#not only did i have to make them myself but i had to SCOUR the net for live salmon!! omg

[nihilanth-stims]

gordon freeman stimboard with themes of live & cooked salmon for anonymous! i found fishe :))

🍣🍣🍣 - 🍣🍣🍣 - 🍣🍣🍣

[helluvapoison]

You were a rare soul— and that means something down here. You didn’t care about holding the title Overlord, nor the power that came with it. You had exactly zero souls under your belt, yet people… respected you. Not feared, respected. A peculiar word to hear in Hell.

Your name was uttered quieter than a whisper, like saying it an octave too loud would summon you.

The Rat King.

Soon you would meet…

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: gn reader, language, angst, canon divergence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• He thought it was very brave (re: idiotic) to carry the title king in his domain

• Lucifer came to you out of boredom, absurdity, and— no shit— the slightest bit of self indulgence! He was supposed to see this so called second king and rip them a new asshole. Except you weren’t a king— not even close

• He scoured you toes to head, seemingly unimpressed. Not rat-like, not king-like. Lucifer knew himself well enough to know he should have been bored by now. His expectations plummeted, nothing was going according to plan. And yet.. he found himself more curious than before

“You’re this ‘Rat King’ I hear so much about?”

“I guess so” You shrugged, “But I didn’t pick that name for myself.”

• You properly introduced yourself to the one and only king. Your real name tasted interesting on his tongue. Lucifer tested it thrice as he shook your hand, relooking you over like he missed something

• Apparently they called you The Rat King because you were in the secret trading business. Give one, get one. Simple as that. You explained the rules to him over a cup of tea that he asked for. It wasn’t his first or second choice of blend but he drank it to be polite. No other motive. Definitely not because there was a question on the tip of his split tongue

• Lucifer wasn’t the most observant of people. He couldn’t tell what people were thinking, he wasn’t fluent in body language. So when he caught your eyes bouncing between his tight grip on the chipped cup you offered him, to his jittery knee sticking out from where he sat. His body and his head were, for one, in agreeance; leave, they told him. He didn’t like to be sized up and that was always his go to answer for why someone was watching him so intently. But with his chest facing you, and his heart in control, he stayed put

• “Lilith.” He choked out, “I want any knowledge you have on her.”

Saying her name out loud hurt more than he thought it would. It was acid in his belly, smoke in his lungs, and fire on his tongue.

Your smile faded.

“What?” He scoffed, “Lemme guess, you want something, right? A deal? I have to make a deal to find my own wife? Let’s get this over with then! I’m the fucking King of Hell, whatever you want is—“

Your hand shot out so suddenly that Lucifer was almost disappointed. He was expecting this. Right? This is what Sinners did, it’s why they were here. Why was he hoping you’d be different? And, more importantly, when did hope creep into his system again? He hadn’t been on good terms with the feeling in decades.

• However, Lucifer’s disappointment was killed before it could spread. Gently, so gently he could cry, you took his hand and pushed it, palm down, onto the table. Your eyes never left his. There was something about them that captivated him. He loathed it. It made him feel small. Not the kind of small that equaled insignificant, either.

No, it was worse.

Vulnerable.

“I don’t do deals,” You said quickly and it had Lucifer wondering if those eyes of yours saw how his mind was spiraling.

Stealing his hand back, ignoring how he immediately missed the contact, he wiped it on his pants.

A suspicious glare took over his face, “You—?What? You don’t do deals? What does that even mean!?”

“I just… trade secrets,” You sounded so defeated, “I don’t need deals for that. But I don’t have any secrets about the queen. I’m sorry.”

• Lucifer expected pity to rear its ugly head from you any moment now. His pride couldn’t take that hit, not today. What was it about you that made him so fucking transparent?

• The uncomfortable silence began creeping into the insufferably small shop of yours. It was fucking suffocating.

“I wish I could help you, I really do.” You said softly.

He really wished you would stop doing that. Your softness felt like a dagger to the heart. Reminding him it existed was agony he thought he’d never feel again.

• “Not one?” Lucifer asked bitterly.

Not a single one of these undeserving demons and sinners that Lilith loved so much spoke about her? Not a whisper or a rumor? They just forgot about her? It’s only been 4 years!

“I’m sorry, your majesty, if I hear something, I can—“

“No… No, it’s fine.” Lucifer cut you off, holding up his hand. His wedding ring blinded him with a sparkling gleam. He sighed, “I think we’re done here.”

• You stepped behind him cautiously, walking him to the door.

“You’re welcome to come back?”

He scoffed out a laugh, grinning at you from over his shoulder, “You’re not getting any of my secrets.”

A smile of your own began to spread.

“I also dabble in conversation.”

_

(part one? or move on to the next character? i dunno if i feel like continuing but want this to be as interactive as possible so tell me what you would like to see!)

[dulcesiabits]

love me like a bruise.

summary: the only way to know what mhin tastes like is through leander.

notes: 1.5k words, author's notes, mildly suggestive content (mhin and reader implied to be sleeping together), jealousy, alcohol consumption (reader might be drunk and making very bad decisions), very complicated relationships (mhin and leander were once a thing, leander taunts you about mhin, mhin has emotional hangups etc)

“They’ve never even kissed you, have they?”

It’s a low, whispered comment from Leander, one you can barely hear over the sound of raucous laughter and jeering voices crowding the Wet Wick. But your hands tighten around your mug, and you hunch over your murky drink, your reflection peering back at you from the depths.

