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#i'm not sure when to reblog other pictures i've done
krirebr · 8 months
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Caught Up in Your Trap
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Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 
He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.
“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”
“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”
Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”
The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”
They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.
The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 
Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.
Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 
Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”
Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”
“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.
Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.
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This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.
The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.
Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 
The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.
He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.
Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.
You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 
You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”
He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”
This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”
He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 
Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”
He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”
That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.
“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”
Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.
He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”
You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.
He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.
“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”
You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 
He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”
You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.
The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.
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You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.
You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 
Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.
“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 
You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 
Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.
Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.
He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”
“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.
“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”
You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 
“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”
What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.
Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.
“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  
“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.
“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”
He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”
You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”
He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 
You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 
When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 
When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 
As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.
After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”
God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 
He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”
You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.
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Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?
You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 
And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.
You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”
Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”
His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”
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imaginespazzi · 4 months
Text
Part 7: Home
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6
These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to (us)
(In which with bittersweet feelings, a nostalgic writer, finally writes the end of the story)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst and Fluff
Words: 7.1K
TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content
A/N: Hello my loves! I can't believe we've actually reached the end, who would have thought huh? I'm not sure if there will be an epilogue, mainly cause I don't know what I'd write but never say never. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and if I've done the end I pictured justice but I really hope y'all like it anyways. There's a fair amount of creative liberty taken with WNBA logistics but please just accept it for the plot. Per usual, did I edit? Yes. Are there grammar mistakes and typos anyways? Yes. As always, let me know what you liked and disliked. And finally, to all my lovelies who have liked, reblogged, commented, sent in an ask, dm-ed me or simply just silently read this fic, I just wanna say thank you guys so, so, much, y'all have made writing every word worth it and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it <3
August 2018
Paige swears, tonight, there are stars in the Minnesota night sky she’s never seen before in her life. The summer sky has darkened with nightfall, yet the shine of the moon and its companions make it still seem ever so bright. Or maybe, it’s just the girl lying next to Paige that makes tonight feel luminescent, sparkling with the promises of something not quite like friendship that Paige has never felt before. She’d spent the whole day with Azzi at the Minnesota State fair, trying to suppress these new butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken birth over their time in Latvia. Or well, maybe they’d been there from the start, but they’d really only started this dance of theirs, the one that makes Paige feel all tingly when Azzi smiles, over the course of this summer. 
“Paige it’s cold, stop hogging the blanket,” Azzi chastises, breaking Paige from a trance, as she tugs on the pink and purple blanket covering the two of them, “I knew we should have brought two of them.”
“It’s barely on me” Paige argues for the sake of arguing but she shifts anyway to allow the younger girl to pull the blanket, so clearly meant for one person, a little more towards her, “besides, it’s about sharing body heat.”
“You’re not even warm enough to share body heat,” Azzi mocks as she makes a show of tracing a finger down Paige’s arm and everything in the blonde feels like it’s been lit on fire at the touch. And she wonders if Azzi feels it too, the electricity, the sparks of this could ruin me that scatter through her veins before finding themselves setting her heart ablaze. It’s too much and Paige shakes Azzi’s hand off with a little more force than she means too. 
When Azzi sends her questioning look, she splutters through an excuse, “your hands are cold too. Can we just do the boring shit we’re here to do.”
"Stargazing is not boring,” Azzi says indignantly, opening the little stargazing booklet she’d brought with her, flicking through the pages looking for something specific. 
To be honest, sitting still in an open field and squinting at the sky trying to figure out a distant constellation isn’t really Paige’s brand of entertainment. She’s a fidgety person by nature, constantly embroiled in the urge to be moving. But Azzi had brought it up the other day, with pleading eyes and a hopeful grin and well, sometimes it felt sinful to deny Azzi of anything she wants. And that’s how they’d ended up at a campsite, not too far from the State fair, lying on the grass, heads tilted towards each other, with a single blanket shielding them from the summer breeze. 
“Okay,” Azzi says after a while, using her fingers to point out a pattern in the sky, “I think that one’s Cassiopeia.”
“If you say so,” Paige nods, not really sure what she’s supposed to be looking at. 
“Paaaaige,” Azzi whines, “focus.”
“Dude I can barely see anything, the fuck am I supposed to focus o-”
Before Paige can finish her sentence, she feels herself being pulled by the younger girl, the side of her body fitting into the crook’s of Azzi’s like a perfect puzzle piece. She looks over at the brunette, and the protest dies on the tip of her tongue, as she realises just how close Azzi is to her now, all semblance of air leaving her lungs. Paige gulps, eyes tracing every inch of her best friend’s face, stopping of their own accord at Azzi’s lips, before guiltily flashing back to meet the younger girl’s eyes which are just as focused on Paige. And it feels like there’s no force in this world right now that could make either of them look away. Except maybe the force of friends don’t do this. 
“Just focus,” Azzi breaks contact first, turning her face back at the stars, before gently grabbing hold of Paige’s hand so she can guide it in the pattern of the constellation. And Paige still doesn’t really see it, doesn’t even particularly care about seeing it, but if it gets Azzi to hold her hand, soft skin putting light pressure against her palm, she thinks she’ll try to see some random lines in the sky forever. 
“It’s pretty.”
“You don’t see it do you?”
“Nope,” Paige’s grin widens when Azzi chuckles, shaking her head fondly. Something in her blooms, delighted at being the reason for that. And she’s always prided herself in being funny, she thinks of herself as a little bit of a comedian really, but she’s never wanted to make anyone laugh quite as much as she wants to make Azzi laugh. 
“Well that’s enough stargazing for us then,” Azzi rolls her eyes, closing her little booklet and making a move to sit up but Paige is quicker, pulling the younger girl back down and interlocking their fingers. Her own overeagerness causes a tinge of embarrassment to race up her cheeks, and she hopes it’s dark enough that Azzi won’t see the pale pink blush taking over her face. 
“It’s peaceful out here,” she says quietly, sounding shy even to her own ears and she can’t help but wonder when the hell that happened, “you wanna stay a little longer?”
“Yeah okay let’s stay longer,,” Azzi agrees  and sometimes when Azzi speaks like that, her voice lyrically soft with a secret smile hidden in it, Paige wonders if maybe it would be okay to hope for, to feel something more because maybe, just maybe, Azzi feels it too. 
“You know you should come to the state championship,” Paige says after a second of silence, trying to keep her voice nonchalant but she can hear the wishfulness bleeding into it anyways. 
Azzi raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that in March? That’s like months and months away.”
“Yeah but- well-” Paige shrugs, cheeks burning just a little bit, “you probably wanna book in advance cause like tickets and stuff you know?”
“You don’t even know if you’ll be in the state championship. There’s still a whole season to go.”
“Oh I know. I know we’re definitely gonna be there.” Paige smirks, cockiness back in full-fledged form. 
“Then I’ll be there,” Azzi says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you better win though Bueckers.”
“Watch me,” and she’s jutting her chest out in arrogance sure, but really everything inside her is swelling with something else, a feeling she’s starting to understand a little too well, a feeling that terrifies her, a feeling she doesn’t think she’s quite ready to let herself feel yet, “it would be nice you know, to win a championship together at some point.”
“I don’t think my parents would be on board with moving to Minnesota.”
“I’m sure I could convince them,” Paige feels a little giddy at the thought, “but I meant more like college, like UConn.”
It’s a topic they’ve stumbled upon a couple of times, with each other, and with the other girls at Team USA. And as much as Paige would love for her other teammates to follow her to her dream school, she’s practical enough to know they might have other priorities. But the thing is that with the rest of the girls, it’s just something she’d like to happen but with Azzi, now that Paige has said it out loud, she’s beginning to realise how desperately she wants that, her and Azzi, on the same team, fighting the same battles and winning the same wars, together. 
“Don’t think you can win a national championship without me Bueckers?” Azzi smirks, twisting her head towards Paige, eyebrows cocked in arrogance. 
“Of course I can,” Paige’s face softens, the vulnerability that only ever seems to come out around her best friend seeping on to her features, “but I think it would be fun to win one with you. Someday.”
“Someday, “ Azzi whispers back, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze, and then her eyes widen at the sky, “holy shit is that a shooting star? Oh my god Paige look up, quick, it’s beautiful.”
In the dark of the night, a rare flicker of gold shoots across the obsidian Minnesota sky. Paige has never seen one before but it seems fitting really, that she’d see one tonight. 
“We have to make a wish,” she whispers and Azzi, never one to really believe, rolls her eyes but she follows Paige’s lead, closing her eyes. And the thing is Paige could wish for a lot of things really, but she finds herself thinking of only one word that sums up all she could ever want: someday.
***
August 2026 
They’ve been playing against each other for years now and yet the thrill of the face-off still hasn’t quite worn off. Back in the handful of games in high school, it had been quickfire friendly trash talk, two best friends going at it like the competitors they were. College had been drastically different, each game, each play, underlined with the tension of two people who still hadn’t quite figured it out. But Paige thinks her favourite version of them as opponents is definitely this one, the one where they might be on different teams in the WNBA, but off the court, they both know they’re on the same side, together. 
Their relationship isn’t quite a secret; it would have been impossible to hide if after the kiss at the 2025 national championship. But they’d kept as quiet about it as possible, skillfully dodging media questions, wanting to shelter it from the prying eyes of the public. It makes playing each other on national television, just that little bit more entertaining, trying to keep things as cordial as possible. If Paige’s hands end up just a little too close to Azzi’s waist, lingering a little longer than necessary against the patch of skin she’d marked with a hickey earlier this morning, and it makes the younger girl shiver, then that’s just a tactic to win. And if Azzi breathes seductive thoughts of what she’d like to do after the game when guarding Paige, and it makes the blonde want to turn around and kiss the smirk off of her girlfriend’s lips, well that’s just another innovative defensive strategy. 
“Be a good girl for me and move,” Paige whispers, the double entendre in her voice apparent, as she tries to dribble the ball past Azzi. There’s only a minute or so left in the last meeting of the regular season between Paige’s Lynx and Azzi’s Mystics -funny how that had worked out-  and the score is painfully close, with the Mystics closing in on the Lynx’s two point-lead. 
“Always a good girl for you P,” Azzi smirks, her voice the quietest it could possibly be, but Paige hears her next words like they’re on a loudspeaker in the area,  “it’s why I’m wearing your favourite purple panties.”
It takes a second, a second where Paige’s eyes gloss over with lust, as her mind rushes back to the last time she’d seen, the last time she’d touched the silky undergarment, for the ball to be stolen from her hands. She’s a step too slow to recover and by that time Azzi’s already scored the easy lay-up to tie up the game, a mischievous grin adorning her normally stoic game face. 
On the other end of the court, Napheesa draws a foul and Paige and Azzi end up next to each for free throws. Paige is seething, unsure if the heat curling up her spine is from the game or the girl standing next to her. 
“Sorry baby, all’s fair in love and war right?” Azzi teases, pinky brushing against the blonde’s, “I’ll make it up to you later if you want.”
“You’re such a fucking menace,” Paige practically growls. She does want, in fact she’d like it right now if it was possible. Two years they’ve been together, longer if you count the inbetween, and still, every time Azzi lights a match, Paige feels herself burn just as brightly as the first time she’d felt that magnetic pull. 
“Learnt from the best,” Azzi hums with a grin as Napheesa hits both free throws. 
The rest of the game passes in a blur of frenzied shots and hurried fouls but the Lynx pull out an eventual, much-needed win, to better their chances of clinching a higher seed in the playoffs. After missing the playoffs in 2024, the Lynx, despite having relatively low odds, had secured the no.1 pick and there had never really been a doubt that they would pick Paige. She’d helped the team get back to the playoffs last season but they hadn’t made it out of the first round. A championship doesn’t seem quite possible yet, but Paige has her fingers crossed that they’d at least make it to a semi-final this time. 
“The two of you are terrible at this,” Aaliyah’s the first person to hug Paige during the handshake line, “I thought you’d jump each other’s bones in the middle of the game today.”
“We’re not that bad,” Paige rolls her eyes at her former teammate. She high-fives a few more of the Mystics team until she gets to Azzi, who’s already smiling, despite the loss. The cameras are quick to crowd them, clearly wanting a more sensational picture than the one they’re likely to get. Still, despite the unwanted attention, Paige lets herself nestle into the crook of Azzi’s neck. 
“You owe me twice tonight,” she whispers into the younger girl’s ear, “one for the win and one for that bullshit you pulled on the court tonight.”
Azzi’s voice is breathless when she replies, “I can give you way more than two.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“It’s a promise.”
***
“With the new rules, after this season you’ll be a free agent, have you given any thought to that?”
Waiting for the Lynx’s turn in the media room, Paige hadn’t been paying much attention to the questions being asked to the Mystics players, her focus solely on how hot her girlfriend always looked post games. But the words ‘free agent’ pique her interest. The W had changed the rookie contract rules for first round draftees to two years and that meant both Paige and Azzi would be free agents after this year. But while it hadn’t reached the media quite yet, the Lynx were likely to use their core designation on Paige. Which meant the only one of them making any decision about next season would be Azzi. It was a subject the two of them were cautiously tip-toeing around, using the shield of distance to avoid talking about what it could mean for them. 
“I’m focused on the season, this team and the rest of our games. I’m not really thinking about the future,” Azzi answers diplomatically. 
“You’ve obviously got very strong ties to the DC area but you also went to UCLA, if the Sparks or maybe even the Valkyries, considering your connection to Steph Curry, were interested, and there have been rumours that they are, would you consider it?” the same reporter prods. 
“Again, I’m not currently thinking about any of that,” to anyone else Azzi probably sounds neutral but Paige has studied the sheet music of Azzi’s voice to the point where she knows what’s hidden behind every note, behind every little indent. The tinge of irritation is masked by a smile, but the line of questioning is clearly unappreciated. 
“And what about the Lynx?” the persistently oblivious reporter continues and this time Paige sucks in a breath, “you have some ties to that team don't you? Have you given some thought to maybe going there?”
Azzi’s eye twitches ever so slightly, “the Lynx just beat my team. The only thoughts I have right now are about how to beat them next time.”
