#just needed to articulate this at 4 in the morning

[paperpeachy]

i like that peach’s careful, cultivated image in the kingdom and her devotion towards her toads was meant to contrast mario and everyone’s unreliable impression of him and how he feels he's always dragging his brother down with no real place in his family, but rlly i think they tried too hard to make peach this cool, no-nonsense princess fiona type-beat action girl to mario even tho in the games where she does fight back, she is still v silly ab it. peach is capable in my head but it's in a facetious, hurling turnips, using her parasol to strike enemies as she tries to glide up leisurely-kind of way she takes her frivolous girlish whimsy everywhere she goes. she still makes time to bake a cake during a kidnapping, shes taking a stroll as an explosion fires behind her and she offers tea in the middle of a warzone. when she beats u in smash or beats mimi in spm shes going tee hee was that too much 😮 and i just wasnt seeing anny of that in the movie bc they were trying so hard to make her so untouchable and serious when rlly she is just as silly as the rest of the heroes cast. and as much as i love anya i just dont think the voice direction was right w peach she ended up sounding way more suave than she is. idrk how to explain to ppl why i dont like how girlbossified she is w/o them thinking i see her as incapable but its just. not even that i feel like at some points the sarcastic challenging-him banter between her and mario needed to end bc she is not that girl. her adoration of mario has always been sincere and i think they couldve done a better job of portraying the impression they left on e/o, esp since ‘relying on each other’ seems to b a theme in this movie

[reidmotif]

Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress. 

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being. 

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket. 

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness. 

That’s where Spencer Reid came in. 

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet. 

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well. 

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day. 

“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.” 

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage. 

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him.  “I’ll try to cut down on it.” 

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you. 

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft. 

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were.  “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second. 

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses. 

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted. 

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.” 

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.” 

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze. 

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.” 

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?” 

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.” 

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply. 

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice. 

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” 

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently. 

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.” 

“Work?” He asks, softly. 

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.” 

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you. 

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago. 

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.” 

“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent. 

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this. 

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out. 

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say.  Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex.  He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. 

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat. 

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning. 

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper. 

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?” 

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him. 

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.” 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate. 

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath. 

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?” 

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you. 

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference. 

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent. 

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed. 

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you. 

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose.  Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this. 

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end. 

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do. 

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs. 

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath. 

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you. 

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs? 

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved. 

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is. 

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end. 

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms. 

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along. 

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him. 

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm. 

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him. 

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification. 

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly. 

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice? 

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head. 

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod. 

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.” 

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out. 

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed. 

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along. 

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow. 

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.” 

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

[aptericia]

Not proud to be here.

--

Ok, here goes draft like 5 of this fucking post. I spent 4 hours tossing and turning in bed last night thinking about this, and then this morning I found a tumblr post that really helped me understand what I was trying to say.

The post talks about how aromantic "advocates" claim that "aros don't take up resources, so there's no reason not to include them!" And if that's actually what people believe, I think I can finally articulate why it is that I feel so alienated in queer spaces.

It's because aspecs in general aren't "welcomed" by much of the queer community. We're tolerated. We perhaps get the luxury of not being contradicted on our own identities, or not being specifically kicked out of LGBTQ-only spaces, but that's the whole point: what we get out of the queer "community" is people NOT doing things, not actually doing things FOR us. And that, frankly, is not enough. We deserve conversations about us. We deserve to have others consider our feelings, even when making lighthearted jokes. We deserve varied, respectful representation in media. We deserve the active deconstruction of amatonormativity in society. We deserve to have space made for us, rather than at most being told we should "go take up more space!" ourselves.

Of course, the reality is that my being aspec is a personal matter that does not inherently affect anyone else. But the same can be said for literally any queer identity. Your being gay doesn't say anything about me, so of course I shouldn't hurt you for it, but why should I help you either? Because your happiness and comfort are important. The same goes for aspecs.

And most of the time, I don't even need anyone to make space for or expend resources on me; I can live fine in everyday, non-queer-specific places without mentioning my identity at all. But it's the queer community that claims it will make that space for me, doesn't, and then acts defensive and morally pure if I call out the hypocrisy because "we're queer too, you can't erase our identities to advocate for yours!!!!"

Again, this post isn't about specifics. I have queer friends who are incredibly thoughtful and supportive about my identity, just as I have non-queer friends who are. I find more solidarity in aspec-only communities, as well as trans/genderqueer ones, although there are still many exceptions. This post is also not about amatonormative ideology, which is extremely common from queer and non-queer people alike. This post is about the reason I've felt so betrayed by the queer community.

--

On a personal note, I remember being so excited when I started identifying as aromantic (and later asexual). Fitting myself into labels has been a lifelong struggle for me; to this day I still can't confidently say if I'm White or PoC, neurotypical or neurodivergent, abled or disabled, cisgender or not cisgender. I continue to struggle making friends because I don't fall into social cliques. To discover that I officially, certainly, was LGBTQ+ lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. And now I'm just so sad to find that despite that, I'm still stuck in the middle. I didn't get rewarded with a community. I still feel alienated from both queer and non-queer people. I know it was silly to get my hopes up when there's such vast diversity in both groups, but it really was a disappointment. Going to my first Pride parade last year was really the moment where I realized this.

[cry4mina]

What You Need

(Pole!Dancing Momo x fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.4K

Light Angst/Smut

Summary: Momo has been locked in her studio for a week and a half despite your want for her attention. Little do you know, she’s been preparing a surprise for you.

TW: THIS IS MOSTLY FUCKING! Pole dancing, stripping, praise kink, Momo is a bottom (whaaaaaat), face fucking, fingering, and I’m unsure if i missed anything so just be aware of the sex.

A/N: The brain rot was real yall. A thank u to the secret contributor whomst helped me articulate words lmao anyway, DMs and asks are always open! Pls drink water and have a lovely day!

—

A long sigh leaves your lips while you lay down on the couch and scroll through your phone, switching between the same three apps before you huff again. You’re at home and so is Momo but she’s locked herself in her studio…again. Just like she had for the last week and a half.

Rolling over to one side and opening your messages, only to stare at the one you sent Momo an hour beforehand.

You: I miss you [9:45pm]

You: Can you come upstairs soon? :( [9:45pm]

Of course she didn’t reply. Scoffing in annoyance, you stand. Making your way to your shared bedroom and stripping down to just underwear on the way. Throwing your clothes in the laundry hamper, you stare into space. Bringing your hand up for a moment to wipe the sleep out of your eye momentarily.

It had been 3 hours since you’d seen her. Coming home in a whirlwind, throwing all her stuff to the ground before she kissed you and sped off to the basement studio. With no response to your previous message, you decide to send another.

You: I’m going to bed…let me know when you have time for me, I guess. [10:46pm]

A little passive aggressive for you, sure, but she knew how you’d been feeling. A conversation was had a few days ago about how you felt like she had been held up in the studio and not really spending time with you outside of coming to bed at 3am only to wake up at 8am and leave for her schedule. She said she understood and assured you it would all be worth it in the end…but you missed her.

Slipping into one of her oversized shirts that smelled like her with only panties on underneath, you wash your face and brush your teeth when your phone vibrates on the counter.

Mo: Please don’t go to sleep yet! [10:51pm]

Mo: I have something I want to show you! [10:51pm]

Mo: Give me 10 minutes and then come down to the studio, okay? I love you. [10:52pm]

Spitting the sweet minty toothpaste out and rolling your eyes, you start your skin care routine. Washing your face, dabbing on serums, the whole nine before you head through the living room. Passing the kitchen and head down the steps to the door of the soundproof room added on to the original house after purchase.

This wasn’t a space you ever felt like was yours so you rarely went inside. You remember her having it built into the house before you both moved in together. Only having seen it one time, to view the finished product all decorated and sparkling new.

Momo, of course, stayed with you when the construction workers were in and out of her house for the better part of 4 months. Sleeping in the same bed every night, cooking dinner together, date nights more frequently, having the dogs around, it was all such a dream that strengthened the already strong relationship.

The day the room passed inspection, she took the dogs and went home, worried about being in your space for that long. Not wanting to be a bother. She was always so kind and respectful but the silence of the house without their presence didn’t feel right. Momo called you right as you went to call her that night.

“Hey, uhm…I know it’s late but…I can’t fall asleep…the bed seems too…”

“Empty?”

“You feel it too?…Hey, would you- uhm… Do you want to com-”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” interrupting the sentence before she could finish, beaming at the thought of sleeping next to her another night.

She asked you the next morning while you were tangled in the sheets, cuddling, if you wanted to move in together. You agreed with no hesitation.

Nothing compared to waking up to her everyday. You were missing that part the most as you reminisce on the memories. Sure, it hadn't been that long of a time, but the person who couldn’t fall asleep without you (and the person you couldn’t sleep without) was apparently too wrapped up in whatever was in that studio to be bothered to come to bed. Or hang out on the couch. Or spend any quality time with you.

Even with this, you respected her space. Trying not to be intrusive with her busyness and not going into the studio unless you were invited.

A little intimidated by the unfamiliarity of the room, you turn the knob and quietly take a step before closing the door lightly behind you. The walls are covered in white sheets, opening the space up, with the exception of a few mirrors that were strategically placed along the curtains.

Oak hardwood flooring really brought the brightness of the room together. A small couch and a chair sitting right in front of a silver pole that is bolted into the ground and ceiling beam.

Oh.

Blush covers your cheeks when you realize the purpose of that pole. Walking over to it and grabbing with your hand, you swing around on it, trying to hold your weight up to see how many times you can spin.

A small giggle can be heard through the sheets as Momo reveals herself from behind the curtain. Momo always admired your playfulness. Being able to match her energy was one of the many reasons she fell in love with you in the first place.

You hear the sound of heels against the flooring when you stop yourself from using the pole as a jungle gym, whipping your head towards the noise to see your loving girlfriend…in black thigh high pleasures with clear heels and soles and a black lace lingerie set you had never seen before.

Breath leaves your lungs immediately, you can’t help but gawk at her. Almost drooling, taking in her figure, eyes tracing every single part of her frame, up and then down and back up again. Forgetting to blink completely, absolutely overwhelmed with lust.

Momo smirks at you, running her hands through her hair and letting it fall back into place, slightly lifting her head to expose her neck a little more causing even more of a reaction between your legs.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Sashaying towards you, hips fully swinging as she approaches. She wraps her arms strategically on your torso, pressing her body into you. Melting together seamlessly even with the drastic height difference, your hands around the back of her neck when she leans down into you, bringing her lips close to your ear.

“So, you just want some quality time then?” muttered through the tension created in mere seconds. The act sends the warmest chill down your spine and a trickle of neediness onto the fabric of your underwear.

Nodding your head softly and biting your lower lip, any frustration you had disappeared in that moment with the way she guided you back towards the chair. Using her legs to ease you backwards, still holding onto your waist before gently pushing you into the seat she placed right in front of her stage.

Eye level with her waistband, you stare shamelessly at her abs, leaning into press your lips lightly on her stomach while looking up at her, eye dilating as you feel the goosebumps on her skin rise and her breath to cease.

A long exhale and a shutter as she lays her palm flat on your chest, pushing you back against the chair hard enough for the front legs of it to lift a few centimeters off the ground. A warning to let her continue with her plan.

She towers over you, hair framing her face casting the most delicate shadows. She unlocks her phone, swiping up and tapping a few times before tossing it onto the couch that’s against the back wall of the room.

The lights dim and music played low enough to hear the sound of her heels clicking against the wood. The song was hazy, alluring, and unfamiliar, not that you paid any mind to it at all. You are focusing solely on Hirai Momo, who is preparing to give you the show of a lifetime.

Your show.

All for you.

Momo takes a few languid steps around the pole, circling it enough to gain a little momentum before lifting herself up and using her weight to rotate the pole, showing off a variety of different poses as she watches your reactions, giggling at the way you gripped the arms of the chair in desperation.

Pulling herself up and holding onto the metal with her thighs and a single hand, she spins slowly while leaning back, letting her fingers trail between her tits. She falls into her well practiced routine. Her grace and agility intertwining and creating this seductively sensual display of pure strength had you absolutely weak.

Of course, you were very familiar with her body, but you had no idea that this was something she even had interest in utilizing all that muscle for.

A surprise indeed.

Your soft, fluffy, bottom girlfriend was using her body to dance for you in a way you never thought she would. Swinging herself in a way so calculated and so suggestive that it leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.

It’s almost as if she’s grinding against the pole to taunt you. You’re staring at her attentively, burning holes into her flesh with every second your eyes lay on her. Dripping and clenching around nothing, shifting yourself in your seat to grind down a little and feel some form of stimulation.

The temperature rises within you, leaning back into the chair again to watch your girlfriend closely and see every muscle shifting and flexing. Her arms tensing through her movements makes your mouth and pussy drool for her in tandem.

Momo makes eye contact with you while upside down, legs holding her up on the pole. She slides down quickly, stopping herself before she hits the floor. Momo pulls herself up, swinging her legs around, you hear her knees clammer against the hardwood.

Breath hitching at the intimate display, clenching around nothing as she crawls towards you. So many filthy, vile thoughts race through your mind as her hands slither up your thighs, tracing the hem of your underwear, just to tease.

Gulping harshly as she uses your thighs to lift herself into a standing position. She places a finger under your chin and lifts it so your eyes connect again, lust blown eyes seer your vision. Canceling out everything but her.

Momo leans down teasingly close to your lips. Mouth chasing after hers in an attempt to meld together in an act of desperation. She’s sure to pull away but continues to stay close enough to keep you in her grasp. That devilish smirk paints itself on her face before she turns around, exposing her bare ass to you through her thong.

Oh, fuck.

Momo lowers herself onto your lap, slowly rolling her hips to the rhythm of the song. Your hands have a mind of their own, traveling up to her hips, taking in the texture of the lace and how it hugged her skin so perfectly.

A soft moan can be heard over the song playing. Momo’s hands fly to the thin arms of the chair to keep her level, rutting her hips a little harder onto you.

She lifts herself off you slowly, turning around to place her hands on the arms of the chair again, leaning over you as her arms squeeze her breast together with a very specific intention in mind.

Momo strategically places one of her legs between your knees before you go to cross them. She knew you'd have a hard time keeping still through her choreography. She wanted your face covered desperation and you dripping out of pure need for her touch. Completely at her mercy.

“You should take these off” hooking her fingers into your waistband to let you know it wasn’t a request. Sliding your underwear off hastily, tossing them out of view and finally connecting your lips.

Hungrily reaching out for her, practically losing yourself in her, your movements mirror each other's passion. Lips fused together, erratically fumbling through the open mouthed kissing and steamy lap dance.

Momo tries to kneel down in front of you, catching her before her knee can hit the ground and tugging her thong down to her ankles.

“I was enjoying that lap dance…” purred into her mouth.

“Maybe you should…keep going”

She kicks off her underwear and straddles your thigh letting you feel how much she wanted this. How much she wanted you.

This might have been her stage, but this was your show.

Her hands creep around your shoulders, pulling you tightly into her chest. The familiar scent of peaches and vanilla slowly eases any unwelcome tension. Your hands are on her hips when you pull her closer. Dragging her wet pussy across your thigh as you flex and coerce a groan from her.

“What was that?” teasingly inquiring, pushing her back just to slide her forward again. This time, a little rougher than before.

Momo clutches herself to you, resting her head on your shoulder while you set the pace for her to continue on. She whimpers into you, continuing to rut her hips on you while you mess with the clasp attached to her bra, undoing it quickly to expose her chest.

“Fuck, please…” whispered, removing the last of her lace leaving her in only those black thigh high pleasers.

Laying perfectly placed kisses down her neck until you reach her chest, taking one of her nipples in your mouth, rolling it around and flicking it with your tongue. Being unable to remove your hands from her, sliding one around her lower back and the other reaching for the boob that has had no attention, completely immersing her in your touch.

Music still haunts the background as Momo’s slick saturates your thigh, feeling it drip down the sides of your leg makes the knot in your stomach build. You wanted her so badly, you needed her, and craved the closeness she was finally giving to after what felt like years.

Removing your mouth from her nipple with a pop and ravenously bringing your lips up to hers, returning to the deep depths of lust that both of you were submerged in.