Leander, elbows pressed lightly on the wooden counter, dips his head in sympathy. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“It’s none of your business,” you say thinly, but your denial is an answer of itself, and his smile– his damned slippery smile, as repugnant as a slimy fish pulled from the river– only grows.

“I didn’t even say their name,” he says mildly. 

“Shut up.”

Leander clicks his tongue, raising a hand to press on your shoulder. It’s a gentle, insistent pressure, but it roots you to your seat. “I’m just worried about you. I told you, right? That they’re not someone you can trust.”

“I don’t need you to warn me. I can take care of myself,” you say.

“I know, I know. I just want to look out after you.” 

“I don’t need your concern.”

Leander tilts his head, shadows falling across his face. “If you don’t want me to be concerned, then you shouldn’t come into my bar, looking miserable. Then I wouldn’t worry so much.”

In response, you jerk his hand off your shoulder. Leander lets it fall, watching as you pick up your drink and swallow, one long bitter gulp, before slamming it back down on the table. 

“It’s empty. Refill, please, bartender,” you say pointedly.

“As you wish,” he says, picking it up and disappearing down the corner.

You watch the crush of bodies around you, lovers intoxicated on Leander’s shitty drinks curled around each other like cats, friends throwing down cards and chips on damp tables, all cast in a dim green sheen from the hanging lights.

You’re the only one here alone. Maybe if Ais or Vere or even Kuras were around tonight, you wouldn’t need to drink to feel like you also had someone you belonged to.

There is one person that you particularly want to be by your side, who would chase away all your bitter feelings, but you don’t know if they feel the same. Because, gods, Leander is right. They’re the one person you really want to be by your side, and the one person farthest from reach.

Mhin. Your partner, in more ways than one. Your business partner, of course. The two of you get along particularly well in that regard, scouring the streets of Eridia for information. But it’s also easy to slip into their bed every night, to brush their silver hair across the pillow, to cup their reddening face. But they’re always gone in the morning. They would let you hold them, but never any further than that.

The first time you tried to kiss them, they cupped their hand around your mouth, eyes like flint. “Don’t.” And so you had to make do with biting their neck, teeth sinking sharper than a kiss, running a thumb over the marks which would fade in time. 

You never tried to kiss them again, even though their plump lips and the kissable mole next to the corner of their mouth was irresistible. 

It’s funny, in all honesty. How they spurned you from holding their hand on the streets, flinching away like an alley cat, but they never refused your touch at night. It was a line you weren’t allowed to cross, the message as clear as day: you could desire them, but you couldn’t love them.

And so you’re stuck, in a relationship of push and pull. How far are you allowed to go? What did it mean, to Mhin, for the two of you to be together?

As if summoned by your thoughts, someone slinks through the half open-door like a dream. It’s Mhin. They haven’t seen you yet, so you take a few moments to observe them, the way they dodge effortlessly between stumbling bodies, hood drawn tight over their face.

Cute. They’re cute, and you will never meet a person as beautiful as them again.

A drink clunks down in front of you, heavy with foam. Leander puts his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to face him. He’s still smiling, but there’s an edge to it now. He leans closer, an intimate gesture.

“They’re cute, I know,” he whispers, his breath fogging your ear. “A good kisser, too. I didn’t expect it, the first time we were together.”

Before you know what you’re doing, your hands are grasping his lapels, and you’re yanking him closer to you. What sort of expression are you making? Your eyes are wavering, hazy, and your teeth are bared in a snarl. The alcohol is pounding through your head. “Shut up, Leander.”

You don’t care. You don’t care if Mhin has been with other people. So have you. It’s none of your business. That’s not what your relationship is. Mhin has drawn a firm line. You know where you stand in their life.

“Do you want to know?” Leander whispers. “What they taste like?” His eyes, dark and heavy, hover over your lips.

You kiss him. But it’s not a kiss, because you are all lips and teeth, and Leander is pliant underneath you as you rip his mouth apart, like a waiting prey animal. There’s the taste of cheap ale, and not much else as you devour him. You tug his lower lip between your teeth, biting hard enough to break skin. He gasps as you pull back, blood beading along his lip.

“Wow,” he says wonderingly, drawing one thumb to wipe along his lip, licking at his own blood. “You’re wilder than I expected.”

You’re panting as you wipe your hand across your mouth. Is this anything like what happened when Mhin and Leander kissed? Did they kiss him like this? Or did he kiss them? “Shut up. I’m never doing this again.”

Leander jerks a thumb behind you, and you whirl to see Mhin, with a hardened expression, watching the two of you. They meet your eyes, and duck their head, turning towards the exit. You stumble out of your seat.

“I’ll see you soon,” Leander calls after you, but you ignore him as you slam past complaining patrons and out the door, the cool night air whipping you in the face after the stale warmth of the Wet Wick.

Where is Mhin? What are they thinking? Did they see? How much did they see?

There’s a pale hand wrapping around your wrist, and the alcohol makes your steps clumsy and head fuzzy as someone drags you to a nearby alley, slamming you against the rough brick wall. Mhin. It’s Mhin, and their eyes are as sharp as a blade against your neck.

“What were you thinking?” they hiss.

“What?” you say.

“Kissing him! Kissing Leander!” they say again. They still have a hold on your wrist, and their grip is bruising.

