#it's been so rough at work though for sure my body and my mental health is in the gutter which is funny

[lvrhughes]

So It Goes | L. Hughes

pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1.64k

summary: After a year of pining, Luke finally make a move, and the team is there to congratulate him.

warnings: none? drinking?

requested: no

not my gif!

“Are you even allowed to be here?”

The boy looked young, his wild curls covering the tips of his ears, his eyes wide with worry as if he’d been caught, and a crowd of older-looking men stood around him while I asked.

“I- Uh.” 

“He’ll be soon, we just need him to join in on the team bonding.” Another man spoke, he looked similar to the one with the curls, yet not the same.

“I don’t even work here, I was just asking.” You shrugged at him, watching relief flood the younger boy's eyes while a laugh escaped the other.

“That’s fucking hilarious, Luke freaked the fuck out!” 

The curly-headed boy was quick to smack the other, watching him fall slightly from the attack while you tried not to laugh. 

“Well, it’s been nice boys, however, I am out of drinks and in need of a refill.” 

The arena was dark, the occasional spotlight illuminating a small corner, yet you caught his eye. His piercing gaze forcing you back into the wall, you knew the look anywhere. 

Rookie sensation of the New Jersey Devils, a part of the Hughes Brothers, it was always him, wherever you went. His steps were slow, and placed, walking towards you at a pace to tempt you, to get you worked up. 

“Luke.” His name was a whisper on your lips, barely loud enough for him to hear as he approached, his hand running through the curls that had been neatly styled. 

He spoke your name in a deep voice, rough with use from throughout the night, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

You needed to drown them in tequila. 

“What do I owe the pleasure tonight?” His gaze lessened at the question, looking less annoying as he lingered around you.

“Needed to see you.”

There they were again, those pesky flutters that seemed to only cause trouble. You needed a distraction. 

“Well, I need another drink, so if you’ll excuse me for the night,” 

You failed to finish the sentence as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against his while he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. The embrace was over almost as quick as it started, with the tall boy standing quickly and fixing his suit before wandering off again.

The crowd of people seemed to reappear, having disappeared with Luke. They all seemed to have been staring at the boy and you, yet you could never tell, you’d forgotten they’d even been there. 

Slowly, you regained your barings, shaking away the feeling Luke left you with, before walking towards the bar. Waving the bartender over to get another of whatever drink Jack had gotten you before, before his brother came over and seemed to send the world upside down. 

Befriending the boys after meeting them at the bar one night was common sense, they seemed like a good time, which led to you being invited to every event by one boy or the other. Commonly it was Jack, Luke seeming to taking a distaste to inviting you to these events after he found out you had a boyfriend when you met. 

You dumped him a week later when he claimed that you were simply ‘whoring around’ with the entire team. 

You weren’t sure if Luke knew that, Jack did though, being the one you called to get you after you forced your ex out of your shared apartment to back your belongings. Luke had been with the rest of the team at the time, at practice, but Jack was out on a mental health day. 

The room seemed to still stare at you, even alone, it only seemed okay when Luke was near you, the comforting presence of his making the constant stares better. 

You scanned the room, looking for any signs of the tall defenseman, sighing when you failed to find him. Turning back to the bartender as she slid the drink back towards you, allowing a short thank you to slip from your lips and another short sentence of “put it on Jack’s tab” to follow. 

“Putting your drinks on my brother now?” His voice was behind you, leaned against the bar as you turned, seeing the black suit, now missing the jacket, hugging his body perfectly. 

“He said I could.” You grinned, hands itching to reach out and touch him. 

“You know, I could pay for them too.” 

“Lu, this isn’t a competition.” 

“What if I want it to be?” 

The question caught you off guard, staring at the boy for a second before taking a sip of the drink, hoping the slight buzz would help you understand the boy.  

“Why would you want it to be?” 

“So I could win.” 

You paused, once again, if he won, what would be win? What would he want to win? The questions ran through your mind as you tried to decide what to ask him first. 

“If you won, what would you win?”

There was a small smirk on his lips, his hand running through his curls while his other held your waist pulling you closed to where he leaned. 

“You.” 

You froze, the drink in your hand almost dropping, held only by Luke who caught it before it could slip. Your mind was whirling, staring at the boy with wide eyes as he stared by, judging your reaction to his words. 

“Do you think I’d win?” 

The words slipped past his lips with a smile, his eyes nevering yours while he awaited an answer. Your breathing uneven as you listen to his question, butterflies in your stomach seemingly ready to explode. 

“I think so.” 

The way his face lit up was the same as a kid at Christmas, his eyes wide and filled with adoration. His hands moving quickly to discard your drink back onto the bartop, moving to cup your face, letting his fingers slip through your hair in the process. Your hands copied his, moving through his hair to end wrapped around his neck, continuing to run through the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” He kept his voice quiet, leaning forward to speak, pressing his forehead against yours.

All you could do was nod, leaning more into him by the second, waiting for his lips to be on yours. 

His movements were precise, pressing his lips against yours that had you practically begging for more while he was still there. His hands running through your hair now, yours doing the same to him before he dropped his hands, holding your waist, keeping you pulled taut against him. 

His forehead rested against yours as he pulled away to breath, panting softly while staring at you. His pupils dilated, filled with love and lust, their natural green color hidden behind. 

A smile found its way onto your face at the sight, seeing the smudged lipstick on his lips, tinting them a soft pink color, matching the flush that covered his cheeks. 

“You got a little..” you trailed off, wiping your hands over the corner of his mouth, feeling the feather-soft kiss he pressed to your fingers as you did. 

“I’d take being covered in lipstick everyday if it means I get to kiss you everyday.” 

His words were quiet, like a confession he didn’t want the room to hear. The words urging the fluttering feeling of butterflies to erupt in your stomach again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your hands running through the curls at the nape of his neck while he leaned down, nuzzling into the crook of yours.

“Please tell me I won.” 

“You won Luke, and you won’t even need to wear lipstick everyday for it.” 

You could feel his body vibrating with laughter as you held him, his arms holding you in place against him. Slowly his laughter settled, moving to press soft kisses along the collum of your neck instead, feeling how you’d move against him, seeing how far you’d let him go. “Lu,” the nickname came out breathy, barely above a whisper. “Not here.” 

“Let’s go then.” 

His words were short, his movements fast. Grabbing your hand, pulling back, forcing you to follow him towards the door, only slowing when he saw the team staring at him with wide eyes.

Your hands landing on his back as he abruptly stopped, barely catching yourself from falling into him. 

“What?” His voice was timid, as if he was scared that his team would do something horrid to him. 

“Never thought you’d do it.” Nico muttered, shaking his head at the sight of Luke holding your frame against his, taught against his side now while your hands ran up and down his back. 

“I’m impressed, for one.” Jack spoke back, turning between Nico and Luke, catching your eye once within the stares.

“What are you all on about?” Luke’s question was filled with anxiety, it could be heard in his voice, his grip wavering on your waist while you scratched your nails along his back to calm him, feeling his body relax slightly at the movement. 

“You finally got the fucking girl!” Jack cheered, moving quickly to pull Luke from your grasp, spinning  the taller boy in a hug, while the team cheered with him. 

“You freaked me out just to tell me good job?” Luke asked as he pushed his way off his brother, falling back into your arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Yes, it only took you a whole year.” Jack rolled his eyes as he spoke, Nico hitting the back of his head with a glare after. 

“What he meant is we didn’t mean to freak you out, we were just surprised you’d make the move here, but nonetheless, good job.” Nico covered, pushing Jack behind him to pull Luke into a half hug before facing you. “You’re very lucky.” 

“I know.”

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 30. breaking news

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. physical aggression. verbal abuse (not to reader). infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.4k

notes: thank you again for your patience with the chapter! life update: i resigned from my company (on good terms, even though the work had sucked my mental and physical health), and i am soon doing a trip to japan and southeast asia as part of my recovery. still, i will be actively writing and responding since this community is so important to me! also, has anyone been keeping up with jujutsu kaisen's manga?! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Life without a sugar daddy was rough.

As Toji Fushiguro's ex-wife and Naoya Zenin's ex-mistress, Mari faced this harsh reality since no one threw their money in her direction anymore. She slept little this past week, overwhelmed by financial stressors. While she still subsisted on the younger executive's credit card (with his fortune, Naoya hardly noticed the charges on his bill), she realized that she actually had to work for an income.

Such was the case as Mari walked home one evening after interviewing for jobs, her body and mind exhausted from fielding mundane questions about her previous professional experiences (which she had little of).

Upon unlocking her apartment door, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her illuminated living room.

That struck her as odd.

She always switched the lights off before she left.

However, when she spotted a familiar face down the hall, she found the answer.

"Tsumiki." Mari dropped her purse by the door. "What are you doing here?”

The woman had not seen her one and only blood-related child in months. While she knew that her daughter—who was, without doubt, a fantastically accomplished and intelligent young lady—just completed her second year at Oxford University, she thought the girl had chosen to remain in England for her summer break. Didn't Toji mention that she did not want to return to Tokyo?

Not that Mari complained. She was just...confused.

Admittedly, Mari should know the answer to her question, but she had been too ‘occupied’ to contact Tsumiki as much as a good mother should. As a result, Mari found herself in the dark about the girl's life in the United Kingdom, her plans for the university holiday, and her recent classes in…what was her field of study again?

Surely, Toji and his twerp son Megumi would know all the answers since Tsumiki had always been closer to her Fushiguro stepfamily. Quite a shame, since Mari would have considered her daughter as the most perfect angel otherwise.

She toed her shoes off.

“When did you arrive in Tokyo?” Mari continued with a plastered smile and approached the girl sitting with crossed arms in the living room.

Genetics ran deep between mother and daughter. Uninformed observers might even mistake the pair as sisters, the physical resemblance uncanny in how Tsumiki presented a more youthful version of the older woman by sharing the same warm chocolate-colored eyes, long dark hair, and flawless porcelain skin.

Yet, physical similarities meant nothing when Mari could not fully decipher her own flesh and blood.

“I came back to Japan earlier this week,” Tsumiki responded a terse edge in her tone.

“But I haven’t seen you until now.”

“Because I’ve been staying with Dad.”

“Oh.” So, she meant with Toji. “You mean your stepdad.”

“No,” she corrected sternly. “He's my dad.”

Theoretically, Mari could go into a whole tangent on how Tsumiki’s actual father was some middle-class nobody whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to since her first divorce (and that was many years ago). Or how the Fushiguros technically were Tsumiki’s ex-stepfamily since Mari had divorced her second husband Toji earlier this year.

But she spared her daughter from the reminders.

“Well, I’m glad to see you back, honey.” With a bottle of unfinished cabernet sauvignon in the fridge, Mari meandered to the kitchen to pour herself a full glass. She returned to living room and joined her daughter on the sofa. “How have you been? I’m guessing England has been treating you well? I have never been, so I wouldn’t know. Heard that the fish and chips are good there."

No response.

Am I being ignored? Mari commented inwardly and swirled the red wine in her chalice.

She took her first sip amid the long and awkward pause before switching the topic to encourage conversation. "Anyway, whenever you would like, you’re always welcome to stay a few nights here. Wouldn't hurt to spend some more time with your mother."

Only for Tsumiki to quip, “We’ve talked about this before. I don’t want to live with you.”

Now, this—Mari believed—was certainly uncalled for. "Watch your tone with me, young lady."

"For what? I am not here because I miss you," her daughter resumed. "If I had a better option, I would not bring myself to show up here and be in front of you."

The older woman placed her glass down and tried to appear calm. Hearing Tsumiki speak with such contempt twisted a deep knife into Mari's heart. Once upon a time, her daughter had been the sweetest girl—warm, full of life, and eager to express her innocent thoughts with anyone she encountered. Now, however, that same person had been tainted into someone cold, guarded, and withdrawn, demonstrated by her disrespect to the very woman who had given her life.

"That is no manner to talk to your mother," Mari cautioned.

"Well, maybe because I have my reasons."

"Which are?"

"Do you want to know why I did not bother to text or call you these past several months?" and Tsumiki did not wait for an answer before she angrily added, "Because I am so upset that you filed a divorce with Dad!"

While Mari had hoped to not bring up the topic before, she had no choice but to do so now.

"That big, burly, bulky man is not your father," she snapped. "He and his emo Harvard-bound son are not your family! In the eyes of the law, there is no longer any relation between you and them. But, I am your mother. I had given you life, and this is what you think of me?"

"Because I love them!" Tsumiki opposed through a hardened glare. "Dad and Megumi treat me more like their blood-related family than you do!”

Mari could not believe the preposterous words her daughter spewed. She always presumed that the Fushiguros had been corrupting her child, and to see her suspicions confirmed had Mari standing up promptly from the couch.

"How dare you say after all I have done for you, Tsumiki?" Mari interrogated angrily. "Did you think that I left your biological father and then divorced your stepfather for what...for fun?! These choices were difficult for me, too! But I made those judgments because I wanted to give you a better life in which we didn't have to worry about where our next meal, our next piece of clothing, or our next rent payment would come from! Your biological father is a no-name nothing. He could’ve never supported the lavish lifestyle you had experienced during your adolescent years. In fact, if I hadn’t married Toji Fushiguro, you probably wouldn't be studying at the University of Oxford right now! I, alone, could never have afforded all your years of expensive tutors or private school tuition. Please, think before you speak. I know I did not raise an ungrateful brat.”

Tsumiki furrowed her brows from the comments.

“You're the ungrateful one, Mom!” she insisted, and the said woman visibly reeled back when the girl continued to seethe with antipathy. “All the money that you had spent while married to Dad, he never asked for a single cent back. Never. In fact, he still pays for my university. In his eyes and mine, I’m as good as any blood-related child to him. He hadn't asked you to chip in because he knows you wouldn't have the money to. Divorcing the man you've been leeching off of isn't a sign of appreciation, Mom."

To hear her child defend another family, Mari wasn’t sure if she was going to laugh or cry at how ridiculous this scene was, the only thing she could process being the pain and betrayal that slammed her with one bitter blow.

"Well, did you want to become a laughingstock?" the woman rationalized. "Given our ties to the Zenin name when Toji left the company, those nasty journalists would've clung onto any scrap to label you a buffoon. You know what those tabloid writers are like! I had the foresight to divorce that man. I did not want the disgrace if we remained attached to the Fushiguros."

After that response, Tsumiki turned quiet with one sharp exhale as her eyes snapped shut, and Mari, whose entire body had undulated from heavy and irate breaths, thought that finally—finally—she had won this godforsaken argument.

Until she heard the younger girl speak again.

"Yet, you have humiliated me more than anyone," and noticing how her mother quirked a brow, Tsumiki went on. "Who are you really trying to protect, Mom? Are you truly making these decisions for my benefit? Or is it...for yourself?"

Despite hiding a gulp, the older woman noticed her heart race. "What do you mean?"

"How can you explain this?"

As though that was her cue, Tsumiki reached for her phone. She tapped onto the front page of the Yomiuri Shimbun, the most highly circulated newspaper in Japan. Before Mari could read the bold title labeled as 'Breaking News,' Tsumiki provided her with a verbal summary:

"The world knows you're a homewrecker, Mom."

Naoya found no surprise when Naobito Zenin burst into his executive suite as an angry bull would charge toward a provoking cape.

Plenty of times, his father barged into his private office completely unannounced, slamming the door open with enough force to rattle the wooden bookshelves behind him. Usually, the dramatic entrance would be followed by a slew of harsh admonitions, and this encounter—Naoya could tell—would be no different.

The astringency cast on his father's countenance gave the executive no other choice than to rise from his seat, his office chair sliding back so he could pose tall and confident as the heir to Japan's largest conglomerate should be.