That elicits a laugh from the media and finally the rather obtuse reporters seem to understand that he’s not going to be able to pry anything newsworthy from Azzi’s mouth. But even if he hasn’t achieved his desired effect, he’s succeeded in making Paige’s mind start running in circles. She hadn’t let herself think about it yet, the potential of Azzi joining the Lynx, the potential of playing with Azzi, the potential of finally just being with Azzi. Because facing the potential for all of that, facing all the things she wants means also facing the potential that maybe Azzi doesn’t want any of that. 
***
The air in Paige’s living room is thick with a suffocating tension as she and Azzi sit on opposite ends of the couch. It reminds Paige a little bit of the before, a dreaded version of them she’d foolishly thought they grown out of, until something reminiscent of their past problems had reared its ugly head, and suddenly it feels a bit like she’s playing a losing game. 
“Will you please stop that,” she bites out, referring to where Azzi’s foot is incessantly tapping on the wooden floors, “it’s giving me a headache.”
Azzi’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, “is it my tapping or the alcohol giving you a headache Paige?”
“I didn’t even drink that much,” Paige says through gritted teeth and Azzi scoffs. 
It’s a lie. After both teams were done with post game pressers, she, Azzi and a couple of the other girls had ended up at a local bar as they often did when the other team didn’t have to fly out til the next day. Paige had been tense the whole evening and trying to pretend not to be, especially when Azzi could see right through her façade, had only made the whole thing worse. She wasn’t one to drink too much, always happy just being sufficiently tipsy but then she’d gotten in her head too much. And when the first shot didn’t quite hit the way she needed it to, she’d kept on going, receiving worried looks from all the girls, until Azzi had finally stepped in. The ride back from the bar had been a sobering experience, one look at Azzi’s stoic face, giving away her irritation. 
“That’s why you still reek of tequila?” 
“How the fuck would you know? You haven’t come near me all night.” 
“Don’t you dare try and turn this on me Paige. I tried to talk to you all night til you decided you wanted to act like freshman frat boy,” Azzi spits out, hurt and anger colliding in her voice, “we barely get to spend time together during the season and the one night in forever that we do, you pull this shit?”
They haven’t had an argument like this since they’ve been officially together, the kind of argument that has them balancing on a delicate tight rope, too afraid to take a step backwards in their relationship, and too prideful to take a step forward towards each other. 
“I didn’t think you cared about spending time together during the season,” Paige accuses and there’s a sensible part of her, one that’s currently being held captive by the dangers of liquor, that knows it’s a ridiculous allegation. 
Azzi stares at her, lips opening and closing in disbelief, “excuse me?”
“It’s pretty simple really Azzi. If you wanna spend the whole season together, the option is right fucking there, but I- I can’t even tell if you’re interested in taking it,” Paige is pacing now, teeth gnawing at her lips like they always do when she’s nervous. 
“What- what are you even talking about?” Azzi asks, clearly confused. 
“Free fucking agency. They asked you about it and you said you hadn’t thought about it at all. That’s really great to hear Az, really great to know you haven’t thought about how that could literally change our whole fucking life,” and even as the words waterfall out of her mouth, Paige knows she’s being unreasonable, but the mix of stress and alcohol churning in her stomach is just enough to keep her from taking the words back. 
“I didn’t- that’s not even what I said. Jesus fucking christ Paige,” Azzi rubs her face, looking defeated.
“So you have thought about it then?”
“Of course I’ve thought about it, “ Azzi throws her hands up, “but I wasn’t gonna tell the media about all of that. But you- you seriously think I haven’t thought about what this means for us? You don’t- do you really think I’m not thinking about you- about us- while trying to make this decision?”
“Well you definitely didn’t think of me- of us- when you chose UCLA,” Paige’s eyes widen at her own words, knowing immediately that of all things she could have said, those were the worst ones, “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”
In front of her, Azzi has gone deathly still, face completely devoid of emotion, until the first tear drops and all of Paige’s anger dissipates, the guilt clawing back with full force. 
“I thought we were over that,” Azzi whispers, voice trembling, as she looks down at her hands, “but maybe we’ll never be over that.”
“We are,” Paige sinks to her knees in front of the younger girl, tugging Azzi’s hands into her own, “we are over it. I just- it just slipped out.”
Azzi’s quiet for a moment before she pulls her hands out of the blonde’s grip, sidestepping her as she stands up and Paige feels empty and cold and just a little bit broken. 
“Are you leaving?” she whispers, peering up at Azzi through tear soaked eyelashes. 
“I think I should, before anything else just slips out,” Paige flinches and Azzi’s expression softens, “I know- I know you didn’t mean it like that but I just- I need some space.”
Panic filters into Paige’s lungs, wrapping its dirty hands and squeezing so tight that she can barely breathe. She’s not sure when she’ll see Azzi again, now that there’s no more Lynx-Mystics games left in the regular season and it’s unlikely with their expected seedings that they’d meet at some point in the playoffs. It’s not like distance is new to them, but in the last two years, they’ve only ever said goodbye with an i love you attached to the end. 
“Are you-,” Paige gasps for air, “are you leaving me?”
And it must be written all over Paige's face, just how petrified she is of this moment, because that's all it takes for Azzi to rush back into Paige’s space, hands cupping her cheeks, “oh baby of course not. I just- you’re still drunk and I’m upset and I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean. And I- need time to think about free agency and I think you- you need time to think about why that slipped out.”
Paige sighs, melting into Azzi’s touch as the knots in her stomach begin to untangle themselves, “you’re so logical.”
“Someone has to be,” a half-smile flitters across the younger girl’s face as she wipes at Paige’s tears, “we’ll figure this out okay? Just- just give me a little bit of time.”
Give me time. It’s a familiar line, so similar to what Azzi had asked for when she was making a decision about college and Paige would be lying if she said there isn’t a part of her that’s terrified fate is going to make them repeat the same mistakes. But part of growing up, Paige surmises, is letting time test you with the same trials and tribulations, and the next time, coming out of the other end on the right side. 
And so she squeezes Azzi’s hand, matching the younger girl's half smile, with a soothing one of her own, “okay.”
***
November 2027 
Paige doesn't know when she ended up in a love triangle with Azzi and the state of California but she wishes she was competing against an actual person. At least then she could throw a punch at the other guy. The W season is barely over and it seems like every front office has thrown themselves headfirst into convincing free agents to join their team. There’s a couple of teams interested in Azzi, but no one seems to be trying harder than the Los Angeles Sparks. Paige thinks whoever gave that city a name meaning “the angels” could not have been more wrong because really it’s a city full of devils constantly trying to steal her girl and no she’s not being dramatic. 
They’re supposed to be leaving for thanksgiving dinner when Azzi’s phone rings and Paige can’t help but roll her eyes when Cameron Brink’s name flashes on the CallerID. The Sparks seemed to have put her as head of their recruiting Azzi campaign and Cam had been diligently doing her part. 
“Azzi, Cam’s calling again,” Paige yells out to her girlfriend who’s still not quite finished getting ready.
“Can you pick it up?”
“Do I have to?”
“Paige,” Azzi whines and Paige sighs, hitting the green answering button. 
“The amount of times you’ve called my girlfriend this week, Brink, should I be concerned?”
“Jealous I’m replacing you as her favourite blonde?” Cam’s voice always sounds like she’s smiling and Paige can’t help her own smile. Goddamn Cameron Brink for always being the sweetest soul on this planet. 
“As if,” Paige scoffs, “it’s a holiday Cam, give the recruiting a rest.”
“Hey, I’m just calling to wish her a happy thanksgiving,” Cam defends. 
“Mmmhmm where’s my thanksgiving wish?”
“Oh please, the two of you are basically a unit. Wishing her is wishing you,” Cam is quiet for a second before speaking again, “the Sparks would be a good fit for her Paige.”
Paige sucks in a sharp breath, “I’m not the one you’re gonna have to convince.”
“I know but you know your opinion means a lot to her. I know you want her in Minnesota and she'd be good there too and I- I know it isn’t my place to say any of this but just- just don’t discourage her from doing what’s best for her,” there’s not a hint of malice in Cam’s words, there never is, but they pierce at Paige’s skin anyways. 
“Okay I’m ready, hand me the phone,” she’s saved from having to answer by Azzi waltzing into the living room and prying the phone from her hands. 
Paige watches silently as Azzi talks animatedly with Cam, noticing the way her girlfriend’s smile widens while talking about certain spots in L.A. They’d subconsciously decided not to breach the subject of free agency after that night. Paige hadn’t interfered in any of the Lynx’s conversations with Azzi, deciding that this time, she’d stay out of it. It hadn’t been easy, every little bit of her itching to pitch why the Lynx were the perfect fit, why Paige was the perfect fit, but she was determined to give Azzi the space -the time- she’d wanted. This time she’d leave the choice solely up to Azzi and whatever she decided, Paige would find her happiness in that. 
“Paige you ready to go,” Azzi waves a hand in front of Paige’s face, eyebrows raised in question when the older girl doesn’t make a move to get off the sofa, “hey, you good?”
“Cam says the Sparks would be a good fit,” Azzi stiffens at Paige’s words. 
“Paige-”
“She’s right,” Paige concedes, fingers fidgeting as she averts Azzi’s gaze. 
The younger girl blinks at her, clearly not having expected that, “she is?”
“Yeah. They need a shooting guard and you,” Paige smiles, reaching out to pull Azzi onto the couch with her, “you’re the best there is.”
“I wouldn’t go that far-”
“You are to me and it’s why I want you on the Lynx,” they both let out a breath with that. It’s not a secret of course but Paige hasn’t said it out loud before. 
“Paige-”
“But it’s okay if you don't wanna be on the Lynx, if you wanna be on the Sparks or stay here with the Mystics or on any other team, if you think it’s the right move for you and for your career then that’s fine. It’s okay and you don’t- you don’t need my permission or anything of course but I just- whatever you decide, I’ll support it okay? What I said that night about UCLA-  it wasn't- it wasn’t about you. I thought about it like you asked me to and it’s me. I was scared that I would fuck it up again and I’d lose you again-”
“You won’t,” Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze,  “I won’t let you.”
“I know. I know now that whatever happens, we’ll be okay. And so you can choose whatever team you want and it won’t- it won’t affect us, I promise. It won’t be like last time I swear. When you make your decision- I just- I don’t want you to make it for me or for us, cause you and me? Baby we’ll be just fine no matter what. Wherever you go and wherever I am, we’ll make it work, just as we have for the last two years,” Paige smirks, “besides I kinda enjoy kicking your ass.”
Azzi lets out a snort as she climbs onto Paige’s lap, thighs straddling her hips, “you really had to ruin it with that last part huh?”
“Was getting a little too sappy for me,” Paige mumbles and when she looks up, the emotions floating in Azzi’s eyes make Paige’s heart stutter. Because no one else gets this Azzi. This Azzi, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who lets her walls down, only for Paige’s eyes to see, only for Paige’s mind to memorise, only for Paige’s heart to keep. 
“You mean it?” Azzi whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Paige’s face, touching lingering, “you’d be okay with anything?”
“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige cups Azzi’s cheeks, brushing her lips against the younger girl’s, “whatever you choose, we’ll be fine. No matter what, I believe in us.”
***
January 2028
Paige groans when her phone rings at 2 a.m., fumbling around in the dark trying to answer it. 
“I swear you better be dying if you’re calling me this late,” she grumbles into the phone, voice scratchy with sleep. 
“Not quite,” Azzi says, and Paige’s eyebrows furrow at the amount of background noise she can hear behind her girlfriend. 
“Dude where the hell are you at 3 in the morning?” she asks, now a little more awake as she sits up. 
“I uh- I had a bit of a revelation,” and Paige can practically picture Azzi, wherever she might be, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lips. 
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“I know. I know. Shit, I was supposed to do this in person. I had a whole plan but apparently being with you has made me impatient,” Azzi rambles. 
“You’re still not making any sense,” but Paige’s heart is starting to beat erratically fast in anticipation. 
“I had this realisation while I was in the gym today, it was really quiet and peaceful and I was fine you know- all day I was fine- just doing daily routines and then I just- I missed you. I miss you all the time do you know that?”
Paige does know, knows it far too well. Sometimes she thinks missing Azzi comes as naturally as breathing, an innate part of her day to day, a constant ache that she’s felt since she was 15. 
“I miss you too,” she whispers. 
“And I’ve learned to survive with that feeling, with missing you constantly. I mean it’s been more than 10 years at this point, how could I not? But what I realised today is that just because I can- just because I can live missing you- doesn’t mean I want to.”
“What are you saying Azzi?”
“DC is my childhood. My family is close to there, it’s part of where I grew up. It’ll always be my first home. And LA is where I found myself, my identity, and for a while it felt like home too.”
“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, hands gripping the phone as tight as possible, wrapping that one syllable in emblems of give me forever. 
“But my forever home isn’t in DC or LA and it’s not really in any other place either because-  Jesus this might be the clichést thing I’ve ever said but-,” Azzi lets out a chuckle, “my home is wherever you are Paige. Wherever we’re together, that’s home.”
It feels a little bit like the end of a drought, the wetness on Paige’s cheeks like the rain that comes after. In the pitch black of her room, phone clutched closely to her ear with Azzi’s words floating through it like a swan song, Paige swears she’s never felt the world glow quite like this before. 
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Beating your ass has been fun as hell but I think we’d make a pretty good team Bueckers.”
And it’s a good thing Paige’s walls are soundproof because the delighted whoop she lets out practically vibrates around the room, all previous wisps of tiredness completely gone from her body. Azzi lets out a tearful laugh and Paige wishes they were together right now so she could tattoo this happiness onto both of their skins. 
“The greatest team ever,” Paige affirms, “When are you com-”
“Attention passengers Delta Airlines Flight 1248 to Minneapolis will be boarding soon, please have your passport and ticket ready to check at the gate.”
“About that,” Azzi says shyly as Paige’s mouth drops open at the announcement, “I uh- I had a moment of spontaneity.”
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my overthinking girlfriend?” Paige demands and Azzi giggles on the other end of line.
“I know it’s last minute, like really last minute and it was meant to be a surprise actually but I just- I really wanna see you. Is that okay?”
“Is that okay? Fuck Azzi, it’s all I want. Baby,” Paige breathes out softly, “come home.”