“Why not?” you say. “What does it matter who I kiss? It’s not like we have that sort of relationship, right?”

They reel back as if you’ve slapped them, dropping your hand. You almost miss their touch. You wonder if it’ll leave a mark in the morning, just like a hickey. “Leander is… not someone you can trust,” they say.

“Funny. He said that about you, too. Mhin… why do you care so much?” Now you’re stepping towards them, and they move backwards slowly with each step you take, right until they’re the one backed against the wall. You lean in so close you can see the sweat beading along their cheek, the faint scent of iron and flesh. “Who were you jealous of?”

“What?”

“Who were you more jealous of?” you whisper into their ear, sensing how Mhin tenses beneath you, their heart racing like a trapped animal. “Me, or Leander? I mean, you won’t kiss me, but you’ll kiss him. How am I supposed to understand that?”

They shove you, hard, and you almost trip over your own feet before they grab you hastily, pulling you upright.

“You’re drunk,” they spit out. But there’s something raw in their eyes, fragile. “Go home. You don’t even know what you’re saying right now.”

They’re holding onto your elbow, gently guiding you back to the entrance of the Wet Wick. Why are they holding you like this? It’s so unfair. They should just leave you drunk in the alleyway, not take care of you like they worry over what happens to you. Neither of you speak, and they pull open the door for you.

“Leander will at least help you to your bed,” they mutter to themself, as if you aren’t right there. “So it should be fine as long as he can see you… And you’ll be around people…”

“Mhin,” you whisper, and they glance at you, and down at your lips as your mouth moves. “Will you kiss me?”

They close their eyes, lips pressed tight, as if they’re making a wish. You can’t read their expression anymore as they push you through the door. “Just go home.”

The door shuts behind you like a tomb, and you’re enveloped in the noisy, warm, damp atmosphere of the bar again. You press your thumb against your bottom lip, chasing the lingering taste of your drunken kiss. Maybe if you close your eyes, you can find Mhin’s taste there.

[hxney-lemcn]

The Riddle of Love — Gotham! Edward Nygma x gn! reader

summery: Edward's interest shifts to someone who indulges in his love of riddles.

tw: bullying (?), kristen kringle is a warning all her own in this fic, implied rejection (not really tho, Ed's just awkward).

a/n: I hope so much that I wrote all these characters correctly. I have riddler fever rn and really wanted to write for him, but I've always been scared that I'd write him too ooc. I think I did good tho.

wc: 3.1k

Master List

“What is it that no one wants to have, but no one wants to lose either?” I asked. I already knew it was a lost cause. Edward Nygma was the smartest man I had ever met. Dorky? Yes. Nerdy? Absolutely. Smart? Incredibly. So trying to impress him at his own game wasn’t exactly the smartest move. Yet, the first time I gave him a riddle to solve (which he solved ridiculously fast), I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. So I continued to scour the internet in my free time to try and find obscure riddles. 

Although this riddle wasn’t that obscure. I was running out of riddles to find, and I sure as hell couldn’t make my own. 

“A lawsuit,” Eddie replied without missing a beat, still focusing on testing blood samples. 

I couldn’t stop the pout that formed on my face, “It’s not fair how smart you are.”

I didn’t see Ed’s lips twitch up, how the praise I didn’t think twice about saying impacted him more than he’d like to admit. It was quiet for a few minutes, and I looked back down to the papers I had brought with me. Sometimes, I found myself working in the forensic lab when I could. One of the perks of being a criminal data analyst. I could make my notes on paper, and then just copy them into the computer later. 

Since I was a data analyst, I was in the record archives often. I was acquainted with Kristen Kringle, which obviously led me to Edward Nygma. She would complain about him if I came in after he had left. At that point I didn’t know him, but I also found her complaints unfounded. I’d let her vent, but I’d also speak up for him, which made her glance away in what I assume was guilt. Then there were the unfortunate times that I’d walk in on his awkward flirting. I’d just tensely put away or take the files I needed for my research and leave them to it. 

But after enough times, I’d caught him in the middle of one of his riddles. An easy one, probably to dumb it down for Kringle so she’d be enticed to answer it in the first place. Yet he had caught the attention of the wrong person. Although that didn’t seem to put a damper on his mood. He only sent me a tight lipped smile with a little ‘ding ding ding!’. That’s how I was caught hook line and sinker. His mannerisms were oddly endearing to me, and that’s how our odd little friendship formed. 

I was brought out of my reverie as Eddie shuffled over to his microscope, “I am a nine lettered word and rhyme with perfection; I am another name for love. What am I?”

I blinked, not ready for a riddle, even though I always should be in the presence of him. I looked up from my work, and I noticed how Eddie was sweating, his cheeks flushing a bright red. I tapped the metal table anxiously, the word love had thrown me off my game and my brain felt empty of anything else. I mumbled words under my breath that rhyme with perfection. 

“Deception, reception, perception,” I mumbled, yet none of them fit the rest of the rhyme. The longer I took, the more anxious Eddie seemed to get. “Affection. Oh! The answer is affection!”

Ed cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses, “Y-yes, that is correct. G-good job.” My proud smile fell into a more awkward one, thinking over the implications. That riddle sounded like one he’d save for Kringle. Was he running out of riddles as well? The thought alone was preposterous. It was tense for a bit. And when I realized I had nothing left to do but input the current data I had on some wanna be gang leader. The sad part is I knew that the cops aren’t going to be the first ones who get them. 