"Father," he greeted, curt.

Taking hurried steps around his mahogany desk, Naoya aimed to meet the older man halfway until he instead came into contact with one harsh blow that sent his face flogging to the side.

Naoya froze, his gaze lowered.

Instinctively, he reached for his throbbing cheek with one hand as the other wiped briefly over his busted upper lip. To have his father approach him physically like this didn't even register as a surprise. Despite his title as the Zenin CEO, Naoya continued to be scolded, lectured, and outright ignored because, in his father's words, he 'never seemed to get anything right.'

Even now, the older man found no hesitation in cursing out his only child.

"You fucking son of a whore! Want to explain why your affair with Toji's ex-wife is all over Japanese media?!"

Slowly, Naoya lifted his eyes from the floor. He had suspected that this would be the topic of discussion. In the last hour, Naoya saw his name plastered over tabloid pages, news websites, and social media feeds as an anonymous whistleblower tipped publishers in regards to his scandalous affair with Mari—and the millions Naoya spent to hide it. Evidence ranging from supposedly long-gone paparazzi photos to screenshots of money transfers circulated quickly with the internet.

Naturally, Naoya had seen the headlines too...

'Zenin Corporation CEO Exposed for Concealing Affair with Predecessor's Ex-Wife' 'Everything to Know About the Zenin Household's Uncovered Drama in Family, Business, and Love' 'Billionaire Naoya Zenin Entangled in Cheating Scandal, Accused of Bribing Press to Silence Coverage'

...and the comments:

'That’s why you can’t trust rich people. They never have any shame.' 'His wife and company deserve better.' 'Disappointed that this is the scumbag leading our country's largest company.' 'The Board should fire him.’

Now, that last comment struck a very particular chord, especially since the Chairman of that very Board stood before him.

Naoya clenched his hands, yet he stood mute. With every wrong move certain to cost him far too much in return, he was completely powerless in front of the family patriarch and, as a result, his first logical reaction was to defend himself.

"I do not have the evidence yet, but I am certain Toji had planned this, Father. Him, and also Sukuna, Geto, and Choso. All four leaked these details because they didn’t want to see your son succeed. I will resolve this. I am going to call Toji immediately and—“

"You're right," Naobito interrupted coldly. "If Toji had still been CEO today, he would've made sure that none of this bullshit would’ve happened.”

Naoya widened his eyes in bewilderment, not anticipating his father to twist his logic like that. He already received a literal slap across his face, but to realize that Naobito still compared him to his older cousin all these months later drove him insane!

"No, Father. What I meant was—"

"Oh, there is no need to correct me. I know what you meant," Naobito tested in a low voice. "What I gathered from this conversation is that I have given you a million chances in life, and you know what? You blew every single one of them. You're an asshole, you're a cheater, and you're a complete humiliation. I can always count on you to paint me as a failed father."

Outrageous.

With the bitter staring contest between father and son, the latter boiled internally listening to the insults from the man who sired him. For the ruthless Naobito Zenin, Naoya meant no value as an heir without the ability to achieve his high standards. 

"Some twisted brain you have for sleeping with your cousin's ex-spouse,” Naobito then chided, yet amusement remained absent in his tone. “Was that the low-class tramp I saw in the photos with you on the private jet the other day?"

The blonde kept his mouth shut.

But his father wanted an answer. "Well?!"

Suck it in, Naoya. That's all you can do now. "Yes."

What a sight, to see how someone blazing as a furious flame then erupt into a violent volcano. Naobito grabbed his son's collar, pulling him forward and shoving him against the wall. His fists shook as he sought the other's gaze.

"You're fucking married, you realize that?!" he snarled.

"I do! Which is why I have cut Mari from my life! I don't talk to that woman anymore."

Unimpressed, Naobito tugged forcefully at Naoya's shirt again. "I am truly astonished by what an idiot you are. Your answer doesn't change shit." He tightened his grip and did not care that his son wrapped both hands around his wrist to prevent himself from choking. "Let me tell you something, boy. I did everything—everything—to convince our Chief Operating Officer to let his treasured daughter marry you, you despicable bastard. He didn't want to hand the girl over because he knew—oh, that man is wise!—he knew that the union mainly served as a tactic to improve your public image and that there was little obvious benefit for his child. Power and money did not interest him when compared to his daughter, so the one promise I made is that you would love her," and he roared, "so, what the hell have you done?!"

Naoya had heard his father’s warnings countless times, yet he previously brushed each one aside with an ambivalence he now acknowledged as foolish. Unlike before, the threat to his hard-earned position suddenly became very, verypalpable. He grappled with a strange fear, unable to pinpoint what precisely unsettled him the most. The scorn from a world that no longer saw him as an honest businessman? The sneers from relatives with an undeniable reason to mock him? Or perhaps the fury from his draconian father, whose disappointment cut deeper than any public disgrace?

"I—" Naoya's choked voice resembled a croak. He could hardly breathe. "I apologize. This entire situation...this got out of my control."

Alongside his callous disregard for his son’s feelings, the Zenin patriarch even scoffed.

"This isn’t about getting out of your control, boy. This is about your complete lack of judgment. In fact, Daisuke called me when he saw the headlines, and you know what he told me?" and he had to refrain from flinging his son onto the ground before he continued, "That Y/N's been staying in her family residence again because she is going to leave you!"

Naoya held his next breath. Fuck, he knows. Naoya intended to keep his recent arguments with you a secret, hoping to resolve the situation first. However, since your father snitched...lying would be a dangerous move.

"I have not seen Y/N in a week because we've had a few fights." Naoya did not dare admit the details about how you two became arguing spectacles, first in his cousins' presence and later on at the café. "Just...marriage quarrels. We will get over—"

“She would be a moron to stay married to you,” Naobito cut off. "Y/N and your unborn child deserve more than to have a public disgrace like you in the household."

Right. Had he not been reminded, Naoya would've forgotten that he had lied to his father about your pregnancy, too. His hands grew clammy where they still seized his father’s wrist.

“There"—a cough—"there is no child,” Naoya blurted out, determining to rip all bandaids off in one go.

Naturally, his father became perplexed.

“Excuse me?” His hold loosened just enough for Naoya to gasp properly for his next breath.

“Y/N is not pregnant,” Naoya repeated, his voice hollow with resignation. “During our last family dinner, I only said that because I wanted to please you.”

The older Zenin became still, appalled by the younger one's bravery to say those words. For a moment, Naoya braced himself for another physical blow before his father released him, shoving Naoya backward such that he stumbled.

“If you weren’t so disappointing, there would be no need for you to lie to me,” Naobito pointed out coldly. "Not only to me, but also your wife, your colleagues, and your shareholders on matters about your family, your marriage, or your commitment to the company. If Toji had not brought this to the media's attention, how much longer would you have manipulated the truth for your benefit?"

There he went again.

"I don't understand," Naoya protested, unable to contain his frustration any longer. "Toji doesn't belong in this family anymore! Why do you keep talking about him? Father, you forced him to leave earlier this year, citing his threat to our family and company's reputation."

"You're the one to talk!" Naobito shot back. "At least Toji has the brain that you utterly lack." Before the younger man could react, the Chairman had already turned on his heel. "I have made my decision."

His decision?

A confused Naoya watched his father head for the exit.

"Wait, Father...!"

"Enough!" The infuriated man raised a hand right as he neared the door, a warning for him to not speak further. "Our discussion has concluded. Effective immediately, Toji Fushiguro has been re-instated as the Zenin Heir and CEO."

Instantly, Naoya slumped forward in disbelief.

Even as the older man disappeared, the room appeared to spin dangerously. Toji Fushiguro...re-instated? As the heir and CEO?

Naobito Zenin could never make up his mind, now could he? In Naoya's head, this must be some cruel joke.

Ever since he comprehended his ability to bend fate to his will, he had promised himself to fight tooth and nail to defend the (very rightful!) position that he worked hard to earn. He had disposed of his cousin through slander, he had to put up with shitty corporate politics, and, hell, he had to even marry you!

Some may label Naoya's current negative publicity as irredeemable, but he held hope the situation would normalize once the steam blew over.

With these thoughts in mind, Naoya regained his balance and rushed out as well. "Father!"

However, by the time he reached beyond the doors, Naobito Zenin was no longer there. Even his secretary could not be found as, instead, two imposing figures stood by the desk where his assistant should be. Naoya didn't recognize them. The men were tall and well-built, their muscled arms and thighs visible despite the fabric that covered their tattooed skin.

"Nice to meet you," one started after the long silence. "I am Eso and this is my younger brother Kechizu."

A stumped Naoya frowned.

"May...I help you?"

"No," the other answered nonchalantly, "because we are here to knock you out."

"Wha—"

And Naoya's vision went dark.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Note that Eso and Kechizu are Choso's younger brothers in JJK. (Both are not completely human in canonverse, but we shall suspend beliefs.) Also, I cannot explain the satisfaction as I wrote about Naoya and his mistress finally getting wrecked! Talk about justice being served! There were many ways these scenes could have played out, but I strategically chose Tsumiki and Naobito as the agents in the discussions. Freed from corporate America handcuffs, I plan to post again soon. Love you all!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzuruu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

[variety-fangirl]

Can I request Marc Spector having a marking/spit kink? I feel like it totally captures his tough exterior but also his need for intimacy and closeness

Forever and Always Yours / Marc Spector x fem!reader

Summary: people abandoned him his whole life until he met you, you loved him endlessly despite his flaws. So any threat to that would cause Marc and the boys to become a little... jealous.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS SHOO mentions of Jake and Steven. Porn with some plot. Smut obvs 😏 (rough yet vulnerable sex, marking and spit kink, unprotected p in v, female receiving oral, hand job, mild choking, multiple orgasms, vulnerable and intimate behaviour,) lmk if I missed anything!

Author's note: of course my lovely, thank you so much for requesting 😁! I completely agree with you, our baby boy Marc has a very dominating side and yet craves/needs intimacy like his life depends on it. I'm so sorry it took me so long to do, I'm currently moving, finishing college, and trying to listen to my mental health in what I need so writing kind of got put on the back burner for a bit. Hope you love it tho! Thank you for reading, it really does mean the world. Liking, commenting, and reblogging really helps me out.

Word count: 2.8k

Your boys had always been a little... Jealous to say the least. Not that you had minded and it often ended up in my mind-blowing sex so you weren't really complaining but you sometimes wished they knew that they had nothing to worry about. That you were theirs through and through. You never had an issue with reminding any of them of that, which you knew they always appreciated, without even having to say anything. They would always be extremely vulnerable and intimate afterwards, keeping and holding you close with lots of affection on both parts. It was something you had grown to love honestly.

What you hadn't expected though, was for all three to become jealous of your new colleague at work, Justin. He was a super sweet guy, younger than you and on the slightly nerdier side. You had formed a wonderful friendship with him in only a few weeks, helping him to blossom and encouraging him to come out of his shell more. As a thank you, Justin would often buy you coffee and something sweet for breakfast every so often and offer to walk you home on the occasion. You had grown fond of the younger sweet boy, seeing him as a brother you wanted to protect. And you knew he didn't see you as anything more than a friend.

But that didn't stop your boyfriends from freaking out and acting jealous all the same. No matter how many times you had tried to ease their worries or assure them of the only innocent friendship between you and your colleague, they didn't seem to feel any less stressed about the situation. And you weren't exactly sure why. You knew the underlying feelings and traumas hiding beneath that they often refused to talk about, even Steven had been reluctant with information in the three years you'd been with them. You never pushed for further details though, only what they were willing to divulge on their own.

When you finished work this afternoon, it was like any other day. Justin offered to walk you home, his being on the way also, and left together with coffee in hand. The weather was beginning to get colder now, coats and scarves beginning to appear in people's attire. The leaves had begun to turn different colours, with peaks of orange, yellow, and brown forming. You hadn't thought it would be so cold so early, so you'd forgotten to bring a thicker coat or a scarf with you. You begin to shiver, wrapping your coat as tightly around your body and neck as possible but it didn't seem to quench the cold breeze that seemed to blow straight through you. You could feel goosebumps form on your skin. You were almost home luckily.

"You look freezing, come here." Justin fussed, pulling you into his side with an arm wrapped around your shoulder. You smile up at him, "Thank you." He nods with a smile, continuing to chat mindlessly about how his latest date had gone, a friend you had set him up with. You smiled fondly, happy that the pair were getting on great, they seemed well-matched. Ten minutes later and you'd finally reached home, the cold had begun to worsen. "Thank you, Justin, I'll see you Monday yeah? Enjoy your date Saturday!" you call with a smile, waving goodbye as he walked to his own home. "See you Monday, thank you!" he called happily. You watched for a moment to ensure he was okay before making your way inside.

You couldn't wait to eat, you hadn't eaten anything in four hours and had been busy so you were starving. It was Marc's turn to cook tonight, he always had something new up his sleeve, he enjoyed cooking. He and Jake were much alike in that sense, not that poor Steven didn't try love him. Once you finally reached your floor, you unlock the door and unload your belongings in their rightful places, grateful to get your shoes off after being stood on them all day. It was 6 PM on the dot when you looked at the clock and your boyfriend was standing by the window of the living room, looking down at the scenery beneath you.

You smile and walk over, wrapping your arms around his surprisingly tense back after setting your coffee down on the living room table. You frown, wondering if something had happened, "hey baby." You whisper loud enough for him to hear, stroking the clothed skin of his back and sides. "That Justin that walked you?" Marc wondered, not making any move to reciprocate affection or turn to face you. You frown into his back, "Yes it was, why?" you question, sensing something wasn't right in his behaviour. Marc ignored your question as he turned around to finally face you, a look of something unreadable on his face.

His reply came with more annoyance and hostility than when he usually mentioned Justin, "I saw him with his arm wrapped around you, all smiles and holding you close." You sigh, pulling him closer with a small smile as you shake your head, "I was cold and didn't dress for the weather, that's all it was, nothing more baby." Grabbing the back of Marc's neck, you pull him down to connect your lips, tangling your fingers in his dark locks. You squeal into Marc's lips as he pushes you against the wall closest to you both, his hand going around your neck but not constricting your breathing. "You're mine, only mine," Marc growls with intent, tightening his grip on your neck just slightly.

You knew you shouldn't find this such a turn-on, this raw jealous possessiveness over you but damn you just couldn't help it when you felt your desire pool in your underwear, an involuntary moan escaping. Marc grabs your legs and lifts you, your body immediately tangling with his, wanting to be as close as possible. With tongues still exploring one another's mouths and hands pulling to remove each other's clothes, Marc carries you to the bedroom. Your back hits the soft mattress, and your boyfriend immediately climbs on top of you, not wanting to be away from you.

Marc pulls his shirt off, gracing your eyes with his beautifully scarred chest and back, you bite your lip as you touch his skin. You wanted him to know just how much you loved him and wanted no other, "god how did I get so lucky?" you whisper, pulling him down to kiss you once more. You often wondered what you did to deserve three amazing men in your life, gifting you with each of their amazing personalities and qualities that you adored. Your hands explore his skin with freedom as you grind against his crotch, feeling how hard he already was. Marc groaned into your mouth, his hips moving as needily as yours.

Marc pulls back enough to remove your shirt, throwing it on the floor with his. He groans as he sees you hadn't worn a bra today, his hands groping your breasts. You gasp as his fingers brush and play with your nipples, his eyes staring in wonder as they harden at the exposure of multiple sensations at once. Marc's lips attach to your left nipple, licking a stripe up the little nub before sucking gently. You throw your head back with an open mouth as electric jolts of pleasure pulse down to your core, ruining your underwear further. Marc's lips travel up your nipple to the soft flesh of your breast where he bites and sucks, the mix of pleasure from his fingers playing with your right nipple and the pain of his assault on your left breast was delicious. After a few moments, he works his way over to the other breast to repeat the process to mark the other.