Scooting her backwards off your knee, you place a hand on her inner thigh, giving her the signal to spread her legs apart enough to straddle you. Lips never parting each other, tongues still intertwined through the waltz done out of pure need.

Her hand weaves through your hair on the back of your head, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip before playfully tugging on it and letting go. The pressure of her teeth causes you to moan, cunt dripping onto the chair the heated moment was taking place in.

“How badly do you want it, baby?” Momo’s hips buck at the question, you already know the answer but watching her squirm and beg for it was a delicacy on its own.

“Please…I need you. Please. Touch me.” desperately whimpered between her ragged breathing.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” You’re trying to play it off collected, even with a flushed face and the light movement of your own hips against hers.

Running your hands up her thighs, she leans into you exposing her neck. A silent ask. Open mouth kisses trailed up from her collar bone to her jaw. She’s panting at the gliding of your hands, up and down her thighs in deliberately slow, steady movements. Allowing your hands to dip between her legs and graze over her cunt.

An intense gasp is let out from her perfectly plump lips.

“There! Touch me there. Please, baby…I- I need to f- fuck -feel you”

“Good girl. You’re always so perfect for me.” a drop of her slick falling onto the chair into the puddle of your own as your hand approached her core.

Middling finger sliding up and down her absolutely soaked slit, just to tease her. Being sure to put the slightest pressure on her entrance and eliciting the most vile sound from her. She immediately tries to slam herself down on your fingers.

“Inside…I need you inside…fuck, baby, please!” her hands grip your face, fingers tightening around your lower jaw. Panting as she forces eye contact.

“Look at what you do to me, darling…oh, fuck” losing the grip on your chin and letting her hand trail down your chest, tugging in the sweater chasing your hand with her hips.

“Can’t you feel how much I want you?” mouths connecting passionately through the begary displayed.

Momo’s nails dig into your shoulders through the fabric of her stolen sweater when your teeth find her neck, biting down and entering soaking pussy with a single finger. Palm against her clit so she has something to grind into as you curl your fingers up, hitting her g-spot perfectly.

“Fuck…f- feels so g-good…need -oh my god- more…” jerking her hips to get more stimulation.

Pulling out momentarily to add another finger, she grabs your shoulders harder, using your palm to accentuate the build up of her orgasm.

Bites and hickeys lay across her chest which is heaving unevenly, spilling grunts and groans at the touch of your finger tips. Wetness coats your entire hand, continuing to thrust into her while using your hips as leverage to hit just a little deeper into her.

“I’m gonna cum! -Fuck, please-...c- can I cum?” Panted through her whines. She starts losing control of her movements, attempting to keep herself off the edge until you say that it’s time for her to release.

“Princess, you want to cum?” whispered softly to her, slowing your strokes with each word stated.

“And what if I’m not done with you?” removing your hand from inside of her.

Lifting her while holding her thighs, she crosses her legs around you. Making out while you turn, placing her down lovingly in the chair that she had originally set up for you. kneeling down in front of her.

Momo is half awestruck and half feral when she sees you rip her sweater off you, leaving you both completely naked. You yank her to the edge of the seat and bury your fingers deep inside her cunt again with no warning.

Moaning into the air, lifting her legs on your shoulders, the latex grips against your skin, almost anchoring her in place. Your mouth travels up her thighs with soft gentle pecks and light bites. Momo’s inner thighs coated in the dew drops of yearning, humming into the love bites as your tongue dances to sample her flavor before devouring her.

One long lick up her pussy before immediately attacking her clit. Her hands fly up and grip your hair, the overstimulation causing sweet moans and curses to reverberate off the walls.

“Right there right there right there, please -fuck- oh my god” her hips gyrating into your mouth, the neediness becoming more aggressive, returning to the edge of ecstasy.

“Tell me, princess. Does my good girl want to cum for me?.” Locking you into place with her legs and pulling you closer to her.

“Please, fuck, right fucking there unghh” the wet squelching sounds her pussy was making for you had you close to cumming untouched, knot tighten at every pump into her.

Her body tenses underneath you, grip tightening in your hair while she writhes under your touch. Unwilling to let go of her, you keep curling your fingers and refuse to stop your tongue from spiraling around her now very sensitive clit.

Momo’s face is beat red, hair sticking to her neck and forehead and panting in patterns that mimic hyperventilation. She pushes your forehead from her before finally relaxing her body into the chair.

A smile creeps across your face, being sure she’s watching you lick the remnants of her cum off your fingers. You shimmy her legs off your shoulders and the sound her heels hitting the floor almost startles her out of her post-orgasm haze.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby.” lovingly placing a hand on her cheek before standing and taking a step towards where the pile of clothes was. A tightness encompasses your wrist, pulling you back to Momo.

The devilish glint in her eyes catches you off guard. Squatting down next to her as she still catches her breath, you take her hand and sweep a piece of hair off her forehead.

“You doing okay, honey? Do you need anything?” All she can do is smile through her breathless state.

“That was not how I planned this!” chuckling and fixating on your naked figure crouching next to her.

“Stand up.” halfway barked at you.

Not being one to usually take demands, you stay right where you are. Momo glares into your soul, unable to make you do what you’re told. She rolls her eyes and with a pensive face, rethinks her approach.

Watching the light bulb go off in her head was almost perplexing. What was she going to do? Her pupils dilate as she slinks to the floor next to you. She positions herself on her knees facing you.

“Use my face, baby” sticking her tongue out and angling her head up.

You slingshot up so fast you almost fall over. Catching your balance quickly enough for her not to notice and position your cunt right above her tongue.

So this is how she can get you to listen to her?

She takes the moments to lick the slick off your thighs, trailing her tongue up before laying it flat across your aching core.

Momo grabs your hand and places it on the back half of her head. You weave your fingers into her hair and use her in any way you want.

“Fuck” leaves your lips. Smearing your slick across her mouth like you’ve never had her tongue on you. Frivolously using her like your own personal toy.

She moans into you, vibrations sending you into a spiral of pleasure. Hips grinding harder down onto her warm tongue, you are unable to keep yourself together for longer than a few seconds, untethering completely into a lust driven state.

Feral was an understatement. The ache in your stomach clenching tight for so long and threatening to release every time you skim across her lips.

Momo’s hands grip your hips enough to stop you, a hand slipping between your legs. Her mouth attaches to your clit and her tongue starts circling. Two fingers easily penetrate you, adding another form of pleasure into the already passionate moment.

“Oh my fucking god…Momo, fuck” whimpering down at her.

Arrogant glimmer in her eyes sparkle while the pattern of circles spirals on, fingers curling up and quicken in pace.

Dripping down her chin and hands, you’ve lost all control. Euphoria creeps in, sprinkling tiny bursts of heat through your skin.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum…hmmmph- oh shit, I’m gonna fucking cum!”

A flash of warmth throughout your body as you clench around her fingers, aggressively thrusting your hips. Muscles tensing involuntarily, moaning loudly and holding your breath as you cum into your girlfriend's mouth.

Gasping for air and trying to keep your balance was challenging. Struggling to keep your legs locked as she continued to lick and suck, no matter how sensitive you already were.

Wet fingers come behind your thighs to keep you up and stable, nail gripping you as she locks you into place above her. A devious look smeared across her face with your cum, continuing to harshly suck and lick into you.

The overstimulation is causing an erratic need to keep going, almost painful, twitching at every pass of her tongue.

“Hurts so good” hissed between the heavy breathing and groans of ecstasy.

Momo aggressively slurps and siphons every ounce of tension out of you. Forcefully eating her dessert while it gripped her hair and praised her. Smiling into your cunt as she ripped another aggressive orgasm from your body.

Trembling above her as she holds you up, she’s smitten with herself as you twitch and convulse by her hands and mouth.

Reaching around and sliding the chair behind you before you fall down. The powerful jolt of endorphins she coaxed out of you reeling throughout your body once more, sending you backwards into the chair as you heaved and tried to regulate your breathing.

A grin crawls across Momo’s beautiful face gazing up at you. Zippers unzipping and the clunk of heavy shoes against wood snap you back from the fucked out daze you were in.

Sighing heavily, craning your neck over to see her standing next to you with her hand out towards you.

“Time for bed?” Questioning while closing her fist and opening it again, to non verbally ask for your hand.

A soft smile paints itself on your face, lazily throwing your hand into hers before closing your eyes again.

“Did I wear you out? Come on, baby.” Tugging your arm playfully and giggling at how successful her plan was.

Groaning as she pulls, you stand up and take a step, legs still shaking from exhaustion. Smooth soft skin hits your calf and your lower back as you’re picked up bridal style.

Nuzzling into her neck as she carried you out of the studio and to your shared bedroom. Laying you down in your spot on the bed and tucking you in before taking a half a step away.

Whining out to her without opening your eyes, you put your arms up for her to crawl into. A fluttery laugh is heard from the end of the bed when you feel the covers shift again.

A warmth fills your chest and sinks you into such a relaxed state as Momo crawls over top of you, finding her place by your side and cuddling into you. Her arm around your torso and her nose buried into your neck.

“I love you, y/n. I’m sorry if I’ve been absent these past few days…I just wanted to surprise you.” A hint of sadness in her tone takes you a little off guard. She would never intentionally make you feel ignored or unimportant.

“I love you too, honey. I was grateful for that surprise. Please do that whenever you want!” Reassuring her that everything was just fine and you two were perfect, as usual.

You feel her smiling into your skin before she pecks your neck softly a few times before snuggling into you further. Her deep even breaths followed shortly as she lulled into a peaceful sleep, with you not too far behind.

[webshood]

please give your thoughts on the rest of the top 10 worst tropes in batfam fanon ! 🙏🙏 jason being tims caregiver is so ickyyyy

Top 10 worst tropes in the batfam fandom:

1 • Fanon Tim Drake

I'm not even the biggest Tim Drake fan, but that's not him. Y'all slapped Tim's name and parents (sometimes) on a random white boy (or a hyper feminine asian guy) and called it a day, he was never left alone at the Drake manor, his physical needs were always meet at his boarding school, he never had to make do with a can of pasta and a birthday candle, he never had to be homeless, he never went out at night on the rooftops of Gotham to take photos of Batman and Robin, Jason wasn't his Robin. His parents may be emotionally neglectful, but they never feed him food he was allergic to and made him go into anaphylactic shock. He's not a coffee addict, uwu bottom who had to do honeypot missions. Don't even get me started on how weird it is the increase of asian Tim headcanons/fancasts/face claims after he became canonically bi. (asian artists/creators not included)

2 • Cheater/Slut Dick Grayson

I'm all for characters being sexually liberated, but having the rroma character, which is a ethnicity not well perceived and sexualized to the nines, be the one who always cheats on his partners and can't keep his legs closed, who always just has to go do the undercover stripper or sex worker job, reducing his intelligence and personality just to have him act as a bimbo boytoy who's only personality traits is his butt and cocaine, like... It's giving racism babes

3 • Infantilized Cassandra Cain

Cass is a adult woman with a learning disability, not a five year old child, it's hard for people to even write Cass that much, but when they do it's so full of stereotypes that makes me gag, having her only use sign language is a small mercy from having her articulate words like a toddler and having the other characters coddle and act like she doesn't have the mental capacity to function in society when she's such a complex character, who, despite her lack of academic knowledge knows so much about people and compassion, it's lazy writing

4 • Caretaker Jason Todd

Kinda wild to have the guy who spent a good chunk of his life looking after his sick addict mother become the caretaker of a guy who's *checks notes* barely three years younger (Jason spent one year catatonic, so it's arguably) than him and just couldn't look after himself bc he *checks notes again* neglects his own body's needs bc he's a dumbass, like, oh but it's not little Timmy's fault, he has been born with glass bones and paper skin, every morning he breaks his legs and every afternoon he breaks his arms, every night he stays awake on his bed in agony, until his coffee induced heart attack puts him to sleep.

To be continued, I'mma write the rest later bc I'm sleepy asf rn

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Witch's Apprentice - Part 7

cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, size difference, agoraphobia, depression, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: 3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

You woke up alone and felt anything but. The distant buzz of people outside, on the streets, bustling about the hallways of the inn, felt suffocating. It all seemed so loud now, so deafening. 

Lucien appeared in front of you, giving you a quiet “Good morning,” and suddenly, it wasn’t loud at all, his voice cutting through the hum that had seemed deafening moments before. 

“How’re you doing?” he asked as you blinked up at him from your seat on the bed. 

Was his voice quieter than usual? Or maybe that was just how people sounded with the constant buzz of a city in the background. 

“I don’t have any stuff,” you said. It was a trivial complaint, you knew that, but you wanted something to hold onto. Anything that was yours, that wasn’t so foreign. 

He laughed and it felt cruel. You knew it shouldn't, that he was trying to help, but it felt cruel that he was allowed to do that right now, while you felt like you’d been broken into pieces. “We’ll get you new stuff, don’t worry about that.”

Like it was that simple. Like you could just get new stuff and move on. 

It wasn’t his fault. You knew that. He was the reason you were still here. But some part of you; some unsnuffable, horrible little instinct; wanted to blame him. Without him, you would still be home. Without him, nothing would have changed. 

“I just…” you began, with no idea how to articulate any of this to him. 

And then, with the most distressed expression you’d ever seen from him, he interrupted you and said, “I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And that was it. He faded away and you were alone again. 

You hated the deafening roar of the city he left you with. 

At least when he was here, you could pretend things would be okay. 

You didn’t have anything left. Anything but him. At least when he was in front of you, you had something to cling to. 

Hours passed before he reappeared in front of you. When he did, you didn’t manage to get a word out before a string of curse words escaped him and he faded out of existence again. 

You barely even moved as you waited for him. What would you do anyway? You had nothing to do but wait, so that’s what you did, patiently and quietly, on the bed he’d found for you. 

It was a shorter wait this time, under an hour if you had to guess. 

“Where do you keep going?” you asked as he solidified in the space in front of you. It was slower without you summoning him, like he had to put real effort into coming to you. 

A pained expression flashed across his face, disappearing as quickly as it arrived. “I’m being summoned.”

“So often? You’re a popular demon,” you said it with the cadence of a joke, but neither of you found it particularly funny. 

“Summonings go through phases,” he said with a sigh. “Names get discovered or obtain reputations. I was too nice for a while, people got comfortable, so I get called upon a lot these days. I’m rectifying my mistake. Hopefully, my name will start to come with a bad taste in people’s mouths in a few decades.”

“Oh. Good luck with that, I guess.”

“Thank you. It’s been going pretty well. Only one major lapse in my judgment,” he said with a pointed look in your direction. 

You couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “I promise to tell everyone you were real mean to me. Very scary, the scariest demon you could imagine.”

A huff of laughter escaped him. “Good. My reputation may survive this little affair yet. Now, what have you been up to?”

Your eyes flicked around as you searched for an answer that wouldn’t sound horribly tragic. 

He didn’t wait for you to find one before butting in at your obvious distress. “Come on, you don’t need to wait around for me. You haven’t had the chance to do anything in years, go talk to someone or something.”

You shrugged. “I’m fine where I am.”

He looked you up and down, evaluating you as you shrunk away from him. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened. I’m just fine in here.”

His eyes narrowed and you couldn’t understand why he didn’t believe you. Surely it wasn’t that difficult to understand. Surely anyone would be hesitant to go back out into the world after being stowed safely away for so long. 

“Something happened,” he said, no longer a question and entirely incorrect.

“It really didn’t. Actually, as long as we’re talking about it, I was thinking. I probably shouldn’t be here at all. I mean, I’m not doing much here. I could always stay in hell with you. It would be easier that way.”

“No,” he snapped, and you flinched back at his harsh tone. “No,” he said again, softer this time, a quiet correction. “I will not let you just lock yourself away again. I will not be your new Eden.”

“I wasn’t asking you to be,” you lied, unconvincing even to yourself.

“You’ll be fine. Just go, talk to someone, get some fresh air. It’ll get easier.”

He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, just how impossible it was. 

“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry about me.”

He gave you an unmistakably worried look as he said, “Alright, I won’t. I just think that… shit.”

“Is it happening again?”

“Just go do something. I’ll be back when I can.”

As you laid down in bed, with no intention to go out and doing anything, you wondered just how often he got summoned. You’d never really considered it before. You knew it happened of course, but you’d never put real thought into it past how frustrating of an experience it must be for him. 