Even though I needed to leave, it felt wrong for some reason. To leave the situation after Edward had seemed to admit something in his unique way of sharing. I didn’t want to assume his feelings, yet I knew he also wasn’t one to just state them willingly. Biting my lip anxiously, I decided to just do it. 

Walking over towards Ed’s hunched form, I leaned down to place a light kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see ya later Eddie.” Then I booked it out of the room, leaving behind a very flustered dork. 

It wasn’t much later in the day when Doctor Lee Thompson entered my office. It wasn’t much of an office. The dark walls made the space feel enclosed, and it barely fit my desk and the few cabinets it held. Yet I didn’t mind it since it was a space for myself. Lee, on the other hand, was another acquaintance whose office was nowhere near mine. She’d only come to my office for a few reasons, if it was work related (which was rare since our departments weren’t similar), or if it was personal. Sometimes she fessed that it seemed I needed some company, that it would do me no good to spend all this time alone in my office. Other times…it was on a more personal note, about Eddie and I’s relationship. 

She plopped a candy bar on my desk, a placating move that was all too familiar.

“You must’ve done a real number on Ed,” She smirked, sitting on my desk. Due to the tiny size of the room, and the nature of my job, I didn’t have a seat for guests. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. Deep down, I knew exactly what she meant. I knew Edward was an awkward man, and his experience with flirting was an ultimate zero. Yet it was hard to imagine that he was still affected by a small gesture of affection… Okay maybe the gesture wasn’t that small, for either of us, but still! 

Lee’s smirk widened, “I think you know exactly what. Poor little Ed kept stumbling over his words when I brought you up. Something must’ve happened.”

I unwrapped the candy bar as she spoke, wanting to avoid any thought of the earlier moment. Looking back it was so awkward and a terrible attempt at…what? Flirting? Was that my intention? I didn’t even know my own intentions! 

I took a bite from the candy bar, savoring the sweet flavor before having to explain the painfully awkward memory. When I managed to explain the event, Lee couldn’t stop herself from chuckling, causing me to finish my candy bar with a bitter look. 

“That sounds like something you’d both do,” She smiled.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I huffed, trying to fight off the flush of embarrassment I felt. 

“Nothing,” She sighed wistfully. “But you two really take your time, huh?” 

“Shut up,” I scowled. 

“Okay, okay,” She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop teasing…for now. But seriously, I think you two would be cute together.”

I let out a childish groan, “I get it. Is there anything else you need?” 

“No,” She smiled as she stood up. “Just wanted to see what had Ed all wound up.”

I rolled my eyes, but my heart skipped a beat at the implication. As Lee saw herself out, my mind kept racing. What was Ed doing right now? What was he thinking about? Did he really care enough about my opinion, about my affection, that he was still affected by it? I stared at my computer screen, the cursor blinking mindlessly. Glancing at the time, I scowled as I realized I still had 30 minutes left to my shift. The idea of going home, having a relaxing dinner and then maybe treating myself to a warm bath. 

…

That was only the beginning. It seems that Eddie’s admiration had shifted from Kristin Kringle to me. It was flattering, to say the least. At least to me. Once I gained Ed’s attention, I seemed to have gained his colleagues attention as well. Typically, I didn’t work with the officers, I’d research criminals, then that data would be added to the files. So when I walked past James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, I never thought twice. But when Ed had waved at me, that cute tight lipped smile on his face as I waved back, a smile of my own adorning my face, it drew the attention of the two detectives. 

"Careful Ed,” Harvey mocked. “Don’t wanna scare them off.” Jim only glanced up briefly, not interested in the situation in the least. I watched as Ed’s smile twitched for a second, Harvey’s words seeming to get to him. I felt my smile slip, not liking how they treat him in the slightest.

“He…didn’t do anything wrong,” I shrugged, before waving goodbye, making my way to the record archives. Not only them, but even Kringle was looking at me more than just as a person to vent to. 

“I feel sorry for you,” She stated, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses. Her hazel eyes held their usual air of judgment as she placed some files back in their spots. 

“Why?” I asked, flipping through to find the person I needed. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, raising one of her perfectly maintained eyebrows. “Edward’s got his eyes on another victim.” I frowned, anger bubbling within me at the way she always found new ways to insult him. 

“I wouldn’t describe it like that,” I managed to grit out. “I find the sentiment sweet.”

“Wait,” Kringle paused, turning to look at me with disbelief. “Do you…like him?”

I sighed, finding it hard to focus on the task at hand with this irritating conversation, “Would there be something wrong with that?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird how fast he switched?” She asked, a hint of jealousy in her tone. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he loses interest in you.”

I slammed the cabinet shut in a bout of rage, leaving the room before I do something I may regret…or lose my job over. As I exited, my scowl worsened when I realized I didn’t even get what I needed. 

“Hello!” Edward’s excited voice greeted me as I entered the break room. When my gaze landed on him, I felt my expression soften, my shoulder’s relaxing. His brown eyes were so expressive, that silly smile on his face never failed to melt my heart. 

“Hey,” I muttered back. Looking over the options in the vending machine. Just get something to eat, and hopefully I’ll feel better. 