As his lips kiss their way down your body to your waist, his fingers make quick work of removing your jeans and underwear. He pulls your remaining clothing down your legs, moving backwards down the bed at the same time to get off. You watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he discards his remaining clothing on the floor with yours. You smile as he returns on top of you, his face moving to connect with your core. Marc's tongue licked a stripe up your lips before working its way between to give your clit some attention. You cry out, finally feeling some relief of your swollen clit. Marc licked in upwards motions and sucked gently at the little nub, luckily not teasing you any further. His tongue stimulated your clit just the way you liked, each jolt of intense pleasure building the growing knot in your stomach.

"You like that baby?" Marc questions without moving his mouth away from your vagina. You nod frantically, "So good Marc." you knew each of your boys enjoyed hearing their name during sex, it made them individually feel acknowledged and special. Marc groans into your core at the mention of your nap, kitten licking you in between praises. "Look at me, who's making you feel this good?" he demanded softly, looking up at you, but not letting up on the stimulation of your clit. You lift your head to look down at him, almost coming at the sight of his dishevelled hair and swollen pink lips between your legs. You knew Marc and your other boys were possibly feeling a little insecure and jealous about the Justin thing so you wanted to squash any qualms they may have had about it. You moan, "You Marc. Only you, Steven, and Jake can ever make me feel this good and more. No one else."

He seems satisfied with your answer, his eyes flicking to the mirror in the corner of the room behind you, before turning to look back at you. "That's our girl." He dives back in but adds a finger into the mix, making you cry out instantly. The sounds of your juices filled the room obscenely, you were so wet that Marc could add a second finger quickly. It wasn't long before you could feel your orgasm approaching, the intense pleasure building at a rapid pace. "That's it, baby. Come for me." Marc groaned, pumping his fingers inside of you a little faster. You couldn't breathe properly as you approached your high, your body squirming to feel release. You scream loudly as you finally come crashing down, Marc working you through your high. He laps up everything you give him, not leaving one drop to go to waste before crawling up to kiss you.

You can taste yourself on his lips as his tongue invades your mouth, making you moan. You allow your hand to wander down Marc's body, working between his clothing and skin and grabbing his cock. He groans into your mouth as your hand wraps around his cock and slowly begin pumping him, quickly working him into a breathless mess above you. "I love you so much, Marc. You're my everything." You whisper breathily, knowing he needed to hear those words from you to feel reassured. But not just for him, for Steven and Jake also, because you knew they were watching and listening intently right now. Marc presses his forehead against yours at your words, a smile forming on his face and a feral lust-filled look peering back at you.

Marc crashes his lips against yours feverishly, his hands exploring your body wildly but with intent. You rush to remove his remaining clothing, needing to feel his bare body on yours, skin on skin. You hear the soft thump of Marc's clothes hitting the floor alongside your own, allowing you to touch him fully now. Marc wastes no time removing your hand from his cock and lining himself up with your dripping awaiting hole, entering you with no issue, pain, or resistance. Having already prepped you beforehand perfectly. You both gasp as Marc enters you completely, his hips flush with your own. "Fuck baby, you're so tight and wet. Feel so good. Can I move?" He asks breathlessly as he stares directly into your eyes with the most amazing lustful yet loving look you had ever seen.

While biting your lip and staring back, you nod eagerly, wanting nothing more than for him to claim you in all ways he wanted to. He sets a slow pace to begin with, just to help you get used to it before he wrecked you, the ever-considerate boyfriend. It was passionate and mind-numbing, the way his cock slowly yet roughly dragged against your walls, his pelvic area rubbing directly on your clit and stimulating you perfectly. The feeling of Marc's hand gripping your face has you bringing your head back so you can look at him properly, that familiarly dark yet seductive look staring back at you. "Open up for me sweetheart," Marc instructed huskily, already knowing you understood and recognised what he was asking of you.

You open your mouth wide with your tongue sticking out, trying your best not to close your eyes as he continues to slowly fuck you. "Such a good girl for me, that's it, baby." Marc slowly and gently spits into your mouth, savouring the moment that does not happen often, only when he feels particularly possessive over you. "Swallow." You do as you are told, swallowing his saliva and sticking your tongue back out to show you had. The hand on your face moves up to your mouth and inserts two fingers into your mouth, "suck." He instructs, staring intensely as you wrap your lips around his fingers and begin sucking and licking. You moan loudly as Marc removes his fingers and replaces them on your clit instead, stimulating you as he fucked you.

"Oh fuck Marc!" You gasp, feeling the knot beginning to tighten in your stomach. The constant stimulation from his skin on your clit had already had you pushing to the limit, but his fingers were getting you off faster. "Come for me, baby." He groaned as he sped up both his movements, increasing your breathing tremendously. As quickly as it built, it released, your high hitting you like a train for the second time tonight. You scream in delight as Marc worked you through your high once again, now you were exhausted. Marc gives you a few minutes to recover, spending the time showering you with affection.

Marc takes this time to kiss your lips until they are red and swollen, and even then he did not let up. He littered your neck and shoulders with more marks, claiming your skin once more as his own. As if he were an artist painting his blank canvas with signature markings that told it was his work. Painting your skin in purple, red, and black bruises. When Marc asked if it was okay for him to continue and you agreed, he fucked you into a moaning mess. Each thrust was meticulous and targetted, aiming to provide you with as much pleasure as possible.

Marc's groaning sweaty figure above you was something to be marvelled at, he was truly insatiable and the definition of beauty. You felt utterly grateful and lucky that you were the one that got to call him, Steven, and Jake yours. With each thrust, yours and Marc's moans got louder, both becoming more and more needy for the other. As Marc tucked his head into the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his beautifully scarred skin, and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close. You could feel that Marc was close by the way his thrusts got sloppy and slightly stiff.

Marc feels your walls tighten around his cock, "with me." Marc groans, placing his forehead against your own, breathing one another's air. You scream as the knot releases, exploding into multiple surges of pleasured fireworks that runs through your whole body. Marc groans loudly as he also finishes, his come painting the inside of your walls as he fucks you both through your highs. Marc collapses on top of you once you're both done, panting loudly. You lay with your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as your nails gently scratch Marc's bare back. His own fingers playing and tracing patterns on your own skin, often digging in a little now and again. You knew in times like this he just needed to be held and loved until he was ready to move or say something.

"I'm yours, forever and always. Nothing can change that." You whisper into his hair, one hand tangling gently into his damp curly locks and your lips placing a soft prolonged kiss onto the side of his forehead. Marc's arms tightened ever so slightly around your body and digs his head further into your neck, "thank you." He whispers into your sweaty skin, lips attaching to your neck regardless.

[reidmania]

heyyy I saw your fanfic about the mental health and depression things and I would loveeee if you would write one about the reader self harming and Miguel finds out and comforts them🧡 I’ve struggled with self harm and depression and your fics help so much!

JUST HOLD ON

miguel o’hara

summary; miguel’s heart breaks when he finds out what you do to yourself

warnings; mentions of self harm, comfort, swearing, could be very poorly written and im so so so sorry if it is xx

an; thank you for requesting, i want to remind everyone that i am in NO WAY romanticising self harm or mental health problems, i wanted to make this series to help people who dont have somewhere to go or someone to talk to, these are purely just comfort fics

i also want to say, youre not alone, and i know self harm is a coping mechanism for many, myself included, but there is so many other healthy ways to cope and i want everyone to know that if you ever ever ever need anybody to talk to, im always here and i want to do my best to make sure youre all okay.

long sleeves, jumpers, scafs, bandaids, bracelets. you were always wearing one or the other. miguel never asked why, he thought maybe you just found it more comfortable.

the entire time you and miguel had been dating, and in a relationship, it had been the cold seasons of the year, and now with summer coming in quick, you were stressing.

miguel isn’t stupid, he would wonder why you’re wearing a jumper or a long sleeve in ridiculous heat, he would question it, and that set you off in a panic.

it was fine, during the day when miguel was at the HQ doing his spider business, but when he got home, your mind went crazy.

although, to you, you did a good job hiding it.

“im home!” miguel says, your eyes widen as you get off the couch quickly, “one sec!” you reply, running up to your bedroom to get a jumper, quickly throwing on the first one you can find, you go back to meet miguel.

you wrap your arms around him, he does the same, squeezing you tightly. “how was your day?” you ask, as you let go of him, walking to the kitchen to start with dinner.

“not bad.. newbies are always rough” miguel says softly, leaning against the wall in the kitchen. “baby” he says softly.

you hum in response, occupied by cutting vegetables. “why do you have the AC on, while wearing a jumper?” he wasn’t mad, he was genuinely just wondering.

regardless you freak, trying to come up with an explanation, “my top half was cold” you say, shrugging.

miguel laughs, “do you need some help?” he says, leaning off of the wall to come up next to you,

“yes, boil some water”

miguel wasn’t stupid. he knew you better then he knew himself, and he knew your top half was always hotter then your bottom half, you were always wearing pants and rubbing your sleeves over your legs.

so he was confused.

it had been like this for a while now, little things would concern miguel but he didn’t want to bring them up, incase they were nothing.

today was weird though, while you were still asleep, in bed, miguel had to get ready for the day, looking in the laundry for a pair of socks, he finds one of your tshirts.

he ignored it at first, before he saw the red stains along the sleeves, his mind first went to, ‘that time of the month’ but you don’t get that in your arm.

he frowns, confused. deciding to figure it out later.

“lyla, do you know whats up with y/n” he asks softly, trying to stay focused on his work, but concern filled his body.

“what do you mean” she asks back, miguel sighs. “tell a soul, and i will literally end your existence” he says, “okok! just say it”

“i don’t think ive ever seen y/n’s arms”

“you think she doesn’t have arms?”

“no- shut up. like shes always wearing long sleeves, or jumpers, or her wrists are covered in bracelets.”

“oh miguel” lyla frowns. “what- what does that mean”

“obviously i cant be 100% sure, i don’t know personally, but it very much could be her trying to hide something..” she says.

“what?” miguel asks, shaking his head “hide what?”

“this isn’t my place to tell, just talk to her”

when miguel came home that evening, he was even more confused and concerned then he was when he left in the morning. he called out, but didn’t get a response, he hums.

he finds you in the living room, asleep on the couch, he smiles softly before he notices your arm.

no long sleeve, no jumper, no bracelets.

his eyes widen as he looks at the blood stains on your arm, the tissue in your other hand, covered in blood. if it was just one miguel would just assume it was an accident.

but he sees it, all of it, the numerous scas, fresh and old cuts, he can feel his stomach drop. next to the paper he finds a small razor, he picks it up quickly, throwing it out before he comes back, taking a deep breath.

“y/n” he says softly, you were a light sleeper, “mm?” you reply, until something must of clicked in your brain.

you sit up quickly, pulling you arm to your chest, youre pale like you have seen a ghost, miguel is heartbroken.

“come with me” he says softly, you pause for a minute as he starts walking, but when he turns around to you, you stand up and follow him.

into your bedroom, he tells you to sit on the bed, before he goes into the bathroom for a moment. “miguel- im sorry” you finally say.

he doesn’t reply, coming out with a first aid kit, kneeling on the ground in front of you. wiping your arm, so damn gently.

he continues to clean and bandage your arm, without saying anything before he sits next to you on the bed.

you have tears in your ears, and a yuck feeling in your stomach, “come here” miguel says, lifting you onto his lap, facing him, he wraps his arms around you.

“im sorry, miggy”

“don’t apologise baby, you don’t have to feel bad about this okay? you have done nothing wrong”

“i-“

“i want you to know, im here, im going to be here regardless of what happens, okay? this isn’t healthy, baby. but i know its a coping mechanism for you, we just gotta find a healthier one, together yeah?”

“yeah” you say softly, buried in his neck.

“i hate knowing you’ve been hurting yourself baby, someone is hurting my special girl, and i had no idea” he says, looking at you as he moves your hair behind your ear.

you frown, as you look up at him. “no more” you say.

“no more” he agrees.

“i want you to promise me, that if you need me or ever think about doing it again, you will get me straight away, i don’t care whats happening or what im doing, youre my priority, always”

“i love you miggy, i promise”

“i love you too, cmon, lets get you changed then watch allll the rom coms you want” he says, kissing your face.

[homesickn]

Darling.

Loki x reader — sick!fic, established relantionship.

No warnings, just fluff and comfort.

Loki takes care of you when you're sick and makes sure you feel better. He's really soft.

“I feel disgusting,” you say. The words coming out slurred as you struggled to breathe with your congested nose.

“Darling?” Loki asks, concerned. “Can I do anything to help?”

You don't want him to see you like this, in fact, you've been trying to ignore your sickness for a long time. 

You feel useless, you don't want to exist, the only acceptable thing to your mind is the thought of going to sleep, the aching pressure around your eyes begs to be closed. You're almost crying from shame.

“Darling,” Loki reaches around you, embracing his arms around your figure, even as you protest, he lifts you up in his arms. “You can't work like this. I know you're sick.” He watches your puffy face, all due to your crying and sneezing.

“No, I'm not, I'm okay,” your voice rough as you lie, fighting not to cough with your pained throat. “I'm not sick, I can do things just fine.” 

He still keeps you there, now making sure your face rests against his shoulder as he takes you to the kitchen, already preparing some tea for you two.

“Have you taken some medicine?” He asks and you keep your face hidden, ignoring the question. “You didn't?

“Don't be mad…” You begin.

“Why would I be mad, darling? Why would you not take your meds?”

“I don't wanna be sick, and I didn't know which ones to take, I took a pill but it didn't have any effect so I thought I'd just wait some more.” You're scared you'll sound pathetic to that, but Loki only rubs your back gently. 

Loki could sense the effort it took for you to talk, he keeps a concerned look on you as you only rest further to his chest. 

This is better, he thinks. She's accepting my help. My love.

Loki had a secret under his sleeve that could work, he could apply his healing magic to your tea — the magic his mother would give to both him and Thor when they got sick, on their younger days, the spell she taught him.

He remembers those days with nostalgic care, he keeps them in the depths of his heart for when his mind needs some kind memories, these parts are specially occupied with you, now. He misses his mother, but he can express the love he received in a new way.

You're shivering under his hands, so he conjures your fluffy, heavy blanket for you, covering you till your neck. 

He makes a mental reminder to prepare a warm bath as it's early in the evening, it'd help you feel better, and then he'd make sure you wear some warm clothes so you don't get any fevers.

“Love?” He asks you, your eyes are fighting to stay open but they're moist with tears from the cold. 

“Can't breathe,” you whine a bit in pain, closing your eyes and trying to rest but feeling the strong pang in your head.

“I'll make it feel better, love. I'm here,” He tells you, giving you a kiss. He was glad your temperature was normal as he felt it against his skin.

You cringe as his lips touch yours. “Don't kiss me… I'm gross,” your voice goes whinier than you wish for again, which he finds adorable.

“You can't pass me anything, my love. I'm a frost giant, I wouldn't get sick with mortal germs.” He gives you a kiss again.

“But I'm still gross though.”

“I could never find you anything close to gross, when I see you like this, I only wish to nurture you back to health, and make sure you're safe and loved, just as you deserve.” You try to hide your smile against his chest now, he can feel it, and it makes him beam with pride at making you feel a little better. “I hate to see you unwell.”

The tea is ready, he turns your body a little in his arms so you're facing the teapot as he makes two cups for both of you.

He makes sure you see the green sparkles leaving his hands as he puts your tea.

“I hope I'm making this right,” he blushes. “It's the spell our mother would pour on our teas when we were children, Thor thought it was disgusting.”