*** 
Time isn’t going nearly fast enough Paige thinks as she checks the arrivals board for the nth time. She’d tried for about four seconds to fall back asleep after hanging up the phone but her entire body had been buzzing with excitement. And so she’d gotten to the airport far earlier than necessary, and had maybe one too many cups of coffee if the jittery shake in her left hand is anything to go by.
She swears she feels her before she sees her. The air is electric as if the whole city, the whole state is waiting for Azzi too, for them to get their elusive forever. This moment feels like years in the making, and Paige is ready, ready to grasp it and make it hers. And then there’s Azzi, a clearly chosen-at-last minute wrinkled t-shirt, eyes drooping from the tiredness from not having slept all night, baby hairs in a frenzy across her forehead. To Paige, she’s still the prettiest girl in the entire universe. 
Azzi’s eyes scan through the airport until they land on Paige, a dazzling smile illuminating her exhausted features. It’s the exact same smile that Paige had first elicited from her on the flight back from Argentina when she’d told Azzi she had a feeling they'd make great friends. It’s her Paige smile. The world is still for a second, everything melting away except them and the whispers of the journey it had taken them to get to this point. Every delicately placed step towards each other feels like an ode to every year they’d spent apart. And then Paige is running, not caring about everyone else around her. She jumps into Azzi’s arm, all 6 feet of her, tangling her legs around the younger girl's waist while her arms fasten around the neck. It forces Azzi to let go of her small carry-on, not caring that it falls to the floor with a thud, as her hands wrap around Paige’s back, steadying her girlfriend’s weight on top of her. 
“You’re here,” Paige whispers, still a little in disbelief, “you’re really here.”
“I’ve been in Minny plenty of times before,” Azzi quips, adjusting her balance to properly hold the girl clinging to her like a koala. 
“Shut up you know what I mean. You’re here forever this time.”
“Well I don’t know about forever- OW,” Azzi shrieks, as Paige pinches her arm, “do you want me to drop you woman?”
“You’re never allowed to leave.”
“That sounds vaguely threatening.”
“Good because it definitely is a threat,” Paige says before pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, “welcome home baby.”
***
October 2028 
There are moments in life you remember forever. Sometimes you know they’re going to happen, sometimes they take you off guard and sometimes, it’s a combination of both. The Minnesota Lynx’s journey to the WNBA finals this season had always felt inevitable but the journey there, for a team that had unexpectedly fallen to the 4-seed despite pre-season clamour of them being number one, had been filled with bitter losses and moments of pure uncertainty. In a way, it perfectly mirrors Paige and Azzi’s relationship. 
There’s 11 seconds separating the Lynx from their 5th championship trophy as they lead the Sky by two points. The crowd is up on their feet, ready for their cheering to turn into roars the minute the final buzzer rings. Paige has the ball in her hands on the inbound, Coach Reeves yelling at her from the bench what to do, as she makes eye contact with Azzi. There are no words, not even a gesture that the other team might be able to interpret, but they know exactly what play they’re about to run.
Truth be told it hadn’t been the seamless transition the two of them had expected when Azzi joined the Lynx. They’d been naive to think years of not playing together wouldn’t have affected the backcourt chemistry they’d had almost instantly once upon a time. The first few games, there had been an embarrassing disconnect between the two of them that had resulted in a nasty berating from Coach Reeves and a subsequent argument between the two of them that had lasted into the next morning. It had taken several more practices, and a couple more games of flailing around, for them to finally become the duo Paige had always known they would. 
The game buzzer beeps and Paige throws the ball to Azzi who immediately returns it back to her, and then she’s running off screen after screen to get herself open on the wing, her sweet spot. Paige dribble penetrates into the paint, dragging an extra defender with her as they try to prevent her from getting a layup, the other defender blocks her from stepping back into a pull-up. Azzi’s defender has a momentary lapse in judgement, falling for the age-old trick of thinking she should help on defence, and that’s all it takes. A second for Paige to see Azzi open on the corner and pass it to her. A second for Azzi to shoot it. 
The three-pointer falls through the next with a perfect swish. Dagger shot. 
A small smile flits across Azzi’s face, the only emotion she’s shown all game and Paige can’t help the much larger grin that starts to flash on her own face. She can almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue, the two seconds left in the game are the only thing separating her from finally getting her version of the things we live for. Behind her she can hear Coach Reeves yelling at them to not foul, the 5-point lead enough of a cushion for them to withstand a last minute shot. But the Sky barely make it over midcourt and when Marina Mabrey heaves up a last second prayer, Paige doesn’t bother to see if it goes in as the buzzer sounds throughout Target Arena. The Minnesota crowd explodes in noise and colour as confetti falls from the sky. 
Despite the chaos of everything, Paige has never seen Azzi clearer than in this moment. Since she’d met the girl, in all of Paige’s prayers about winning a championship, one thing had always been constant, that when they’d come true, they’d come true with Azzi by her side. And she had been. The high school state champion, the college national championship, Azzi had been there for both but on the bleachers, as a spectator and as Paige’s biggest fan. But this, winning a championship with Azzi as her teammate, as her ally, as her partner, means something more. This win is theirs. 
“Do you remember when we saw that shooting star?” Azzi says softly, as they find their way into each other’s arms, not caring that there’s a thousand cameras capturing their every move. Paige pulls Azzi closer to her, every inch of her body pressing into the other girls until she’s not sure where she begins and where Azzi ends. 
“That was years ago,” Paige remarks but she can see it clearly, two young girls underneath the stars, unaware of what their future would be but sure that the other would be in it. Those girls would probably laugh at how long it had taken Paige and Azzi to figure out what had seemed so simple back then. 
“Yeah, yeah it was. Do you remember what you wished for?” Azzi asks, smiling when Paige nods, “do you wanna know what I wished for?”
“What did you wish for Az?”
“Before we saw the star you- you said it’d be nice to win a championship together someday. And so I-,” Azzi looks down shyly, “so I wished for someday. I wished for today.”
Paige stares at Azzi, drinking in the sincerity on the shooting guard’s face, silently letting herself absorb the meaning of Azzi’s words. And then she lets out a laugh because of course of course. 
“I didn’t realise I’d said anything funny for you to be laughing at me,” Azzi scrunches her nose, looking slightly offended. 
“God baby no,” Paige cups Azzi’s face, and she thinks this smile on her face will last forever as long as this is her reality, “I’m not laughing at you. I just- do you know what I wished for?” 
Azzi shakes her head. 
“This. The same exact thing you did. For someday.”
It’s not quite the shade of blue Paige had imagined them in, the Lynx blue its own shade, something inbetween UConn’s navy one and UCLA’s sky one. But it’s perfect nonetheless. And when Azzi crashes her lips against Paige’s, someday feels a lot like forever and always.
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the-faceless-bride · 1 year
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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!
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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 ->
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casinoroyale · 10 months
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Hi everyone!! Theseus cquackity viceduo zombur revivebur here.
This blog has seen several hiatuses (my bad seriously my bad), and bouts of irregular posting. So I'm sure people who regularly check it have noticed that we (Fiona @quackbur and I) haven't been posting daily anymore and haven't for a bit now. So below the cut I'm gonna talk more about that, and our plans for this blog going forward
For starters, I love roleplaying on this blog so much, as does my cohost Fiona @quackbur. Fiona has done so, so much writing for this and I feel kind of bad for taking her credit over the past two or so years, so props to her for being such a good sport and for everything she's done. This blog wouldn't exist without the shared passion she had for it.
To get sappy, I love the friends I've made in bedrockverse, they remain some of my best and closest companions. I would not trade the times I've spent with them for the world. Beau, Holly & co, Met & Co, and Thunderbottles are some of the loveliest, most supportive, and insanely talented people I have ever had the pleasure of writing with and meeting.
This includes people who aren't part of the bedrockverse that I've written with!! Shoutout to Javi anonymous-jey casino-duckling, TGM the-g-m duckofthelaw, and AD anonymous-dentist therealnoodleman. It was so much fun bringing all the quackverses together, and I respect all of you so much as writers.
AND that also includes EVERYONE who has interacted with her!!!!!!!!!! Everyone who has sent asks (thank you so much, sorry we're terrible at replying), reblogged threads, commented, posted/liveblogged, DREW FAN ART (BLOWS OUR MINDS. THERE'S BEEN SO MUCH INCREDIBLE ART CREATED, WE CANNOT THANK ALL OF YOU ENOUGH), even just liked a thread, thank you. Seriously, it has meant a lot to us to be part of this community, and have so many people enjoy this blog. Insert Pitbull image happy you enjoyed.
So, going forward it would make us really happy if you all pictured casinoroyale as happy. He has songbird-sunrise, goofygoop, and a nation full of citizens that she loves. She babysits for tubbolul and latenightmining, and terrorizes rp!emduo not infrequently. All we really wanted was to bring c!quackity to a happy place and I feel we've done that. Of course he still has shit days, as a ptsd baddie, but the good days are more common. And if we never get to it (though I hope someday we do, maybe in the form of a collaborative one-shot or fic) know that casinoroyale and songbird-sunrise DO eventually get [REDACTED]. And one of them DOES get [REDACTED]. That was always the plan! Yay! [REDACTED]!
Not to say that we don't have more arcs planned for this blog, because we do! I just don't know when/if/how they'll ever get written, especially because a lot of my friends have moved on from their rp blogs as well. But I really do still feel happy with where he's at and happy with everything I've done. This is a project I'm really, really proud of and I will always look back on fondly.
None of this means that I'm not interested in c!Quackity or DSMP as a whole anymore, either. Actually that couldn't be further from the truth. But now I'd like to be able to focus on fics, and other forms of writing, which I've been doing more recently :D actually, you can read a short one shot I posted for exile's anniversary HERE
If you've made it this far into this long, sappy post, THANKS!!!!!! The TLDR; this blog is on an indefinite hiatus, and won't be returning to its formal glory, and that's okay. We had a really good run. Now, off we go to other things
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seleniangnosis · 1 year
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Mid Year Check In 💗🪽
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Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3
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Hi everyone 💌🧁! My life is keeping me quite busy, and away from the tumblr tarot community for a while now. I've done this spread for me yesterday, so I decided to share it with you as well.
The reading is intended to provide you with some help and answers on how you've been progressing this year, and a bit of what to expect next 🤍. Pick the picture/pile you're most drawn to and feel free to discard any information that doesn't resonate with you. Enjoy! And reblogs are highly appreciated
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Pile 1
Hello pile one and welcome to your reading 🧁🤍
You've entered this year with a goal in mind. Whether be it personal growth and development, topping your class , or building on your finances, you were ready to do whatever it takes to get there. You might have been a bit stubborn with your plan, even to the point where you neglected other life aspects, or for others, you've been very driven on changing the circumstances you've found yourself into for a long while.
You seem to have been extremely diligent with your plans, following them trough, or created a very structured way to get you where you want to be. For those who have jobs, or were job searching, this year has been spent for sure on achieving some sort of financial abundance, or create a foundation for your career, this part is highly similar to my own reading and I can say I truly worked hard this year, so pile 2 congratulations on your hard work, and I hope you're enjoying the fruits of your labour.
You've got so many pentacles cards here pile 2 ,so yeah a lot of focus on personal development, finances, and stability.
Something you've learnt is how to be consistent in your work, life , studies etc, rely on yourself, and how to manage ideas, or maybe a situation when something doesn't go the way you planned it. Some of you might have been focused on creating business connections or just create some stable new connections in regards to work / workplace, or maybe you were focused on finding a workplace where you felt like you can grow and develop your skills.
Something that you'll have to pay more attention to, and might serve as your next lesson is related to some self introspective work, and spending some time with yourself. You seem to have been all on the grinding mindset, so much that you kinda forgot about yourself. Good work ethics are great, but I get the impression that you were overworking yourselves, and you got the results, but detached from yourself and some self care.
If you have a certain goal set in mind, go for it, but not on the expense of your health. I got an intresting mix of cards, which leave me with the idea that you're highly aware you're stressed and have been working your brains out, but you keep going because you already have your mind set on something and only after you get that thing done you'll be able to relax.
Whatever it is pile 1, I'm proud of you, but please don't forget to tend to your needs as well 🤍💌.
Pile 2
Hello pile two and welcome to your reading 🤍🧁
The message of this pile seems to be again centered around money, finances, staring a new job / moving to a different job, work. Some of you might have started as an intern in your first job, or changed your career. You might have felt a personal call to change your orientation and start something new. I'm getting that energy of " should I stay ? should I leave ? What if I get into a much worse situation if I leave this place?" . Maybe, for some of you, your workplace was toxic and no longer suitable, but you were afraid of what could happen if you don't find a better one , or none at all.
Some of you might have took a break and some time to reflect and redefine their goals. I feel like even though you were getting some reward and results, they were not worth the mental exhaustion, the stress , and what you were putting yourself trough.
It's highly possible for you to still be in this energy/ situation, because as the next lesson the universe has in store for you I got something about facing what you're afraid to face. You seem to be caught too often and too tight into your own thoughts, that you're blocking your rational thinking, so you keep yourself away from reaching that freedom. Pike 2 , how stressed you are rn? You're thinking about making a move, making a plan, you get distracted by illusory thoughts, you're back to square one.
You should start looking at the good side of the things as well, not only what can fail or go wrong. Have more faith in yourself pile two 🤍💌!
Pile 3
Hello pile three and welcome to your reading 🤍🧁
The page of pentacles showed up in all 3 piles, but for this one, the energy is centered more on self work and development. For you I'm not getting much about money, work and finances, but about new start and goals around personal development. Your year was more of a journey in the search of what works and what doesn't for you. What improvements can you be making in terms of how you think about yourself, how can you change your mindset and find more fulfilment, rather than resenting yourself for things that didn't work out. Maybe you've even been unsatisfactory with who you were , and spent time improving yourself, making better decisions that bring you healthy benefits, and enjoying the journey of these small new beginnings. You learned to have more faith in yourself, in the fact that you're capable of improving yourself.
As something that you are still about to learn, well when I picked the cards I got " committing to yourself ", so ... commit to yourself. Maybe you feel guilty about how you've changed, and even though it's a positive change for you, others might make you think you're selfish, or a bad person. Maybe you were too tolerant in the past, and now that you've learnt to take better make better decisions, others see you as too self preoccupied.