“Is…something the matter?” He asked, fidgeting with his glasses. I let out a long sigh as I sat across from him at one of the few tables. 

Taking a bite of my snack, I took some time to gather my thoughts and feelings, “Sometimes I just hate people.”

His eyebrows raised, nervously fidgeting with his tie, “Th-that’s…understandable.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, finally cooling down. “Someone was just saying some really mean things and it got to me.”

Edwards’ demeanor changed in an instant, a frown replacing his smile, and his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of concern and anger, “Who?”

I blinked, “What?”

“Who insulted you?” He asked, fists clenched. This wasn’t what I was expecting. He would get annoyed, yeah, but he’d always just stew in it until he calmed down. And he was barely angry when I was around, which was something I was proud of. So seeing him react so harshly was unusual. It made me feel a bit appreciated, that he cared enough to get this angry over it, yet it was also unsettling.

“They…they were insulting you,” I clarified, rubbing my arm awkwardly. “And trust me, I was ready to do some things that would’ve gotten me fired.”

Ed blinked, calming down drastically at the revelation, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “I swear if she says one more damned thing about you I’m gonna…” I strangled the air, the only way I could express how frustrated her insults made me.

Edward fake coughed, his cheeks tinged a light pink, “I assume you mean Miss Kringle.”

I paused, hoping it didn’t hurt that his past interest was still as rude as ever. “I didn’t even manage to get the files I needed,” I grumbled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

“...I can get them for you,” I felt my heart crack. Was he still interested in her? Was that why he was so ready to go into the den of the woman who so readily insults him? 

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” I shook my head. “I’ll just have Lee do it.”

Ed blinked, seeming to think over something before standing up, “I’ll be right back.” Before he was fully out the door he paused, “Whose case files did you need?”

I couldn’t help the tiny grin at how eager he was as I gave him the names of the people I needed files on. Yet that smile fell. Was he really so excited to get a chance to see Kringle that he almost left without knowing what files he needed? I finished my snack, getting a drink from the vending machine while I was at it. My mind continued to make up terrible scenarios that could be happening at that moment. How she could manage to crush Ed’s precious heart even more than she’s already managed to.

Ed was back quicker than I realized. It took him less than ten minutes! He set the files I needed on the table, that tight lipped grin on his face as he waited for my input.

“Oh! Thank you!” I thanked, flipping through the files to make sure they were all there. “She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?”

“No,” He replied simply. As I met his gaze, that’s when I finally realized that he was truly over Kringle. I should’ve felt disturbed at how intense his gaze was, at how strong his emotions seemed to be when he wasn’t even trying. Yet I only felt flattered, important, and wanted. Emotions I wasn’t completely used to, and caused my heart to stutter at how strong my own emotions were becoming. 

Standing up, I leaned in and kissed his cheek again, this time a bit more confident then the last time I did. I waved goodbye as I walked out with the files he gave me. I felt pride swell within me as I watched Eddie become a flustered mess as I left. It was a good mood lifter as I watched him fumble with his usual nervous ticks, before he was finally out of my sight. 

…

Edward’s courting tactics only seemed to grow after that. I wasn’t sure what changed him to do so. I could only speculate that Lee had something to do with it. She kept stopping by my office, asking how Ed and I were doing like she hadn’t just seen us the day before. I can’t lie, I was reveling in the attention that Ed was giving me, and I could tell he’d revel in my attention as well. A mutual pining on both sides. 

Normally, I’d be okay with that. Too scared to try and push things forward. Edward Nygma was different. He was just so…amazing. I’ve never felt so strongly towards someone. He was sweet, attentive, smart, and overall lovely. I couldn’t just settle for pining, I wanted to experience what it would be like as his lover. 

Which led me to this horrendous mess up of a confession.

I dressed up a bit nicer than usual, hoping to impress the cute dork. I felt confident in myself, an emotion I don’t feel regularly. I greeted Lee, who seemed like she guessed the occasion and sent me a wink when I walked past. 

“Hey Eddie,” I greeted, setting a cup of coffee down on the counter.

“Oh! Hello,” He greeted me, smiling. “You seem chipper this morning.”

Nudging the coffee towards him I smiled back, “It’s a good day today. I got you a coffee.”

“You didn’t need to,” Ed replied sheepishly, not used to people giving him things. 

I only shrugged, “I wanted to.” I tapped the counter I was leaning on as nerves started to slowly creep through me. So, before my anxiety could get the best of me, I blurted out, “What is mine but only you can have?”

With furrowed eyebrows, Ed actually paused to answer a riddle for the first time during this little game we had. His eyes flitted around the room, like he was trying to avoid the answer. I know he was smart enough to figure it out, so the fact he was taking so long to answer caused my heart rate to spike from anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I was reading the room wrong. I blame Lee for feeding me a wrong understanding. 

“I…uh…” Ed stuttered over his words, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have said that. He does know the answer, I found it online easily, he obviously knows. He doesn’t feel the same and now he’s trying to find a way to politely reject me. 

“Nevermind!” I exclaimed, trying to quell my nerves by getting the fuck out of here. “Stupid riddle! Never needs an answer. I should get to work.”

“W-wait!” Eddie called out, making me stop in my tracks. So close yet so far. “I can be a fruit, I can be on a calendar, I can be important, and I can be forgotten. What am I?”