“Very good, really,” you joke around, smiling at him. “One of the few opinions I have, and little Thor thought it was disgusting.”

Loki gives you a tight lipped smile, but still smiles with his eyes too. He shakes his head.

“I think the magic is flavorless, the problem was just that Thor never really liked tea, and we just discovered a long time after,” he smiles at you. “So, my love, as I know you like this tea, I make sure everything is safe and good to your tastes.” He chuckles and you feel his chest move with the sound.

So you stay there, in his arms, watching his magic with a certain wonder, you'd never tire from this, he always loves the way you look at his magic, the way you look at him. It was never about the magic powers he carries, but the way you're the only person to look at him while he does it and appreciate him, just him, you like it when he does anything, you're the only one to look at him with this clear admiration your eyes always hold for him.

He quietly begins to hum a song for your ears, carrying you to the couch.

You move to take the tea and drink it. 

Loki touches your temple, he makes his fingers blue and —consequently, a little colder, just enough for your body to accept, reaching your forehead and keeping it there as you sip your tea.

He notices you're going quieter, just appreciating his acts, not really forcing yourself to speak anymore. He's glad, it makes him happy to see your body sliding slightly closer to him with each sip, probably almost too sleepy to notice. 

He conjures you the correct medicine, and you take it. With him kissing your forehead as you do so, like a little reward.

“I'd never shame you for being sick, you know,” He says, breaking the silence of the room. “I never want to see you feeling like you can't tell me again, even as your body starts to feel weak, even if the symptoms are just starting, tell me.”

“I will. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not mad,” he reinforces, quickly booping your nose, gently smiling at you. You stay quiet, he accepts that.

“How about a bath now?” The tea was warm like a balm to your throat.

You don't respond but complain with sounds of disapproval at having to move from the comfort of the couch, from under the cozy blanket.

“You'll feel better,” he comforts you, caressing your skin as he speaks in a low tone so as not to hurt your head. “I promise, just trust me.” 

He wraps his strong arms around your legs to push your entire body close to his, gluing you to him as he calmly princess-carries you to the bathroom. Patiently taking the time to hold you as he magically —to be quicker— makes the water warm enough for you and your tired body.

He helps you through the bath, bringing some things to make the bath time more relaxing like different soaps and a pink bath bomb.

“Bath bomb?” You laugh a little, glad the stinging in your head stopped a bit. You point to the product he held.

“It's fun, and I'm not used to these midgardian bath entertainments.” He gives you a kind smile and allows the comfort to surround you two as you take the bath together. 

He carefully washes your hair for you, massaging your scalp, hoping to show all his love through his fingertips and gentle caresses.

He moves down to your shoulders, your neck, pressing a bit harder in certain spots, then he slides down to your back with tender care. You hold your breath, and leave some moans of delight as your aching body feels the blessed touch.

“Are you feeling better, love?” He asks, you hum to agree, not wanting to ruin the moment. He muffles a laugh and keeps his loving touches.

Loki runs his hands across the other parts of your body with extra patience and passion, ignoring how sexual it could seem, he knows you're not wishing for it now. He still keeps a longer time washing you, and pressing his hands on your breasts, your chest, your stomach. Brushing among your thighs, anywhere he could show his love and feel your skin close to his.

He kisses your jawline, and moves your head a little to kiss you. The whole time was filled with loving little kisses, some all across your face, some on your lips as he couldn't have enough of your mouth, or enough of you.

The bath makes you feel clean and relaxed, you're allowing yourself to finally succumb to the peaceful affection he's showing you. It's almost overwhelming, you never thought you could have something like this, neither did he.

When the bath's over, Loki exits first to grab a fluffy, dry towel to wrap your body on. You got up and he immediately wrapped you in so you wouldn't face the brutal chilly air of getting out of the bath.

He takes you to the bedroom, your clothes are already on the bed. You tremble to think of removing the towel and facing the cold, but Loki makes sure that doesn't happen.

He puts you on a cozy green sweater, kissing your clothed chest as he's finished. Matching the sweater, he puts on you some warm pajama pants, then proceeds to kiss your stomach. 

He puts your socks on you, and gives a kiss to each of your ankles, almost reverently. Looking up at you with wonder, rubbing your legs. You almost weep at the sight, feeling overly emotional. 

After he's sure you're warm, he lets you decide on what to do next. You just want to sleep.

He turns off the lights of the house, and dims the one by the bedside table. He reaches for his book, this is one he's been reading without you, he thinks it's a bit too uninteresting to be shared, but now it might fit perfectly for the purpose of getting you to sleep.

You two created a habit of sharing your stories together, you love to sit around while he just reads for you. And whenever you read a story you really like, you get extra giddy to tell him every single detail about it, he loves it when you do so.

He knows how much you love his voice, and in moments like this, in which you need less loud noises, you can't help but pay even more attention to how soft his voice is as he speaks. You could listen to it for days, and thankfully, you can really listen to it all day, for days, he's yours.

He cozies you two under the sheets, the only light being the one by his side, so he can read to you, he makes sure it doesn't bother your eyes.

He holds your body on top of his, keeping a light hold not to pressure your skin, allowing you to rest your head on his neck, unbothered by the little sniffles of the remains of your sickness. He'll make sure to check some more spells later —unharming to humans, to be certain you get even better health soon after you drift off to sleep.

“I love you,” you say. He stiffens a little because it comes unexpectedly, then he relaxes. After all this time, Loki's still unused to these words.

He still gets surprised.

His expression softens and he can only hope you feel all the love radiating off of him.

“I love you, darling. Now rest, you'll feel better as soon as you wake up.” 

He begins reading to you from where he stopped, taking pauses a few times to explain some details to you, quietly. You pay attention to the sound of his voice, and his chest moving under you with each word he speaks, until you drift off to a comfortable night of sleep.

This is my apology for not having posted anything this week because I, once again, got sick, so I wrote this! Oh to have a Loki taking care of me.

I hope it can bring some comfort to you all!

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101 (I don't know if it's ok to tag in a sick!fic but it's ok if you don't feel comfortable with it ♡)

[drinkingcoffee-inthedark]

Unrequited

Part Five

Warning(s): Smut, Angst

Pairing(s): Azriel x Reader, Lucien x Reader

Word Count: 2805

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out!! I’ve had a hectic couple of weeks! We moved, it was my birthday, and I’ve been working through some health issues. I hope part 5 was worth the wait!!

It was a long week working with Madja, and you were exhausted. You were grateful to the older female for sharing her knowledge, but it was draining. You didn’t get a chance to talk to Azriel all week. Barely even got the chance to eat or sleep.

At the end of the week, the last thing you wanted to do was have a conversation that you knew would be emotionally draining. You weren’t sure you’d even be standing after work, let alone after spilling your heart out to Azriel.

Just when you were thinking about soaking in the tub with a relaxation potion Madja taught you how to make, you felt a scrape against your mental shield. You groaned out loud, but allowed Feyre access anyway.

‘Family dinner at the River House tonight. Please come.’

You stifled your sigh. You hadn’t seen much of the rest of the in we circle at all in the last couple of weeks. Between what happened with Azriel, and working with Madja, you haven’t had time. You weren’t necessarily ignoring your family, but it did make things a little bit easier to manage at the moment.

‘I’ll be there.’ You told the High Lady.

��Thank you!’

You snapped your mental shield back into place, feeling a little bit guilty at how excited Feyre was to see you. She’s always been a good friend. You made a mental note to spend more time with her when you could.

The thought of seeing Azriel had your shoulders tensing, and you opted to take that bath after all. You still had a few hours before you had to be at the River House.

You ran warm water into the oversized basin, and picked up the vial that had the relaxation potion. You swirled the purple liquid around a few times, the scent of lavender filling your nose. You took a deep breath, before emptying the vial into the tub.

Quickly removing your clothes, you sank into the steaming water and sat back against the soft curve of the tub. You sighed happily, sinking lower in the water.

You tried your best to clear your thoughts, but your mind kept wandering to thoughts of each of your lovers.

Lucien, who had fire in his heart, and the glow of the sun in his veins. Emissary, Warrior, and future High Lord. You knew he would be some day. He was a born leader with his strength and compassion. A good male, who managed to be snarky and charming all at once.

And then there was Azriel. His exterior was dark and brooding, but deep down- deep down Azriel had a heart of gold. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his family. A fierce and loyal warrior, who moved in the shadows. Azriel had an outward arrogance that made his enemies flinch, but the part of him that you got to see was what made you fall in love with him.

You couldn’t stop your mind from flitting between thoughts of their other…attributes.

Lucien’s flowing red hair, and his stunning sharp features. His toned, tan body. The way he made you feel so good…

You couldn’t stop your fingers from trailing down your body, the way that Lucien’s did when you were with him. You tweaked your nipple lightly and groaned, feeling heat building between your legs.

You though about Azriel with his piercing hazel eyes, and soft, dark hair. The way his muscles flexed when he moved. His large, rough hands…

Your fingers circled your clit and you hissed out, suddenly needing the release of tension after the long week.

Letting out a steady breath, you spread your legs a little wider and let your head dip back against the cool edge of the tub.

You closed your eyes and worked your fingers diligently around the sensitive bud, and allowing thoughts of both men to fill your head. It felt so wrong to be thinking of two men at once, and you knew shame would take over as soon as the pleasure ebbed. But for now, you allowed yourself to enjoy it.

You gritted your teeth as you felt your release building in the pit of your stomach. Your body tensed and you felt your toes curling. Allowing the ecstasy to override your thoughts, you found yourself picturing a fantasy that had been in the back of your head for months: a threesome with both of your lovers. The mere thought of having both males pleasure you at the same time sent you over the edge, and you came with a shaky moan.

And as you knew it would, guilt followed the pleasure, as it always did. You knew it wasn’t rational to feel that way, but part of you knew that this arrangement would make it nearly impossible to fulfill your ultimate fantasy- Azriel being in love with you too. He knew too much of your relationship with Lucien. He couldn’t feel the same way about you knowing that you were with another male.

Shaking the thoughts away, you washed quickly, and set to getting ready for dinner.

-

You showed up at the River House in a fitted, black, satin dress that went to your knees and hugged your curve’s beautifully. You paired it with simple black heels and small pear jewelry. It wasn’t often that you got to dress up lately, so you wanted to make the most of it. Your hair was pinned up in a delicate, but simple updo, and you kept your makeup neutral. It wasn’t an overtly glamorous look, but it was elegant, and you felt beautiful.

Before you could even knock on the door, Cerridwen was ushering you into the house with a smile, which you graciously returned.

The half-wraith guided you into the sitting room where most of your family was already relaxing, each nursing glasses of wine.

Your eyes immediately spotted Lucien’s bright red hair, and you did your best to contain your surprise. The inner circle all had their own opinions on the Emissary, and most of them were negative. Still, you were happy to see him. You smiled at him, before you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug.

Feyre.

You laughed and hugged the High Lady back.

“Fey!”

“(Y/N), I’m so glad you’re here!”

You laughed again, and saw Rhysand walking up behind his mate.

“Feyre Darling, you’re going to choke the life out of (Y/N) if you don’t let her go!” He teased.

Feyre relented and let you go and you smiled brightly and them.

“If that’s how I go, I’ll be honored,” You teased back, and Rhys smirked.

“Me too,” He agreed, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Gross.” Cassian quipped from his spot next to Nesta on the sofa, his nose crinkling in disgust.

Nesta snorted out a laugh, but nodded in agreement with her mate.

Just as you were about to take the seat in the other side of Nesta, Azriel stepped into the room and his eyes met yours immediately. He glanced between you and Nesta, and you knew.

Nesta had told him that you know he is mated. And she must’ve told him your reaction.

You watched him carefully, taking in the emotion swirling behind his eyes. So unlike the cool mask he usually wore.

“(Y/N).” He breathed out.

You cleared your throat, and glanced at him cooly.

“Azriel.” You greeted, nodding at him politely. You were determined to not let the male see that you were bothered.

In a few strides, he was at your side, “Can I talk to you?? Outside?” He asked. You felt the eyes of the inner circle in you, and you had to stop your eyebrows from twitching in surprise. You didn’t think he would be so bold- so obvious- in front of everyone else.

“I’m sure talk of spying and missions can wait until after dinner.” You said, playing dumb. You knew you needed to talk to Azriel, but not right here. Not like this.

He eyed you carefully, and paused for a moment, before nodding.

“Right. Sure.” He reluctantly agreed.

As if sensing their cue, Nuala and Cerridwen appeared in the doorway and announced that dinner was ready.

The group made their way into the dining hall and sat at the table. You opted to sit by neither Lucien or Azriel, and placed yourself between Cassian and Feyre, across from Elain. It seemed like the safest seat to avoid anymore awkward encounters.

The two half-wraiths served dinner to the table, a massive feast of roast chicken, more vegetables than you could count, and freshly baked bread. It looked absolutely delectable.

As everyone plated their food, you chatted amongst yourselves, relishing in the easy conversation with loved ones.

Talk of fighting and training and war, held off until halfway through the dinner, which thoroughly impressed you. It usually didn’t take long before the males were boasting about their battles and strength.

But it was a refreshing surprise when the topic came up and it was Nesta that brought up the topic, launching into stories of the Valkyries and their training.

Once Nesta ran out of tales to tell of her adventure with Gwyn and Emerie, she turned to you and asked about your training with Madja. You launched into a story about a potion gone wrong, laughter erupting from the table.

After the laughter subsided, Cassian turned his attention to Elain, who hadn’t uttered a single word during all of dinner.

“How’s your training with Amren going?” He asked her politely. You knew she was a Seer, but you weren’t quite sure how that gift operated. You were happy to see the middle Archeron sister training and embracing her Cauldron blessed gift.

“It’s going alright,” Elain shrugged, a cool smirk playing on her pink lips, “I was able to use my…powers in some unexpected ways.”

“How so?” Cassian asked, curiosity evident in his handsome features.

“I can see when people have secrets sometimes. Like (Y/N).”

You went still at her words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said evenly, eyes locking with hers.

“So you’re not fucking two people sitting at this table?” She said, sarcastic innocence lacing her words.

Somewhere at the table, silverware clattered, and a cup slammed down on the table so hard that the whole thing jolted. Someone gasped- you weren’t sure who it was- but all you could focus on was the woman across the table from you. The glare you threw in the direction was deadly. Pure ice swirled in your eyes, and you gritted your teeth.

“Elain-” Feyre started, trying to silence her sister.

“That’s none of your fucking business,” You spat, cutting off the High Lady.

  “Oh, but isn’t it, (Y/N)? It wasn’t enough to just sleep with my mate,” The disdain dripped from her lips. She still couldn’t even say his name. The fact that she still felt some sort of claim to Lucien even though she rejected the bond had your blood boiling. Elain had no right to Lucien. Especially not now.

  Nearly all eyes at the table shot to Lucien, who had his eyes fixed on you. Your own eyes were still carefully trained on Elain, sizing her up like an enemy, just the way Cassian had taught you.

The wide, wicked grin looked so foreign on her mouth. Her eyes flitted over each face at the table, seeming to thrive on the palpable shock and discomfort. It would have sent a shiver down your spine if you weren’t so alight with rage.

“Elain,” Feyre tried again, pleading now.

“You just had to fuck Azriel, too.”

  All at once, the heads at the table whipped to face Azriel, with his gaze still firmly on you. From where you sat, you had a clear view of Rhys’s face, gaping like a fish. You’d never seen the High Lord speechless before and it would have been comical in a different circumstance.

A sharp intake of breath- from Nesta, maybe- then all eyes were back to you. You secretly cursed them all, hoping they’d get whiplash from the force of how fast they looked between Lucien, and you, and Azriel, then back to you. Bunch of nosy motherfuckers.