What would happen if two people tried to summon him at once? Would it hurt? Rip him in two? You doubted that any of the witches summoning him had considered it either. 

And what other things was he being forced to do out there? Surely Eden wasn’t the worst witch he’d ever encountered. What other horrible things weighed on him every day, that he couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for?  

As time ticked on, another thought wormed its way into your head. Maybe he wasn’t being summoned at all. He’d never had to leave this often before he’d helped you make your daring escape and now he could barely stay with you for more than a few minutes. 

It made sense. He’d done what he wanted to do. He’d freed you from the trap he was forced to lay. His part in this should be over, his guilt assuaged, if it weren’t for the way you clung to him like a lifeline. 

The thoughts swam around your head until he appeared once more, looking irritated, eyes distant and cold. 

The spark of insecurity in you couldn’t be snuffed out any longer, not even in the face of his bad mood. 

“Are you actually being summoned?” you blurted out. “Because if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.” You knew it wasn’t true, that you needed him, but still couldn’t stomach the idea of him forcing himself to be here. “I thought we were friends but maybe that was naive. Is it just guilt? Is that what all of this was?”

He sighed, his hands rising to rub at his temples. “It's not... I don't know. Maybe at the beginning. I wanted you to be bad. I needed you to be. And you weren’t and it was the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quiet and broken and completely genuine. 

“You really are, aren’t you? Sorry for what? Sorry for not being awful?”

“Well, not…” You weren’t entirely sure what you were apologizing for. You just knew that you were sorry. “I just meant, sorry for making things worse for you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t make anything worse, not in the long run. I like you. I’m glad you got out of there. It’s just that right at the start I needed you to be a bad person so I didn't feel so fucking guilty. I hate doing this, you know. Being so cruel. Especially to people like you. But if I don’t things get so much worse.”

“You’re not cruel,” you said, knowing it was true and yet somehow, deep down, knowing it was the last thing he wanted to hear. 

“I didn’t used to be. That’s the rule. My new rule. No more being nice to the inexperienced ones. Witches like yours don’t give you opportunities to lash out so if you want to establish a reputation, you have to be cruel when you can be. Every single time they give you the chance. When the little witches summoning their first monster give you an opening, you strike. That way the next one thinks twice when they see your name in some summoning book.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Feels awful too. But nothing feels worse than being forced to do even crueler things so you do what you can. Lesser of two evils.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said, knowing exactly what crueler things were flashing through his distant eyes. 

“Maybe not. Still wouldn’t have happened without me. You weren’t the first, you know. You were the first victim she kept, sure, but not the first one who fell prey to that damn forest. You’ve probably seen what’s left of some of them, some bones and remains of them in various forms. She got plenty of use out of them, I’ll give her that much”

Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke and your mind pulled back to the various bones and bits of gore in jars that you’d tended to and organized for her over the years. You’d never thought about them before, not really. Even trying to remember them, it was like a haze began to form in your mind, a buzzing pain starting to settle in over the distant images. 

You started to fall to the side before the feeling of a warm hand on your arm brought you out of your head. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before pulling back far too soon. “I’m sure she’s tainted most of your memories of anything she didn’t want you to see. It’s probably best to not try and look back.”

Now you had one more thing to mourn, even the memories of your home being ripped away from you. How cruel that you weren’t even allowed to keep those in this strange new place. 

“Right. I’ll do my best.”

He nodded. “I know you will. You’ll be fine. You’ve been doing really well.”

It was a kind lie. You appreciated him for trying to tell it.  

And then you were alone again. 

You did try leaving this place. You swore you did, despite knowing in the back of your head that you couldn’t do it. 

You peeked out the window on the tips of your toes down at unfamiliar faces on the street and stood at the door, pretending you knew how to steel yourself for the task ahead.

At the very least it was something to do with yourself when Lucien was away, gone to a summoning or back to hell or just living his life, doing things he refused to speak about with you, always keeping you at arms length. 

But that was unfair. He was there when he could be during the day, when some other witch didn’t whisk him away against his will to do whatever they pleased. 

He never spoke to you about it, about what they asked him to do. Every time you tried he got very quiet and then began to push back, asking you when you’d go outside. 

Nothing quieted you faster than that. 

At night he was always gone. 

At night you were small again. 

You hated sleeping, avoided it whenever you could. You were terrified of the dreams that might come. You’d honestly welcome a nightmare at this point. Your biggest fear was you would dream of home. Your biggest fear was waking up again after. 

Instead, you just stared at the wall every night, waiting for it to be morning so you could wait for Lucien again. 

A thud pulled you from your trance and your head jerked up towards the window just in time to see a bird falling to the ground below after having slammed into the glass it’s little mind couldn't comprehend. 

You were moving before you even had time to think. It was for the best, you weren’t sure you could’ve managed it if you’d had to think it through, to force yourself to get up and go check on the poor creature. 

You held your breath as you walked out the door of your room, freezing for a moment. You weren’t sure what you expected to happen. 

A woman walked by you, turning to the side and slipping by where you were blocking the hallway with a quiet, “Excuse me, love.”

There was a pressure building in your head, behind your eyes, closing your throat. This foreign air felt toxic, a bile rising inside of you. 

A gentle hand settled on your back and you practically jumped out of your skin to get away from it. 

You bolted at the contact, frightened, flighty. Darted not back inside but through the halls until you found a way outside, running around the perimeter of the building until you found it. 

It was a small, unassuming brown bird, crumpled on the ground, an injured wing tucked under itself. 

You picked it up as gently as you could, cradling it in the palms of your hands. 

Every instinct you had wanted you to run back and hide. Instead, you walked slowly, carefully, trying not to jostle the poor creature too much. 

The woman was no longer in the hall, having left at some point after you’d fled from her. Some part of you felt bad, hoped you hadn’t hurt her feelings or left her worried. 

Most of your attention was on the bird. 

You had no idea how to help it, would have to ask Lucien tomorrow. You were terrified to touch the bent wing, to make it worse than it already was. Even attempting to set it would hurt the poor creature and you couldn’t stomach the thought of it, of inflicting any more pain. 

You did what you could, forming a little bed to rest it in for the night, a little nest out of towels and pillows. 

It was almost funny in a way. A makeshift nest inside of your makeshift nest. You were no better off than this frightened, wounded little creature. 

At least maybe, someday, it could get out of here. 

[aphrxditing]

How to start reinventing the new version of yourself:

☀️Build a morning routine:

Instead of staying in bed for hours scrolling on your phone, build a morning routine that will make you get up and start your day.

🌙Build a night time routine:

By having a night routine it sets boundaries for yourself. It will also make you get ready for bed and make you want to go to bed earlier. Lastly it’s a nice way to spend some time alone before sleep.

🛏️Sleep 7-8 hours everyday:

Sleep is soooo important (duh) you need to start prioritizing sleep over everything else (obviously there’s exceptions but if I hear you’re skipping sleep to speak to a situationship, I will quietly judge you).

🧼Find your signature scent:

We all know that one girl. She walks past us and smells absolutely amazing. We want to know exactly what scent that is so we can smell that good. Become that girl. Make people turn head and think about you all day because of your signature scent.

👜Find your style:

Stop buying items just because they’re trendy and actually find your style. Make sure you feel comfortable in your style, this will make you stand out because you will radiate confidence.

📔Read everyday for at least 30 minutes:

Also try reading out loud. This will help you slow down, think about every word. It will also improve your comprehension and articulation.

📝Journal everyday:

Instead of keeping everything inward and exploding months later, write them down. This will allow you to reflect on your feelings right away. Even if you had a very good day, write that down too. It will help you remember that feeling you had that day.

🧴Find a skincare routine that works for you and stay consistent with it:

Stop buying every trendy skincare product you see. Learn more about your skin and what it likes/don’t like. Once you find a routine that works for you, your skin will thank you.

☁️Meditate every morning:

Or night. By adding meditation in your morning routine, it’s a good way to start the day. If you decide do meditate at night, it’s a good way to relax after a long day.

🏐Work out 4-5 times a week:

Unfortunately you can’t get that dream body without working for it. You also don’t have to go to a gym, you can go for a run, do pilates, play a sport etc. As long as your making your body move a bit more than normal, that’s all that matter. Also you don’t need to to work out only to achieve a specific look, workout to feel good and confident.

[writingbyshiloh]

Medical Drill

Summary: Just more Team Germany stuff in the Toledo House

CW: smoking, FEM! Reader (referred to as “pretty lady”), general Berlin-ness, secret relationships, implied previous smut

AN: I ADORE Moscow so he’s featured in this. If it is disjointed it's bc I wrote half a month ago and another half while making bread. No beta. @soraya-daydreams <3.

WC: 1.65

You rub your eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness of your room and what must have happened to wake you up so fast. The curtain you drew last night is firmly in place, all your belongings are where they should be. You start to lay your head back down. You bolt upright when you hear another knock on your door followed by the Professor stage whispering. 

“Vienna! We need you! Something happened to Moscow! He can’t breathe!” 

There is a high chance it’s a drill. You tell yourself. If something is wrong, he will be in your room shaking you awake. 

With a sigh, you heave yourself out of your bed and start rummaging through the “medical kits” scattered around your room. The real ones for the heist are still being assembled, so you have old books ranging from Care and Keeping of Farm Animals, to Don Quixote, labelled by which kit they are and the supposed contents. The order of them generally goes from the head down, no.1 being head injuries, no.2 and no.3 being neck and heart respectively. You pluck no.4 - lungs - off the floor and sprint out of your room. The hall is quiet, meaning Moscow must be at the checkpoint with the Professor. 

You wince slightly as the steps creek while you run down them. But if you can���t get any sleep, you don’t feel back about the others waking up. Stumbling out the house door you don't even register the temperature change and just keep running. 

Moscow and the Professor are sitting at the outside table quietly talking, while every few seconds the Professor looks at his stopwatch. The night is warm with a clear sky so they don’t seem to mind being awake. You run faster outside, trying to make up for lost time. Slaming the “medical kit” on the table you look up at the Professor (ignoring his wincing at how you treat the medical kit) to get your reaction time. 

“This says number 5 on it.” Moscow tells you. You almost break your neck with how fast you turn your head to look at the book. You see the clear Medical Kit 4 label and look back at Moscow to see if he actually is having a medical emergency. He lets out a small laugh and pats your arm as if to apologize for pranking you. You feel yourself smile despite the early hours of the morning. 

“I’m just messing with you. You did well.” He says. You don’t have it in you to be mad at him, and lightly push his shoulder to let him know you see the funny side. 

“Well, good yes. It’s faster than last week's drill. However, in a heist, every moment is crucial to treat the hostages.” The professor tells you moving his fist to articulate his point. Pulling out a seat you sit next to Moscow, who offers you a cigarette. You nod and he hands you one and his lighter. You force yourself to nod and pay attention to the impromptu lecture knowing you’ll never have to work again in a few months.  

The professor only has a few more comments, things you make mental notes about to try next time before he bids you a good (but quite early) morning and leaves to prepare for the class day. 

“Thanks for doing this,” you say quietly. 

“I used to wake up at 4 in the morning for the mines. This is nothing for me.” Moscow tells you. 

“Mind if I sit with you for a moment? I’m wide awake now, I don’t think I could sleep.” 

Moscow nods and you lapse into a comfortable silence. Moscow is kind to you and praises you in front of Denver for getting an education to gently tease his son. He has ended up being your partner for many heist-related team exercises. At first, it was because his son kept ditching him to team up with Nairobi or Tokyo, but now you prefer to work with him over anyone else. Berlin is a close second. 

“How are things going with your boyfriend?” He asks lighting up another cigarette. You frown thinking over his words while you watch the cherry of the cigarette burn. You don’t tell anyone about previous partners you’ve had before joining the heist, trying to keep going through with the future and ignoring your past. 

“My who?” 

Moscow turns his head to see if you’re joking with him. When he seems you’re not he continues “C'mon, you know. The other half of Team Germany.” He adds extra empathy to the team bit. 

You drop your gaze down to your cigarette in the ashtray. Moscow places his hand on your shoulder and gives it a small squeeze. You like Moscow, he’s like one of those uncles who aren’t blood-related but always there for you. He dances with you after three beers and tells you corny jokes. 

“I, um, we have been ‘seeing each other’ for a few months.” You say, using air quotes to describe the nature of your relation to the leader of the heist. Moscow shows no anger or judgement, just his kind eyes so you keep going. 

“It’s supposed to be causal. And I’m keeping it that way ‘cause who knows what will happen inside the mint. I can see why he was married five times. Part of me wants to go along with it, even after the heist. But I can't risk ruining the money.” 

“Are you going to tell him?” 

You sigh, watching the wind blow through the bushes. You tell yourself you will but there are so many what-ifs it's hard. 

“I’ll decide when we're all on the boat.”

Moscow looks like he has something to add, but isn't sure if he should say it. When he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is a bad cough. You rub your hand over his back as he hunches over, carefully watching and waiting before you offer him water or a cough suppressant. Much to your dismay, he resisted, trying to get back to the conversation between you. 

"What were you saying?" he asks. 

"I can't remember." you lie, and Moscow is kind enough to understand the topic of the conversation entirely. 

“Let me cheer you up. Have you heard the one about the doctor and the teacup?" 

You turn to look at him, excited for whatever it could be. 

“Darling, you look exhausted,” Naririobi says joining you at the table for a lunch break. You nod slowly as if each movement is exhausting you, which isn't far from the truth. 

“There was a medical drill last night. I couldn’t sleep after.” You tell her. She nods sympathetically as you reach for another glass of water. 

“Go and nap. I’ll wake you before class starts,” she says. Thanking her you push your chair into the table and start to make your way to the stairs. 

You’re so close to your bed that you can almost feel the soft pillow under your head when a hand reaches for your wrist. Too tired to question or pull your hand back you just follow the hand to an arm clad in an expensive suit jacket, to a handsome face. 

You blink slowly, not to be seductive but to try and get some moisture back into your tired eyes. It helps but also puts you closer to an eye twitch.

“Hey pretty lady, where are you going?” he asks quietly. Everyone else is downstairs eating or outside to enjoy the summer but you appreciate his commitment to keeping it hidden. 

“To bed.” 

You watch his lips curve into a sharp smile, thinking you’re going to take him with you. 

“In the middle of the day? When is everyone awake? That’s risky for you.” He gently twists your wrist so he can kiss the back of your hand. “I like it.” 

“I’m going to my bed, alone, to nap,” you correct him, making no moves to pull your wrist back.

“How much time did the Professor say was an efficient nap? 20 minutes?” he twists his wrist to check his watch, shaking your arm in the process. “You can nap and we still have another 30 to spend together.” 

He chuckles as you shift your weight, seriously considering his proposal. 

The rapid heavy thumps of footsteps on the stairs make Berlin drop your hand and turn around. You bend at your side to peep over his shoulder to see who is coming. Denver comes into view first, with Moscow starting to loom behind him. 

You see Denver nudge Moscow to start speaking, some questions addressed to Berlin, something about the phone that will be wired to the Professor. 

“As you can see, I’m talking to Vienna right now,” Berlin says, turning back to you. He looks apologetic that your time together will have to be cut short. 

You wave a hand in front of your face. “I have to nap anyway. We'll continue this later?” 

Berlin smiles at your words, hearing the subtext in them and nodding in agreement. Turning back to the other men, you’re sure he’s still smiling. As he and Denver descend the stairs, Moscow catches your eye and gives you a friendly wink. One that just screams I was young once too. 

Face burning, you rush into your room, kick off your shoes and settle into bed. Even though you know you won’t be able to fall asleep now.  

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 5/8

+18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy 💞

The wedding was beautiful but terrible for you. Seemingly because of the bride and her stupid necklace.

The ceremony was out of this world, a scenery taken straight out of a romantic film. There were white doves, white sand, and white roses. Everything was white and pure, and you were determined to keep it that way by making sure that Nemo was entertained at all times. Weather that meant rocking him in your lap or waving a fan in his face, later letting him tair that fan into edible pieces.

It got tiring entertaining an energy induced three year old. Gabriel, who sat next to you, must have noticed because he took Nemo away from you with a wink of his eye. You kept rocking your chair, however. Your foot tapping endlessly to an invisible beat. Gabriel noticed this too and calmly placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently. It would have struck you as something inappropriate and out of line from him to do had he not done the same thing in your hotel room this morning.