Turning back around, I watched as Eddie picked at his nails. We both seemed like complete messes at the moment. It was hard for me to think of anything due to my previous failure of admitting my feelings. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying to stop myself from making any more of a fool of myself.

“I…I’m not sure Eddie,” I chuckled solemnly.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses before admitting, “A date. W-would you accompany me on one?” I stared at him with wide eyes, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Y-yeah! Of course I will!” That tinge of embarrassment was quickly overpowered by exhilaration. The smile that stretched across my face almost hurt with how big it was. Eddie’s smile was also wide as he still couldn’t meet my eyes.

“Is…is tonight okay? Dinner? 7 o’clock?”

“That sounds perfect.” 

And to make the moment better, I kissed his cheek before parting, excited for what the night held for us.

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 21

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: I just want to say, hello to all the new people! So many of you have found this series in the last week. So welcome! Thank you for making me smile like an idiot when my phone goes off when a binge read happens. Literally makes my day. And you've come in at a great time for me in introduce some tension back into the story. I'm not sorry.

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

We had managed to keep my signet development hidden longer than I thought. Xaden had requested I hold off from approaching Professor Carr till some of the tension around Amber’s execution had died off.

In that time I had used any free moment to practice, mainly in the privacy of my room or Garrick’s. But a few times I had practiced in the training room while Garrick, Bodhi and Xaden sparred. Though I had to be careful. One time I had tried to pull one of the weights towards me and instead of a slow gradual pull, I had flung it across the room, narrowly missing Bodhi and Garrick who we’re in the middle of a fight. Both of them had turned to me wide eyed after the weight had skimmed over their heads before imbedding in the stone wall. Xaden on the other hand had burst out laughing even though I’d nearly taken them out our best friends. I had yet to grasp the other part of my ability, coming up short any time I tried to focus on someone. Amber and Jeremiah had been erratic in their emotions. Both knowing death was coming. I had wondered if their calls for help had amplified their presence, allowing me to draw on it. The only other ones I had managed to slightly do it on since were Xaden, Garrick and Bodhi. Which I had put down to how well I knew them. As if my signet already knew exactly where to look, where to seek them out. But even then I couldn’t always do it. I had put the incident in the tower that day down to my heightened emotions. But I couldn’t put it off any longer as I walked into Professor Carr’s classroom for the first time. His room set all of my senses into overdrive. A long chamber with no windows on any of the outwards facing walls. Every wall was padded. Which given the variety of signets we all had and had passed through this room over the years, were probably there for protection. Carr looks up at me instantly, a smile curving at the edge of his mouth that sends a chill down my spine. The way he studies me doesn’t help.

”The other Riorson. Finally ready to join us I see.” He drawls.

I nod and stand up tall. “Sure am.”

His eyes finally meet mine again. “What’s your signet power?” He asks as he slowly walks over to me.

Xaden and I had discussed how to address this topic. We could try pass it off as levitation, but knew that would be no point. The way I could manipulate and control things would soon alert Carr that I possessed another ability. A more powerful ability. The one thing he and I agreed on, as well as Garrick, was that I was not to let on about the projections I was able to do. We just hoped I didn’t get influenced by my emotions and let it loose in the middle of class one day.

I draw in a breath. “My dragon called it Psionic sir.” I tell him.

Carr’s eyes light up instantly at my words. I knew they would. After scouring the records of every rider who had passed through this quadrant, we had not found a single person with this signet, or a name similar. From what we could tell I was the first. Unless it had been redacted. I was something new for Carr to examine, to see what my signet could do. Something I really did not want. But to give myself the best chance at improving my signet, I had to. If I was to help Xaden and this rebellion, I needed all the help I could get. Carr hurries over to his desk and comes back with a scroll, sealed by a wax seal that must be his own. Next to is a marking I know all too well from my time around Melgren. Classified. He hands it out to me. As I grasp it he leans in.

”You must not speak a word of your signet to anyone. Take this downstairs after class with your jacket.” He tells me barely above a whisper before turning back to his desk.

I look down at the scroll in my hand and know all too well what this holds. My uniform is now to bear another patch. A patch I’ve only seen one other person in this quadrant bear. The classified signet patch. A compass. I look up to see the other squads including my own looking at the scroll in my hands with intent. All of them clearly wanting to know what it means. I quickly shove it into a pocket inside my jacket before taking a seat between Rhiannon and Liam. Both of them turning to me instantly.

”Care to explain?” Liam asks as he leans on the desk looking at me.

”Explain that I have my signet? Thought that was obvious by my appearance in the class.” I reply sassily, earning me a roll of his eyes.

”That, but also the fact you didn’t tell us and why he gave you that scroll.” Rhiannon adds as she leans in from the other side.

With Liam and Rhiannon leaning on their desks facing me, I am boxed in completely. No escape while we wait for the class to start.

”It only just happened.” A lie. A blatant lie. And with the way Liam shifts in his seat I know he can tell. He isn’t blind the the training sessions that only Garrick, Bodhi and Xaden have been allowed to since the night Violet and I were attacked. “And even if I wanted to tell you, I can’t now.”

Rhiannon’s eyes drop to my jacket where I had shoved the scroll. I can see the temptation in her eyes to use her signet to draw it to her. “It’s classified isn’t it.”