Elain’s lip curled up, making her look nothing like the sweet girl you met a year ago. She had been so kind, so lovely. Becoming Fae broke her; it snapped her right in two. And now she was this spiteful, angry creature in front of you. She eyed her sisters lazily.

  “Be careful, sisters. She took both of my males. She’s probably sleeping with Rhys and Cassian, too.”

Her males? You were seeing red. How dare she? Azriel, so observant, so sweet, had been a great comfort to her when she arrived in Velaris. You knew that. You knew they were friends. But he wasn’t hers. He wasn’t even yours.

  A strangled noise came from Cassian’s throat, something between utter disbelief and sharp protest.

You flew to your feet with such force that your chair sailed backwards, tipping over in the marble floor with a stinging thwack. You slammed your hands on the table, absolutely seething.

“Shut your fucking mouth, Elain,” You snarled at her viciously. It only made her smile wider. Delight glittered in her beautiful doe eyes. The air was so thick, so uncomfortable, so tense that you swore Azriel could’ve sliced right into it with Truth Teller. You didn’t dare to look at anyone else.

“The same could probably be said to you. But you can’t stay off your knees-”

You couldn’t even think, sheer blind rage propelled you across the table. You lunged at her, sending plates and cups flying. A symphony of gasps sounded around you, and Rhys and Feyre were on their feet in seconds.

Feyre, shielding her sister from you, had a look in her face that you couldn’t even identify. A mix of despair and anger. Whether it was directed at you or for you, you had no clue. Rhys’s hands were on your shoulders, fingers digging in hard. Bruising. Holding you back from tearing out Elain’s delicate throat. Your eyes went wild, glaring between Feyre and Elain. Calculating carefully if your rage was worth the risk.

“Whore.” The word, laced with more malice than you knew possible, fell from Elain’s lips. Even Rhys recoiled at the insult that was leveled at you. The same thing people sneered at him for 49 years Under The Mountain. The silence was deafening for a beat. Then another.

And then Azriel was on his feet and at your side.

“Let her go,” His voice was low and soft. You could feel the anger radiating off him, and you were afraid that the anger was directed at you. For losing your cool. For being a threat to the middle Archeron sister.

Rhys hesitated for a moment, and you didn’t have to look to know there was a silent conversation being had. After a breath, Rhys relented and dropped his hands.

Azriel took your shaky hand in his. Shadows swirled around your legs, circling up, and up, and up until darkness surrounded you both. The shadows swallowed you whole. You were winnowing, you realized. Winnowing through the shadows. You almost forgot that Azriel could do that. He prefers to fly whenever he can. Your shoulders sagged, exhaustion mixing with a hint of relief.

-

When the shadows eased up around you, you realized that Azriel took you to the cabin in the Illyrian Mountains. You could feel Azriel’s intense gaze on you, as you started just as intently at the floor. Azriel’s hand was still on yours and released a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. The two of you stood at the center of the living room, nothing but the sound of your breathing in the air. The silence echoed in your ears.

Azriel tugged on your hand gently and led you to the couch. You sat down stiffly and carefully avoided looking at him. He sat down next to you and studied your profile.

“(Y/N)?” He asked. You hummed in response. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was so soft that it made you ache. He knew better than to ask you if you were okay. It was clear you weren’t. You were humiliated. Shame radiated through every pore in your body. You shook your head.

Azriel gently lifted your chin with his fingertips, forcing you to meet his eyes. You could’ve crumbled completely with the way he looked at you. So open and caring. He brushed a stray lock of your hair behind your ear and your face flushed at the intimate gesture.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. But we’ll have to talk soon, okay?” You nodded, then cleared your throat softly.

“I know.”

*

A/N 2: I just want to state that I am not anti-Elain and no offense is intended to those who love/identify with her. She is only written that way for the sake of this story!

•

Tag list:

@lahoete @percyjacksonspeen @inpraizeof @honestlywtfisgoingon @azzydaddy @positivewitch @thesillyyogourt @cmay25 @a-little-disguised @rachelnicolee @azriel-luvr @blurredlamplight @mis-lil-red @buckysimp101 @nightcourtwritings @dragonstoneprincess @tell-me-a-poem

strikethrough = tumblr won’t let me tag. sorry!!

[harbingerscry]

Laswell Relationship HCs

There isn't enough romance content with Kate and I'm here to add my two cents because fuck me, I love her. (Deleted 2 sentences of me simping). Anyways, for all intensive purposes we (you) are sliding into that, so far, nameless/faceless spot of her wife. I will keep this gender neutral (by avoiding pronouns) as usual but this will obviously be someone with a female body.

PS: I'm well aware all I'm doing are relationship HCs right now but it's because I'm having more fun than intended making them.

WARNING: This contains NSFW content and allusions to mental illness. (PTSD in particular)

You remember the day you and Kate met clearer than you do most things. It was snowing that night, and your mind had been riddled with virulent thoughts that threatened to consume what little peace you felt. Sitting within the numbing silence of your apartment would only make it worse, so you chose to walk to your favorite bar instead. Facing lady winter head on was better than losing yourself to phantoms that refused to be silent. Plus, after working two doubles in a row in the ICU you definitely deserved a drink or two at least.

You can't recollect much of the walk there, you hardly remember entering the bar and ordering. The world had just started coming back to life around you when a, at that time, unknown woman's voice piped up. "Rough night?" It felt like someone had flicked on the light switch when you heard the question. It wasn't the bartender that asked it, but instead the dirty blonde sitting next to you. She looked around the same age as you, which brought comfort to you in a way you couldn't explain at that moment. "Something like that, you?" Her eyes seemed to twinkle a little as her lips lifted into a half smile. "Similar." The answer had unintentionally made you smile in return. Never before had you believed in love at first sight, but the moment you looked into those blue eyes it felt like the world suddenly has color for the first time in years.

You did end up asking Kate eventually why she spoke to you that night. She could have easily ignored you, especially now that you know just how private she is. The first time you asked she said it was because she recognized the haunted look in your eyes, which is partly true. It was later revealed that she also felt that same way as you, that it was love at first sight.

Your mental health since the beginning has always been a concern for Kate. Even before you started officially dating she was the one sending you reminders of your appointments with your psychiatrist and asking you how they went and how you were feeling. It was refreshing to have someone take care of you for once, even if in a normal relationship it would be small but normal thing.

When you first met you had been heading towards a low you're not sure you would have made it out of looking back. It's funny what love and care can do. You still struggle from time to time but it has never reached a point you couldn't handle now. When it does all you have to do is call Kate or, if she's home, hug her and ask her to hold you as you ground yourself to the here and now.

It took roughly two months into your relationship for Kate to say 'I love you' for the first time. It wasn't because she didn't before you started dating, in fact it was love at first sight! She was just a little hesitant to drop that 'bomb', completely unaware to the fact you felt the exact same way. It was a year and a half later that she proposed to you, a few weeks shy of your two year anniversary.

The two of you were giggling like a couple of school girls in the middle of a restaurant. A couple glasses of wine really did wonders on getting both of you to loosen up after a hard week at work. You weren't entirely sure why you were there though. Kate had just insisted it was just a normal date night but this place was a little fancier than your normal 'hangout' spots. "I actually have a really important question to ask you." Your eyebrows raised slightly in confusion, mostly because you have no idea what the question is and your anxiety is threatening to bubble up. Did she find your new erotic novels? Did she find the new toy you had hidden in the back of your nightstand as a surprise? Oh God. Before your thoughts spiraled any further Kate reached into her bag and pulled out a black velvet box. Immediately your heart stopped in your chest as warmth began to spread across your cheeks. "(Y/n), I have loved you from the moment I met you and that love only continues to grow every day. You have been with me despite both our hectic schedules and jobs, and every time I wake up with you beside me I feel like I'm the luckiest woman in the world. You are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, will you marry me?" She opened the box to reveal the prettiest ring you had ever laid eyes on. You could barely contain the grin on your face as you smiled, eyes twinkling in endearment and glee. "Yes Kate. The answer will always be yes."

Despite her hectic schedule and work taking her to other countries sometimes, she always tries to make time for you. Even if it's a small text or phone call, you even have her work number in case of emergency. At least if it's her work phone she can tell others it's really important and they won't bat an eye when she steps out to answer your call. Video chat was strictly for when she was completely alone and in a safe place. She didn't want you to see if something bad happened or risk you two getting caught doing....explicit things.

Speaking of explicit, let's talk about y'all's sex life. You're both switches but Kate is most definitely the primary dom in this relationship. The woman could spend hours toying with you, hearing your whines and moans turns her on to the point her arousal is soaking through her panties if she's not already undressed. The whole time she's doing it praises are leaving her lips on how good you're being and how well you're taking it.

"So good for me baby, shit-" Kate wasn't usually this vocal but being away for almost two weeks had left her sexually frustrated and touch starved. Luckily as soon as she was home she had the best remedy ready and waiting for her in bed, you. Right now you had your face buried in her cunt like it was a three course mean, and fuck was it a beautiful sight the way, your face was covered in a mixture of slick and drool from your messy eating. It was more than obvious how much you'd missed her too. One particularly strong suck to her clit nearly had her cumming. "O-Oh fuck, stop, baby, want to cum with you." Kate gave your hair a gentle tug as she gasped out her soft command. That's all it took for you to stop and look up at her with the neediest eyes she'd ever seen. "Need more of you Kate~" You were in a headspace she knew all too well, and it was going to be a long night.

Kate will never admit it but one of the main reasons she asked you to go part-time once you were married is because she loves coming home to find you napping on the couch or in bed. Simply for the fact she can lay on top of you and decompress by means of face planting into your chest. Even if you're up and about instead, she'll pull you to her and hold you like a teddy bear. Usually you get the gist of what she needs and pull her to the couch for snuggles.

PDA with Kate is much like Price. Lots of hand, thigh, and hip holding for the most part with the occasional kiss to the head or cheek. This is out of respect for you and your boundaries, and her own. If you give her the green light though she's happy to slip her hand into your pants and finger fuck you. If she's feeling spicy she'll sit there all night and tease you through your clothes until you're begging her to go home, promising you'll be good for her in that desperate whiney tone that she adores.

It really didn't take much to have your panties soaked and Kate loved every bit of it. You had wanted to go see a movie and she was happy to go with! But she quickly lost interest in it so it was only natural she found her own form of entertainment. "Kaaaate.." Your breathy little whine was music to her ears as she traced the outline of your pussy through your leggings. She'd barely been teasing you for 10 minutes and she could feel a spot forming from your slick soaking through. "Yes honey?" She leaned towards you in a manner anyone else would see as both of you having a whispered conversation. Her only response from you was a whimper as one of your hands cupped the back of hers, keeping it right where it was between your thighs. "Hm?" She hummed in mock question as her hand changed it's position, her thumb pressing right on your clit and rubbing it through the layers of clothes. You had never been happier that theater movies were as loud as they were, or else someone would have heard the moan you tried your damnedest to suppress.

Okay, away from the horny talk...for now. Kate isn't a cheap person by any means but she also isn't about to drop a ridiculous amount of money on something that may not be worth it. Quality and sentiment are two huge things for her in both giving and receiving gifts. Which is why the woman has kept every handmade bracelet and gift you've made her. She gets one from you every birthday and Christmas along with all the bought gifts. She treasures them with all her heart because you made it with her in mind.

She does eventually introduce you to Price by inviting him over for dinner. It went great in your book, he, much like Kate, couldn't say much about work though. Which was fine, at least he was a gentleman and now you knew she worked with someone capable. Plus, you loved asking him questions about the UK and some other countries he admitted to visiting. Kate loved seeing your eyes light up in excitement and curiosity. It made her decide what she was getting you for your birthday. (It was two tickets to Italy and her approval paper for time off.)

Overall, you have a very happy and healthy relationship. Sure you have minor disagreements on the rare occasion, but one of you will eventually realize you were being stubborn or mean and apologize. Communication is an important key to any relationship and luckily you're both able to sit and talk things out when it's needed. She loves every piece of you, even the pieces you deemed broken.

[motleycrueobsessed]

hiiiii

ahh I so get having no motivation

as a fic writer myself it’s so much easier and sometimes it even feels more rewarding to send a request to another amazing writer than to write your concepts yourself 😀

cause you know ✨procrastination✨

And I totally get having no motivation don’t sweat

THAT SAID

could I req something with Kurt where he comes back from a tour reader couldn’t go on in a really bad place, and reader just decides to pamper him in all ways possible?? It’s your choice whether to include smut or not :)))))

AND can I become the first member of the anon family?? If by the time I send this I’m still the first

-snoitatulas,

🫨.

iloveyoy thank you for the Kurt req😭 i wrote smut headcanons for him a while back and that was kind of uncomfortable, its weird writing smut for someone who’s passed already but that doesn’t mean im not gonna do it!!!!1

more kurt requests please i love him 😞

Also yes you can! Im assuming you wanna be 🫨 anon?

Warnings: mention of drugs, mental health issues, angst and fluff, non sexual shower, small argument, and popcorn throwing.

Pairing: Kurt cobain x AFAB Reader

———————————————————————

You couldn’t go on this tour. Your boss wouldn’t allow you to miss one more day of work for a tour. You would lose your job.

Even though Kurt could EASILY support both of you, you didn’t like the idea of being completely dependent on him.

It had been several months since you last saw Kurt, you two had been calling every night since he left.

The tour was over, and you knew that because you had been counting the minutes until your boyfriend could come home.

He opened the door and you came running, with a big cheesy grin on your face.

It instantly faded as you saw him, he didn’t look good at all. He looked like he had been doing drugs again and he look sad.

“Hey, my love..” he mumbled out, a little light returning to his eyes when he saw you. He clearly loved you.

That once cheesy grin turned into a sad frown, taking big steps towards him and embracing him.

He wrapped his arms around you as you took in that familiar scent. Cigarettes and rain, it was a comforting smell.

Some days, you would go outside in the rain and smoke a cigarette, just to feel his presence.

You held him and he just seemed down. You led him to your bathroom, he looked like he needed a shower..

You helped him get undressed, he didn’t protest. You got undressed too, you knew he loved showering with you.

You warmed up the shower and helped him in, letting the water hit him.

You grabbed the shampoo and rubbed it into his hair, as he sighed. In relief, in exhaustion.

You watched as the soap ran down his body and into the drain, placing small kisses on his cheek and jaw to try and make him feel better.

He smiled, just a little, and put his hands on your hips as you rubbed conditioner into his hair.

“Your hair is so greasy, Kurt.” You teased and he smiled a little more.

And soon enough you were out of the shower, bringing him clean clothes. You both got dressed and you dried his hair.

“Rough tour?” You asked gently, playing with his clean, soft hair that was now splayed on your lap.

He had made himself comfortable, using your thighs as a pillow.

“Yeah.. i missed you, love. I..i was using again too.” He admitted, watching as your small smile faded into a frown.

“Is it bad?..” you asked. “No, no its not. Not anything like it used to be.” He reassured.

“Are you sure?.. please dont lie to me Kurt, i can’t handle losing you.” You mumbled.

“Are you saying im lying?” He said, defensive.

“No, no! Thats not what im saying. Im saying IF you’re lying .. i just wanna make sure you’re okay..” You answered, trying to calm him down.

“God i- i shouldn’t have told you that. I knew you would have thought i was lying.” He mumbled.

“Kurt you KNOW thats not what i meant!” You said, slightly hurt. He sighed, and nodded. “Fine.” He muttered. “Im sorry.” You said.

A while later you were curled up on the couch with his favorite snacks, watching some movie he really liked.

He brought his lips to yours, smiling as he pulled back and went back to watching the movie.