For the rest of the year your goal should be yourself. Creating stability for yourself, and share it with those like-minded, who appreciate your presence in their lives💌🤍.
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sinningforrory · 1 year
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stupid // stan uris smut
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a/n: hey everyone! it's been so long since i've posted and a lot of people have been sending me requests but since my first and only fic i've uploaded on here has gained 1,000 notes i thought i'd gift you guys this fic as a thank you. i'm gonna try and upload a lot more now because i appreciate so much the love my writing gets fr thank you guys so much. hope you enjoy and as always, reblogging really helps me out so if u enjoy, pls don't hesitate!
WARNINGS: dom!stan, submissive!bratty!reader, slight choking, mention of drugs (if you squint) SMUT, majorly NSFW minors please dni, thank you!
WORD COUNT: OVER 6K
SUMMARY: Your parents best friends' son. The picture perfect grade A student of the perfect suburban family. And a cocky douchebag. You hated him. But, since you both got into the same college, Stan has been making it clear that he definitely does not hate you...
Stanley. Even his name irked you. I mean, who in their right mind births a beautiful baby boy and names him Stanley. What a stupid name. It fits him though, that’s for sure. Stupid Stan with his stupid family and his stupid friends and his stupid studying. He was just so stupid that you wanted to bash his brains in any time he so much as breathed around your presence. 
Of course, he hadn’t necessarily done anything to warrant your intense hatred towards him. He just irritated you. You were Jewish too so you’d always see each other at the Synagogue and your parents were enamoured by Stan’s stupidness. They saw it as ‘perfection’ instead though. They were always bothering you about how you should ‘aim to be more like Stan’ or ‘Stan’s parents told me he got an A in this class. So why are you getting a D?’ He drove you insane. You weren’t Stan, you weren’t stupid like Stan so why couldn’t your parents just love you for you instead of comparing you to that stupid, stupid boy.
Due to your parents being very good friends with Stan’s family, you saw each other a lot more than you’d like. And every time you were there you took every opportunity to be nasty to Stan just to wear off some steam. But that made it even worse. It wouldn’t matter if he was a dick to you too. But no. He’s NICE to you. And you know he’s doing it on purpose to get on your nerves because every time he compliments your hair and sees you glaring knives into his eyes, he does a subtle smirk to himself as if he’s fucking won this silly little game you play. He knows he’s driving you insane and he’s proud of himself for it. What a fucking douche.  
It had always been this way. Stan irritates you, you’re a bitch to Stan, Stan eats it up, Stan irritates you, blah, blah, blah. It was an endless cycle of hate. 
However, something had flipped in Stan the summer before you both left for college. Luckily enough, you’d both managed to get into the exact same ivy league as each other so you would be stuck with Stan for the next four years. When you found out you immediately wanted to bash your head into a wall repeatedly until you woke up from this absolute nightmare that was Stanley Uris. 
The news that you had both gotten into an ivy league warranted a celebratory party for the both of you. The idea from your lovely mother, of course, and at said party, Stan was acting a lot stranger than normal. So strange to the point where you were currently hiding in the bathroom with your back against the door breathing heavily as if he was chasing after you and about to knock the door down with an axe.  
It started in the garden. You wore a white summer dress with tiny yellow flowers scattered among it. Stan was looking very punchable in cream khakis and a navy polo. Unbuttoned, of course, because he could never look TOO tidy. You stood by the refreshments, sipping a virgin pina colada when Stan strutted his way over with a teasing grin on his face, ready to ruin your relaxed mood. 
‘So, I guess we’re going to college together. It seems you really can’t escape me, can you, y/n?’ He leaned against the table next to you, taking a sip from his beer. You glared up at him, already infuriated by the fact that he was leaning down with you stood up straight next to him and he was still taller than you. 
‘Oh please, Stanley, don’t pretend to be so happy about this when we both know you are just as excited about this as me.’ 
He gasped in mock surprise before laughing softly at the frown on your face, ‘Oh, come on, princess, you know you love me. I guarantee that you would miss this adorable face as soon as you knew you couldn’t see me anymore.’ 
He smiled at you gently before moving his sunglasses up to rest on his curls and taking a sip of beer. 
You moved to stand in front of him, making a move to leave the refreshments and flee to your room (or anywhere away from Stan). ‘Bite me, Uris.’ 
‘If you insist, princess.’ He smirked at you and folded his arms over his chest, his muscles straining under his polo. 
Your eyes widened slightly, shock evident on your face at his words. He had always been overly saccharine with you but he had never flirted with you so boldly. Shaking yourself out of your daze, you scoffed before walking off with your pina colada into your kitchen for some snacks. 
5 minutes later, you were still stood in front of your fridge, supposedly searching for food but instead, you found yourself staring off into space. You could not scratch that smug image of Stan out of your brain, his words engraving themselves into your memory, messing with your mind. 
Worst of all, you found yourself repeatedly wondering why you liked what he had said to you. Pulling yourself together, you closed the fridge door but immediately jumped as you saw Stan standing right where the fridge door had been resting. 
‘You look a little lost, princess, is everything okay?’ He was stood so close to you that your chests were half an inch away from touching. You gazed into his eyes for half a second before realising what you were doing and coughed before putting some distance between the two of you. 
‘Uh-uhm, I’m fine thank you, Stanley. Just couldn’t find what I was craving.’ 
He nodded his head understandingly before taking a step forward so you were nearly chest to chest once again. ‘What exactly are you craving, y/n?’ 
He hadn’t meant to sound so enticing, or maybe he had, but the way he said that with his gravelly voice and his tiny smirk made your thighs involuntarily clench together. 
‘E-erm, just some guacamole dip. My mom always hides it from me though because she knows I’ll eat it all before the other guests can have any.’ You fiddled with the hem of your dress, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of you. What had gotten into you, why was he making your confidence dissipate so easily and why were you suddenly acting like a nervous school-girl?
Stan’s eyebrows furrowed before an evil look took over his features. He was planning something, you could tell. And you didn’t like it. 
‘Oh, you mean.. this guacamole? The one on top of the fridge? That I can reach? But you can’t?’ 
Your eyes trailed along his veiny, muscular forearm before they met his slender, mocking hand where you found it gesturing towards... of course: the dip. 
Frustration filled you head to toe as you realised that Stan, once again, had the upper hand. Your jaw ticked as your eyes finally met Stan’s cocky, patronising eyes and you had to resist the urge to make those smug, brown orbs black and blue. 
‘It seems that you have something you need to ask me, darling. Because, let’s face it, we’re not gonna have a stare-off all day in front of this fridge. So, let’s hear it: “Oh, please, Stanley. I need you to get me that dip off the top of the fridge because I was born with incompetent height and I can’t do it without you, Stanley.”’ 
You crossed your arms over your chest as you listened, painfully, to Stan mock you with such arrogance you found it hard to resist whacking him with a frying pan. However, to Stan’s surprise, before he had the chance to continue making fun of you, there was no one standing in front of him anymore. 
Where had you gone? he thought. That’s unlike you, to admit defeat so easily. Where was your usual snarky bite back, attacking him on his ‘unusually long legs’? 
But before he could get too worried, there you were. Returning into the kitchen to fight back to Stan.... with a chair. 
Wordless and emotionless, you put the chair down in front of the fridge, stood on its seat and grabbed the dip, finally retreating from the kitchen, not before throwing Stan a victorious wink before you disappeared around the corner. 
Truth be told, you had no idea how to respond to Stan’s unusual behaviour so instead of arguing back like you would normally do, your mind blanked of insults completely and you did the next best thing that you could think of: beat him at his own game. 
It was obvious that something about Stan had changed since the last time you had spoken and Stan seemed to think he was one step ahead of you. What stupid Stan didn’t know was that you were nowhere near as Stupid as him and knew that the only way to irritate him like you used to was to give him a taste of his own medicine. 
Sure, you weren’t exactly completely against the idea of flirting with Stan for fun. He was obviously a good-looking guy; you knew because he would never let you forget it. And you would never pass up the opportunity to get a hot guy flustered. 
This was how Stan wanted to play? Fine. He’d better prepare to lose. 
It had been two weeks since this little game you and Stan were playing had begun and you couldn’t hold out much longer. The tension between the two of you had sky-rocketed and even the slightest twitch of a smirk in the corner of Stan’s mouth had your panties pooling with desire. 
You had an inkling that Stan was in the same boat as you were as your lingering caresses on his arm or leg when laughing with him and his family seemed to make him blush much easier than before. 
The point of why you were doing all of this was still vaguely swimming around in the back of your mind: do not be the first to give into your temptations. Don’t sleep with Stan. 
However, with Stan so perfectly positioned behind you so your butt met his bulge as he leaned over your petite frame to reach for a glass, you had to take deep breaths to remind yourself once again: don’t sleep with Stan. 
You gulped and took a deep breath of relief once he removed himself from his position behind you to lean on the counter next to you. His gaze burned into the side of your face and you met his eyes briefly just to find him with a cocky smirk plastered on him. 
Your blood boiled (with rage or desire, you didn’t know) but you looked away without giving even the slightest of a reaction. You could never let him know how much his actions affected you. 
It was that dreaded time of the week when you go over to the Uris family’s house for dinner and after eating a delicious meal cooked by Mrs Uris you did the routine of standing in the kitchen and drinking an iced tea with Stan whilst the adults got drunk in the living room. 
Usually, you and Stan would bicker pointlessly during this time of the evening, but tonight it was completely silent between the two of you with only lingering gazes and glares thrown from one to the other. The tension could be cut with a butter knife. 
However, your torment was put on pause as, suddenly, Mrs Uris appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Hello sweeties,’ she hiccoughed slightly, clearly tipsy. ‘I know that the kitchen is very beautiful but you are welcome to go up to Stan’s room if you want. Stan certainly won’t mind a beautiful girl like you to be up in his room, y/n.’ She winked as you blushed and Stan coughed out an embarrassed ‘Mom!’. 
She then made her departure, giggling to herself softly as she went. Stan then coughed to get your attention and gestured with a jerk of his head to the direction of his room, indirectly asking if you wanted to take up his mother on her offer. You shrugged before making your way up the stairs to Stan’s room. 
Stan’s room. What a place to behold. You hadn’t been up there since you were about 12 and had to work with Stan on a class project. It had changed a lot since then. Posters of bands that Stan listened to were plastered all over the walls and clothes were scattered all over the floor, and let’s not forget to mention the faint aroma of marijuana. 
Stan manoeuvred you out of the doorway, his fingers gracing your waist ever so slightly with his bulge pressed against your lower back as he shimmied past you. 
He jumped on his bed, his arms and legs in a starfish position on either side of him, and closed his eyes with a big sigh. 
You carefully sat yourself down next to him on the bed, feeling too hesitant to lie yourself down next to him. He leaned up against the bed frame with his hands behind his head as he studied your appearance precariously as ever. 
‘Why do you hate me?’.
The question took you by surprise. It was so out of the blue and even more so out of character for Stan to be so straight-forward. You blinked delicately before shrugging your shoulders at him. 
‘Do you want the honest answer or the answer that you want to hear from me?’ You pressed, speaking so quiet that it was almost a whisper. 
He glanced swiftly over you for a second before responding, ‘Honest.’ 
It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting Stan to want that answer but the fact that you had to admit it to yourself now, let alone to Stan, was enough to make you faint from nerves. 
You looked away from Stan and fiddled with your fingers as you spoke in hushed tones. ‘I envy you. You have better grades, better looks, better charisma, better music taste, better style... a better life. You are better than me in every way. And I despise you for it.’ 
A masked look of shock ghosted over Stan’s face before it was replaced once again with a stony expression. He sat up straight so that your knees were touching and he placed a hand on the centre of your thigh. 
You looked up at him and connected with his gorgeous hazel eyes. He ran his tongue quickly over his lips before his eyes locked onto yours. ‘Now, we both know that’s not true.’
It was as if your body was moving with a mind of its own. Slowly, you were leaning in towards Stan as if you were magnetised to him and to be too far would hurt you in unimaginable ways. ‘How do you mean?’ You breathily responded, your heart pulsing rapidly.
He was so close to you now that you felt his breath against your lips. ‘Because I envy you ten times more.’ And with that closing sentence you felt his lips crash immediately into yours. 
All the tension from the last few days swarmed around you both like a storm of arousal and need. His kiss was passionate and rough as he pressed his lips into yours with so much want but his hand on your leg was gentle and sweet as he caressed your inner thigh gently with his thumb. 
The constant nagging of your brain screaming at you ‘Don’t sleep with Stan’ was shoved into the back of your mind falling to deaf ears as Stan moved his hand ever so slightly higher up your leg, falling to play with the hem of your dress as he detached his lips from yours to suck on your collarbone with the obvious attempt of planting a hickey. 
Stan skillfully moved you both up to the headboard so that he could deepen the passion of your kiss and you quickly maneuvered yourself so that you were now straddling his lap. 
His growing erection pressed into your centre as he trailed his smooth hands down to the flesh of your hips, his lips dragging down your jaw to find solace in the crook of your neck.
You felt like you were on fire, Stan’s touch was magnetic and no matter how you’d been trying to resist him, it was impossible. You were addicted to how he made you feel. 
Neediness began to bubble through your tummy and you could tell Stan was feeling the same way as his hands were digging into your hips harder than before. Then, his hands began to carefully drag your hips across his hardness, slowly at first. 
You could feel every bump of his length through his thin sweatpants and your hands moved down his toned body to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt. 
His hands began to move faster, dragging your thin panties over his hard, clothed dick. He detatched his lips from your neck when you began to let out tiny, little moans of pleasure, thankful for the little bits of stimulation Stan was feeding you. 
His eyes trailed down your body, admiring every single bump and curve: the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, your soaking panties rubbing against him as his hands moulded perfectly with the fat of your hips. They then fell on your face, growing darker at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows, messy hair and plump, red lips from you biting down too hard on them. 