The two of you woke up side by side with Nemo wedge between you bodies on the queen sized bed. Nemo was still fast asleep when your eyes batted open only to find Gabriel carefully watching his son, admiring the slow rise of his chest as it filled and emptied with air. You had done the same thing in the early stages of Nemo's life, admiring the beautiful human that you had put on this earth. But with that admiration also came a terrible fear. Gabriel was surely thinking the same as his eyebrows were frozen, deeply furrowed as if he was thinking of ways to protect your son from the bad things in life, or better yet, erase them completely.

"Hey?"

You brought him out of his trans by gently tugging at one of his curls. Gabriel's gaze shifted to you, his eyes smokey and tired.

"Sleep good?"

He smiled but shook his head.

"What were you thinking about?" You asked, curious if he could even articulate the terrible fears of being a parent.

"I need to buy Nemo a helmet." He yawned. "Maybe two."

"Two?"

He nodded his head. "Yeah, two."

You laughed, pulling the sheets to cover your shoulders. The sun came in from the window behind you, making a silhoutte of your body. It's all Gabriel should've been able to see. However, his eyes were on you and stayed on you as if there was something more. As if he could see right through you. See how liters of blood pumped through your heart and body, settling just below the skin of your cheeks.

It was in that moment that you felt his hand on your thigh. Felt how it had always been there, hiding under the sheets, squeezing your thigh.

"You may now kiss the bride....." The priest said and stood back as the groom and bride leand into each other, promising a life together with a fruitful kiss.

The contrast between the wedding ceremony and the wedding reception could only be described as holy versus unholy. It was a full-blown party happening in the hotels private lounge. The doors stood open, welcoming in the night as family and friends seemed to stream in from all directions. It was all a bit overwhelming for you, mainly because you didn't know anyone part from Gabriel and Rico. That is, until you were ambushed by a cloud of white.

"Oh my god, Y/N! I'm so happy that you made it!"

"You are?"

It was the bride, a slim blonde woman wrapping her arms around you as if the two of you were already acquainted. More than friends.

"Of course I am. When Gabriel told me that you were staying with him for the summer, I just couldn't believe him until I saw you with my own two eyes. And now you're here, at my wedding!" She squealed, once again pulling you in for a hug.

You didn't recognize her, nor did you recognize Gabriel's friend, the groom. So what in the world was this girl on about—

Your eyes were suddenly drawn to her necklace. A simple piece of jewelry that could only be described as an elegant yet luxurious silver heart necklace.

"Where did you get that?" You frowned.

The brides hand was brought to her throat and the chain of the necklace. "It means so much to me." She said, her smile faint, laced with something sad. "I know it's silly wearing it to my wedding with Marco. But for a long time, I truly believed that your brother was the one I would end up marrying."

It hit you in a flash. Memories of the past. How Gabriel and your brother Paulo made the most foolish attempts to impress a girl, no, not just a girl. Lucia Ferreira.

You had watched on, amused by how the two of them tried to settle things with a race of shopping carts. Or over a long game of chess. However, the most dangerous and foolish attempt to win the girl had been when Gabriel and Paulo challenged each other to surf the biggest waves by the cliffside.

Unfortunately, none of it had worked, and the girl was not impressed. Gabriel had moved on fairly quickly, settling for less, less being you. Paulo, however, kept his hopes alive. And through hard work at the local surf shop, he earned enough money to spend on a silver heart necklace, capturing the heart of his first and last love.

"I can't imagine how hard things must have been for you." Lucia said, her hand still grasping the necklace. Paulo loved you more than anything." Her eyes filled with tears, her laughter joyeuse. "Can you imagine him as an uncle to your and Gabriel's son."

"M...my son?" You felt nauseous, a dreadful feeling coming from deep below, triggering the compulsive tapping of your foot.

"I'm so glad that you and Gabriel found each other again. I can't wait for him and Marco to be back on tour. It will be so much fun to have you there too."

"Tour?"

"Lucia!"

Someone called for the bride. An older woman, her mother perhaps?

"Talk to you soon, Y/N." She wiped her eyes and reached out to squeeze your trembling hands. "Enjoy the food."

You were left standing, with the walls closing in on your soul. It was mostly the sudden realization that triggered the anxiety. The realization that a wedding such as this one wasn't for people like you. People without living witnesses to attend such ceremonies. Your wedding, if it could even count as that, happened through pen and paper, along with threats of taking away the one thing that could keep you going, keep you alive on this planet.

You searched for him in panic, the crowd blurry through your foggy vision. Your shoulders relaxed seeing Nemo with Gabriel, who showed him off to his many friends, people who loved and cared for him. People who would also love and care for Nemo if you ever decided that the emptiness within you was just too much, growing too damn dark. Poisoning your body, but mainly your tapping foot.

"Fuck"

The trembling was spreading all over. Your breath shallow as you pushed through the crowd in a desperate need of water. You kept walking until the night breeze whipped in your face. The ocean was right there, containing enough water to make the pain go away. You lost your heels in the sand but did not regret leaving them behind. If beauty was pain, it had nothing on grieving. Grieving was deaths cousin, it's partner in crime, and right now, you were overwhelmed by it. Without your meds dealing with it meant dunking your hands in cold water. Ironically, this was usually enough to stop you from getting the shivers. However, what were you supposed to do if the shivers spread to more body parts than just your hands? Like your foot, or your entire fucking soul?

As the ocean glimmer ahead of you, the moon lighting up the world's pool, you hurried to lift your dress, allowing your feet to sense the sweetness of the sea, the sea that was really salty. It's density allowing once body to float, unless that body is draped in a thousand dollar dress, meant to be worn once before it got tossed in the sea, drowning it's owner by wrapping around their face and throat.

What a sweet revenge.

********************************************

You were cold and couldn't breath, but at least your body had stopped trembling. Your soul was at peace. Maybe that's why you didn't panic as your dress got dragged further out in the ocean, further than you would be able to swim back. Perhaps that's why when you felt a hand wrap around your arm, fighting to bring you back, it almost ripped you apart from within. Why couldn't he just let you die.

"Y/N, please."

Gabriel's hands pressed down on your chest. Preparing to bring you back even if it meant breaking your ribcage. However, that's when you started coughing up water, and before you could open your eyes, you were in his arms, warm and safe.

"Fucking hell...." Gabriel breathed into the crook of your neck. "Don't ever scare me like that again. You hear me?"

"Gabriel?"

He pulled you back, eyes wide in the night. The palm of his hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb stroking your red lips.

"I'm fine. I promise." You scuffed, the salt water burning your throat.

"No, Y/N. No you're not."

Gabriel gathered you in his arms, lifting you up and off the sand, carrying you away from the beach and the cooling ocean.

Back at the hotel, the two of you slipped past the ongoing reception party. Gabriel had ordered you to wait for him by the elevator while he went to fetch Nemo, or so you thought. He returned empty-handed, part from the keycard to your room.

"Rico's got Nemo. I'll get him once we've finished."

You nodded, not knowing what you and Gabriel were starting that later needed finishing. Nonetheless, you got the idea of what he wanted from you after helping you into the shower, waiting patiently for his turn to hop in. Once he got out, you were already tucked into bed, sheets wrapped around your body like a cocoon.

"Please, Y/N. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on." Gabriel said, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed.

"Nothing is going on Gabriel."

"No?" He chuckled. "Care to explain then why I just fished you out of the ocean in the middle of a fucking wedding party?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I ruin your night?"

Gabriel stopped and stared at you. Dumbfounded by your arrogance. Was it a defense mechanism? Who knows? Yet something about Gabriel caring whether you lived or died seemed so unbelievable. He hadn't cared if you lived or died three years ago. Why would he care if you lived or died now?"

"I didn't know that it has gotten this bad?"

There was a dip in the bed as Gabriel sat down with his back turned to you, his gaze glued to the black TV screen. "Why didn't you tell me that things have gotten this bad?"

"What would you have done?"

His shoulders shifted a little, watching you from the corner of his eye. He then shook his head and chuckled. "I guess I would have come and tried to save you."

"I don't need saving."

"You clearly do." Gabriel turned around, palm pressing down on the matress, erecting the vains in his arms. "Y/N, I just pulled you out of the ocean. I saw you leave the reception and thought you were just going out for some air. But then when I went to check on you—"

"She still wears his necklace." Your hands covered your eyes, the tears burning the inside of your palms.

"What...who?"

"Lucia" You sniffled. "She still wears that stupid necklace that Paulo got her."

A lingering silence followed. With Gabriel most likely staring at you and the pathetic pile of anxiety that you had become. He probably still saw you as a girl. Orphaned and desperate for anyone to take her in, to tell her that she is still loved and wanted.

"She really loved him." You felt a warm set of hands cover yours. Gabriel, peeling your hands away from your face, forcing you to meet his gentle admiration. "Marco doesn't blame her for it. He admires her for having loved and lost but dared to love again."

You regarded Gabriel with pounting lips. Watching how his chin went to rest against your curled up knees, his arms stroking the length of your legs.

"You should really start taking your medication again."

"So you think I'm crazy?"

"Yes."

You frowned.

Gabriel smiled.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too. For making me pull you out of the water, ruining my suit."

"I'm sure you can by a brand new one. Even more expensive than the last."

"It's not how it works." He said, his tone stern and serious. You watched Gabriel as he worked the insides of his jaw, perhaps running out of patients with you. "I love you, Y/N. I know you don't believe me, and perhaps that is my fault."

"It is."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "It is...my fault. I still love you though, always have and always will but.....I love Nemo more, and if you can't—"

"I can!" You jumped, knowing where he was going with this.

He regarded you with pity. "Y/N, I just pulled you out of the ocean. What if I hadn't—"

"Don't"

"But I..."

"Gabriel, don't."

He sat back, his chin leaving your knees. His arms not stroking your legs anymore.

"I made a mistake, okay." You could feel it, the return of the shivers. A terrible sensation flowing through your fingertips. "I just needed it to stop. I just needed everything to stop for just one fucking minute. The water...." You nodded. "It helps to make it stop."

"The trembling?" Gabriel asked. Looking down you noticed how his hand had gone to reach for your hand.

"Yes." You sniffled. "But with Lucia and the necklace. It reminded me.....it was just too damn much."

"Y/N." Gabriel gathered your hands in his, kissing the back off them. "I want you to come and find me if you ever feel like this again."

"And?"

"And?" He frowned at your question.

"Yes and?" You regarded him expectantly. "And what will you possibly do?"

Gabriel's gaze returned to your hands gathered in his palms. Again, his lips pressed against them, soft with a light scratch of his beard. He then inhaled deeply, whispering the words against your fingerstips. Your fingers that weren't trembling anymore. "I'll kiss and make it better."

You watched him, eyebrows furrowed.

Gabriel raised his head, a trace of reassurance in his eyes. "I love you, Y/N. You and only you. If you need me, I'll be here, and if you don't need me, I'll still be here, giving you your space. Nonetheless, I'll always be ready to save you from drowning."

Maybe it was the warmth of the sheets that lured you closer, wanting to share that warmth with Gabriel who still sat in his shower towel, the fabric wrapping low around his waist, outlining the slope down towards his sex.

Or maybe it was just his words, spoken so simply and in ernest. His love for you real, and most importantly, mutual.

"Gabriel..." You were already leaning into him when he decided to meet you halfway, his curls wet against your eyelids. Gabriel kissed you, and you kissed him. Soon, his towel was no longer wrapped around his waist. But dropped onto the floor as he joined you under the covers.

Sex with Gabriel was but a faint memory to you, the last encounter occurring over three years ago. Even so, your bodies intertwined fairly quickly, finding each other's creases and pressure points.

"Gaby." You gasped.

He was pushing against you, hard. His white knuckles held onto the headboard, making sure that he was giving it to you deep. His cock, soft and hard at the sametime.

Your nails clawed down his back, desperate to hold onto something, but struggled with the sweat that ran down his tattooed skin.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Yes." You whimpered, eyes shut as you savored every stroke of him. Gabriel, with your leg hooked around his naked waist. "Please, do it again."

He smiled but surely obliged. Fulfilling your wishes by crashing into you repeatedly until he struggled with the pace himself.

"Fuck." He groand, too weak to pull out.

"It's okay." You sighed. Feeling how his dick was already twitching inside of you, his precum having already done the damage that his seed anticipated.

Gabriel collapsed on top of you with a guttering groan from the relief of his orgasm. You wiggled your way through your own relief and bit into the meatiest part of Gabriel's shoulder. The two of you then lay intertwined. Breathing in unison, heartbeats in sync.

"We should get back to the party."

"The party?" Gabriel lifted his head, grinning at you. "This was not it?"

"No." You said, hating yourself for returning his cheap smile.

"Oh, I guess we should return then. One problem though."

"What?"

"We have nothing to wear."

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[tomorrowusa]

There is a lot of emphasis in the news media on Biden's age while almost nothing about Trump's fitness. This needs to change and we should be more active about holding news organizations to account.

In a four day period in September, the cable news stations mentioned Biden’s age 193 times while Trump’s age was mentioned just 56 times. (MediaMatters.org on September 29, 2023.) After this one sided coverage, these same media outlets then polled the voters about Biden’s age and found (surprise!) that voters are more concerned about Biden’s age than Trump’s age. It’s garbage in and garbage out.

There's just a 3.5 year difference between Biden and Trump. But Trump is not the fitter of the two. Being an epic blowhard and blabbermouth is not a measure of fitness.

After Biden concluded his debt ceiling deal with McCarthy in June, the extremist so-called House “Freedom” Caucus members complained that Biden “outsmarted” McCarthy in the negotiations. The House GOP’s most extreme members hate Biden and have zero incentive to tell the truth about Biden’s good state of health.

So even the most extreme Republicans had to admit that they were outfoxed by Biden.

On October 2, Rep. Matt Gaetz (R-FL) took to the floor of the House to denounce the deal that funded the government for forty five days Gaetz said: “It is going to be difficult for my Republican friends to keep calling President Biden feeble while he continues to take Speaker McCarthy’s lunch money in every negotiation.”

As for Trump's health, mental health in particular, the evidence of his debility is on full display.

Meanwhile, the mainstream press has largely ignored and downplayed Trump’s declining mental condition and increasing tendency to threaten violence. Probably the only mainstream media piece that accurately described the respective health of Biden and Trump was in the New York Times on June 4, 2023. The pertinent excerpts are as follows: “While in office, Mr. Trump generated concerns about his mental acuity and physical condition. He did not exercise, his diet leaned heavily on cheeseburgers and steak and he officially tipped the scales at 244 pounds, a weight formally deemed obese for his height. After complaining that he was overscheduled with morning meetings, Mr. Trump stopped showing up at the Oval Office until 11 or 11:30 a.m. each day, staying in the residence to watch television, make phone calls or send out incendiary tweets. During an appearance at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, he had trouble lifting a glass of water and seemed to have trouble making his way down a modest ramp. Most striking was Mr. Trump’s cognitive performance. He was erratic and tended to ramble; experts have found that he had grown less articulate and that his vocabulary had shrunk since his younger days. Aides said privately that Mr. Trump had trouble processing information and distinguishing fact from fiction. His second chief of staff, John F. Kelly, bought a book analyzing Mr. Trump’s psychological health to understand him better, and several cabinet secretaries concerned that he might be mentally unfit discussed invoking the 25th Amendment to remove him.”

He's gotten worse rather than better since leaving office.

These aren’t isolated statements. The highlights (or lowlights) of Trump’s deteriorating condition are as follows. Trump forgot who is currently president, and claimed “the Obama administration” recorded the length of his “border wall.” He even claimed **Jeb Bush** invaded Afghanistan and Iraq! Trump appeared confused when he said Jeb Bush was president during the Iraq War. “You know he was a mili — he got us into the, uh, he got us into the Middle East … Right?” In September, Trump mixed up Biden and Obama, and claimed Biden might start World War TWO. Trump even said you need a government photo ID to buy a loaf of bread. At the same time, Trump’s remarks have taken a dark turn and he has repeatedly threatened violence. Trump suggested that General Mark Milley should be executed. If anybody else had said that, they would be getting a visit from the FBI. The fact that this isn’t being treated as major front-page news is astonishing to me.

Trump makes threats to media moguls and they go easy on reporting his delirium.