You tossed some popcorn at his head, giggling as he feigned offense. “How could you throw popcorn at me, darling?” He said dramatically.

“Oh hush up, im sure you’ll survive.” You teased.

After the movie, Kurt was drowsy and you came to terms with the fact you were both sleeping on the couch.

You pulled a nearby blanket over the two of you, and kissed kurts forehead gently.

“I love you Kurt.” You muttered.

“I love you too, darling.” He responded quietly as he drifted off to sleep.

———-————-————-————-————-———

he’s adorable ilove him

😭❤️ im not okay i wanna hug him.

[thepalaceofmelanie]

Martell Week: Character of the Day: Elia Martell

Tag list: @adriennegabriella @morby @wingsoftheangels @candycanes19 @tashastrange89 @elvinaa

(A/N: Going an AU route with this one. As someone who like Elia has, chronic illness; I wanted to write something on this. I’m not planning on having this as a self-insert but I’m basing certain things off my issues. Character won’t be named or described.)

TW: Medical talk, wanting to give up (not the hard S, you two are just tired.), mention of cheating and death.

Song inspired: “Aerith’s Theme” from Final Fantasy VII

Character of the Day: Elia Martell

__

“Elia, how are you?” I asked.

It was shockingly a good energy day for us both. We found ourselves at a Tim Hortons having something to drink. The smell of the mocha ice capp filled my noise, made sure to have extra chocolate in it.

“Hey you, I’m okay today. How about yourself?” She asked in returned.

The weather was warm, so at least our anemia won’t start making it cold for us. Elia took a sip of her iced tea and I could see she was trying to smile through a storm in her body. Both of us born premature, but our conditions differ a lot.

“To be honest, I’m just tired of it all. I don’t want to die, but I just want to sleep till they make a cure for everything. I can’t regulate my thyroid; I’ve only done it once… so now the Endo, thinks I have not just Hashi’s, not just hypo, but also hyper! Honestly, between the medication, the blood work, the side effects, and everything, I just…”

“I understand, and then when they tell you “it’s going to be okay.” a part of you feels like they’re lying. They don’t understand what people like me and, you go through every second of our lives. Then again, we don’t understand either. So, the point is moot.”

Elia, she must have had a rough morning though with the kids; she didn’t even braid her hair like she normally would.

“How’s Rhaenys and Aegon? I’m guessing their Father is watching them?”

Meaning Rhaegar, I don’t like using his name or talking about him. I mean he cheated on Elia, how does someone forgive that?

“Yes, he is. It’s his day to have the children anyways. So I guess it works out for me.” She semi-chuckled.

“Your heart?” I asked.

Elia’s eyes tried to give some spark of hope; I knew it was bad news.

“They still don’t know what’s going on. They tried an echo-cardiogram but they found nothing. I nearly dropped to the floor twice yesterday.”

Yikes!

They really need to find out what’s causing this and soon. I’m worried she’s going to hit her head and those children won’t have their Mom around. I feel her take my hand in hers, I could see her trying to hold back tears.

She’s scared.

I don’t blame her one bit.

“All I feel that I can do is say that “I’m sorry” but honestly, we both got to be fed up hearing that phrase. I don’t know what I can do for you to be okay as best as you can feel.”

“Just still be my friend. Knowing I’m not alone, helps at times.”

I nodded, if that’s what it takes, I can try. She knows we can’t make promises; some of us just can’t keep them. If we do, nine-times out of ten, we have to cancel last second. For us just to meet together today was a big thing.

We both drink our drinks in silence.

Moments past, the sounds of the shop filled our ears; the smell of the cafe woke people up and the two of us were thinking of what to say next.

Both of us probably already wanting to go back to sleep.

“What was your panel?” She asked.

“My T4 was normal, it’s the TSH was high. About 36.88.”

“How do you feel though?”

“Believe it or not, I’m fine. I feel “normal” I suppose. I’m not tired or losing hair any different or whatever else. I just been having a hard time eating and honestly taking the meds at times.”

“Please tell me you didn’t cause this.”

“Why my thyroid is effed? I can’t tell you anymore, I don’t know. I’m more worried about my mental health half the time.”

Elia squeezed my hand lightly, trying to get me to smile. I can’t smile at this, the fact that my body is ill like this and I’m not sure if I’m at fault or not, really does suck.

“Yours?” I asked.

“It’s a little under but I hope the new dosage helps.” She smiled.

“Yeah, for sure, you need your energy basically watching over the children. At least Oberyn and Doran are helping as well. They’re both good men.”

“I do love my brothers, Oberyn though is my favorite; out of all my family, he supports me the most.”

I felt a pang of envy in my heart, her family loves and cares about her. My Father...not so much at times. It took him years to believe in my depression and anxiety. Elia could tell something was wrong, her facal expression showed it.

Sorrow…

“I’m fine, I’m honestly happy for you. It just sucks that not everyone’s accepting like Oberyn and Doran are.”

“I agree with you; just because your Father doesn’t see your illnesses doesn’t mean it’s not there. It’s real just like us, it exists like us, but it haunts us.”

We both pause, feeling like time stopped. We both finished our drinks and tossed them into the trash, before sitting back down.

“Will you be alright?” Her voice cut gently.

“I will be, I’m just used to it by now. I’ve had certain issues from a young age and the thyroid didn’t get put on paper till a few weeks before my fifteenth birthday. Picture this, you get home from a wonderful vacation with your Father; you go into the doctors and they tell you, you have this issue and basically you’re stuck on meds forever, it messes with everything in your system. Seriously, this sucks, but I’m just so used to it by now; what people say to me doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

Elia didn’t say anything. I could tell she was taking in what I had said.

“But you’re here, you’re dealing with it.”

“So are you.”

She’s right…

We are.

“Your hopes and dreams matter, of course I could go into the whole “Life gets better” and such, but we don’t always want to hear it. That’s fine...do you remember how I asked if we could both do this thing? That list about reasons to keep going.”

“Yeah, I wrote mine on my phone.”

I take my phone out and go to note pad. I noticed she took out her notebook and sat it in front of her. She asked me to list at least three things before we met next, I guess we were both able to do it.

“Okay we’ll trade off. I’ll go first. First reason to keep going is to love my children and be a good Mother.”

“That’s a real sweet one. Okay first reason to keep going, to find a partner.”

I blushed, but I’m lonely. It didn’t matter if it was platonic or romantic at this part; but I knew that would be years later. I have to work on myself first.

“Second reason is to support my brothers when they’re dealing with something.”

“Elia, c’mon, you could have had the first one just be “family” and called it a day!”

The two of us laughed; she knew I had a point, but we both did need the laugh. I’m thankful for her friendship. Elia was always that person who would pour her heart and soul into life; she truly loved her family.

Damn you, Rhaegar, you fuck up.

“Reason two, to kick the ever living crap out of Rhaegar. Listen, if he wasn’t happy, he should have just told you and do something about it. That’s not right what he pulled; did he even ask for an open marriage or whatever before you found out?”

There’s nothing wrong with polyamory, open marriages, ect, but for the love of the gods!

“No, he didn’t. To say the least Oberyn and Doran want to throw hands,” Elia laughed. “Okay, seriously, last reason. To actually have a good life.”

Honestly, that was a reasonable thing. It would be hard but you know, sometimes we don’t know what life has planned for us. I just hope she doesn’t see her last sunrise before achieving this. With being chronically ill, it’s like our bodies are time bombs, depending on what’s going on with the person. With my thyroid issue, my thyroid is slowly dying because the white blood cells are attacking it.

“Yours?”

Oh right…

“To see my favorite band in concert for the third time.”

I could see her smile at that; to her it was a good one. The rest of the time, we talked; we talked about old memories, we cried, laugh and just tried to live for the moment. But little did I know was…

This would be the last time I’d see Elia.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Seven)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Oh, baby, this is it!!!

The last chapter of Act One. I hope you guys are ready for the hell I’m gonna bestow on you all lmaooo

I just wanted to say, while I have a bunch of shit written for Act Two and a boat load of ideas, I am up for suggestions. If there's something you'd like to see in the fic, don't be a stranger. I can't guarantee I’ll do it, if it doesn't mesh with the ideas I have, but as a free writer, my work is always evolving and taking on a life of its own. So hit me up if there's some specific shit you wanna see.

Also this chapter is a little rough so… re-read the tags and take care of your mental health.

Placebo - A Million Little Pieces

There wasn't much I used to need

A smile would blow a summer breeze through my heart

Now my mistakes are haunting me

Like winter came and put a freeze on my heart

I've lost the power to understand

What it takes to be a man with my heart

I saw you wanted this to end

You tried your best to be a friend to my heart

But I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Whenever I was feeling wrong

I used to go and write a song from my heart

But now I feel I've lost my spark

No more glowing in the dark for my heart

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand? (Can't you see I'm sick of fighting?)

Understand? (Can't you tell I've lost my way?)

Understand? (Look at me there's no denying)

Understand? (I won't last another day)

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Then I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces now

A burst pipe was dripping, the nose echoing in the desolate concrete room. Sounded like a bullet ricocheting off the walls. Simon fucking wished it was, wished it ricocheted right into his brain. How long had he been here? It all bled together, felt like forever at this point. His body was well and truly broken, had so much done to him that he’d been sure he was a goner multiple times, yet somehow he was still clinging on. His mind though, that he was trying to clutch with all of his might, bloodied fingers and all. 

He wasn't sure just where it all went wrong, to be betrayed by his superior like he had, to wind up in the hands of a monster. Roba wanted him to join their side, thought he’d make a great soldier for him. Wanted him a mindless drone to follow his brutal orders. An unstoppable machine. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t ever fucking do it but boy was Roba determined to try and break him. 

It had been your run of the mill torture at first but Simon was prepared for that, fucking passed his RTI training with flying colours for a reason. But when that didn't work it got meaner, more brutal, until Simon’s body was littered with scars, so many he was sure he looked like mincemeat. The one that sliced through his top lip into his cheek had been the most painful. It was still trying to heal. 

When Roba realised he wasn't getting anywhere to break his new favourite toy, he resorted to tactics that Simon hadn’t been prepared for, ones that had damaged his psyche beyond repair. He’d been confused when the first prostitute had been brought to him and he’d been horrified at what they wanted him to do. He was married and he wasn’t about to fuck a hooker. Roba hadn't liked that though and as the poor girl hit the floor with a thud, bullet hole in her head, Simon had felt bile clawing its way up his throat. He might not have pulled the trigger but he damn well killed her, and that was the fucking point wasn’t it? The mind games. 

Roba knew he'd play along more if innocent lives were threatened and so that's what he did. He kept bringing him women that if he was honest, might not have even been willing participants and they forced him to be touched against his will. And if he didn’t get hard, didn’t fucking finish as they watched like the sick perverts they were, the girls wound up beaten or dead. He wasn't sure he’d ever be right in the head again if he ever got out of here, especially not when it got even worse when even that hadn’t broken him completely. 

Then it turned into the men taking turns with him, being used in a way he’d never even considered. He felt dirty, like he’d never wash clean, like he was tarnished from the inside out and all he could think about was her. Could she still love him after he’d been with other people? No, that wasn't right was it? Hadn’t been voluntary, hadn’t been willing. He knew exactly what it was he went through, the R word that burned in the back of his mind like vitriol. He’d been defiled. 

Would she think of him differently or would she open her arms out to him, wrap them around him in a tender embrace and tell him it would all be okay? Simon’s eyes closed, tears leaking down the sides as he lay on the hard concrete floor, the cold biting into his broken and naked body. He could just about hear her, the delicate voice floating through the peripheries of his shattered mind.

I’ve got you, Si. I love you.

A deep and aching sob wracked his bruised chest, his heart yearning so fiercely for her that it caused him more physical pain than the beatings. She was the only thing keeping his sanity in check, the only thing he was clinging onto so desperately. He needed to get back to her, needed to be in her arms, needed to feel like he was still a man, still worthy of love. 

He felt so disconnected from everything, disjointed and wrong. Nothing felt like it made sense anymore other than her. He’d never allow them to break him because he couldn't leave her all alone. He’d promised her that years ago, made it solid with his vows to her. He wouldn't die here, wouldn't leave her grieving and alone. He’d get back to her no matter what it took. 

His whole body tensed up as he heard the door down the hall rattle, the key in the lock turning. A cold, creeping fear trickled through his veins like ice and his chest felt like it caved in. He knew what was coming for him, knew what time it was. And so, he allowed himself to float away somewhere else. Somewhere it was warm, somewhere with blue soft eyes gazing at him, a bright smile just for him, small hands smoothing through his hair and telling him it was all okay. He'd be okay as long as he was with her. 

He’d been through a lot of horrible things in his life but nothing could top the last three months. Nothing could top being hung by his ribs with a meat hook or being buried alive with his dead, treacherous CO. But even then, he hadn't given up. Even bloody and gasping and retching and fractured. He’d dug his way out of that grave with the jaw bone of his bastard of a Major, got himself right out. Finally. He could go back to her. She was all he ached for, all he wanted. 

Getting out of Mexico had been a blur, wound up being picked up by a Captain called John Price that he’d briefly worked with before. He wasn’t sure how he fucking found him, wasn’t sure of anything anymore and then weeks were spent in hospital as he recovered. His brain was fuzzy, his mind trying to erase the horrors he’d endured, trying to stuff them into a box so deep in his mind he’d never be able to find them. Didn't work though, did it? His body recovered, leaving awful scars that covered every part of him. His face made him sick, a scar along his cheek and lip and one that curved around his left temple. Would she flinch when she looked at him? Would she feel as sick as he did? Would she still look at him the same? His body might have healed but his mind sure hadn't. He had this hope, that once he was home, once he was back with her that it would all be okay. She’d make it okay. 

“You thought any more about what I said?” John asked him, watching as Simon slid a hoodie on. The man had been kind enough, slowly earning his trust after not leaving his side. 

“We both know I wouldn't pass a psych eval… not anymore,” he bit out. He tried not to think of the nightmares or the crippling panic attacks he kept getting out of nowhere. Tried not to think about the dreams where he was hurting people, hurting innocent women and enjoying it. Tried to tell himself that Roba hadn't won, he hadn't. 

“Doesn't really matter about that, does it? You've got potential, Simon. A bit of therapy and I think you’d be good to go. I’d love to have you on my team,” the man murmured, giving him a sympathetic look. He felt honoured that after all he went through, this man, a seemingly good man, had decided he was worth something. Decided that he wanted him on board. He felt like a fragile piece of porcelain, cracked and waiting to fall to pieces. He was nothing like the brave soldier he’d thought he was. 

“I appreciate it but… I’m done. I want out. Just wanna get home, back to my wife. Wanna… settle down, get better, have kids. I don't want this life anymore,” he admitted hoarsely. 

His hand moved to his tags, the pendant she got him still there. A tether to her. He couldn't do this life anymore, not after all he’d been through. He just wanted a normal life, wanted to just be with Charlotte. John nodded, moving at a snail's pace to tap him on the shoulder. He still flinched anyway but he was getting better. He hoped to god he wouldn't flinch at Lottie’s touch, he knew it would break her. Her soft heart would already hurt for him when she found out what he’d endured. 

“Alright, well… Here's my number anyway. Call me if you change your mind or… if you just need a chat,” he smiled and Simon nodded, grateful for the man who just appeared in his life when he needed him. He’d never forget his help. 

“Thanks, John,” he murmured. 

He got the special treatment of a private military plane back to Manchester and he looked around at the pitiful smattering of snow and the twinkling lights people had up. It was Christmas day. Even after everything he’d been through, he was excited to see her, his stomach twisting in knots at the prospect. She’d be so surprised to see him and he just needed to feel her, needed to take in her comforting scent and to hear her beating heart. 