Likewise, you were admiring Stan, his sharp jawline clenching and unclenching every time you dragged yourself over his most sensitive spots, his hair uncharacteristically messy from your hands tugging on his curls. He noticed your movements speeding up and he flashed you a dangerous grin; a grin that would make even the biggest prude on the planet drop her panties to her knees. 
Acknowledging your shaky hands still fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, he slowed the movement of your hips with his strong hands and dragged you painfully slow now, refusing to let you continue with the rapid pace you’d set before. 
“You want this off, baby?” referring to his t-shirt. You nodded shyly, hands still fiddling with the hem. 
“Want me to take it off for you? Are you too dumb to do it yourself?” He stared up at you with a patronising look on his face. You groaned annoyedly, but deep down your cunt throbbed with anticipation.
“Just take it off Stan, don’t be a dick.” You glared down at him but your glare immediately switched to a look of shock as Stan’s hands had stopped your hips moving completely now, denying you any release that you were desperately craving. 
Narrowing his eyes playfully, he tutted at your lack of control. “Now, that’s no way to ask for what we want is it, sweetheart?” The corner of his lips tugged up satisfactorily as he took in your menacing glare, but also your glossed over eyes indicating your desperation for his cock. 
‘Oh, how cute,’ Stan thought pityingly. ‘The poor, little slut’s already gone dumb and I haven’t even fucked her yet.’
You breathed through your nostrils fiercely before succumbing to the begging of your aching clit and gave Stan your best doe eyes before tugging pathetically at the hem of Stan’s crumpled shirt. ‘Please take it off Stan, I’ll do anything, please..’ You pressed down on his length for extra measure just to make sure he would give you what you needed. 
A low hum of appreciation mixed with a strangled groan of pleasure escaped Stan’s throat and he mulled it over for a few seconds with that irritating smirk plastered on his face before nodding, clearly satisfied with your begging before he lifted his slender fingers to his collar and removed his shirt - finally. 
You took a moment to appreciate the art that was Stanley Uris' abs and sighed contentedly. It seemed your hands had a mind of their own as you wasted no time in rubbing your hands up and down his beautiful torso, gliding over the valleys and hills of his defined muscles.
"Enjoying yourself there, princess?" Stan chimed, clearly cocky that you'd spent about 30 seconds just groping him absentmindedly.
Tearing your eyes away, you glanced up at Stanley's face, adorned with a shit-eating smirk, one of his hands resting behind his head, the other still gripping the fat of your hip, rubbing gentle circles into your flesh.
Slightly embarrassed but, nevertheless, growing quite needy now, you rolled your eyes.
Eyes narrowing at the evil spawn, you thought 'The ego of this man is absolutely atrocious. How dare he try and make fun of me for admiring his physique when if I decided to strip naked right now, his reaction would probably beat mine.'
And then it clicked.
Focusing back on Stanley's disgustingly smug face, you did something you'd never done for Stanley Uris in your entire life.
You gave him a real genuine smile.
The apples of your cheeks beamed down at him and your eyes sparkled lovingly at the boy who was now slightly confused and, albeit, a little bit scared.
Slowly, you leaned down over Stan so your breath tickled his nose and your lips brushed gently against his, just in time to see his cheeks tinge red and his eyes flutter closed, like a naïve teenage girl who was experiencing her first kiss.
Aw, how cute.
Finally, you pressed your lips to Stanley's, so softly Stan thought he might've been kissing a cloud, and just left them there, in a gentle peck, before sitting up again to admire the look of bliss on Stan's face.
His eyes were fluttering open again and his breathing was shallow but fast.
This was the real face of Stan; he had finally taken off his mask for you.
He was so pretty, obviously you knew that already, but you couldn't get lost in his beauty again or your plan wouldn't work.
Then, when he dazedly smiled up at you and made to pull your head down so he could kiss you again, you teasingly began to lift up the hem of your dress until it had been lifted over your head and discarded somewhere on Stan's bedroom floor.
There you sat, on Stanley's clothed, throbbing cock, in just your white silk panties, the little bow just oh so enticing, and your bare, perky breasts on display for Stanley's greedy eyes.
His lips parted ever so slightly as he not-so-discreetly took in a sharp intake of breath. His eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed chest, and you knew you had him when his needy little hands reached up to thumb your erect nipples.
Arrogantly, you smirked down at him, your sweet, loving smile erased. However, Stan failed to notice, too enamoured by your naked body, like a toddler in a candy store.
"Aw, you're like a needy, little puppy, aren't you Stanny?" Your heart beat fast as you finally dropped the sentence you'd been waiting to release since Stan's cocky demeanour had surfaced.
Stan froze as he realised what you had done and his jaw clenched automatically, clearly embarrassed that he had let you entice him just how he had you not even a few minutes ago.
Narrowed eyes were glaring into yours and your confident façade faltered slightly as you realised how deep in shit you were now.
He was gonna ruin you.
However, Stan didn't flip you over dominantly so he was on top of you, or rip your panties off in anger like you had expected him to.
Gradually, he eased himself up his headboard so his back was resting comfortably against it and so the two of you were eye-level, 'innocent' doe-eyes levelled with furious, narrowed eyes.
His hands gently gripped you hips and moved you a little further up his chest, so he could remove his sweatpants, so slow and so patient you were so confused.
He looked deadly, that's for sure. But you'd expected him to be rough with you, teach you a lesson for being so naughty. All in all, other than being clearly vexed, he was treating you like you were a china doll.
As soon as his sweatpants and boxers were discarded, he moved you back to your old spot on his lap and carefully caressed your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your thong and pulling at the sides, fiddling with them gently while intently drilling into your eyes with his own.
"You wanna be in control, huh, sweetheart?" He muttered so quiet you could barely hear but so full of malice your heart immediately sped up.
You had no idea what to say. No, you didn't wanna be in control. You wanted Stan to bend and contort you into any position he wanted, you wanted him to fuck your cunt until you couldn't even form a coherent word, you wanted him to paint the canvas of your body purple, pink and black, in the form of hickeys, bruises and mascara stains.
And you knew he knew that.
You knew by the look on his face, the restraint in his jaw, the rage in his eyes that he definitely did not want that either.
So why was he doing this?
Just as your brows started to furrow in confusion, Stan's thumb had started to rub harsh but deliberate circles over your clothed clit and you let out a gasp.
He tilted his head to the side slightly, furrowing his brows in faux confusion. "Is that... not what you want, baby? You see, I'm just a needy little puppy, right?" He spat at you, evidently fuming but clearly enjoying seeing you in such a state.
You shook your head and dropped your it onto Stan's shoulder, moaning softly as he used one hand to hook your panties to the side while the other found your soaking wet hole and gently inserted two very long fingers.
But, immediately he removed them.
Your head shot up in irritation but you relaxed and hummed contentedly as you realised that Stan was finally lining himself up with your entrance.
You lifted yourself up slightly to make room for his 'oh my god that's scarily big why am i only just noticing this' cock, fluttered your eyelashes closed, and waited for the stretch of him pushing up into you... but it never came.
The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Stan's eyes, still level with yours, looking bored and his hands, once again, behind his head, biceps flexed and causing a big distraction for you.
He looked at you pointedly, but, realising you still didn't get it, rolled his eyes and motioned for you to sit on his cock.
At this point, you would've jumped off a cliff if Stan asked you to if it meant he would grant you some form of release, so you carefully began to lower yourself down onto his tree-trunk of a dick, the stretch of it stinging slightly but the depth of it stimulating you in all the right ways.
You let out a guttural moan as you sat on the base, his cock bottomed out inside of you. You gripped Stan's toned shoulders with force and wiggled about slightly, trying to adjust to this new, amazing feeling and, as you wiggled, you noticed a slight tremor in his mask as his jaw clenched and his eyebrows briefly furrowed in pleasure.
But, as quickly as it faltered, it reappeared and Stan's stoic, unimpressed gaze fell on you once again.
"Well?" He rasped, as if what he wanted was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're in control, right, babe? I'm not moving a muscle."
You knew immediately that he was not kidding, so you bottled up the impatience you had for this stupid, stubborn man and put your game face on.
You could get off without help from Stan, of course you could. You didn't need his touch when you could do a perfectly good job with your hips and your hands.
'Fine.' You thought, glaring at Stan with pure hatred in your eyes. 'Suit yourself.'
So you began to move up and down on Stanley's cock, feeling every vein and twitch as you dragged your walls all over his length, coating it in your slick.
You gripped Stan's flexed biceps, his arms unmoving from behind his head as his eyes flickered between watching your face slowly morph into a dreamy, fucked-out expression, soft, pretty moans escaping from your parted lips every time the tip of his cock would prod at your g-spot, and watching your glistening, stretched out cunt swallow up his length, each time producing more and more slick so every time you slammed back down on his base, you could hear a squelching noise.
The only sign Stan was giving away of him holding any emotion was the twitch of his jaw and brow growing more frequent as the speed of your bounces grew quicker and harsher.
Soon, your bounces grew erratic as you craved your release, the only noises in his room being your desperate whimpers of pleasure, the sound of your wetness, and skin slapping on skin, along with the occasional grunt of approval from Stan.
However, you started to grow tired and out of breath as it had been nearly 5 minutes of you bouncing up and down on Stan's length, with no help from him and your determination to beat Stan at his own game was overwhelmed by your desperation to cum, and you knew you had to admit defeat because you were never gonna cum if you carried on like this.
Reluctantly, you sank down onto Stan and stilled with him deep inside you as you breathed heavily and whimpered with the desperation to cum deep in your tummy, your clit throbbing, begging for release.
Stan's furrowed face quickly changed to that of faux sympathy as he moved his hands to rest on your waist, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. "Oh baby, are you tired? Do you need my help?" He asked, patronising you just a little bit further by stretching out 'need' just to annoy you.
You had no time to be annoyed, however, because you could feel your release creeping just that little bit further away from the loss of stimulation, so you nodded your head frantically, practically begging Stanley to help you with your pathetic little doe eyes, glossy and desperate.
"Please, Stanny, please I need it, I need you, just please make me cum." You whined, your lips ghosting his ear, and gently kissing his cheek just for good measure.
That was all Stan needed to hear as he grabbed your neck, squeezing gently as he brought your face back to his and kissed you harshly, bruising your lips with his teeth as he dragged your lip with him, pulling away, and then releasing it.
"See, that wasn't so hard was it!" He smiled gently at you, pecking your plump, red lips and squeezing your neck in approval, before he moved his hands back to your waist, his grip turning nasty and he lifted you up right to his tip, then plunging his hips upwards into yours.
You choked on your moan from the sheer force of his thrust but soon gained your voice back as he continued his rough, rapid thrusting up into your eager pussy, practically dripping, begging for a long overdue orgasm.
You collapsed your tired aching body on top of Stan, your head buried in his neck, muffling your high-pitched moans from the ears of your drunk parents downstairs.
Stan moved his hands down to your ass and gripped the flesh harshly and his thrusts were slamming repeatedly into a spot that made you clench fiercely down on him and shriek with overwhelming pleasure.
Stan groaned into your ear as you continually clenched around him, whispering filthy praises into your ear making your legs tremble and your stomach flip as your impending orgasm was getting closer and closer.
"Can you hear yourself, princess? Can you hear the noises your pretty pussy is making?" The squelching of your wetness was embarrassing to say the least and you could feel Stan smirking without even having to look at him.
As he kept hitting that same spot, you could feel yourself so close to the edge as your legs trembled and your moans grew louder and higher.
"I'm gonna- I'm gonna come, Stanny." You managed to babble out through your whimpers as you felt that overwhelming rush of pleasure build up deep inside you.
Stan lifted your head up and grabbed it with both of his hands whilst still thrusting repeatedly in and out of your sopping cunt, forcing you to look into his eyes.
He had a look of pure concentration adorning his face, brows furrowed, jaw clenched and hair messy, letting out little breathy moans of his own every now and then.
"That's it princess, I wanna see that pretty face when you come all over my cock." And the coil snapped.
You let out a scream of pleasure as your entire body jolted, your orgasm washing over you, your toes clenching and your pussy spasming around Stan's length.
You collapsed onto Stan once again, letting out tiny moans, clearly exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm Stanley had given you, and the spasming of your cunt had clearly not been lost on him as his relentless thrusting had begun to grow sloppy.
Stan was moaning quite loudly in your ear now, a death-grip on your ass cheeks as he fucked up into you, chasing his own high.
You knew he needed a little push so you sat up slightly so you could whisper in his ear breathy and raspy like someone who was recovering from one of the best orgasms they'd ever had in their life, "I want you to come inside me."
The words that make every man orgasm on the spot did not lose their effect on Stan as he let out a loud groan of ecstasy and his thrusts slowed until they came to a stop, clearly having done what you asked.
He dropped his forehead to yours and grabbed your hands, fiddling with them as you both caught your breath.
Holy shit.
You didn't know what to do as you both just lay there gathering your thoughts, attempting to comprehend what just happened.
However, you knew you couldn't stay in this post-orgasmic bubble forever so you gently lifted yourself off of Stan's softening dick and got up to look for your dress.
You were halted, however by a hand closing around your wrist.
Turning around, Stan was lazily grinning up at you with a look of victory on his face as he was dragging you to lie back down on the bed with him and you couldn't help but smile back at him, full of a mysterious feeling for the boy who was just so beautiful.
How could you say no?
Climbing back into bed with him, you both turned to face each other, him still grinning at you, and you studying each and every freckle and blemish on his skin, realising that you loved each and every one of them.
You loved them.
Oh my god.
You loved Stan.
Suddenly, you burst out laughing and Stan jumped slightly before a grin erupted back onto his face as he asked what was so funny.
You managed to get through your laughter, barely, the words that you never thought you'd say in your life. "I- I'm in love - with - with you." Before you immediately started giggling again uncontrollably.
Stan joined in on your laughter, his shoulders moving up and down from the force of his laughs as he breathed out "I'm in love with you too."
You both laid there giggling uncontrollably like a pair of middle schoolers, laughing at your own stupidity.
Once the laughter died down you smiled up at Stan and nuzzled yourself into his chest, planting a few soft kisses there as he pulled you in closer and buried his nose into your hair.
You were drawing shapes on his arms, daydreaming in the comfortable silence when you heard Stan mutter into your hair something inaudible.