I merely nod at her as Carr moves from his desk. I might be the first one to posses this signet, but Carr had known my signet was important. As if he had already imagined someone manifesting this. Waiting for it. He probably had a hunch about what else I could do or hoped I could do. I was now playing a dangerous game. Classified signets we’re only told to those who needed to know. Those in command. By the end of the day the leaders of formation would know. Melgren would know. From here on out I was playing a dangerous game.

Walking down the corridors to battle brief I could feel every pair of eyes on me and the new patch on my jacket. As instructed I had taken my scroll to the uniform room, and watched as they had quickly attached the patch to my jacket. And in that time, the first years in third and fourth wing had already spread the news. The quadrant had another classified signet. And everyone knew. As I walked into the battle brief room, everyone went silent. Even Devera and Markham. All eyes on me. Though there were two sets I felt more than the rest as they burned into the patch on my left shoulder. As I meet Xaden and Garrick’s eyes, I could see the worry. No I could feel it. There in my mind I could feel their presence. I could feel the nervousness that now consumed them. Not only did we have other cadets to worry about, we also had leadership. I now had a different and bigger target on my back. A target not even they could protect me from.

A target that had very quickly met its mark. I watched as every single cadet in the room straightened in their chairs or where they stood. Watching as Xaden and Garrick’s eyes went wide. Xaden’s arm raising to push Garrick back as he steps forward. Just like he did on conscription day. I didn’t need to turn to know who stood behind me. I knew their presence all too well. Enough my signet could sense it. A looming black presence, crackling and erratic at its edges. It screamed danger. Screamed to run away from it. It was so fitting for them. But in the five years I had been under their guidance I had never run from it. And didn’t plan to any time soon.

”Sorry to disturb you Devera, but I need to borrow Cadet Riorson here. They’ll be missing your class today.” He drawls. I can hear the smirk in his voice.

Devera stares behind me before nodding. “Of course General.”

I turn around and meet the cold and familiar stare of General Melgren. Part 22

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko

[mikashisus]

dream catcher — genshin smau, xiao x fem!reader x scaramouche

03 — ; discreet

As you scrolled through social media, liking every cat video on your timeline, you failed to notice someone walking towards you.

It was only when they knocked your baseball cap off your head that you looked up, an insult ready on your lips. You picked up your baseball cap and turned to the person, your scowl immediately turning to a smile at the sight of your best friend.

“Xiao!”

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much. Life is so uninteresting without you and Kuni.”

Your complaining made him huff in amusement, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he snaked his arms around your waist. He sighed contentedly into your shoulder, muttering a small “I missed you too” under his breath.

When he pulled away, he took your hat from your hands and placed it back on your head. You sent him a smile and took his suitcase and backpack from him. Slinging his backpack over your shoulder, you began walking towards the entrance.

Xiao grabbed your phone and placed it in your back pocket for you. He grumbled, “I could’ve carried all of that myself.”

“Nonsense,” you shook your head. “How was your flight?”

The flight from Liyue Harbor to Dornman Port was an exceptionally long one. You knew that all too well since you often traveled back and forth between the two places. Your home in Dornman Port was farther up North in Mondstadt, which was quite the inconvenience when it came to traveling to Liyue Harbor or Sumeru City.

However, you liked the peace and quiet the port. Although it was bustling with people, it was much quieter than the main city on the lake. You’d take it over living in the city any day.

Xiao shrugged, sending a quick text to Zhongli that he arrived in Mondstadt safely. “It was okay. A lot of screaming babies.”

Your face scrunched up in disgust as the two of you exited the airport. “Damn, that sucks. Lucky it wasn’t longer than seven hours, though. You would’ve had to deal with them for longer.”

He groaned at the mere thought. He walked ahead of you, scouring the lanes for the car you’ve had since high school. He found it instantly, making a beeline for it.

You jogged ahead to catch up with him. He was one step ahead of your own thought process, as he opened the trunk for you to haul his things into. You did so effortlessly and climbed into your car.

As he buckled his seatbelt, you handed him your phone. He unlocked it (having known your password) and pulled up one of your rock playlists.

“Well, nothing’s changed with us, huh?” You sent him a smile.

He glanced at you. “What do you mean?”

“In our twenties and you’re still my passenger princess.” You smirked as he scoffed and turned away from you.

“Whatever.”

You shrugged and pulled out of the lanes. “What? I’m just stating the facts. You were always my passenger princess in high school too.”

Even now, you could remember how the two of you would always sneak away from your school’s band and go off on your own. Sure, it worried your band directors to see the two of you had gone missing during the trips, but they eventually got used to it.

You would show Xiao around Mondstadt, and he would show you around Liyue whenever your school’s band made the trip to Liyue Harbor. The two of you would spend nights wandering the streets, talking about anything and everything, and buying snacks or walking around inside shops.

You still had the jade elephant keychain he bought you during your senior year— the one you couldn’t afford because your family wasn’t doing so well financially. With his father’s money, he bought it for you, and you promised you’d always keep it with you. Now, it hung from your car keys.

Your favorite memory was when you were in Liyue Harbor during Lantern Rite. Both you and Xiao snuck off again, this time to the outskirts of the harbor. He showed you his handcrafted lantern he made, a proud glint in his eyes as you praised his handiwork.

When the fireworks went off, signaling the new year, you released the lantern into the sky together, and unexpectedly, Xiao kissed you. None of you dared to bring that up afterwards, but you could still remember how soft his lips were, and how gentle his hold was on your chin. And the way his golden eyes sparkled, holding a certain fondness for you and you only.