A thought occurred to him then and he decided to go to his mum’s first and he knew Tommy, Beth and Jo would be there after spending Christmas day there. Not really to see them as he knew his current scarred state would cause quite a stir but because Lottie’s present was there so she wouldn't see it. His mum had helped him with it. He’d been so excited about giving it to her. While he knew it was wrong, he decided he wouldn't tell his family what happened to him, they didn't need to know those horrors. He’d come up with some bullshit about a bomb or something to cover for his scars. He would tell Lottie though, she deserved to know the truth and why he’d come back different. 

He was glad the houses weren’t too far apart, his steps picking up as he saw his mum’s house. The lights outside blinked rapidly and he smiled at the stupid inflated snowman in the front garden. It wasn't lost on him how close to death he’d been not too long ago and all these little things he’s taken for granted meant so much more to him now. He moved through the front gate, approaching the door and frowning when he saw it was open a crack. 

“Mum! You’ve left the door open!” he called out, pushing it open as he stepped inside. For a house full of people on Christmas day, it was eerily silent and Simon felt a chill sweep up his spine, his military alertness taking over. 

“Mum! Tommy!” he called out warily, moving inside the house fully. 

As he walked into the living room, the world stopped turning and he couldn't breathe. Mum. She was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree and his first thought had been that she’d had a fall or a heart attack or stroke. But as he rushed to her, turning her over to her back, blood pounded in his ears at the bullet hole in her head. No, no, no. 

He jumped up, hands clutching the sides of his head as he shut his eyes, frantically shaking his head. He’d had dreams like this before. It was a dream, it had to be. Yet when he opened his eyes again, the lifeless body of his mum stared back at him. He looked to his left seeing Beth slumped on the couch, bullet wound to the head. He couldn't hear the wounded noises he was making with the pulse blaring in his ears but his cheeks were wet and he clawed at his chest as he tried to breathe. Joseph was in the armchair, body half falling off with blood dripping from his small head.

“No…” he wailed, swaying on his feet as he stumbled over. His hands shook, hovering over the boy before he carefully lifted him so he didn't fall, leaning him against the chair. Tears fell in rivulets, loud and gut wrenching sobs tearing at his throat as he cradled the boy's bloody head. 

Tommy, where's Tommy? His lower lip quivered as he released Joseph, looking around with blurry eyes as he tried to make sense of what happened. He needed to find Tommy. Tommy had to be okay. He moved around the room before going into the kitchen and something broke in him completely at the sight of his baby brother laying on the floor in a pool of blood. An agonised noise left his lips as he fell to his knees on the floor, arms going around his brother uncaring of the blood. He was cold, so cold and he sobbed, clutching Tommy as if it would breathe life back into him. Bad dream, had to be a bad dream, need to wake up, wake up. 

“Was hoping you’d show up.”

The voice made him whip around, eyes widening to see Washington, one his squad mates who had also been taken. He’d thought he’d died. The man looked at him with cold eyes, devoid of the life he’d known them to be and it all clicked in his head. He’d been turned, been sent here to dole out Simon’s punishment for getting away, for not bending to Roba’s will. They’d died because of him. 

He set his brother's body down, standing up to his full height. He towered over Washington but the man was unflinching, gun dangling in his hand. Big mistake. So much pain and rage swept through him that he could hardly contain it. He lunged at him and the fucker wasn’t prepared for it. The gun clattered to the ground but Simon didn't care about that, didn’t need a fucking weapon because he was one. 

He knocked him onto the floor and Washington tried to scramble away, shocked when Simon’s fist collided with his temple and stunned him. But he didn't stop there, couldn't stop there. His fist hit and hit and hit and hit until the man's head was nothing but a pile of broken bones and mush. Until there was brain matter dangling out of his useless split open skull. Until there was no noise coming from the man other than the sick squelching of his head. His rage knew no bounds, ragged breaths ripping in and out of his lungs violently. He couldn't make sense of how he got here, couldn't make sense of anything. Charlotte. Oh god no. 

He took off with his heart in his throat, tearing out of the house and running down the street at inhuman speed. The fear he felt was like nothing else he’d ever experienced as he kept running until he felt sick. He pushed himself until their house came into view, Christmas lights up in the window. He came to a screeching halt at the living room window, seeing Lottie folding up washing and putting it on the couch to sort out. 

The relief he felt made him crumple to his knees, vomit projecting out of him at a painful speed and onto the driveway. She was alive, she was okay. She wouldn't be though. Roba would come for her, he’d get her because she was all Simon had left and his heart ran cold at the notion. His family were dead. Gone completely. He’d never see his mum's warm smile, see Beth’s kind eyes or hear sweet Joseph's laugh again. And Tommy… he’d never hear his stupid jokes again, never roll his eyes at him, never give him big brotherly advice, never hear him poke fun at him for anything and everything. His baby brother who he’d fought so hard to protect his entire life and he’d failed him. He was dead because of him, he’d killed him. 

He wished he’d died back in Mexico so he didn't have to endure the searing pain ripping through his soul. And if he lost Lottie… no, he couldn’t, he fucking refused. He quickly left before she saw him, a plan forming in his mind. He needed to kill Roba, she’d never be safe if he didn’t. Would she be safe even if he did? This proved his line of work was dangerous and he’d made many enemies over the years. He'd never really thought it would bleed into his personal life and now look what happened. 

He couldn't do that to her. Having her alive was better than having her with him temporarily just to die because of him. The idea of leaving her like that was painful, he knew just what he was doing by breaking his promise of leaving her alone, but he had no choice. He couldn't have her die because of him. He had to make this right somehow, how to get justice and revenge for his family, had to keep his wife safe even if he had to hurt her in order to do that. He made his way back to his mum's house, a sick feeling festering in his stomach like an infected wound. 

There was this eerie emptiness that suddenly wrapped around him like a blanket and he welcomed it. Something shifted within himself and he felt it deep in his core. Simon Riley didn't exist anymore, there was nothing left but an empty shell of a man. A ghost, doomed to haunt the earth as his penance. And so, he did the only thing that made sense, setting fire to the house in some kind of funeral pyre for his family, leaving his tags on that murdering cunts neck so he could finally kill himself once and for all. 

The one thing he grabbed before he left was the gift he’d made for Charlotte. He didn't have much left of her now, this was it. He’d left his tags behind as much as it wounded him, but he could keep this. Remind himself he was doing this for her. 

When he was far enough away from the house, he made the trek into the city centre, head down and avoiding everyone. He finally got to his destination, chest heavy with grief as he eyed the bus stop in front of him. He could almost envision himself sitting there as if he was a spectator, watch Lottie stroll up in that little dress, watch her pluck his cold heart right out of his chest and warm it up. 

He blinked rapidly, tears falling down his miserable and marred face, moving over to sit down, clutching the gift tightly. He wished so badly he could say goodbye to her, to feel her embrace, to feel her soft kiss just one more time, but in a way he knew he’d never be able to leave her if he saw her tearful face. He rummaged in his pockets, reaching out the two gifts off John. A pocket knife and a burner phone. He flicked the knife out, scratching into the metal seat at his side carefully. 

S.R 

<3

C.R

Maybe she’d see that one day, maybe she’d see it and know it was him, maybe it would comfort her. His lower lip wobbled horribly and he wiped at his eyes, pressing call on the only contact in his phone. 

“Hello?” he answered after two rings. 

“Price… I need help,” he choked out, unable to stay strong under the unbreakable weight of his pain. 

He willed that coldness to come back to him, that emptiness was much easier to handle than all of this emotion. He needed to bury himself, needed to become nothing but a ghost so he could carry out his revenge and keep Charlotte safe. He didn't deserve to have a happy life with her like he’d longed for, was stupid for ever thinking it was possible really, wasn't he? He was nothing but bad luck, cursing everyone he loved to a painful death. He’d never be able to make up for what he’d caused but he’d spend the rest of his miserable life making sure Charlotte wouldn't suffer the same fate. 

[whatevenisexisting]

The fact that there are people who want to have Epilepsy and read tips on it will never not disgust me. Like seriously. Y’all are fucking ignorant, ableist, and your identity is NOT in good faith.

Why? Because as someone who actually has epilepsy, it DOES hurt for me to see some people on tumblr want this damn condition. As I’m struggling to get through a work week, as I’m finally realizing I need accommodations, as I’m feeling frustrated because I haven’t had a seizure since April 19th, and I already had two this month.

Remember y’all, when you have a seizure, out goes your ability to drive for at least a few months. Put yourself in a small town with no public transit, rely on family to get literally ANYWHERE - and then tell me you’re “transepileptic”.

I wasn’t planning to ever drive again, but that decision DOES affect my life and let’s say I chose to drive once it was legal. Well, in my state I would have been able to drive by July but BAM. There it goes again.

Have a seizure, and you cannot drive. Now you have to find other ways to get EVERYWHERE you can’t walk to. And if it’s pouring like it is for me today? Yeah, your choice is either walk in the rain and get soaked, take an Uber for a ride that’s only 5-10 minutes and easy walking distance, or stay home.

Not everyone can rely on family or friends every single time they need to go somewhere, remember that.

And I know I’m focusing on this part but it’s just ONE aspect.

I mentioned I had a rough week at work and I did. Have fun dealing with post-seizure depression and just overall triggered depression as you work for a suicide hotline. Have fun not being able to tell 99% of your coworkers WHY you are struggling so much this week because you can’t even the say the name of your condition (and as a side note, your mom hates this and doesn’t understand - she thinks it just means you’re ashamed even though you aren’t), so yeah, they respect that and it’s your right but it would be easier to talk to them if they KNEW. But you don’t, because you barely accept your condition to begin with. (The five stages of grief? Yeah, apply them here and put yourself permanently in between denial and acceptance, also anger and depression, and have a jolly good time.)

Oh don’t forget needing time off work! Because if you’re lucky like me, you’re going to be exhausted the next day and will need to sleep all day! Which means using a sick day, and in America most people are LUCKY to get two weeks. My friend’s partner gets five days. Total. Of paid time off and sick COMBINED. So yeah, have a blast balancing what little sick time you get with needing to care for your body because sometimes you cannot recover quickly for them! You likely don’t know that tonic clonic used to be called grand mal (don’t worry most people without epilepsy don’t know this and you know you don’t have epilepsy soooo) but with grand mal, you might end up in the hospital because you can injure yourself! Any seizure that involves convulsions puts you at risk of physical (even mental, if you hit your head and get a concussion) injury, but I’m sure you haven’t thought of that part, have you?

Or maybe you have and you still want a condition that severely impacts people’s lives and can kill them, in which case you’re just ableist lmao, and insist that me being against people outright SAYING they’re faking a disorder is somehow transphobic or I’m “using the same talking points” as people against the trans community. Like stop stop STOP.

You know what the difference here is? Trans people didn’t choose to be trans, they can’t always come out of the closet because it’s NOT SAFE which surprise, might have a significant impact on their mental health. They don’t have a choice but to be closeted. Staying closeted STILL comes with consequences though. Coming out of the closet might come with consequences. There’s a reason trans people have such a high suicide rate.

As for the “talking points”…that’s just stupid because you people KNOW and SAY you don’t have this condition. You give each other “tips” for doing these symbols, or should I say FAKING the symptoms.

Me talking about the REALITIES of living with a disability is a desperate attempt to get you to stop romanticizing them. Me talking about the TRUTH of living with something like in my case epilepsy, is a desperate attempt to make you realize it’s NOT something you want.

I’M the one who didn’t have a goddamn choice for this condition. JUST LIKE trans people don’t have a choice to be trans and cis people don’t have a choice to be cis.

YOU fucking DO have this choice. YOU have the choice to get off Tumblr, out of this horrible echo chamber and ask yourself why the fuck you’re ASKING for TIPS FOR HAVING A SEIZURE.

Like for real, get off this hellsite and THINK about what you’re absorbing. This. Is. Not. Healthy.

And no, I don’t give a shit if you’re ~also disabled and okay with this~ because it’s not okay lmao. Like these are not good faith identities. Period. These people romanticize serious conditions, play into the idea that people with disabilities are faking theirs (especially if they suddenly become able to do things - “oh, jessy can do that, why can’t you?” Disabled people hear that enough already), and simply ignore the reality.

Ugh. I’m only writing this because Tumblr is a blog and a safe space to write, my therapist is sick today and can’t do a session with me, and I woke up still pretty sad and frustrated and then I thought of “transabled” people and decided to rant. Going to keep this public for now, might make it private later.

[adminbryantsaki]

Chives

Fatgum x Reader.

Road trip, pulling over to the side of the road.

(I do not own My Hero Academia or the characters within. Anything associated with that fandom belongs to Horikoshi Kohei. This story belongs to my 2023 Spice-tober collection. I hope you enjoy. If this story isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee move on. Reader discretion is advised.)

TW: Stress, PTSD trigger, panic attack, comforting and calming down from said panic attack. Mental health awareness.

(If you have any negative thoughts, please seek help, or let someone know that you’re struggling. Please don’t copy the examples in this story. They are bad and not healthy. You’re not alone in this world.)

WC: 1,470

You were in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s van staring out the window as the two of you traveled down the highway to the resort site where the two of you would be staying for the next few days. You had a rough few days before leaving for your vacation and you were sure that you forgot a few things when you were rushing to pack your suitcase. But you got your things packed in time for Fatgum to pick you up and begin on your trip to the resort.

You had your favorite snack in your lap and you were barely touching it. Fatgum looked over and frowned as he came to a slow down in traffic. “What’s up, sweetheart? You doin’ okay?” He asked as he put a hand on your shoulder. You looked over and up at him. “I’m okay. Just had a rough week and need to process the stuff that happened.” You told him and opened your snack. You munched on the sour cream and chive potato chips you had in your lap. Your thoughts began to swirl and you stared blankly out the window as the traffic picked up again and you began to get lost in your thoughts. You were only pulled out of this spiral as Fatgum was getting your attention to ask you if you needed the rest stop or not. You looked over at him and nodded silently. He pulled off into the rest stop and parked in one of the parking spaces. He turned the car off and stepped out of the vehicle. You did the same, leaving your bag of chips in the van and you stretched your legs. You walked over to the side of the vehicle where Fatgum was stretching and told him that you were going to use the bathroom.

“Alright. Don’t be too long, okay?” He spoke and you nodded. You went and relieved yourself before coming back to see that Fatgum had pulled out some food from the back of his van and set up in a form of a picnic. “I thought we had to get to the resort on time?” You asked. “Yes. But, I called ahead while you were in the bathroom and told them that we would be a little late.” He told you as you walked closer. He had pulled out some mashed potatoes that were topped with chives and sour cream and garlic bread with meatballs that was topped with marinara sauce and chives too.

“Now, I can tell something’s been bothering you and we aren’t going to leave this rest stop until you tell me what’s been going on.” He told you and pulled the back doors of his van open and sat inside. You crawled in and joined him, leaving the doors open to allow some air to flow through the vehicle. You ate some mashed potatoes and let the warming feeling of the food spread throughout your body. You leaned against the wall of the van and relaxed. You let yourself relax enough that tears bubbled to the surface and spilled over, making you cry.

“Everything is so hard. Eating food is hard, changing into clean clothes is hard, going to work and dealing with customers is hard. I just want to give up and stop existing. I feel if I don’t do well enough in my day-to-day life, I don’t deserve simple and basic things. There was a time that I didn’t eat for three days because I didn’t serve a set number of customers at my job. I only survived off coffee and water. I did have a terrible headache though. That was the night I spent with you and we ordered in.” You told him before you took a bite of your garlic bread and meatball sub sandwich. “You really snarfed that night too. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” He asked as he ate too. “I didn’t want to be another source of stress on you. You already have your job, the agency, and your interns. I didn’t want to add anything more on your plate. I thought I’d just wait it out and let it solve itself. I typically bounce back but it’s taking longer than last time.” You spoke and took another bite of mashed potatoes. Fatgum looked at you with a disappointed look.