You sat up gently looking at him quizzically for a second until you noticed the look of pure adoration on his face that was directed to you before he said gravelly and clearly exhausted, "I hate you so much." before he buries his face into your neck and peppered you with kisses.
You giggled and whispered, "I love you too, stupid."
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ladyceej · 2 months
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Reblog to Help with an Urgent Request
I know the world sucks right now, and I actually feel guilty for thinking that being super stressed about my parents is urgent, but I'm not sure what I'll do if I lose one of them, and I wasn't there for them. https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-familys-urgent-move-to-oregon
That there link is a link to a gofundme, for me, to drive my animals across Canada and down to Oregon. Because one of my animals is an elderly Ewe, I don't have any other options for transport. I did think I could get her on a plane, but she is too big for a 500 crate and that is the limit the airlines will let her be. Body of the gofundme discription: I am trying to move my family out of Alaska to take care of my parents down in Oregon. Both my parents are going through cancer treatments, and my father is having a rougher go with it than my mother. I would like to move closer to them so not only will they have myself and my spouse closer to them in case of the worst scenario of losing them both (which it hopefully won't come to), but to also help them as neither can do as much as they use to in home maintenance, and whatnot. I need to be there for them and I'm thousands of miles away. It's starting to seem that it doesn't matter how much overtime I take, my paychecks don't allow me to save past paying monthly bills. The main thing I need help with on moving, are my elderly animals and transportation.
My vehicle will need repairs before I can drive it down the Al/Can highway. I will need to add a tow bar to the back of it. I will need a small livestock trailer to transport my elderly ewe. To cross over Canada, they will all need health certificates from the vet. Lastly, I will need some travel crates for my dogs/cat. I've done most of my pricing from Facebook Market Place and Craigslist to do most of this 2nd hand.
I'm just very stressed and worried about my parents and how I can't seem to get any closer to this goal of moving. They had already built a place for the sheep in the past when we first talked about moving closer. Once there, I'll find new employment, and live with my parents, helping with their bills, but being able to save to hire movers to bring my belongings from storage down to Oregon. I just need help to get my family down there.
I've shared photos of my Dad from 2019 compared to photos of him now with close friends (I don't think he'd appreciate me sharing them on a reblogable public tumblr) and he's lost about 150 pounds, most of that in just the past year. But what I can share, is pictures of said animals.
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This is Salt. She is 9 and has been a little lonely since our Ram, Dr. Livingston, passed away. She is the main reason this is such an expense. I'm not willing to give her to another person/farm that will likely turn her to mutton. I've had her since she was a lamb and we love her dearly.
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Here are the Doggos, Diego (14), Romeo (13) and Pepper (11). They're all up there in age, and will need health certificates and their regular vet check ups. I also plan on getting them hard sided crates from facebook market place or craigslist so they have some privacy on the way down. Diego is special needs, and prefers to be left alone. Romeo has a history of singing along with the radio, so I think he'd be the biggest stresser for Diego and also for the last passenger:
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Pumpkin is an 18 year old kitty. (Black cat in 2nd picture is Salem, who is no longer with us, I just really love that picture of them snuggling) She's a little grumpy and doesn't get along with Romeo and Pepper all that well. She ignores Diego and just tolerates the other two. She does get along pretty well with Salt though. So please pass this along. I really hope to get to my parents so I can help them out and hopefully not have to say goodbye over the phone.
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hailey-murdock · 1 year
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In every universe
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Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!reader
Warnings: None, just pure fluff
Summary: after a planned picnic date doesn't go according to plan, Matt doesn't let the inconvenience get in his way of a date with you
WC: 986
AN: I got inspired to write this since it was raining and @little-miss-dilf-lover encouraged me to write it so why not. (Reblogs, comment and likes are appreciated)
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Matt's schedule was starting to become hectic, with the way the firm gained recognition from the Punisher trial. Even if they didn't win the case, their statements were outstanding. It seemed like client after client would come into the office.
Yet no matter how busy Matt was, you were patient with him and understanding. Something that Matt truly appreciated, far from what you could understand how greatly he was.
Sometimes, well often with Matt needed to work overtime at the office, or doing research for certain cases.
Other times you'd help out, nights like those usually ended with getting takeout and you helping Matt out with a few things you'd know from your job, as a journalist at The Bulletin.
Matt would tell you that you didn't need to help him, but you always told him that you wanted to. Even if it was doing work either way you spent time with him.
But Matt made sure that he would spend the entire weekend with you. He desperately wanted to get his mind off of all the stressful work. Just wanting to savor the time he had with you. Matt had an idea of one of the ways to show you how much he missed you.
It was a picture-perfect day for a picnic at the park with Matt on the weekend. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the breeze carried a pleasant warmth.
Matt had surprisingly prepared a delicious spread of sandwiches, fruits, and desserts, for you. The sound of laughter filled the air.
"You know, you really didn't have to do all of this Matty"? A smile formed onto your face, as you laid out the picnic blanket onto the grass.
The picnics had been a tradition for Matt and you, moments of respite from your busy lives and a chance to enjoy each other's company in the tranquility of nature.
Unfortunately, with how busy you and Matt are, there hasn't been time to go on your picnic dates like before.
"I know, but I missed this. The dates we would have- you deserve this. With the way I've been neglecting you and-", Matt felt ashamed for how he hasn't treated you properly the last few weeks.
Before Matt could continue, you interrupted him. "Hey, hey, don't give me that bullshit Matt. You've done nothing wrong. What matters is now, not the past. I understand you're busy with Foggy and the firm. You know that I love you either way, don't you Matty"?
Your hand grabbed his hand to move over where your heart is, so he could feel your steady heartbeat. It didn't matter if he could literally hear that you were telling the truth. You wanted Matt to feel it.
The small gesture made his own heart skip a beat. "I know sweetheart and I love you too. You that, don't you sweetheart"?
Your grin only grew bigger by the second. "Of course I do baby, now if that catholic guilt is eating you up, you better sweep me off my feet with what you have packed to eat".
Matt chuckled at your response, which only made him love you even more. "Though I already did that when we met at Josie's"? Matt teased you.
"Yeah yeah, we get it Matt. You're a charmer", a giggle left your mouth as you began unpacking your carefully prepared meal and settling in for a relaxed afternoon under the clear blue sky.
All of a sudden, just when you had sat down along with Matt, dark clouds suddenly rolled in without warning. The sky transformed from a vibrant blue to a somber gray, and droplets of rain started to fall sporadically.
"Dammit- it wasn't supposed to rain today. I'm so sorry sweetheart, if I had known it was gonna rain I would have chosen something else for a date", guilt and frustration was starting to feel Matt's gut.
"Matty, don't apologize for something you didn't know and can't control". The rain had begun to become a bit more strong, than from a few minutes ago.
"Fine, let's just pack up and-", a light bulb switched on Matt's head as he stopped talking.
"What?", you got confused as all of sudden Matt got quiet. Undeterred by the unexpected change in weather, Matt decided to make the best of the situation.
Not wanting their date to go to waste, Matt looked with a mischievous spark in their eyes at you before saying, "May I have this dance, my lady?"
Without missing a beat, Matt's lips curved into a smile as he bowed down in front of you. It was silly to see Matt's gesture, "Are you crazy? We're gonna get a cold!"
"You didn't say no, so I'll take that answer as a yes", Matt took your hand and pulled you close to him, with a smirk on his face.
"If we get sick, I'm blaming you Murdock", you chuckled as you looked up at him. As the rain made most of the people leave, you took off his glasses, since there was no one to judge him without his glasses.
"Yes ma'am, now let us enjoy this dance". A squeal hit Matt's ears as he spinned you and then pulled you again to him with one of his hands on your lower back and the other holding your hand.
"Thank you Matty, this means a lot to me", your head rested on his chest as you slowed dance together in the rain.
"Thank you for letting me. I love you sweetheart, more than anything in this world", he pressed a kiss to your head.
"I love you more Matty, in every universe that exists".
Matt knew in that moment that the ring he had prepared for you was gonna be presented earlier than what he had in mind.
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suzukiblu · 8 months
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WIP WEDNESDAY GAME
Taken from @kedreeva.
It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.
file names:
call me cute and feed me sugar
when I see myself, I always know where you are
I'm all yours but you're all mine
a fake cryptid and a real romantic
when you don't believe, that's why you fail
Well, I did "think pink" last week, so it's only appropriate to do all the other DC WIPs I've got going on AO3 this week, right? There's five of them right now, it's just natural! Can't be helped! Totally has to be done!
And just to remind you all, I’m totally cool with people requesting multiple WIPs, but I’d prefer if you sent them in multiple asks! Just a little easier for me that way.
snippet from “call me cute and feed me sugar”:
Tim is pretty sure the date went well, since Kon seemed to enjoy playing with the sensory exhibits, cleaned his plate at the restaurant and finished Tim’s own entrée before going back for dessert, and spent half of the planetarium show star-dazzled and the other half of it making out with him in the back row, and then gave him a goodbye kiss he still hasn’t emotionally recovered from. Like, that seems like a successful date? Or reasonably successful, anyway. 
Planning ahead with a side of psychological analysis has once again paid off, Tim is pleased to note. Definitely worth making the fake IDs. 
Tim snuck way too many pictures, probably, but it’s whatever. Kon didn’t seem to mind, the times he’d caught him. Now he’s gone and set a standard, though, so he’s not sure what he should do for their next date. He’s got to plan it, obviously; he can’t expect Kon to. 
Tim is in his room and already three layers deep into the corkboard he’s planning date options and gift ideas and “is Kon getting enough calories?” math on when Kon texts him, and he stops in the middle of listing the pros and cons of a smart watch as a second-date present to read it. 
He may or may not have given Kon his own text alert and ringtone, but that’s his own damn business.
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Text
You mean the world to me (Mick Schumacher)
Insecurities get the best of Y/N and, while Mick is on holiday, a media post makes her wonder
Note: english is not my first language. I know this has taken me so so so long to write but time just has been very tricky and I can't seem to juggle it all!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated, and while I'm not actively taking requests, I am writing some blurbs when I can (honestly, it's a very rare thing these days) so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!
Tw: mentions anxious symptoms, feelings of being unworthy/insecurities
"Are you sure there isn't a way you can join?", Mick asked, looking at your calendar app with you by his side, "no, I mean, there's these two days here but that would be the travelling alone. I'd get there and spend 24 hours maximum with you before having to hop on a plane back home to be at this client", you pointed, "That's true, yes", he said before rubbing his forehead, "so you're not joining, it sucks, but is is what is is, I guess".
"I'm sorry I can't go, I'd really like to, but with all of this in my schedule and the distance I would have to travel, it just doesn't make sense. We'll do it together another time", you offered, squeezing his other hand that was on top of the table and helping him balance his body, "sure".
.
"Hi, liebling, how are you?", Mick asked over the phone, the noise on his side of the line contrasting with the quietness of your shared home on your end of the line, "I've been good, tired, but at least things are progressing well at work, seems like they finally understand that when we have meetings, we can actually get things done if they stop talking about everyone's business", you giggled, hearing a faint smile in Mick's voice, "I'm glad you're okay. We are actually going on a boat now, I'm not sure how good the service is once we leave so I'm calling you now", he explained, leaving you to talk a bit more before he had to depart, "wish you were here, liebling. As soon as you're able, I'm getting you here with me. Hopefully soon, yeah?".
.
Your work meetings had actually been productive for once, not making you regret the decision to stay home while Mick travelled. All of the pictures he would send you of him and his friends showed him having a great time, which you were happy about, knowing that that quality time was well deserved.
What you did not see pictures of was the article that had popped in your browser. It was by far something you did on a regular basis, but by some reason or another, you opened the article stating what you could only interpret as a mean, mean joke. As you scrolled down, allegations that Mick had been seen with someone else, "fondly flirting" as the article read, started gaining force and body, different blurry pictures and supposed witnesses' reports filling the page while your mind filled with worries. That was not something you had ever considered, after all you trusted your boyfriend completely, but you couldn't stop the thoughts or shake away the possibility of that actually being true. What evidence did you have? An article that could well be false and just a poor attempt at meddling in your private life, but pair that up with the feelings of uneasiness you had since you couldn't join Mick in the trip and your mind couldn't let the idea go. Tears fell from your eyes as your knee bounced under your desk, your hand shaking as you managed to close the Internet page while your thoughts repeatedly made you doubt. It wouldn't be the first time you heard something like that, after all, relationships come and go, and did Mick have any reason to look for someone else? You both had always agreed that from the moment it didn't feel right to any of you, you would talk to eachother to see a way to solve it, and if you didn't have a way to solve it other than break up, that would be it. Had Mick skipped the first step of the agreement? Or had he tried to talk to you about it and you didn't see where he was at already? Had you been so blind to it? So lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Mick arriving back with Angie from their walk until you felt Angie's paws on your lap, asking to get up and snuggle you like she had done many times while you felt like this.
"Angie, do you want some water or so-oh. Y/N, are you okay? What happened?", Mick asked, his hand coming to tub your back as Angie placed her head in your chest area, the weight helping you regulate your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, my love. Everything's fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something that always calmed you, and your heart panged a little bit more. He was the one that knew how to calm you down, but maybe there would be a day where it wouldn't be him, where he would have enough of the way you preferred things and leave you behind, and maybe that day was today. Letting out a big deep sigh, you looked up at your boyfriend's blue eyes, "you know I will never judge you, especially for anything you've done when I don't know the reasons behind it but... what are your intentions here? You know you can be honest with me, Mick", you asked, your lips trembling slightly.
Mick was confused, not understanding where the conversation came from and where it was leading, "what do you mean, Y/N? I know I can be honest with you, I am honest with you. Did I do something to make you doubt that?", he wondered gently, "have you seen something that made you doubt that?", he said as his expression hardened slightly, his jaw locked as he waited for an answer.
Grabbing your phone, you typed in the page you had seen the low quality pictures, "this popped up today", you said, offering him your phone so he could scroll and see for himself, his eyebrows quirking up as he read the words on the screen, "and you believe this?", he said after what felt like an eternity, "is that why you're doubting me?", and while his words and tone stung, your mind could inly list why he would leave you.