The run away front runner for the GOP presidential nomination said Comcast, the owner of NBC and MSNBC, “should be investigated for its ‘Country Threatening Treason’” and promised to do so should he be re-elected president next year. Why does the press continue to cover up Trump’s poor health when he has promised to go after them? How can they be so stupid? It’s pretty wild that, of the two leading presidential candidates, the guy found liable for rape and who is facing ninety one criminal indictments isn’t the one who is facing calls to step aside for someone else to run. The mainstream media has lost all sense of scale and proportion. The media fixation with Biden as opposed to this clearly impaired guy is journalistic malpractice.

Psychologist Mary Trump, Donald's niece, called her uncle a "dangerous presence" on Australia's ABC earlier this year. She also said he was essentially "an insecure little boy who seeks attention".

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Ask your news providers why they are seldom mentioning Trump's mental health in their coverage. They should not be normalizing his threats against people and his bizarre erratic comments.

[discjude]

it is literally 4 in the morning and I can't fully articulate this but like. I spent a whole lot of time trying to work out who the "third" in Rise + Fall is (given the 'two works well, three complicates things' rule in Fall) mostly because its the sort of thing that works really well for parallels (example: my insane Hook theory). Obviously there has to be a Third for the Prequels twins (since Soman wouldn't've made it that big of a deal if there wasn't), just as there is a third for the TSY and TCY twins: Tedros is the Third in TSY, and the Complicator Of Things himself - Aric - is the Third in TCY, but there's a lot more candidates for Prequels: you could make cases for Hook, the Pirate Captain, Pan, and Vulcan, from my memory. But none of them really stay around long enough for them to be the third, so I was struggling to pick one out that worked well.

Based on how the Rule Of Three is described, the Third has to be someone that gets in the way of two others, who are going to be the twins, and needs to do a significant amount of Complication. Aric is literally the blueprint for this (potentially also Evelyn, but also not Evelyn, for Reasons). So anyway looking back on it the Third in Rise and Fall is SO OBVIOUSLY the Storian itself and im mad I didn't clock this earlier

It's present through both prequels, where most of the other candidates aren't. It DEFINITELY gets in the way and DEFINITELY does some significant Complication, looking at the end of Fall. If I were to reach slightly, the first image we see in Rise and Fall is of the Storian physically between the brothers, mirroring how it ends up coming between them emotionally, and I like to think that's intentional (Book 2's cover does this as well).

More importantly, there's another part to the Rule Of Three pattern with the sets of twins that isn't explicitly stated, but is consistent between all three: the Third always replaces one twin to form the Two with the other. in TSY, this happens with Tedros and Agatha (predominantly). In TCY, this happens with Aric and Japeth - this is why Evelyn can't be the TCY third in my opinion, since she doesn't replace either twin, and breaks this pattern. in Rise and Fall, this happens with the Storian and Rafal. There isn't really a pattern to whether the Good/Evil twin gets replaced, unless you want to go into some very very very bit leaps ive thought about regarding the whole "was Rhian II evil or good before becoming Rafal, and does that also affect Japeth doing the same thing" thingy but I could not fully explain that stuff ever. There is probably so much more nuance I could add to this if only I reread TSY but that will happen Some Other Time

[medusapelagia]

Running From The Daylight - Part 15

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8,  Part 9,  Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

This is the last chapter! Thank you so much for staying with me during this journey!

Written for @whumpuary Rating: Mature  Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson  Prompt: You are safe WT: surgery, medical procedures Words:  1102

Despite the dose of caffeine, Eddie must have fallen asleep, because Wayne is shaking his shoulder gently, calling his name.

“Five more minutes…” He murmurs, before remembering where he is and that he is still waiting to have news about Steve.

“Eddie you have to wake up, they are taking Steve to his room.” Wayne insists and Eddie immediately opens his eyes, almost falling from the chair where he was resting.

“Where is he? How… what…” He has a million questions but the words are too difficult to articulate and he can’t put one after the other to make a single sentence that makes sense.

Wayne shrugs “I don’t know. The doctor will speak with us soon and the nurse just informed us that we can go see him if we want. But I want to warn you, he is still under the effect of the anesthesia.”

Eddie nods, stands up quickly, and follows the nurse to Steve’s room. 

His boyfriend is still pale and asleep, but the heart monitor at his side shows a stable rhythm and even if his leg has some long screws in it, it’s still attached to Steve’s body which seems like very good news.

“When will he wake up?” Eddie asks the nurse who shakes her head.

“We don’t know how long it will take, he was pretty weak when he got here so it’s probable that even if the anesthesia wears off he will keep sleeping. His body needs to regain his strength.” Eddie looks at her with such desperation that the nurse immediately adds “But it’s a good thing, resting will help him heal faster.” She tells him with an encouraging smile while checking the IV in Steve’s arm.

Robin, at Eddie’s side, puts an arm around his shoulder, murmuring that everything will be alright, that Steve will wake up in no time and that they should start searching for a black marker to draw a mustache on his sleeping face. 

Eddie chuckles between the tears while the nurse takes Steve's vitals and then leaves the four waiting for the doctor who arrives a few minutes later. He informs them that surgery went well and that they expect a complete recovery in a few months “He will have to rest in bed for at least a couple of weeks, but once the wound is properly healed he could start moving around with some crutches. He will have to do some physiotherapy to regain strength in the leg after we will remove the screws, but luckily nothing was permanently damaged.”

At that news Eddie starts to cry again, murmuring “Thank you, thank you…” While hugging Robin and feeling Wayne’s arm on his back.

Hopper tries to insist that Eddie and Wayne should get a room in a hotel to rest a little, but Eddie refuses and sits on the chair next to Steve’s bed, determined to stay with him at least until his boyfriend wakes up.

“We don’t know how long it will take. Try to be reasonable.” Hopper insists but Eddie it’s adamant and Wayne decides to keep an eye on both his boys while Robin and Hopper go to rest a little: it was a very stressful couple of days for everyone and now that it’s over Robin seems ready to fall asleep at any given moment.

“We will be back in the morning.” Hopper assures them while dragging Robin toward the door and the two men nod. 

***

Eddie has been holding Steve’s hand for hours when he feels something move. He stills and turns toward his boyfriend, trying to detect any possible movements.

"Steve? Stevie?" He calls, trying to get a reaction from him, and after a few moments, Steve's thumb flex a little.

Eddie gets closer, studying Steve's face “Sweetheart? Are you awake?” He tries again, “Steve, love, can you hear me?” he murmurs and this time the chocolate brown eyes of his boyfriend look back at him, confused “Hi love.” Eddie tells him,  kissing his hand, but Steve startles and tries to move and Eddie stops him “You are safe, Steve!” He says, trying to calm him down “You are ok! You are in a hospital! You broke your leg pretty badly but the doctor fixed it and you’ll be fine in no time.” He tries to explain to his confused boy “You are safe.” He repeats, brushing away some hair from Steve’s forehead.

“Ed?” Steve calls, staring at him with his blurry eyes.

“I’m here, baby. Help came and the rescuers brought you to the hospital, but don't worry, you are going to be ok in no time, do you hear me? In no time. Wayne and I will drive you home as soon as they discharge you and Robin and Hopper are here too, you’ll see them in the morning. Oh, and Robin told me that you are not allowed to go on vacation for at least a year.” Eddie keeps talking, knowing that his familiar voice helps soothe Steve who falls asleep again in a few minutes.

“Did he wake up?” Wayne asks, getting in the room with two cups of coffee.

“He did!” Eddie replies with a big smile, “He woke up. Just for a few moments, but he woke up.”

“The nurse said that it might take a bit for him to wake up completely…” Wayne reminds him, offering Eddie one of the two cups.

“I don’t care. I’m in no rush.” Eddie whispers on the skin of his boyfriend, then he turns toward Wayne “I want to ask him to marry me.”

The man coughs, “Eddie… I think you should think about it. I don’t want you to make an important decision like this after what happened.”

“That’s exactly why I have to ask him to marry me!" Eddie insists "I could have lost him, Wayne.” He tries to explain while his mind is still full of fear “And the only thing I could think of it’s that I cannot live without him. That’s why people get married, right? Because they love each other very much, and I love him so much I can’t even explain it in words.”

Wayne hugs him “I know you do, kid, and if you want to marry him just ask him, but maybe wait for him to be a little bit more conscious, uh?”

Eddie nods, still holding Steve’s hand and thinking that if there is a silver lining in the horrible experience that they had is that he has realized that he can’t wait to put a ring on that perfect golden skin.

[trainsinanime]

Representation and Recreation

Usual disclaimers: I like the show, I liked season 5, I had a lot of fun with the finale and I think it had a lot of great elements, like Bug Noir and Kung Fu Jagged Stone. I don't intend to be salty (though whether it is salt is, of course, up to you), I'm generally watching the show and in the fandom to have fun, not to complain, and season 5 as a whole delivered on fun.

With that out of the way:

Goddammit, this fucking season 5 finale! I want to write analysis posts, but I can't make heads or tails of it. I've seen analysis posts by others, and I've reblogged some, but I think all of them are lacking, both the ones that like the finale and the ones that don't.

For example, part of me wants to make a post explaining how the finale really only makes sense if you see it as three parts, taking Representation into account, and what it tells us about Adrien, Marinette, Felix, Kagami and Sentimonsters. I would really like that to be true. But then I start thinking about this, and it turns out I don't actually have a thesis here, it's just that Representation is a way better episode that sets up a completely different finale.

Think about it. Representation's "A" plot is that Marinette learns about the history of Felix and Adrien through an avant-garde theatre show. I think this is the best visual storytelling the show has ever had, and it's the prettiest too. Here, we learn about the Sentichildren, about Gabriel's role in creating them, and how Gabriel is a threat to them. And the Sentichildren need help, from Ladybug. As the presentation ends and morning dawns, it seems like Marinette has understood all that, and resolved to help the sentis.

This has no bearing on the finale whatsoever. Marinette learns that Gabriel is evil, again, and is surprised, again. In retrospect it almost seems like she thought there was a third Adrien-Felix cousin or something. The sentibeings don't appear, it's all about the wish.

Meanwhile, Adrien's plot is all about him beating the crap out of his father, and finally telling him off. This toxic relationship is finally severed. Adrien is still under his father's control, but he's managed to see him for who he really is, and articulate that, and finally symbolically defeat him, with the help of his friend. That's really great thematically, and it's arguably the culmination of the character growth we've seen all season.

This has no bearing on the finale whatsoever. Adrien just doesn't appear in the final battle whatsoever, and when he does appear (actually, who unlocked his cell?), he's just happy and seems to have made peace with the memory of his father again.

That's weird, right? If it weren't for Adrien and Kagami being imprisoned, Representation would have no impact on the finale at all, even though it's written as if it were the big lead in to the final big fight, where all the big thematic questions are brought out in the open.

Representation clearly sets up something, I think, but not the big season and arc finale that comes after it. Does it set up season 6? Does it set up anything at all? I certainly hope so!

Several people in the fandom have said that they trust the writers to pay this off. I'll be honest, I do not. This isn't meant as an insult to the writers, I enjoy the episodes they write, but the show just has a long history of doing things that look like setup that don't pay off. Marinette doesn't have trauma from Chat Blanc, she's got it from Kim. The Ladynoir conflict in season 4 ended up not that big a deal. Su-Han never mattered, and neither did the sisterly relationship between Zoé and Chloé.

(Aside: I have read all the posts explaining why it makes sense that Adrien isn't at the final battle, and none of them were convincing to me. Yes, it's Marinette's show, and I like that. They're not equals, no matter what the subtitle pretends. But to not have him around at all? His relationship with Marinette is the crucial engine of the show, and the whole thing with Gabriel also concerns him.

I particularly disagree with arguments that say Chat Blanc and Ephemeral proved it was a good idea to keep him out. He could have totally overcome whatever Gabriel put on him if the writers had chosen to write it that way.

The whole argument is flawed. It's a fictional tactical argument to explain away a real story issue. You can do that when discussing why the crew of the USS Enterprise didn't turn the Tricorder into a Transporter again or whatever, but this is a fun explanation, not an actual argument for why the story had to go this way.)

Anyway. This finale. I have no idea what it's about. I'm not even entirely certain I know what happened. I'm not sure the writers knew, and even if they do, they're certainly not saying. That is so, so weird. I love Bug Noir, though.

[oniikabuto]

general hcs ☆ south park

-- sfw --

characters: the main 4

a/n: it's literally midnight. i need to be up at 5am tomorrow. i'm writing about south park on tumblr.

synopsis: just headcanons of sp kids! their little quirks and habits and stuff

oh also aged up

...

— ⛧ e. cartman

has all of the really good snacks in his pantry

had a phase where he really wanted to be a garbage truck driver as a kid

listens to ariana grande and lady gaga

sings his heart out in the shower

refuses to admit it if you ever overheard him

weirdly sharp canines it makes him look like an evil little rodent

allergic to picking up after himself. there's literally a trail of shoes all the way up to his bedroom

never takes stuff out of his pockets before his mom washes his clothes but then gets pissed when his earbuds and stuff go through the wash

smells like baby soap

bites his pencils and they look horrendous

one time kenny asked to borrow a pencil and he threw it back almost immediately after feeling the bumpy chewed-up wood

thinks that menstrual products shouldn't be free because "can't they just hold it in??"

kyle will fight him about it

loves chocolate milk to death

— ⛧ k. mccormick

gappy teeth

but it looks cute on him

likes cds even though he doesn't have a cd player

always packs his lunch in the morning and karen's

there's little holes on the insides of his pockets and he has a habit of sticking his fingers through them and wiggling them without realizing

which make the holes bigger

keeps a porn magazine in his school backpack and leafs through it on the bus or in the library as if he's casually reading the news

sex jokes just SLIP out. he doesn't even think before he makes a sex joke.

his backpack is a mess and he uses the little pockets to store trash and edible wrappers and crumbs

has a disposable somewhere that he hits in the middle of class

kyle gives him a disapproving look when he stumbles into class high as balls

street smart but doesn't know how to do long division

favorite food is chicken nuggets with ranch

loves ranch (i fucking love ranch fight me)

will let you paint his nails

probably listens to tiktok music like mitski and radiohead and shit

also the smiths

— ⛧ k. broflovski

4.0 gpa all the way until that one A- in pe. junior year that dropped it to a 3.9

cried about it and sulked for weeks

stan almost left him because he got so sick of it (rockin that 2.9)

"dude it's not that big of a deal"

"MY LIFE IS OVER STAN YOU DONT GET IT"

keeps really organized notes- not just for him, but for the sake of his friends who take shitty notes

he has freckles idc if they said he's a daywalker HE HAS FRECKLES.

has a 10-step hair care routine every night

spends longer in the bathroom doing his hair care thing than his mother

spends 30 minutes every day watching tv with ike no matter what

gets violently competetive over kahoot

listens to the cure and elliot smith

keeps a different notebook for each class

— ⛧ s. marsh

always has at least one earbud in

sometimes when there's a lot on his mind, he gets very easily distracted

will step in the shower with his socks still on by accident

has a little crush on kyle (sorry style brainrot....)

used to read a lot as a kid, not really much anymore

unconciously messes with little papers or napkins in his pcokets and tears them to bits

gets like no sleep ever because he can't ever get off his phone or whatever he's doing long enough to try and get some sleep

still gets nauseous whenever he's near someone he has a crush on

terrible at articulating himself through text

if you want to show him a video or post, you would have to show him irl because he won't see the tag.

smoked weed once and decided it was overrated, but will sometimes get high if kenny asks or something.

loves vanilla flavored things even though it's basic

constantly has random change and wads of cash in his backpack because he's too lazy to stuff his things back into his wallet

[zoeysdamn]

Bark, Bite and Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader | Part.8

Summary: It’s time for you to face the decision of the school board – what will this change for Tyler and you? There’s also a conversation the both of you can’t dodge anymore. The walls of the infirmary will definitely witness a turning moment. 

Warnings: swearing, angst, smut (characters are between 17 and 18), mention of child neglect (minor)

A/N: Okay I’m sO sorry this chapter came out so late, it’s been a chaotic few weeks (apartement hunting, beginning a new job, moving to another town etc etc. And everything’s not completely settled yet!). Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy this part! 