“You should know that you won’t ever be a cause of stress on me. I want to know what’s going on with you and I want to help you if you’re going through a rough patch. You won’t be a burden on me or a bother. I want to help you through anything that you might be going through. Good or bad, you hear me?” He spoke. You nodded and poked at your food. “Bring your food up to the front and we’ll hit the road again, okay?” He spoke as he stood up and exited the back of the vehicle. You picked up your food and place them into your seat along with your bag of chips. You walked around the van to get into your seat with all the food in your lap. Fatgum got back into the van and turned the engine over. He pulled the van out of the rest stop and back on the highway. You ate all your food and set the paper plate into the trash can in the van and went back to looking out the window, your mood now lifted a little, knowing that someone in your life cared about your wellbeing.

The two of you arrived at the resort safely and got checked in. Fatgum carried your bags and the ice chest full of food and snacks up to your room and let you get settled. Once you were settled, you came out of the shared bedroom wearing some sweatpants and a t-shirt where you found Fatgum in the kitchen looking over some menus of local restaurants. He looked up when you came over and smiled. “Feel better, hon?” He asked. “Yes. I do.” You told him.

“What do you want for dinner? I’ll order us something. You just pick what you want.” He told you and pushed the menus towards you. You picked on a restaurant and showed him what you wanted from the restaurant and he called in to make the order. You watched him make the order and wait with you in the living area of the room you would stay in for the next few days. He pulled you into his lap and you settled against him. “You wanna know something?” He asked. “What’s up, Taishiro?” You asked. “I would want to fool around with you while we wait for the food but I don’t think you’re in the right mind for that, am I picking up on that right?” He asked as he held you in his lap. “You’re right. I’m not in the mood to fool around tonight. I’m sorry. I just want to relax and spend time with you if that’s alright. Just watch some movies and eat some food together.” You told him.

“Of course, and you don’t ever have to be sorry about being in the mood, okay? Don’t ever apologize for that.” He told you and you nodded. Soon, food arrived and Taishiro paid for the food, giving you what you ordered and the two of you settled in to watch movies and eat food together for the rest of that night. You loved the fact that Taishiro never pressured you to do anything you didn’t want to do. You were glad that he understood that you just needed some quality time with him tonight. He ate his food and enjoyed the movie that the two of you picked out earlier and you smiled, feeling your spirits lift, and your mind felt calmer.  

After you finished your food, you leaned onto Taishiro and fell asleep on him. He pulled a blanket over the two of you and he fell asleep as well. The End.

[artemisrogers]

Demon in Your Dreams Rhea Ripley x reader (comforting, first time, Toy play, eating out, and marking)

Rhea Ripley comforts you after a rough day and depression episode. Little did you know she was gonna surprise you in a way you'd least expect from her as your girlfriend. Especially when she is your first.

I unlocked the door to the apartment of the place Rhea and I shared. I didn't mean to slam the door when I walked in so I cursed under my breath. Flopping onto the couch I feel the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I heard boots clunking onto the floor and saw Rhea come in she was in a black motionless in white shirt and black ripped jeans.

I already knew she'd read my body language even though we've been together for about one month. I felt my tears spill and leaned my head onto her shoulder the scent of her perfume comforted me. Rhea pulled me into a hug rubbing my arm gently. I fucking hated it when she saw me like this, so vulnerable and broken. I had already had a mental breakdown on the way home.

"What's got you so messed up darling?" Rhea said her Australian accent showing.

"I had a rough day at work and had a mental breakdown. I just want to be with you right now babe." I sobbed.

Rhea pulled me into her lap tracing my back and every once in a while leaving kisses on my shoulders. I loved when she comforted me like this especially after a mental health episode. Once I was able to calm down I left her kisses on her collarbone telling her I'm ok now. I usually switch between Dom and sub but with her I was a fucking sub! I'm a sucker for her.

Later on we both were getting ready for bed I was taking a shower. I put on one of my baggy hoodies I wore whenever I had an episode. It was one of Rhea's black hoodies from when we first met. Every once in a while she would spray her perfume on it which she did tonight. I smiled softly as I put on some sweatpants. I brushed my teeth and brushed out my hair putting it into a bun for tonight.

I didn't expect to see an empty bed as Rhea usually was the first one done and in her black and white skull pj's. I heard her chuckle and turned to feel the breath leave my lungs. She had on her black leather spike top that tied around her tattooed waist in the front with spikes on it, black jeans, and her long black hair was down against her shoulders. Rhea's black lipstick and goth makeup was on and I felt my heart fluttered. I didn't think she had a wrestling match tonight.

"I thought you were off tonight?"

"Pft oh I am I just have an idea of how to cheer you up baby." Rhea said as she took off her jeans revealing black ripped fishnets and black garters that accents her ass.

I felt a familiar heat in between my legs and swallow softly. Rhea walked over to me and tilted my chin up making my heart flutter. I realized what she meant and was fucking nervous as hell. Yeah sure I fucked a couple of guys but I never fuck a female before. Rhea softly laughed as if she couldn't already read me like a book before.

"Aw first time?"

"Y-yeah I've never had sex with a female."

"Don't worry I'll be gentle yeah?" She said going to her dresser and grabbing something from the top drawer.

I squeaked when I saw a strap on, lube, beads and an ass plug. I was both turned on but nervous as hell. Rhea put these things on our bed and pushed me onto the bed straddling my hips. I could already feel her heat and I let a moan escape me. She leaned in and kissed me passionately. Our lips tangled with our tongues as she guided my hand up to her breasts. I squeezed her left one and heard me moan at it.

Rhea sat on my hips her black lipstick smeared from our little make out session and grabbed the lube and butt plug. My breathing felt shallow as she started to take off her fishnets and garters. Fuck she was already wet. I flipped over expecting the plug to go into my own hole, but she takes at me.

"Oh no it's not for you I'll be using this while I fuck you. I like to overstimulate myself. Besides I wouldn't mind seeing you squirt as I put these beads inside your pretty pussy." Rhea teased as she gave me the plug to put in her ass.

I applied some lube onto the plug and her hole. I felt my arousal shoot through me like a drug when she moaned, as I slowly pushed the plug inside her. Fuck she was gonna usee like her fuck toy! I'm her slave. I felt her hands grip my breasts through my hoodie causing my nipples to harden under her rough touch.

"Fuck Mami's gonna make you feel real good tonight."

"Your going to drive me crazy Mommy." I moaned as I felt her other hand slip under my sweatpants and into my panties searching for my clit.

I watched her grab the beads as she ripped both my pants and panties off my body. I took off my top my small breasts bounced a little as they got shown. Rhea laid me back spreading my legs wide open my breath shaky as the cool air hit my pussy.

"So wet and pink for me aren't you? You gonna take these beads in that tight hole?" Rhea teased as she started to push the smallest bead into my pussy. As all of them were in she tugged the biggest one out.

Then the next biggest causing me to moan as my thighs clenched together. I whimpered when she smacked my thighs open tugging another bead out then pushing it back into my pussy. As the last one pulled out I felt my orgasm approaching real fast.

"Oh f-fuck Rhea! Ahh Rhea I'm close."

"Cum for me baby cum for Mami." Rhea purred before replacing the beads with her fingers.

That was enough to make me squirt all over her hand. Rhea left kisses and black lipstick on my inner thighs and pussy before she pulled away grabbing the strap on. I watched her put some lube in it and stroke it teasingly. I felt my whole body squirm as I spread my legs open.

Rhea hooked my legs over either shoulder as she lined the strap on at my entrance pushing in slowly. I couldn't hold back the dirty moans and whimpers from me as she started to fuck me roughly. My hands tangled in her hair, as I felt a knot in my stomach again.

I was close to cumming as she slammed the strap back into my wet pussy over and over again. I screamed her name as I clenched my thighs and milked the dildo imagining it was hers. Rhea pulled out once I finished orgasming and looked down at me with a smirk.

"Feel better love?"

"Yes Mami."

"Good girl now let's get you cleaned up."

[vizthedatum]

Omg I didn’t even post on here that I got my first T shot today!!

Maybe I’m hypersensitive or just very imaginative… but my body already feels more at ease.

—

Today was a rough day though. I advocated for one of my friends at their health appointment (and I was happy to, this was needed). I just couldn’t hold in my dismay at the whole entire healthcare system in this country.

My friend is disabled physically and mentally. It’s been a challenge all around. They’re homeless, and it seems like so many institutions have just let them down, despite them trying.

All of this has downstream consequences on my friend. It worsens their state.

And who’s left to pick up the pieces? It’s either them or their friends/family.

And where can we get help with care coordination? There are resources but they’re all strained or somewhat conditional.

And I rant about this to my therapist all the time: mutual aid is great but sometimes the needs are too much for any one person or social support network. What happens then??

Well I’ll tell you what happens: people fall through the cracks and it gets harder for them to climb out of their predicaments.

—

Sigh.

I love where my life is going.

Why can’t I bring everyone up with me? Why?? WHY?

I tried my best today. We have a care plan going… and I’m putting in more energy than I may afford. I’m trying to hold myself more accountable to make sure I don’t drain myself like last month.

I love myself, but I refuse to see people I care about suffer like this. I know they have to also be willing to put in the work - I know this. But when the systems are rigged like this… it’s hard.

But we have a plan.

And I’m severely optimistic. Maybe it’s the T and euphoria… but maybe it’s just me allowing myself to truly put myself and my values at the forefront. I have been way more communicative with my friend in need and everyone else. I don’t want to compromise on this effort - I want to give her a fighting chance, with both of our consent.

And I want us to live our lives. Yes, I know she might undo everything I’m doing or make mistakes…. fine! It’s life! After all I’m one to talk - look at the people I’ve been in long-term relationships with and how I fucking let them treat me. Look at how long I waited to start HRT (meanwhile my friend is 22 and has been on it for 2 years already (I’m 34)).

—

I’ve put in a lot of effort in navigating the healthcare system largely alone. And I work in healthcare.

She doesn’t need to suffer through that to get baseline care and support.

I wish someone would have done this for me. So I’m doing it for her, purposely - and all I’m doing is just making sure the right people and systems are informed and coordinated. That the right information gets communicated. That her concerns are taken seriously instead of being dismissed (I’ve read some pretty disappointing and DISGUSTING medical notes in her chart).

—

Lives shouldn’t be more complicated than it needs to be. I can help with that in this small way - it feels more important.

[drinkingbitterboy]

Hellooooo,

I recently boarded the milex train and have absorbed farrrr too much knowledge and love for them in about a year but one thing that I’m a bit confused about ( and this may be completely wrong, I’ve just seen it posted about/hinted at several times and can’t seem to work it out ) is why people seem to associate bald Alex with him having bad mental health/when he was at a bad point in his life?? And a few references to the show he did with miles at this time but how things seemed off?

Seeing as 80% of my intake comes from your blog I thought you’d be the right person to ask xD

Seriously tho, I love love your blog <3333

hi. first of all i am SO SORRY for the delay on answering i was going to reply and then i forgot!!!

so. the biggest part is of course that we know something happened after eycte with both miles and alex, indicated by everything from interviews talking about writer's block, the actual tbhc and cdg albums, them suddenly not hanging out constantly, etc.

and then you throw in the breakup with taylor. somewhere louise shows up, too. and i don't know the exact timing (though i'm p sure people have put it together) but because of how...acrimonious that breakup was and how questionable the lousie entrance was and how miles still doesn't like her... it's basically a perfect emotional storm.

people always associate the drastic head shaving with mental health desasters (see: britney) and that paired with him visibly losing weight and honestly acting a bit different on stage and out in public (there's some rough pics with louise and her friends....) it just feels even worse. and so.

regarding the show you're talking about: alex showed up to miles' solo gig at la cigale for standing next to me. imo it's not the complete disaster that it could be and that it somehow is made out to be. however if you're watching this performance, say, right after marathoning a bunch of tlsp gigs, it's awkward as hell. i don't particularly want to go into some analysis of body language bc i'm sure that's out here already, but that's really the gist of it.

does that all make sense? i've never been the most knowledgeable about all the drama and this is all as far as i recall. i hope this was at least a little helpful!

i am btw incredibly flattered by choosing my humble blog for like 80% of your milex intake. i hope that it's been an alright ride? and welcome aboard the kane train <3

[colleencrossingg]

So this happened.

I apologize for my inactivity, school and work has been absolutely insane. I have been playing New Leaf every day though to get as much as I can before the servers shut down. Yes, this includes exchanging 100 visits with randos on Reddit for unlimited hacked Sanrio items. I decorated the bottom floor of my house, so I’ll post that later. I also started the Beautiful Town ordinance, because I am SICK of watering flowers.

I finished funding for both the Roost and the Dream Suite (with the help of friendly Redditors), so my main focus has been trying to visit others and get to 500 dreams. If you want me to visit, leave your Dream Address!

Things in my personal life are not going as well. My dog passed away yesterday at 6 years old. We have no idea what happened, but it seems as if he had severe organ failure. He was always very sick, even as a puppy, but this was very unusual and he declined very quickly. I don’t want to get into it, but this was the third major health scare in less than 9 months where we thought we’d have to put him down.

I am struggling to get things done because I am having POTS flare ups and I have been dealing with depression-related fatigue. I am trying to keep going, but it is hard. I am also dealing with a lot of stress because of my fiancée, because we might have to move in June so he can start grad school. He is stressing me out with financial talk and trying to convince me to enter a mortgage on a property I’ve never even seen in a city we’ve never been to. The FAFSA delay is screwing us because we don’t know how much in loans we’ll have to take out, so this affects which school he chooses to attend. I also don’t know what I’ll be doing until I can start my MA program. I may try to take Chinese or Vietnamese courses as a nonmetriculated student at the university my fiancée is going to, or I may be ambitious and try to do it at the Ivy League school nearby…

I recently won two awards for my thesis as well as my service to the department I belong to. I am dealing with major impostor syndrome because of this. I don’t feel like I deserve to win, and I even consulted my favorite professor to make sure that he didn’t influence the decision in any way because he is the department chair. I’m not sure if I want to even attend the ceremony because I am dealing with intense body image issues and if anybody tries to take a picture of me, I’ll go insane.

I will try to post occasional updates if I can. Animal Crossing is my main coping mechanism through everything going on. I have so many other games I want to play, but so little time.

I want to try the new Stardew Update, but I have such minimal progress in my main save file. I’m horrible with getting through the Skull Cavern mines, and it’s really holding me back. I haven’t played Stardew in a very long time, so I may just play from a completely different save file and start over.

Another game I’ve been playing more lately is Minecraft. I wouldn’t say it’s been a full-on intense Minecraft phase, but I started a new "Survival" world (I play on Peaceful until it’s not convenient for me - I have been playing for 12 years and beaten the game numerous times, I know what I’m doing!) and I’m trying to exit my comfort zone by building in biomes I would usually skip over.

Sorry for my inactivity, shit is rough right now. I don’t know what else to say. I deal with grief really weird for someone who is extremely mentally ill and emotionally unstable. I’m oddly fine. He died in such a traumatic state, so maybe it’s me knowing that he’s at peace now. I don’t know.

Also this has been me every morning sitting in my office at school high as FUCK listening to Strawberry Switchblade/Rose McDowall and getting absolutely nothing done. I have absolutely cooked my Spotify Wrapped and it’s not even April.

Ok I’ll update you in another month. 🫡