"I don't want to, I really don't want to believe in them, but my mind always comes back to them, to the words, and I can't shake them off", you said, your voice little as you looked at him, "so you believe what they are saying?", Mick confirmed, trying to get to the root of the problem, "Liebling, I'm with you, and I don't want to be with anyone else", he said calmly, trying to get you to embrace his body as he stretched his arms, your immediate reaction making your wrap your arms around yourself to control the shaking of your body, even pushing Angie a bit to the side.
"This may be what you want now, but what about a day where you realise you're bored of me and leave me?", you whispered, the tears that were caught on your throat flowing freely now as you looked at Mick while keeping a safe distance from him, "what? Y/N, no, no, no, no. Y/N, I'll never do that to you, never. Don't you trust me?", he asked, the gentleness in his voice leaving slowly, "I trust you, Mick. But it's so hard, I-, I'm reminded of how different I am from everyone else around you, everyday, how I don't have the same they have, and-, and how do I know that?", you questioned as you wiped the tears on your face. Your boyfriend looked at you with uncertainty, "Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth. I love you, I have loved you and I'm going to continue to do so", he tried to reason, "If we're not on the same page, we are just wasting out time in this relationship", Mick said and it felt like a dagger through the heart. But it hurt even more because you knew it was the truth. How could you both be in a relationship like that?
Looking at the garden, you tried your best to deal with your emotions and the thoughts running through your head, "I can't talk right now, I'm sorry. I'm tired, I'm afraid I'll say things I'll regret later and I don't want to do that, I don't want to do that to you", you said getting up and heading to the home office, not before hearing a muttered "I love you" from Mick, feeling himself that prolonging the argument would only lead to worse than it had.
You must have fallen asleep in your chair, the small pain in your neck allowing you to come to your senses quickly, your mind also not giving you a break before your mind filled with thoughts, the same ones you've had for a while. Truth being told, you had been feeling unworthy of Mick for a bit. How everyone around him always seemed to have time to go on his adventures, how they loved to be in groups and how you did not fit in the type everyone seemed to think the young driver deserved.
Heading to the kitchen, you looked at the time on the oven to see that it was just past dinner time, not seeing anything that indicated that Mick had the meal already. While you waited for the water to boil so you could make some tea, your hands tapped on the counter, Mick's words from before getting to you. Were you going to call it? Especially like this? Were you on different pages? Did he think you didn't deserve him either? All thoughts spiralled, the kettle long forgotten as you started to feel tingles on your legs, almost like you were incapable of standing on them, making your rest your back on the wall, letting your body slide slowly until your butt hit the floor while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.
You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you felt the floor vibrate almost, the feeling not getting enough time to be processed as another texture caught your senses, soft fur along your arms before you felt what you recognised as Angie's tongue lick your cheek, her snout later making you tilt your chin upwards while you heard your boyfriend's voice, "Liebling, Y/N, liebling, hey...! Breathe for us, yeah?", Mick said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, looking for his hand to hold while Angie managed to lay on top of your legs.
"That's it, nice and slow, very good. You're doing so good, my love, so good", Mick said as he rubbed your knuckles, "big, deep breath, just like I'm doing", waiting to see some colour come back to your face and for you to return back to a normal breathing pattern, the tears now concerning him, "what's the matter?", he said gently, "are you going to break up with me?", you forwarded, "just be honest, it is a yes or no question", you yelped.
Shaking his head and himseld out of his stance, Mick sat in front of you, "Y/N, I'm not breaking up with you", he clarified, "I understand now that the way I said it was not the best, but we need to talk it out. But to me it doesn't mean that, not until we fight for it, fight for us", he smiled softly, seeing you calm down almost totally, your hands a little shaky still while the Australian Shepherd looked up at you, "your head is heavy, miss Angie", you chuckled, finally feeling her head on your legs.
Helping you get up once you felt strong enough to do so, Mick handed you a cup of water and let you drink it, watching you closely before grabbing your hand, "can we talk about it?", he said, "I don't want you to feel worse, but I don't like to be like this with you either", he explained while you nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand in yours as you walked to the sofa in the living room.
"First, I want to apologise for what I said. I know that I said it and I can't undo it, I know it hurt you, and that is something I never want to do, ever", Mick started, "so, I'm sorry, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, "but, like I said, I want us to talk about it because I feel like that will be how we understand what is going on", he encouraged you.
Gulping, you fiddled with his fingers, "I feel like, sometimes, I'm not what you deserve", you started, "like you could do so much better", you were interrupted by him, "I'm sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", Mick said, "It's not your fault", you said, looking around the room, "I get insecure about it. That you'll leave. About how I am different than the rest of your friends' and their partners, how I can't go on all these trips because I have work, how I'll never look like the beautiful women that surround you everywhere and that support you around the world, but I also know that you love me just like that and would never make me change who I am, it's just the articles, it messed me up, I'm sorry too", you whispered, your voice cracking fully as the tears left your eyes, Mick's hand stretching to wipe them.
"You mean the world to me, Y/N. You're the most beautiful woman out there and I only care about you. And I want to see you thrive, wether it is in work or other things, I want to see you happy and be the luckiest man in the world that gets to be loved by you, to see you be an even better person everyday", he said as he looked at your lips, "I want you to be with me on trips and adventures, sure, but I will never ask you to drop everything you have and come with me just for that", he mused, "and I would never ever do anything like that to you, nothing they wrote ever crossed my mind. I love you too much to every hurt you like that, and it bothered me that you considered it. I now understand why, so", he kissed the top of your head before looking back at you, eye to eye, "anytime you have these doubts, you can come and talk to me. And I mean it. I'll make sure to remind you everyday of how much I love you and how you mean the world to me", he smiled, seeing a sparkle in your eyes, "Thank you for being so understanding", you said, "I love you, Mick", you smiled, "so so so much", before locking your lips with his, Angie wagging her tail around you, "are you doing that because you want some food?".
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koka-mi · 26 days
Note
hii koka how have you been doing recently?^__^
as always feel free to go on a rant / yap session :ppp
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AAAAA HI RAVEN HI RAVEN YAAYAYAY!!!!!!! :DDDDD
I'VE BEEN DOING PRETTY ALRIGHT!!!! >:D I've already mentioned this before BUUUT yesterday my grandma came over to do my hair after who knows how long..I think the last time she did it was when I was 12?? so it's been four years :'D and she was a little sloppy in the beginning bcz it's been so long but she got the hang of it pretty fast!
AND IT TOOK SIX. HOURS. tbh that's not that bad--if I actually went to the salon it would've taken longer :p bcz they have multiple ppl to work on ykyk but that's okay. My mom and grandma were talkin a lot about some random stuff while doing my hair like how much my grandma hates her coworker and yadyadyaydaysh and they fought abt a few stuff but got over it super fast--their relationship is just super rocky so a lot of convos they get mad at each other for something xD but it's okay 'cause I was minding my own business playing on my vita and reading tbhk >:D AND I HAD HALF A CARTON OF ICE CREAM!! IT WAS SO GOOD ABSHFBDSAHBF I WANT SOME NOW but I haven't had breakfast yet SO I GOTTA EAT THAT FIRST xD
so now my hair is thisssss black and red mixture?? It looks better than it sounds I promise BAHSBDHSAB the red isn't like neon or anything so it's fine ! It's more of a burgundy to be honest--which looks pretty good with the black! My mom picked it out bcz she wanted me to match her :3 her hair is a similar color :D only thing is I hateeeee having my hair down so that sucked to deal with while it was getting done :'D I just don't like longer hair tbh it gets in the way when I'm trying to do like.anything. and I don't like how it feels when it goes down my back--so I usually have it in either plaits or a ponytail. SPEAKING OF PLAITS I AM NO LONGER ROCKING THE MOEMURA LOOK :[[ I MEAN..I'M SURE I COULD STILL HAVE MY HAIR IN TWO BRAIDS BUT IT WOULDN'T BE THE SAME WITH THE RED THERE :'D AND WITH THE WAY MY HAIR IS NOW IT'D BE HARDER TO PUT IT IN TWO BRAIDS CAUSE THERE'S JUST.SO MUCH OF IT BASHDBJ I still have the red glasses though so my moemura swag is still prominent!! >:D
OOH YES AND ON MY VITA One of the games I was playing was the battle pentagraam and there were a few kyosaya moments I noticed in some stories that were suuper cute <3 !! I wish I took some screenshots!! (I think I took like.one xD I SHOULD'VE TAKEN MOREUGHHGUHGU. maybe I can still show later when I transfer them from my vita to my laptop!! :3). I also played some project diva, im@s and neptunia! :D
and now I'm watching some pmmm amvs and mmvs!! I just love watching the way people connect certain scenes or panels to song lyrics! or sometimes it's not even to the lyrics, it's just to the general feel of the song. it's so creative!
HEHE ALSO THE KYOKO PICTURES MADE ME LAUGH BAHSBDHFBHASBFAS TYTY FOR THEM xD I LOVE HERRRRR RAAAGGHH
YAYAYAYA TY FOR ASKING RAVEN!! <3 AS ALWAYS FEEL FREE TO REBLOG/REPLY WITH HOW YOU'RE DOING OR FEELING!!
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sophieinwonderland · 3 months
Note
Hello Sophie, I'm Rune, a tulpa in the "Ross" system. You've done some great wonders for our community and my system and for that I thank you a thousand times. I'm sure you've gotten plenty of responses to THAT post you blogged yesterday, and it made me feel pretty conflicted. I understand where you're coming from, but it still seemed harsh. Do you genuinely believe it's a mistake for anti endos to receive love? Or any of the other points you made (I didn't disagree with all of them)? Maybe I'm too much of a pacifist, but I felt like that crossed a line we as a community shouldn't. I'm aware they also use tactics like these and worse ones, but it still feels wrong to me.
Sincerely, Rune 💜
Genuinely? I don't know...
I had a whole post typed up saying that I don't honestly believe that, that it was mostly about getting a reaction, but the more I've thought about it the angrier I've gotten.
When SAS's main blog was doxxed by AEV and their friends, I watched the whole anti-endo community cheerfully defend it.
When there was a vent sent to AEV talking about wanting endogenic systems to kill themselves, the anti-endo community here ignored it.
When there was a post with a picture saying "Death to the Endos of Tumblr," their community said nothing.
It feels like the absolute lowest bar for human decency in a community is not calling for people to die for existing, and calling out that behavior when you see it, but most anti-endos have failed to clear even that bar.
And it would be one thing if these were small posts from blogs nobody cared about, but the picture calling for death to endogenic systems had 60 notes, and AEV is one of the biggest anti-endo blogs currently.
And let's not forget the "endophobic" flag, a twisted mockery of pride flags, made a few years ago that got 240 likes while the flag was all about how much they hate endogenic systems.
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And including that reblog about how they hope it helps people perceive endogenic systems as enemies and not people to really drive the point home.
(Also... why is there a thin "blue" line in this flag. I know it's not actually blue, but that's what they call it and it's a weird design choice.)
And then I think back again to how Aimkid was bullied off of social media by anti-endos for the crime of being traumagenic system who happened to be pro-endo.
And how despite anti-endos claiming to be doing this all for the sake of trauma survivors, using their trauma as a shield, many of the people who are most hurt by anti-endos are trauma survivors. Either purely traumagenic ones who are bullied by them like Aimkid was, or ones who are mixed origin with CDDs and are denied access to support because they're partially endogenic in some way.
I've said before that people can change. And I believe that. How people are now doesn't have to define them.
But as I look at the anti-endo community as it exists right now, the vast majority just suck and are terrible human beings. If they're not actively participating in the worst actions of their community, they're at the very least seeing it and choosing to remain silent.
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purple-dragon-queen · 6 months
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You said when you were watching the Descendants rise of red teaser trailer you didn't get to pause and look for details since it was a quick watch but assuming you've watched it fully now, can I get your thoughts and opinions?
⚠️ KINDA LONG POST⚠️
I will be sharing MY thoughts and opinions on The new teaser trailer for rise of red, so if that bothers you it's time to ski dazzle off of My post 💋
Feel free to Reblog with your ideas aswell. Would love to see em
Okay so the first thing I thought of when kylie(red) pulled out all the spray paint and start doing her thing, was Mal. Like Disney bae it's giving Mal dupe.
Second and this one got me cracking was The Merlin Academy. Like My brain totally disregarded it as in I FORGOT ABOUT IT, so imagine to my horror when red is spray painting I see them BLAM! Plastered on the wall in all their Evil Glory.
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Okay so I found this picture on Instagram where someone got a close up and other than Ulyanna, Maleficent, Hades and Hook, I don't know who the others are ( sorry not sorry) Now underneath the picture we can see on a plaque the words "vk students" now this made me realize why the title vk was so accepting when the core four came to aruadon, Because it wasnt the first time the title had been given/used.
Now look at this close up of teen Maleficent all I have to say is Wtf is that.
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If those things at the side of her head are supposed to be horns, respectfully she needs to chop them tf off?? And is she wearing a ponytail??? Now I haven't seen Maleficent in a long time but isn't she supposed to have brown hair? Now idc if they give her a different hair color but the outfit and those HORNS especially are not giving!!!.
Like I saw someone do a redesign of this descendantofthesparrow I think and it was jaw dropping absolutely gorgeous, like mam what's your major? Anyways yeah I've seen this person done a ton of redesign and rewrites that when I watch descendants I'm like "oh yeah, this is Canon and the good stuff is fanfic"
Now this whole time travel thing doesn't make sense to Me because am I really supposed to believe that Hades who's older Than all of them by thousands of years went to school with them? Like what.
I'm going to assume Ulyanna is the Leader of the gang because she's in the middle and everyone else is in the back and from what we've seen the Leader is always in the middle.
Now I have a feeling rise of red will be pushing to make Hades and Maleficent a thing so we can see how Mal became a thing, just an assumption. Respectfully If they try to make hook and ulyanna a thing I will jump tf off. There was something else I wanted to say about Hades and Maleficent but I forgot and will most likely reblog this post when I remember.
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now this is the Queen of Hearts and once again Descendants isn't following Canon because I'm pretty sure Carlos mentioned at one point that he used to drive his mom to the queen of hearts castle.