[Masterlist] [Prologue] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7]

The following morning, you woke up feeling like you had been hit by a truck. The mere action of opening your eyes ripped a groan out of you. If only the mattress could swallow you all instead of getting up, it would be easier. However, school had no tolerance for your sorry little feelings and you got up very reluctantly. And to think you just stopped an armed attack the day before, you could at least have a day off. 

The tiredness weighting in your limbs was so numbing you didn’t even pester against the horrendous Nevermore uniform. After you got dressed you went to the dining hall without a word for breakfast. A whole barrel of coffee, that’s what you needed. 

Not completely awake yet, you didn’t notice the whispers in your trail as you entered the dining hall. Force of habit, you guessed. If you had listened to them, you’d notice all of the students whispering among themselves about yesterday's attack. It was only when you were halfway through your first coffee cup and a blonde tornado tackled you, that reality literally crashed into you. 

“Y/N!!��� screamed Enid, “Oh my god, are you okay?! We heard about what happened yesterday, how are you holding up?”

You blinked slowly at the blonde werewolf, registering slowly all of her anxious rambling. “I’m…fine,” you articulated, noticing equally anxious Ajax, Xavier and even Wednesday standing behind her – the “we” she mentioned, surely. “I’m fine,” you repeated, “I got out of it without too much damage. But uh,” you cleared your throat dryly, “why are you asking?” 

The bluntness of your question took them off guard. Xavier and Ajax exchanged surprised glances, a hurtful expression draped over Enid’s features, and even Wednesday frowned in disbelief. None of them had expected you to react that coldly to their worries. Sure, you weren’t the best friends in the universe but…your harshness still surprised them. 

“Because…because we’re worried, that’s why,” tried Ajax nervously, looking at his comrades who nodded their heads.  

“But why?” you frowned, a bit lost. 

It wasn’t something you controlled or even understood, really. Tyler had been an isolated case, the only person it had felt natural to open up to. Maybe Enid and the others were sincere, but the habit of having every outcast being wary of you was hard to break. The defensive position would always sprung up first. It was a foreign concept to you that was one of their concerns. 

“Well, because we’re kind of friends,” said Enid shyly, a glint of hope in her eyes, “right?” 

The way you blinked silently only deepened the awkwardness of the moment. Wednesday scoffed, “As far as my knowledge about human interactions goes, I was under the impression that the return of friendly feelings after such a statement was a socially acceptable answer.” 

All of the others nodded discreetly in agreement. And you nervously fidgeted with your cup of coffee at the realization of how hurt they were, casting your eyes down. “I’m a bit awkward about all of this I think.” 

Ajax was the first to chuckle, “Yeah…yeah you are. I’m sorry,” he said defensively to his friends who all looked at him with wide eyes, “but it’s so weird to see Y/N Van Helsing being actually cringy about something.” 

A light laugh slipped from your lips at his words, “Cringy, that’s right. I’m socially awkward, can’t help that.” You licked your lips nervously and looked up to the group, “I’m sorry for being such a bitch sometimes.” 

“No, no it’s nothing!” assured Enid quickly. 

“The venom is pleasant,” said Wednesday at the same time. 

Everyone looked at the brunette, and then burst into laughter one by one. It effectively eased the tension a little. Except for Ajax with whom you were getting along just fine, you had never expected to be friends with any of those students. At your arrival in Nevermore, you had thought it would be a harsh year, that you would go through with gritted teeth and defensive sarcasm. The harsh part wasn’t untrue; but deep down, seeing this small group laughing and being genuinely concerned about you, just proved to you how wrong you had been about the second part. 

“What even happened?” asked Enid again after a moment, sitting next to you and taking your hands in hers – and you didn’t even protest. “We heard there had been armed guys and- and that many people were there too. And we heard Tyler got shot??”

“Did they aim for his head,” asked Wednesday. 

“Only sedated, don’t worry,” you reassured Enid, giving her a small smile in reassurance but you could see all of them frown – Wednesday in deception, no doubt. That made you shift uncomfortably and you lowered your voice, “He transformed under the pressure,” you whispered, “but no one had been hurt by his fault, I swear.” 

“But…I thought all the mercenaries were dead?” quipped Xavier. As an answer, you only held his gaze; and you could gradually see the cogs turn in his head and he rapidly did the math. The way his face paled was unmistakable. 

Ajax and Enid’s eyes switched between the two of you, and quickly they understood too. “I did what I had to do,” you mumbled defensively, looking away. Just because it had been self defense didn’t mean you were overly proud of killing those men. Thankfully and much to your surprise, that didn’t seem to bother them for very long. 

Wednesday’s lips twitched slightly. “Nice,” she simply noted. 

“You’re both fine, that’s all that matters,” Enid said, sending a small glare to her slightly-too-much-pleased-looking girlfriend.

The two boys nodded in agreement. Their genuine relief was heartwarming; maybe you could let them in too, just like you had let Tyler. Well, not that far of course. But it was still something. 

Clearing your throat, you tried to temper their excitement, “There’s still the school board to deal with, thought. Weems is willing to back us up, but the board, well it’s something else.” 

Ajax frowned in disbelief, “What do you mean? It didn’t happen in Nevermore, why should they care?” 

Wednesday was quicker to understand and answered for you, “It’s a menace for them if a normie press charges,” she explained flatly. “And I suppose the board isn’t the biggest fan of either Y/N or Tyler, am I right?” 

You nodded, “If no one press charges against us, the board might get off our backs, but nothing’s so sure.” 

That made them – your friends now – look at each other in worry. All you could do now was to wait for Weems and the board to debate about the whole situation.

Apparently, the negotiations were short; at least that’s what you supposed when you saw one of the board members gesturing you through the window to come and meet them; it was the middle of your last session before lunch. Excusing yourself to the teacher, you gathered your belongings and exited the room. Once in the hallway you gave a polite nod to the pale ginger witch who had requested your presence. 

“Good morning Miss Van Helsing,” she greeted politely. 

“I assume the board has reached a decision?” you asked, shifting uneasily from one leg to another. Better finish this quickly, even if there was only one member you never particularly enjoyed your discussions with the board. 

The witch nodded, “We have indeed. I came to inform you of our decision regarding yours and mister Galpin’s status for the rest of the year.” 

Swallowing thickly, you tried to look anywhere but at her, “And?” 

“You’re both staying at Nevermore.” 

Not expecting such an answer you whipped your head to her, eyes wide in shock. 

“What?” you blurted in disbelief, to which the witch only shrugged. 

“No official complaint had been filed on the normies’ side, some members of the board didn’t assess wise to frame either of you for what happened. You did save lives after all.” 

You nodded slowly, registering that the board was letting you go. “Well…thank you I guess. It must’ve been quite the debate, uh? I wonder how much it has cost your pride.”

The witch chuckled at the return of your usual sarcasm. “Believe it or not, but personally I pleaded in your favor. Some members of the board aren’t trying to put your head on a spike.” 

“Mmh, who could have guessed,” you grumbled, “none of you had been really friendly so far.” 

Maybe playing witty wasn’t the best strategy. But even if the woman was honest you couldn’t help yourself. The board member glanced around and lowered her voice. “Some of us are more than concerned about this attack, Miss Van Helsing,” she confided in a whisper. “Those men clearly weren’t simple muggers, their presence in Jericho raises many questions.”

“For once we agree,” you nodded with the same low voice. “Is there anything new about them?” 

The ginger witch shook her head, “Not yet. The possibility of this attack being directed toward outcasts isn’t to be discarded.” 

That made you gulp slowly. Of course, you knew this was a legit thought but this still made you uneasy. At least knowing that some members of the board were suspicious too comforted you a bit. 

With one last polite nod the witch left, disappearing in the corridors like she had never been here in the first place. Instead of returning to class, you turned away and hurried the other way. 

A couple of minutes later you pushed the infirmary’s door. Glancing around you noticed the absence of the school nurse – probably on lunch break, it was close to noon anyway. There was no one there and you got to the room where Tyler was. He laid in his bed, sleeping peacefully, looking less pale than before. The anesthetic had worn off, his body should’ve healed since then. 

Sitting next to him on the bed you brushed the curls off his forehead mind-absently. Tyler winced softly at the contact, eyes fluttering open gradually. Brown orbs seemed lost, unable to settle for a few seconds before finding your eyes. He mumbled your name weakly, grasping onto consciousness. 

“Hey tiger,” you whispered with a smile, “glad to see you back to us.”

A lazy chuckle escaped Tyler, “You won’t get rid of me that easily, doll.” 

You grinned softly, “How are you feeling?” 

“ ‘m fine,” he mumbled, “ still feeling like I got hit by a truck.” His eyes shifted to the bruise on your jaw, faded but still visible. 

“I’m fine,” you answered his silent question, “we had worse, you and I.”. This felt awfully similar to the scene the night before; but now Tyler’s mind was more clear. 

He nodded but the worried look lingered on his face. Instead he tried to move to another subject, like remembering what you had talked about when he had woken up the day before. “The board?” 

“They’re letting us walk away from all of this,” you smiled weakly, “no jail for us.” 

Tyler’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth opened in a half-smile, half-bewilderment. “How did you manage to do that?” 

“Why, with my charming personality of course. Did you ever doubt that?”  

Tyler cracked a grin, his face illuminating at the news, “Nah never, sweetheart.”

Without really thinking about it, your hands had found each other, grasping tightly for support. It felt natural, like the gesture had been a mutual call from your needy bodies and souls. In a sudden rush of emotion, you felt your heart swell and you leaned forward to press your lips against Tyler’s. The softness of your mouth against his made him sigh, and Tyler’s other hand reached for the back of your neck, caressing it gently. The warmth blooming within your chest elicited a small whimper, stifling from where your lips locked with Tyler’s. It felt different, more passionate from the other times you had kissed him. More intense, and even more right. It felt that being right here, kissing Tyler with everything you had, was just the place you belonged. 

Caught up in your make-out session, you soon ended up half laying on Tyler, chests pressed together as his tongue rolled around yours. A moan broke from your lips and you started to feel hot, the collar of your uniform shirt suddenly feeling too tight. Just when you were ready to rip the stupid mandatory tie away, Tyler suddenly broke the kiss. 

“Wait,” he panted, “I have to ask you something first.” At your perplexed frown, Tyler only bore his gaze to yours in the most serious expression you ever saw on him. Then after a long handful of seconds he finally asked, “Why didn’t you shoot me at the Weathervane?” 

Breath hitching, you felt your throat become dry. Part of you hadn’t expected Tyler to remember so much of the events during his transformation. Maybe you had hoped he wouldn’t, to avoid the sensitive question yourself; while fully knowing you’ll have to face it eventually. 

Seeing your hesitation, Tyler pressed his question further. “You had ten times the opportunity to pull the trigger. Why didn’t you?” 

Licking your lips, you hesitated a few more seconds. “I couldn’t,” you whispered. 

“But why?” he insisted softly. 

The silence that followed answered for you. This had been beyond your strength; for the first time in your life, you had been unable to do the job because you hesitated. And deep down, you knew why.

“I just couldn’t,” you repeated. 

Instead of feeling hurt by your lack of a clear answer, Tyler gave you a tender smile. Grabbing your hand he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “Does that mean that you like me a little, then?”

The lightness of the joke brought a smile to your face. “Don’t flatter yourself too much, pretty boy.”

“But you didn’t deny,” he grinned. 

An amused huff left your lips; and then before you chickened out the words left your lips. “I didn’t shoot you because I couldn’t hurt you. I- I love you Tyler. I know,” you chuckled with a sob to his widening eyes, “quite the plot twist, uh?” 

One of his hands came to brush your face, trembling fingers barely touching your cheek like fearing you’d vanish. “You love me?...” he repeated.

You nodded, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. Tyler’s digits caressed your face and you leaned on his palm. “You really love me?” 

The tremors in his voice made your heart squeeze, realizing that his stupefaction was only due to your switching behavior. Yesterday morning at the therapist’s office you told him you weren’t sure of what you felt, and now you were telling Tyler you loved him; you definitely hadn’t made things easy. “I know it might sound like coming out of nowhere,” you muttered, “guess I’m more a girl of action than words.”

He chuckled weakly through his overwhelming emotions, “No shit. Took you an hostage situation to realize you had fallen for me.” 

“Yeah, I’m that much of a romantic,” you grinned, bubbly feeling inside of your chest trying to spill out under the intensity of the moment. It was the first time you ever said those words to anyone, after all. “I…after what you said at Fern’s office, and when I saw you as the Hyde I just…I couldn’t bring myself to shoot you,” you confessed softly, mirroring his gesture and caressing Tyler’s scarred cheek. “I realized that I couldn’t lose the person I love.”

Tyler suddenly brought your face down and crashed his lips against yours. A surprised gasp escaped your lips, quickly replaced by a breathy moan. The kiss overwhelmed you all at once, Tyler’s touch drowning your senses until numbness. Pressed against his chest you couldn’t repress a breathy whimper through the entanglement of your tongues. Tyler’s body reacted on its own with a growl and an involuntary grasp of his hand that had shot to your hip. The way he softened his touch ever so slightly just after the grip made you smile through the kiss. Parting slightly from his lips, you grinned at him. 

“Does that mean you like me a little?” you asked teasingly, repeating his own words and Tyler grinned back at you. 

“Took you this long to notice?” he sassed back, but the underlying softness in his voice was still here. 

“My mind got a bit lost,” you admitted with a grin, “do you know how hard it can be to think around you, pretty boy? You’re kinda distracting.” 

Sliding an arm around your waist so you could be even closer to him, Tyler smiled and dropped a teasing feather-like kiss against your lips. “This might be the strangest way I’ve been called hot.”

With a shrug you jabbed him on the rib, making him jolt with a laugh, “Told you, I’m a true romantic.”

The insolence and sarcastic unconventional answer made him smile even more. “That’s why I love you, doll,” he said softly, and you felt your heart soar and your throat tighten at the confession. 

Even if you knew he did, for Tyler had hinted and mentioned it a few times before, it felt utterly different to hear it so clearly. It simply felt right. 

Leaning closer you kissed Tyler again, lips instantly capturing his when he opened his mouth to welcome yours. The kiss quickly turned into a more heated make out session, Tyler’s hand returning to your hip and gripping it tightly. One of your legs slid over his and sooner than later you ended up straddling his lap, not once breaking away from his lips. Teeth clashing and tongues curling around the other, none of you seemed to care to remember where you were, or that someone could enter any moment. That being said, both of yours and Tyler’s reputations were already quite juicy at Nevermore, another scandal wouldn’t taint it much more. Plus, the school nurse must've caught teenagers making out more than once. 

The tenderness of the previous moment evolved into a heated atmosphere, hands clinging and kneading on each other’s clothes. While he hungrily kissed your mouth, Tyler’s gripping hand traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass; the squeeze he gave elicited a breathy groan, from the depth of your throat. A hot feeling irradiated through your entire body and the need to tear off your own clothes became unbearable. Needy fingers – yours or his? – clinged on the tie of your uniform, but in the hurry of the moment it was messy and none of you managed to successfully untie it. Huffing in frustration you gave up the tie but didn’t stop ravishing Tyler’s mouth. As a reflex under the building frustration, your hips grinded down, trying to find some relief and the gesture was welcome with a long moan from Tyler. You couldn’t help the smirk that grew on your face at the feeling of the hardening swell against your clothed core. A surge of passion made you bolder, your hands let go of Tyler’s shirt and jaw to push down the already disheveled bed sheet. When he felt you fumble with the zipper of his pants, Tyler gasped, breaking away from the kiss. The shadow of a protest formed on his lips but it quickly vanished when another moan tore from his throat and his hips bucked needly against you. 

“Eager lover boy?” you grinned down at him. 

With a raise of his pelvis, Tyler helped you with the laborious tugging of his pants through ragged breaths. “Won’t complain for sure, babe,” he grinned playfully. At the new intimate nickname your heart dropped for a second; but then a rush of newfound passion flooded through you. 

Impatient fingers found his hardened dick and wrapped around it, eliciting a heated moan from Tyler. Hair messy sprawled on the pillow, eyes half closed in pleasure, Tyler had the most delicious fucked out expression on his face. With his cheeks flushed and bruised lips slightly opened, it was hard to believe you barely touched him. And yet even you could feel yourself starting to get wet at the errotic vision of him sprawled under you. This wasn’t about teasing anymore, this was a messy and urgent need to have him inside you. 

From under his long lashes, Tyler glanced at you in surprise when you rolled your skirt up your thighs. As an answer you winked at him playfully. 

“Those ugly uniform skirts come useful after all.” 

Tyler swore he had never heard anything sexier before. But it was the vision of your panties being pulled hurriedly down your thighs that definitely made his heart implode and his cock twitch in your hand. Flicking your thumb over the head leaking with precum you grinned, panting in expectancy. The contact of your glistening folds against his length made you both moan hotly. 

“Fuck,” you swore under you breath, “I need you so bad Tyler.” 

His breath hitched at the contact, but he still looked up with a questioning look. “Here?”

You grinned at how thin the last string of his self-control was, “If I’m not riding you in the next ten seconds I’m gonna kill someone, pretty boy.” 

Just on cue you lowered yourself on him and he swore loudly, throwing his head back on the pillow. “Holy shi–” 

The warmth of your slick walls around his length made him choke on his own breath. Even if the delicious feeling was more than familiar Tyler couldn’t hold back the shiver running down his spine. His previous worry was thrown out of the window in the blink of an eye. A hand immediately shot to grab your ass cheeks, pushing you down harder on his throbbing cock, eliciting a high pitched moan from you. Smirking at your reaction he thrusted his lips upward playfully, meeting yours with a groan. 

“Better now, doll?”

With a grin you rolled your lips even harder on him, “Definitely.” 

A familiar knot already started to build in the pit of your stomach and with no time you found yourself bouncing on Tyler’s cock mercilessly. Juices spilled all over his hardened length, making Tyler dig his fingers on the soft flesh of the curve of your ass. Instead of making you hiss in pain it elicited a deep moan from you. The hot feeling of his thickness inside your sensitive walls made you buck your hips even harder, riding Tyler at a passionate, harsh pace. It didn’t matter where the two of you were anymore or who could walk on you; for now the only thing that mattered was the pounding inside your dripping cunt and Tyler’s hands grabbing your flesh to ground himself through his own thrusts. 

Mind clouded with lust, you didn’t notice the greedy fingers brushing upwards to your hip bones, trying to get a better hold of your hips to flip you. But caught up in his own pleasure, Tyler was too sloppy to switch your positions as swiftly as he would have wanted, and with a guttural moan at a particular strong squeeze of your walls around him, he completely gave up his plan – and gave himself away at the same time. Noticing what he wanted to do, you pinned him down the mattress, using his shoulder as leverage to ground yourself with the unforgiving pace your hips set. 

Tyler’s questioning look was met with a bossy glint of amusement in your own eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not the one in charge here, pretty boy.” 

Like a proof of your words, you squeeze around him, grinding down harder and eliciting as expected a muffled moan from him. But a flash of cockiness also appeared on Tyler’s face. “D’you really think that, doll?” he teased with a feral grin. 

The brush of his hand from your hip, and up your belly followed his smug question. The lust-clouded laziness of your brain registered, but oh so slowly, the sensual trail ghosting over your clothes, covering your heated skin like a plague. Despite knowing where it would lead, you couldn’t help the high pitched moan breaking from your lips when Tyler’s calloused fingers wrapped around your throat. A shiver of pleasure immediately ran down your spine.

Your reaction made his smirk stretch further.

“Let’s see who’s in charge now, sweetheart.” 

The pressure on your windpipe made it impossible to articulate the singlest word, only a wanton cry escaped. That made Tyler’s cock twitch inside of you, and the pulsing veins throbbed against your pussy’s walls, making you moan again. Sensing how responsive you were by the way you cunt clenched around him like a vine and how impossibly wet you got at his gesture, Tyler grinned and increased the pressure around your throat. A loud gasp and a wild buck of hips was what he got immediately. 

“Fuck,” you rasped in a breathy voice, short and edgy thanks to Tyler’s grip on your throat, “I’m close, I’m close don’t fucking st– ah!” 

The sharp thrust of his hips combined with the choking had cut you mid sentence. “You wanna come, uh? Gonna cum all over my cock with that slutty pussy of yours?” asked Tyler, voice heavy and tainted in lust. 

Unable to form a coherent answer like your mind had frozen, your body responded itself. The way you were bouncing, alternating with riding Tyler mercilessly was explicit enough. 

How sensitive you were to both his chokehold and dirty talk made Tyler’s heart soar in pride. It was incredible to feel having such a dominative power when you were the one riding him.  Tyler watched mesmerized how your thighs jiggled at every bounce on his cock, juices dripping on the soft inside of them from under your rolled up skirt. Your panties dandled on your left ankle, long forgotten, but the flash of the fabric barely hanging up with the force of your fucking looked so fucking hot to him. And the vision of your utterly fucked out expression and breasts bouncing despite the confinement of your bra and school shirt would definitely stick in his mind for a long time. What could he say, you wore his hand around your throat like the prettiest necklace of pearls. 

Another hard thrust made you throw your head backward with a long moan. Shooting up in reflex, one of your hands clutched the one of Tyler’s wrist close to your neck, holding on it for some grounding. The orgasm built up within your insides and you squeezed your walls harder around Tyler. He groaned in pleasure, his free hand squeezing your hip until his knuckles turned white. 

“Holy shit– doll I won’t last long–” 

The edge in his tone matched the eagerness arising from the erratic thrusts of his dick in you. Another squeeze, and he let his head fall down the pillow with a deep lustful moan, releasing himself with a burst of pleasure. The feeling of Tyler’s cum painting your insides and the pressure around your throat made you come undone almost on the spot. A spasm ran through your entire body, shivering under the weight of the crashing orgasm. You felt your own juices spilling and mixing with his own, milking all over Tyler’s spamming cock. 

The pace of your hips gradually become sloppier, just like Tyler’s grip around your throat softened as both of your orgasms sank in. Only lazy thrusts and heavy pants remained, for the two of you to recompose your spirits after the mind-blowing fuck you just had. 

It took you every ounce of will to leverage yourself on your wobbly knees and slowly pull off of Tyler’s softening dick. He hissed slightly, but quickly grabbed a wipe on the nearby table, swiping the mess on your abused cunt carefully without a word. When he finished doing the same on his length, you helped him tuck himself inside of his pants and finally let yourself drop on top of him. 

A breathy sigh left your lips. “Phew, this was…certainly something. Probably the best infirmary sex I’ve had.” 

Tyler snorted, “Because you have fucked in an infirmary before?” 

“I’m going ahead for the next time, lover boy,” you said playfully, nuzzling your head against his shoulder. 

The usual flirting didn’t erase the feeling of warmth flooding through his heart, and Tyler slid his fingers in your hair tenderly. Then after a few seconds of peaceful silence, his own teasing nature resurfaced, “We need to talk about your choking kink thought, babe.”

Head shooting up, you frowned at him like he had wounded your pride. “I do not have a choking kink!” 

This could have been menacing enough if it hadn’t been for your still blushing cheeks and the slight pout you gave him; Tyler let out a heart-warming laugh. “Sure you don’t,” he grinned, “and you never cum right away when either of us are getting choked. Good to know you’re into vanilla and denial, duly noted.”  

You huffed, putting your chin on top of his chest and glaring at Tyler, “You’re such a dumb ass.”

The words may have been mean, but Tyler knew they were tainted with playfulness and stubborn embarrassment. So he smiled down at you and angled his face to press a loving kiss on your forehead. “Yes, but I’m your dumbass.” 

You smiled too at his words and cuddled closer to him, your lips against his throat. “Yeah, you’re my dumbass,” you repeated fondly. 

When the school nurse came back half an hour later, the bed was empty – and the sheets long dumped into the laundry pile. 

The next few days become gradually calmer at Nevermore. The panic that had risen at the news of the attack downtown wore off as daily school life began again. If the police carried on the investigation on the mercenaries, nothing reached the ears of the Nevermore gossip; and thus the topic slowly disappeared in everyone’s mind. Even if the lack of news about the attack that had almost cost your lives weren’t to please either of you, Tyler and you were glad to have some peace at last. For two whole weeks the only thing in your mind was the newfound label on your relationship. Ever since you officially became a couple, both of you gave even more space to this “us”. 

It had become incredibly rare to see you being apart, even during the nights – your room had basically become Tyler’s now, even if he had already spent a lot of time there before. Ajax had even called you in the middle of the night once, worried about the absence of his roommate for the fourth night in a row. The gruff voice tainted with sleep on the other side of the phone, asking who it was had been an enough answer, and the gorgon had let out a “oOOOOH” after a long second of silence, putting two and two together. On the other hand, Ajax was rather relieved at the prospect of Tyler now spending most of his time in your room. Not that he disliked his roommate, they were friends now; but the idea of not risking to lose his sight by walking on the two of you fucking – again – was deeply appreciated for the sake of his remaining sanity. And he was also genuinely happy for Tyler and you. Not that he hadn’t seen that coming but he had honestly not expected love to go through your thick headed behavior. 

And honestly, you were kind of thinking the same. Not in a billion years would you have imagined you’d fall so hard for someone. The more time passed, the more you felt your love for Tyler grow deeper and stronger. Since you had come to the realization of your feelings and confessed to him, every single detail you had already noticed before became more and more attractive in your eyes. The way he always, always, let you walk in first or made sure you were okay and did so effortlessly. Or how his hand found its way around yours no matter where you were, at the slightest sign of discomfort from you. And no one got you started on the usual flirty and cocky comments, you would have never thought he could sound sexier than before. 

This newfound coziness wasn’t only beneficial to you. Tyler found it even easier to talk about what he felt, sometimes about very serious topics way too dark to address in therapy. Maybe it was because both of you had definitely lowered down your defense walls around each other. Once or twice, while you were cuddling on your bed late at night, Tyler opened up about his mum. You had come to understand that the topic had been brought up during his sessions with his previous therapist; yet he had never told Dr.Fern about her once. But in the secure embrace of your arms and the soft thumping of your heart under his ear, he felt safe enough to talk about it. Having him talking about his late mother touched you deeply, and you had listened to him patiently every time, fingers running through his hair as he laid his head on your chest. For you who always had a highly complicated relationship with any member of your family, especially your parents, the affection and love Tyler had for his mom was both an amazement. Mrs.Galpin seemed to have been an incredible woman, and the more he talked to you about her, the more you wished you could meet her. 

The feeling grew stronger as the parents’ weekend rolled by. It was perhaps out of nostalgia and longing for his mother’s presence, but Tyler had a melancholic expression the day before. Two weeks after the attack at the Weathervane, the upcoming event had taken place in everyone’s minds, including his. The prospect of ever other students getting to see their loved ones but him certainly did put a stain on his mood; but on the other hand, knowing you’d be here was enough to comfort him. That’s how you ended up plopped on the balcony of the passageway above the quad, observing the living yard in bewilderment. 

“Who do you think will get on Weems’ back first? Vampires or Sirens?” you asked out loud. 

Next to you, Tyler chuckled. Half-sitting on the edge of the stone balcony, your side was leaning on your boyfriend’s chest. Having preferred to stand Tyler could easily plop his chin on the top of your head – which you found annoying, but had to admit it was also cute. Although the way he could quickly press a kiss on your forehead made up for that. 

“My bet’s on the Vampires,” he answered, enjoying the relative peace the high-perched spot allowed from the crowded quad. “Is Yoko’s coven coming?”

“Nah, didn’t see any of them. They’ll probably be avoiding Nevermore for a few years,” you shrugged. “What a waste, really.” 

The freckled boy snickered and nudged you playfully, “C’mon babe, at least their absence is the only good thing today.” 

“Not it’s not the only thing,” you corrected, eyes suddenly caught by the newly arrived family, “holy shit is that Wednesday’s mom?” 

Both pairs of eyes immediately got glued to the tall, dark and elegant figure of Morticia Addams greeting her unfazed daughter. Anyone could have felt jealous of having their significant other ogling at someone else, but Tyler and you were equally too caught up in mesmerization to care.

“She’s really pretty,” whistled Tyler slowly, still not quite believing such a beautiful and sensual woman had given birth to the worst case of resting bitch face he knew. 

“Bruh, she’s hella hot,” you corrected in a blurt, “is this too late to say I may have a mommy kink now?” 

A chuckle escaped Tyler, throat dry at the sight of the goddess-like mother in the quad, “You know what, I’m not even concerned about that. Totally understandable.”

“Yup.”

“Do you have any idea on how to respectfully ask someone to step on you?” 

That made you laugh and you tore your eyes from your newfound crush to raise an amused eyebrow at Tyler, “You’ll beg her to step on you, pretty boy.”

“Damn right I will,” he grinned smugly, to which you pressed a finger on his chest. 

“Listen, I love you handsome, but I’ll push you under a bus to get this gorgeous and sexy mum to ever grace me with a smile okay?” 

The scarred boy gave you a crooked smile and leaned closer to you. “At least we’re on the same page, doll,” he breathed against your face before kissing you softly.

You felt yourself grin against his lips, and you locked your arms behind his neck. Oh, how much you loved that dumbass, flirty man of yours. Despite all of your previous words, you knew that none of you would actually leave the other – not ever. Even if Wednesday’s insanely hot mother asked you to. 

Breaking away from Tyler’s lips, you dropped one last feather-light kiss on his lips before turning toward the quad again. You were curious to see how the weird Addams bunch would react to everything – especially Wednesday’s bright and colorful girlfriend. But before you had the time to look for either of them, your face fell at the vision of two familiar figures entering the quad. 

“Motherfucker,” you swore slowly under your breath, making Tyler turn to you at the sudden change of mood. 

“Babe? What’s up?” he asked gently. But no matter how sweet he was, the anger rose up in you like a flood of lava inside of a volcano. 

“You got to be fucking kidding me,” you growled, and without any more explanation turned sharply in the stairs’ direction. 

Your very confused boyfriend followed you immediately, not quite understanding what put you suddenly in such a wrath. The last time he had seen you like that had been just after the assault at the Poe cup. Despite your furious pace through the crowd of students, he still managed to grab your hand and tug you close to him. 

“What’s going on?” he whispered to you, trying to not bring any more attention that your sudden appearance to the quad had bought. 

Fuming, you didn’t even look at him as you answered through gritted teeth, “My parents are here.”

Tyler’s eyebrows rose high in surprise at the news. He wouldn’t have expected any more Van Helsings in this school, but come to think of it your parents were maybe the less dangerous for the outcasts. For themselves however, it was a risky bet to come to see you, they would realize that sooner than later. 

“Tell me this is a fucking joke,” you barked at them. 

The sudden raise of your angry voice made the couple whip in your direction with wide eyes, stopping their nervous glancing around. They both had their mouths agape, taking in your angry posture a few feets away from them. You hadn’t seen them in years, but you'd be damned if you approached those people too much.  

Being the first to recompose her spirits, your mother attempted a small beaming smile. 

“Y/N it’s– it’s good to see you again,” she tried carefully, which encouraged your father to do the same. 

“We’re glad to be here to meet you,” he added, to which you only snorted loudly. This definitely didn’t help either of them to feel more at ease, you could see your mother fidgeting nervously at your cold behavior and lack of answer. 

"You look...well."

"You look like yourself," you snapped back bitterly, "that's how bad. And you'd look even better ten foot away from me, so take all your morals and go the fuck away."

The gasp your mother let out was so loud it made a few heads turn in your direction. Even Tyler sucked in a sharp breath next to you, eyes flickering back and forth between the three people. Of course, he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of your folks, and that your relationship was rather complicated with your whole family. But given you almost never brought up the subject he hadn’t imagined you being that bitter toward them. Although he understood why the anger, from what he had understood it was your parents’ change of mind regarding the family missions that had participated to put you where you were now. 

Despite the clear animosity emanating from you, your father couldn’t help but insist a little more harshly. 

“Watch your tone young lady,” he warned in a hard voice, “you’re still our daughter.” 

“Ah!” you snickered, “Now I’m your daughter you’re worrying about? Sorry you’re about ten years too late.” 

“Keith please,” your mother said softly, touching her husband’s arm to calm him down. Then she turned to you again, “We just wanted to see if you were feeling well here, that’s all.” 

Her words made your blood boil in anger, and if it wasn’t for Tyler’s hand gripping yours you would have jumped on them to gauge their eyes out. “Except it’s not, isn’t it?” you snapped angrily; still, you squeezed lightly Tyler’s hand behind you, signaling that you wouldn’t lose control now. “You’re here because you want something from me, right? It’s always like that!” 