Now if I didn't know already that this is the queen of hearts and u shoved this pic in my fave and was like "girly who do you think this is?" I WOULD NOT SAY THE QUEEN OF HEARTS, I MEAN JUST LOOK AT HER SHE'S RED! Where are the other colors??? There's no white, no black just RED. Now as a theatre kid we've done better, with less money!!!. Disney I hope you are ashamed because you should be.
Now descendants brandy Cinderella has blue hair which doesn't make any damn sense so I'm guessing that's why Chole has blur hair. I really wish there outfits were better because with the og 4 we could tell what their main colors were without it being to much but now It's Def too much. I've got a few more things to add because I feel like I haven't said everything I wanted to so maybe I'll reblog with more later. Who knows
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hillbillyoracle · 1 year
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My Care Kit
I've hesitated posting about this because I know it's not hard for this to get to the wrong side of the site - because even though there's been an awesome shift in the conversation about how care can look at different levels of functioning, we're still not really there yet. So if you're rude in the comments, tags, or reblogs, expect to blocked. Cause I just don't have it in me.
With that out of the way, I wanted to talk about what's been allowing me to be infinitely more regular with skincare, grooming, and to a lesser degree dental routines - my care kit.
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It's not mindblowing or original. I basically just took all the stuff I was storing in the bathroom and store it in my bedroom to use there. I'm sure plenty of people have figured this out before me but it took me a minute to realize how helpful this is.
So what's in here?
Skincare
CeraVe AM Moisturizer
The Ordinary Hyaluronic Acid
Good Molecules Discoloration Correcting Serum
CereVe "in the Tub" - Moisturizing Cream
Differin Gel*
*Differing Gel is something I only use when I take this kit to the bathroom as it's important to wash your hands after using a retinol
"But you're supposed to use it on wet skin!" - yeah I know. I keep a small spray bottle in here to wet my skin before applying
"But that can mold!" - yeah I know. It's a small one and I use it up in a few days before I need to refill it. I try to clean it regularly too.
But ultimately done is better than none. I accept some risk in order to make this accessible to me. My skin is no longer so dry it's cracking and getting infected. Thank god.
Grooming
Native Deodorant - Black Oak + Amber
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab & Sphere and Sundry - Her Eyes That Were Full of Shining Perfume Oil
Kat Von D - Everlasting Liquid Lipstick in "Witches"
Besame Cosmetics - Black Cake Mascara
Tweezerman Tweezers
I don't use all of this all of the time but I appreciate having the option. Sometimes you know you're not getting out of bed but you'd like to look nice. Sometimes looking nice helps you get out of bed.
Not pictured but I keep a small mirror on my shelf near where I store this bag. I use that for make up and tweezing. When tweezing, I wipe the edges off with a tissue then toss it the next time I get up. I also rinse it the next time I use it at the sink. Not perfect, I know. But it helps.
I do have a facial razor in here, but I only use that at the sink at the moment. I also want to swap from disposable to reusable soon. But baby steps and all that.
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Dental
And now for the part that will horrify some people and be saving grace to others.
Disposable pre-pasted toothbrushes
Sea to Summit Collapsible Cup with Lid
I won't be accepting comments on this. It's personal and I hesitated to share this because I know it's polarizing. But I know there's something like me out there for whom this would help a ton.
I have a horrible reaction to most toothpastes. I'm talking brush my teeth for 2 minutes, shitting on the toilet for multiple hours afterwards bad. It is miserable and makes me terrified to brush my teeth. I also have just always struggled with it and been shamed a lot for it.
These dang pre-pasted toothbrushes for some reason I do not react to. Idk if it's the fact I toss them after or the paste they're using somehow doesn't have the thing I'm reacting to but I can finally brush my teeth without unbearable cramps afterward.
I recommend them for people who are depressed, bedbound, or otherwise can't get to the sink to brush their teeth though. For me it falls into the camp of medical waste - which no one should be shaming anyone for - if it's this or nothing.
The collapsible cup will also put some people off. What I do is spit into the cup, cap it, then empty and clean it whenever I get up next. Gross? Maybe. But it works. I've not had issues with smell this way and since it's capped, there's no way to spill it if I lose my balance or accidentally kick it.
Miscellaneous
Holotaco Nail Kit
Badger Sleep Balm
The nail kit was a gift and boy oh boy is it nice. You don't need this one but something like this is a godsend. It is so nice to be able to clip nails back, file them, and clean them up without needing to like make a session of it in the bathroom. I'm considering adding my fav base coat, nail polish, and top coat so I can more easily paint them too.
Badger Sleep Balm has become a part of how I wind down and also how I help recover from panic attacks. I've taught myself some basics of self massage and use this to make it go a little easier. I really recommend learning. There are some good videos on youtube and I get fewer cricks in my neck now.
Conclusion
I really hope this helps someone out. Maybe this doesn't suit your particular use case but I hope it serves as an example that sometimes you're not keeping your desired routines because the environment needs a redesign and sometimes that requires thinking outside the box a little.
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miscling · 2 months
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about miscling (v3)
This is a horny blog for horny blog things. Please don't interact if you're a minor/under 18, go away, shoo. if you follow me, make sure to have some indication of your age in your bio or pinned. i will block you if you don't and you'll miss out on *gestures at self* all this.
call me misc! i am a miscellaneous changeling. a fae creature that is also a doll, girl, toy, kitty, and mama. i'm trans, non-human, queer, kinky, subby, poly, autistic, ADHD, and from the UK. i'd like to meet others who are like me to chat with. i'm particularly keen on developing more t4t connections for play and adventures. for the record, i am a post-op trans woman with a cunt.
this blog is all about engaging in kink. i play regularly and post about the play i engage in. i also post about the play i want to engage in, adventures i go on, and about the weirdness around my own self and identity. i love talking about kink and i love talking about doing kink. i post writings about kink, post pictures with kink, and reblog so many kinky posts about so many different kinks. this blog is so much fun for me.
i love getting asks so send me ideas and fantasies and i'll happily bounce off them and write my own takes on them, or name any kink and i'll infodump everything i know or feel about it. i post about hypnokink, dollification and dronification, masochism and tickling, kitty petplay, mommysub play, edging and chastity, CNC, and monsterfucking with a fae preference.
i am an good girl who loves being obedient and getting lots of praise. i'm an exhibitionist, submissive, and easily controlled by others who make me feel safe and appreciated. i am a wonderful toy for others to enjoy and make an excellent pet and plaything.
if you've got this far then like this post, and then send me an ask with your favourite kink or fantasy, a confession, a task, or a question!
Below the readmore: Tags and Links, Limits, and my ask task list!
Tags and links:
About Miscling contains every post that's about me.
You can find pics of me in Miscling Appears. (it's okay to go on a reblogging and liking spree through them) i make original posts under Miscling Rambles and posts about my lactation journey in Miscling Lactates i also make polls, which you can find in my Miscling Polls tag. you can hear my voice in the Miscling Speaks tag and over at my soundgasm page!
You can send me tasks with my ask tasks meme! I will take tasks from literally anyone ^^ you can see tasks I've done here! If you like or follow my blog, think about sending me a task as a little gift!
I learned to edge last year and was broken by a poll I ran to get permission to cum here then here and here. i hope to never cum again without being forced. i can't be forced to cum over the internet. i kept an edging diary for a while and the last time i came was 1feb24.
I love to write, and I especially like to write about kink. Read bits about my play with Miscling Plays and stories I wrote with Miscling Writes.
Use my ask box liberally, anon or not. i'll answer near anything and you can use my ask meme tag and miscling answers to find questions to ask me (scroll the tag and use any meme you like, but copy in the questions or link the meme!)
I have a lovense wishlist (long distance remote vibrators)
I have an amazon wishlist (lingerie and random kink things)
I have a ko-fi link! (please don't reference anything nsfw on kofi if you use this)
I'm trying to tag my kinks so i can find them when i want them, this is no guarantee that i'll tag things though. mommysub for posts about being a mommysub, goddess thoughts for religionplay where i'm a subby goddess, Bind Miscling for bondage, hit me for masochism, moo for hucow things, lee mood for tickling, oh my circuits for robot/drone things, maid day for maids, tidy up tuesday for my maid day, monsterling for monsterfucking posts, hypno gif, spiral, hypno txt, and hypnaudio, for hypno play, and hypnoslut for general hypno posts, preyling for primal play, latexcellent for rubberwear, and as i figure out others i'll add them...
Also, I have some limits:
i have a nest partner, i won't let anything come between us, i also play with a lot of people and i am not looking for anything remotely monogamous.
i do not like misogyny, transphobia, racism, or bigotry. This applies to kink too.
i don't like unearned possessive language, only people i trust can own me
please don't try to make me cum or ask/tell me to
don't call me a bitch or a puppy. i like puppy petplayers a lot, but i am a kitty petplayer.
i should be treated with care and respect, even
sissy blogs dni, i am a woman, do not reblog my pics to your sissy blog, i will block you if i spot you.
Finally:
i am a toy for others to enjoy!
(Most tasks recieved and completed in one day: 18) (Most tasks recieved on a special occasion: 48)
ASK TASKS: OPEN
use my ask box to send me tasks to do! i'd love to entertain and perform for you all! i am a good and obedient girl, and i enjoy getting tasks to do!
choose one or more task emoji and send them to me! include instructions if you send complicated tasks
tasks can come from anyone, even anons!
i'll do tasks as soon as i can! basic tasks i'll do on my own, but i'll need help for the slightly more complicated ones so they might be a little while!
Mutuals can DM me, and if i'm available we'll play ^^
BASIC TASK LIST!
🗜️ make me wear nipple clamps for 10 minutes! 📦 make me wear 10 pegs on my cunt for 10 minutes! 🤚 make me slap my cunt 10 times! ⚡ choose a part of me and make me use my TENS unit there for 10 mins. 🤐 make me gag myself for half an hour! (tell me what kind of gag to use and if I have it I'll use it, otherwise I'll pick) 👗 make me get undressed and be naked for the next 30 mins! ✏️ make me write what you tell me on my body where you tell me! 💖 make me draw a little heart on myself where you tell me! 🌻 make me write about anything that's on my mind at the moment! 🗣️ ask me anything, name a kink or give me a topic to write about (kinky or otherwise) and make me infodump about it. 🔊 send me a post or a write something for me to record saying, and i'll post the recording. 🫴 make me edge for 10 minutes (Send me instructions, porn, a post to edge to, or a mantra to repeat while I do it, you can use my mantra tag for ideas or my spiral tag.) 🕳️ make me plug my cunt for 30 minutes! 💋 make me go practice deepthroating for 10 minutes! 🍇 make me go get a snack and a drink! ❌ make me go take a break outside for 5 mins! 😴 make me go lay down in bed for 15 mins, no screens allowed.
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nocturnal-desolation · 7 months
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Hello sorry for tagging. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging
Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.
Would you look at that… I have a prime example of how to spot a scam in my asks. It's not very well done, just well enough that some people might fall for it - and some have even reblogged it. You've been redirected to the Fraud Detection Unit, which will take it from here. (actually it's still just me, I'm the fraud detection unit, we have "Fachkräftemangel" in Germany, sorry, jk)
Seriously though… First of all, I'd like to address the fact that it's incredibly sad to play with people's emotions like this. You should be ashamed of yourself, but I'm sure you're not. It's the same with scams asking for help and donations for people and families in Gaza, which has come up a lot recently and is even more despicable because there are actual fundraisers going on (which are official) and these people are in a terrible situation. So to exploit that worldwide sympathy or solidarity and use the inhumane circumstances of these or other people for your scams is disgusting to the core.
But back to this particular ask and blog… The text itself makes no sense. Like, not at all. For example, a " freezing nose" is not a typical symptom of asthma. I've never had asthma, but I'm pretty sure your nose doesn't freeze up when you have asthma. What are you trying to tell me? That you got asthma in the middle of a blizzard? Sorry, I can't help you with that. "Get out of the blizzard!" is all I can tell you. And what is the "maximum level" of asthma? Is that some kind of asthma end boss? Sounds more like you need an ambulance, not money...
That's why it's important to be fluent in English if you want to pretend to be a native speaker. I can't help you there either. I can barely speak my own language, let alone English.
Some other things everyone should notice or look for when getting messages like this:
blog was created fairly recently, no consistency, just reblogged some random things (like posts from 'tumblr staff' lol - no offense) to have something on it at all + obviously otherwise empty blogs that are just begging for money or reblogging other similar posts all the time are even more suspicious
something I haven't seen before either is "Black Lives Matter" being used as bait to appeal to those involved in the movement
randomly generated usernames (what is "toosaladgarden"? I've never had a salad that was too garden, so I don't know - not too important, but in this case it doesn't help to be convincing)
no bio, no age, no country (usually not important, but in this case it is)
non-transparent fundraiser, no one knows why this exact amount of money is needed (I think it even went from $1700 to $1900 since yesterday if I saw that correctly lol) and how the supposed current donations came about (you could put any number in there)
randomly contacted
scammers often use tactics such as emotional manipulation and urgency to evoke sympathy and to prompt a quick response
lack of details, very vague in general, limited information about specific circumstances
But that made me curious and I wanted to know more. You (the scammers) were "smart" enough to use a profile picture that can't be easily traced back to the original source, I'll give you that. But that's a problem for you, because it seems to be the only picture you have of this person with this child, so you had to use it everywhere…
And that's why I was able to trace your picture back to a Twitter / X account that goes by the name "Aska" and the handle askafarao… which also engages in very, very obviously fraudulent requests for money. Every few days or weeks since August 2023, this "X" account posts nothing but new "reasons" why the money is needed. And it's quite funny how little effort they put into it, because the reasons are not creative and half of them don't even add up. But most importantly, somehow there are a couple of different email addresses for different paypal accounts with different names on them. I think we can all agree that unless you're trying to hide something, you don't need more than one name… right? Unless Paypal is going to close your accounts all the time, or you're afraid they will because they're detecting fraudulent activity, you don't need more than one account, right?
TL:DR Let's make this part short and sweet: If you get a message like this, or see a similar post, be aware that it's a scam. Don't reblog it and don't be like, "But what if it's true…" It's obviously not, and when I saw the X account, I actually had a good laugh because this account is a complete mess, even for a scammer.
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