The way they both looked away was enough proof. That angered you even more, but it also made a sharp sense of fury rise in Tyler at the same time. He had never thought much of your parents before, but now they were down right assholes. 

Frowning at them, you started to understand their motives. 

“You’re here to use me as a banner of your naive little non-violence ideology,” you spat venomously, “again. Now that I’m out of juvie I'm useful, uh?”

This time it was your mother’s turn to scoff, “Your time in prison was on you only.”

“You don’t know shit about that,” growled Tyler, speaking up for the first time. 

The three Van Helsing whipped their heads in his direction; you, eyes wide in surprise that he stepped up to your defense, and your parents seeming just having noticed him. The way both of your parents’ eyes squinted at him, scanning the freckled outcast from head to toes, didn’t please you. 

“You’re in no place to talk, boy,” sneered your father in disdain, and for the first time in years you thought you saw a glimpse of disgust in his eyes. So much for promoting peace betweens Van Helsings and outcasts. 

The growl that rose in Tyler wasn’t announcing anything good. “Don’t call me boy,” he snapped. “And I have every right to talk about this since I know what really happened to Y/N.”

Your father scoffed again, while your mother’s eyes flickered between Tyler and you perplexedly, frowning in disbelief. Still, she couldn’t help but defend themselves, “We know what happened to our daughter, don’t interfere with this conversation.” 

Snickering loudly, you let out a bitter laugh, “No you don’t. You didn’t even bother to bring your sorry asses to my trial, what kind of parents do that?”

“And he was there?” spat your mother. At this point none of you cared if curious students and parents witnessed your bitter exchange. 

“No I wasn’t,” said Tyler passionately, still gripping your hand tightly, “but at least I’ve listened to her instead of throwing her under a bus like you did.”

“What an outcast like you can know about this?” 

“God damn, here we are,” you said, throwing your hands in the air, “there’s the crack in your shell of hypocrisy. You really defend outcasts when it’s convenient for your image, uh? The infamous good Samaritans of the Van Helsing family, y’all!” you called louder, gesturing dramatically to the whole quad, making even more heads turn in your direction. Which didn’t please your father the slightest and just as he stepped closer to grab you, Tyler’s hand shot first. Gripping the older man’s wrist tightly, he glared at him darkly. 

“Don’t touch her.” 

“Let go of me this instant or you’ll regret it, boy,” seethed your dad. In the corner of your eye, you could see that even with her worried look, your mother was ready to attack any moment. 

“Then do it,” Tyler sassed, “go on, attack me. At least you won’t be looking down on your daughter after that. No more good and righteous Van Helsings.” 

This may have been the hottest way someone had come to your defense. You’ll have to properly thank him later. Plus his witty dare seemed to work because after a few seconds of tension-filled silence, your father tore his wrist from him, glaring at the both of you. Turning on his heels he stormed out of the quad without a word, no matter how pleading your mother’s eyes were. She turned to you, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. 

“What have Ephraïm and Irina done to you,” she muttered in a wavering voice. 

You scoffed again at the mention of your despicable grandparents. “Nothing more that you and dad did. Until you admit you’re as responsible as them for ruining my life, don’t even bother trying speaking to me again.” 

With that you grabbed Tyler’s hand and turned away from your dumbfounded mother, not gracing her with another look as you walked away. Crowd of students and their parents parted on your way, heads turning as you held yours high. The anger that had risen in the blink of an eye had died down as quickly, leaving you with nothing but a content feeling. Tyler however was still worried and as soon as you both reached a more scheduled area, tugged you gently to face him. You met his rich brown eyes filled with concern, a crease between his brows showing how deep he worried. 

“You’re okay?” he whispered, to which you only raised your eyebrows in surprise. 

“Mmh? Yeah I’m fine, I’m okay. They’re dicks but that’s fine,” you shrugged. 

A calloused hand cupped your cheek, “You’re sure?” 

The mere gesture made your heart melt, and you gently put your hands around his, “I’m fine,” you repeated in a soft voice, “truly I am, don’t worry. I haven’t been taking seriously anything my family has to say to me for years now, it’s not a big deal anymore.” 

Tyler still did not look completely reassured so you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, feeling him relax instantly. “I’m okay babe,” you said with an unusually gentle smile, “their arrival just upset me that’s all. They’re already forgotten.”

The worried expression on Tyler’s face turned into a pout and you couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hearing you laugh made him relax immediately and he smiled softly at you. Tyler slid his arms around your waist, tugging you close to his chest. 

“I love you, you know that?” he grinned softly, nuzzling his nose against yours. 

“I love you too, tiger,” you whispered back, before his lips found yours again. 

The rest of the day went rather smoothly. Most of the students’ families went on to discover the academy, or spend the day either in the quad or in Jericho to catch up. Even if you’d rather have spent the day in your room, you and Tyler actually stayed with most of the guests. Of course you never really mingled – except when you somehow ended up talking with Ajax’s mom, who didn’t seem to care the slightest of your last name – and always stayed at a good distance; but at least you showed that you were invested in the school life. Given the recent events, it was probably better for the two of you to show signs of good faith. 

It was almost dinner time when the new bomb dropped. Hand in hand, Tyler and you debated whether or not you should take the opportunity of the parents’ week-end to sneak outside of the academy and grab a bite somewhere, when an unexpected voice called from behind. 

“Tyler?” 

Your boyfriend froze before even turning to them. He knew that voice only too well. Whipping your head around your eyes widened at the sight of none other than the sheriff himself. Even if there were less people than earlier, Tyler’s dad didn’t seem comfortable in the middle of the outcast families. 

“You came…” muttered Tyler in disbelief, still not quite believing his father had actually shown up; better late than never. 

But instead, the gruff man only shrugged uncomfortably, “Yeah it’s kind of…a late minute decision.” 

Fighting the urge to scoff at him, you put a calming hand on Tyler’s arm. He was trembling under your touch, but it wasn’t clear if it was of emotion or of anger. 

Tyler snorted bitterly at his father’s words; definitely anger then. “What are you doing here, if you didn’t want to come?” 

The attack seemed to hurt the sheriff in his pride, because he immediately switched to a defensive attitude. “I’m here to help you, son.”

This time it was your turn to snort, “Woaw, big fucking deal. Someone gives me tissues, I’m gonna cry.” 

The sheriff immediately glared at you. There was kind of a déjà vu impression with the earlier confrontation. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

“Aww, you don’t remember me sheriff, I’m hurt,” you cooed in a mocking tone. “I thought purposefully ignoring your son had given you a better memory.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, nostrils flaring. After a few seconds he frowned. “You’re the Van Helsing kid. Should’ve lock you down for 20 years, you fucking psycho.” 

You gave him a mocking salute, while you could feel Tyler tense next to you. “Ah, that would be me, yes. But a psycho who saved some of your civilians sheriff, so I’d say we’re even.” 

Trying to ignore your provocative attitude, the sheriff turned to his son. 

“That’s who you’re hanging with, uh? Do you even realize what she did?” 

“You don’t get to say anything about this,” growled Tyler; but under the provocative words, you could still sense how febrile this encounter was making him. 

His dad, of course, didn’t notice that and chose instead to frown in disgust at your intertwined hands. “She’s not good for you, not good for anybody. You won’t change with people like that around you, son.” 

The insults almost made Tyler snap, but before he barked back at his dad, you let out a loud, exaggerated laugh. 

“Ah! Excuse me, but who the fuck are you again? The dad who never bothered to listen to him, or god forbid talk to him? The one who buried his head in the sand at every minor inconvenience? You’re damn right, Tyler won’t heal with someone like that around him!” 

The sheriff’s face turned into a bright shade of red. Stuck by your sudden outburst, Tyler tried to tug on your hand to calm you, to try to not let the situation escalate, but boy he was too late. You were fully launched now, and you would not stop until the roasting was over. 

“You want Tyler to change, but to what? Do you have any idea of who he is now? Oh that’s right, you don’t! You were too busy being the crappiest, most ignoring, gaslighting fucking dad in the whole universe, and believe me I had my fair share of shitty family.” 

“I won’t allow you to–”

“Shut up!” you cut him with a bark, making both of the men jump. “I’m so fucking sick of hearing you moralize Tyler instead of being an actual human being, and for once in your sorry life listen to him! God fucking damnit, the world doesn’t turn around you and this shitty attitude of yours!”

Through all of your speech, Tyler looked at you with wide eyes. All the things he never dared to say to his dad just magically flew out of your mouth. It felt almost too good to be true. 

“If you really did want a son, you would have listened to him instead of trying to change him,” you spat angrily. “And guess what? He’s absolutely perfect the way he is and if you think otherwise as his dad, you should be the one taking some fucking therapy sessions instead.” 

And just like this morning, you stormed away from the bewildered parent with Tyler by your side. The confrontation with your parents had upset you, but the arrival of Tyler’s dad and his life lessons had brought up unbelievable anger. But just like before, the more you walked away from him the more the anger died down. 

Suddenly becoming aware of Tyler’s silence for the past minute, you stopped and turned your face to him. 

“You’re okay?” you asked him. 

Eyes and mouth wide open, Tyler stared at you for long seconds. It was hard to tell if his expression and the slight blush on his cheeks were due to intense emotion or excitement. Little did you know, seeing you roasting his dad had brought in him a level of amazement and attraction beyond compare.

“Please have my babies,” he blurted out of nowhere. 

A laugh escaped you, resonating through the corridor. Sliding your arm around his waist, you tilted your head to kiss him briefly. 

“That sounds like a plan, pretty boy,” you smirked before tugging him to the dorms’ direction. 

A few minutes later the upsetting encounters of the day were long forgotten. Blessedly unaware of the real reason behind the arrival of the sheriff at Nevermore, unfolding at the same time in Weems’ office, Tyler and you found comfort in each other’s arms like always. Whatever dreading news had been bought by sheriff Galpin would wait.

[Part.9] 

A/N: yes I’ll make every single character simp over Morticia “step on me mommy plz” Addams, because I can 

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥ Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist: 

@igotanidea​ @officerrrfriendly​ @beggingforxavierthorpe​ @aliciahlewis​ @stresseyzesty​ @katiemrty​ @leightonsteele @black-swan-blog27​ @mooniesthings​ @nightfurya​ @steadypoetrydinosaur​ @hellokittysblog0 @thecraftoflove​ @yasmine302​ 

Usernames unfound by Tumblr: 

@spiceyhotsherbet

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!) Do not hesitate to mention it, it’s been quite a while I’ve check the taglist, I might have forgotten some newcomers (and if so, I deeply apologize)

[princesscolumbia]

Return to Recipient - A Ranma 1/2 fanfic

Summary:

Ranma hasn't been feeling right for as long as he can remember, and he just figured that's normal. But after Jusenkyo, and especially after Jusendo, the feeling of "wrongness" has been getting more and more noticeable... ...because he doesn't feel it in his cursed form. He continues to just cope, keeping his struggle to himself, until he finds a letter tucked into his old travel pack addressed to him, written by him, from a 48 hour period that he doesn't remember and nobody will talk to him about.

Notes:

During the writing of 🔞 And at This Point I'm Afraid to Ask 🔞, I realized I was speed-running Ranma's egg-to-hatched trans journey and made an author's note of that. In the comments for that work, I got a note bemoaning the fact that I didn't spend more time on Ranma's realization, coming out, and social transition as a woman while understanding my reasoning. I replied stating that I needed a good hook, something that hadn't been hammered to death by other authors, and at the time I didn't have anything. I really got it in my head that I should do something, so I posted to Tumblr and started putting it out to the universe that I was Poly Transwoman Author Seeking Story Inspiration and Motivation, in Open Relationship with current WIPs. I was scrolling through the "Ranma 1/2" tag this morning trying to find something I hadn't read when I bumped into Dear Diary by JaquiK. I've read it, of course, and it's short and, for what it sets out to do, good. "Feels like it needs more," says I, "Wish the author would continue it, make something more of it than they did." The little author that lives in my head rent free and looks remarkably like Ranma-chan ran up behind me and socked me in the back of my head, "Dummy! There's your plot hook!" Then she backed a dump truck up and dropped about 3/4 of a story's worth of ideas on me. With the 2023 holidays in full swing (it's Cyber Monday as I type this) I'm not sure how quickly I'll get to outlining this or getting chapters 2-5 out (my personal metric for whether the author is serious about a work is if they have 5 chapters out. This has been a solid rule of thumb for long-form fiction and hasn't failed me regardless of fandom), but I wanted to get at least chapter 1 out as quickly as possible. Tags will be added as I add more chapters, mostly because my writing process means I'm not sure what tags will apply until I'm writing something that necessitates them. 😋 I hope you enjoy it.

Preview below the cut

He had opened it and read the letter. Halfway through he realized he was shaking and that was when he'd vacated to the roof. He finished reading it fairly quickly, read it again, and then again. He was sure it was a fake of some sort at first, but it was like there was a voice in the back of his head telling him it was the genuine article. Not a 'voice,' per se, but like he could hear it in his girl-form's voice as he read it, like a memory of her reading it to herself after she'd written it to make sure it made sense. After, he'd sat there for nearly half an hour, watching as the sky turned deeper blue in anticipation of the sunset. Sighing for reasons he couldn't articulate yet, he looked at the top of the paper, noting the date again. It'd been written months earlier, on a day that was a big gap in Ranma's memory. This wasn't unusual for him, of course, his memory was notoriously spotty. This particular gap stood out, however, because he hadn't been able to tease the memory out no matter how he worked it, and everyone in the house behaved...weird whenever he asked about it. That more than anything told him that whatever had happened was significant enough the be memorable...about a time he had no memory.

He read the letter again,

Dear Ranma Saotome, I hope quite sincerely that you never find this letter, that you won't ever need to find it because you won't have come back. That sounds awful, but if you're back, then that means that I'm gone. I woke up this morning, and for once in my life I felt right. I didn't realize until it'd been explained to me by Akane that I didn't belong. I'm somehow in your body, awake and alive and able to be just me, and all thanks to Jusenkyo. And, apparently, a smack on the head with a pan. I love Akane, but she has such a temper. And I do feel ALIVE. I have your memories, but they're so...cloudy, so dark and hazy. When I make myself remember them, it's like a layer of shadow and pain is over all of them. It hurt so much to be you that I can understand why you hid away and I came out. Your body makes me feel wrong.  I don't know what it means, how it happened or why I'm here. I think maybe a doctor might be able to help, but then we'd have to explain about the...'curse.' I don't like calling it a curse, that would mean it was bad. For me, it's not. It's wonderful and beautiful and it means I get to exist in a body that doesn't make me feel like I'm wrong. Uncle Tendo splashed me with hot water and turned me into a boy, and it was horrible. I wanted to climb out of my skin to make the wrongness stop. Don't get me wrong, I understand that you're quite handsome, in another world I could probably see you and consider you a fine catch, maybe even try to make you my husband somehow. But to be wearing your body felt like looking down and seeing a

At this point there were several attempts to write a kanji, each attempt being scratched out with the pen. Finally, the writer of the letter managed to put down what they were trying to say;

cat and not being able to get away from it. Being a boy felt horrible and wrong. You're welcome to it, I never could. In case I haven't made it clear, I'm a woman. Well, I suppose I'm still a girl, but I'm growing up to be a woman and I have dreams of being like big sis Kasumi and keeping a nice house and getting flowers, maybe planting a garden. I want to be married, but I guess I haven't grown up enough yet, because I don't think I like boys yet. I keep imagining a future where I'm married and being a housewife, but all I can see as a 'husband' is Akane. Isn't that silly? She's a tomboy, but she's not that much of a boy! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o In case you do read this letter, take care of Akane. She took good care of me today, even though it was very obvious she missed you terribly. I'm writing this in our room as I'm trying to sleep, hoping that it will help with my racing thoughts and the feeling of loneliness; father is refusing to sleep in the room, he considers me disgraceful. I find without someone else around I cannot sleep. I imagine that's because, from what I remember, that's the only life you've ever known, and technically you and I are the same person. If you are reading this, then I'm gone. Please find a way to stop that awful pain you carry with you. I experienced it for only a few hours, you've had it for your entire life. As strong as you are, as much of a martial artist as everyone says, I can only imagine that much pain will break you someday. Love, Ranma Saotome

Pain... thought Ranma. She called it pain.

Read the whole thing on AO3