You took a quick glance at him, admiring him for a quick second as you stopped at a stoplight. Even though he was turned away from you, trying hard not to let you see his face, you could see a small, fond smile on his lips.

He made a hum of disagreement, but you could tell that those memories of the two of you from high school were as important to him as they were for you.

author’s note: xiao being quite obvious with his crush was not intended but it’s a detail i like. hes trying his best to be discreet but failing miserably. also we love xiao being a passenger princess 🫶

taglist — ; (open) @kunikuzushis-darling @one-and-only-tay @ukinya @mechanicalbeat1

divider: cafekitsune

masterlist | prev | next

[dani-sdiary]

Anyone Else?

I am 18 years old and I just found out I am intersex.

I started puberty at an earlier age than average. I had severe acne, oily skin, and hirsutism in second grade. I remember my dad telling me to wash my face because I was getting "a type of pimple called a blackhead" (he had to explain to me what it was, I had never heard of them) when he dropped me off at before-school daycare at 7 years old. When I told my mom I had hair under my arms that same year, she flat-out refused to believe me. She simply said I did not, that it was impossible.

I started shaving my legs in third grade, after begging my parents to let me for a year. My mom said I should only have to shave every other day, and again denied the truth when I told her that wasn't enough. Once I started shaving my legs, I noticed the hair everywhere else: my back, my chest, my face, all over.

I googled my symptoms over and over, scouring the internet for a documented experience of any other woman who was like me. I questioned my gender identity over the years. I had wondered if it was possible for me to be intersex, but I had a very limited view of what that could mean, and I assumed if I was, it would be very physically, externally, obvious. At that time, I didn't think it was possible for my doctors, my parents, and everyone else in my life to miss something so important.

For about a year, I identified as non-binary and used they/them pronouns. I think that part of this came from a place of being young and exploring my identity, but it also came from deep insecurity. I didn't feel like being a girl was an option for me because of the way I looked, so I thought it would ease my pain to pretend I wasn't a girl. I want to make it abundantly clear that I am in no way saying questioning one's gender identity is only about being insecure. That was my personal experience, and I am in the minority. I am the exception to the vast majority of experiences.

I bought plain, solid-color, clothes 3 sizes too big and wore pants and long sleeves all summer to swallow me up. I always wore my hair down and I always had bangs to cover as much of my face as possible. I wanted to make it impossible to see my face at all, and, between bangs, glasses, makeup, and a mask, I was fairly close.

By the time I was 12, I had developed a four-hour daily routine for removing all my hair. After a year of seeing my therapist, I finally broke down and told her about my hirsutism via pen and paper and through tears. I was so, so ashamed that I couldn't even say the word "hair" out loud. She immediately told me I might have PCOS, something I had never heard of, and it turns out she was right.

It was only recently, six years after my PCOS diagnosis, that I found out there was any discussion at all about PCOS being considered an intersex condition. I am ashamed to say my first reaction was one of more fear and insecurity. I have been chasing womanhood all my life, and this felt like yet another barrier to it. Even if I didn't identify as intersex after reading about this, it's taught me I have quite a bit of unlearning to work on.

I am in no way qualified to declare PCOS to be an intersex condition, and I am not telling other people with PCOS that they have to be intersex, but I now identify as intersex. I love that PCOS awareness is a trending hastag on tiktok, but there is still so much more research that needs to be done, especially into this particular area. I read peer-reviewed journals from scientists and blog posts about individuals' real experiences and I found a term that feels like home for me, that fell in line with the way I had always felt about myself. I will still use she/her pronouns, because they also feel right for me.

When I experience things like this, I don't know what else to do but write about them. I hope we learn more about this, and I hope I can talk to someone who has also had this experience. Thank you.

[d-dixonimagines]

can u do enemy to lover prompt five

Prompt: "Don't touch me!" "How am I supposed to bandage you up if I can't touch you?"

I don't know what to really label this as. It's mild angst? If you wanna call it that? Reader is more moody than I originally anticipated them to be. Also, I clearly don't know how to clean wounds or how they would do it in the show, so the way it's described here is probably wrong.

Right from the very start of the day you and Daryl had been at each other's throats, bickering and yelling like you'd been married for 50 years. So it was beyond you why Rick thought it was a good idea to make you two go on a run together. Surely he knew there would be a chance that only one of you came back, and not because of any walker. The run wasn't supposed to be that big a deal. A quick day trip scouring for supplies and literally anything that would be of use and that you could carry. Everything had gone surprisingly well until you were making your way back. There was a run-in with a small hoard of walkers that happened to wander through where you were at; too many of them for just two people to deal with. You both made your way towards an abandoned house, killing off as many of the walkers as you could, focusing only on the ones that were a higher risk. If you had tried to pock off every single one, it would become too easy to get overwhelmed and ambushed as they all crowded together. So your only goal was to retreat to safety.

"Over here!" You heard Daryl's voice over the commotion of the moaning walkers. Yanking your knife from one of their skulls, you turned in Daryl's direction and made your way over. You both were almost at the house, eyeing it just beyond the tree line. There were scattered walkers wandering the property, making it difficult to make a direct run for it. "We should just keep moving. See if there's another place further down." You suggested, not seeing any other option. Daryl just shook his head. "Nah... we don't know how far the next place could be. This could be our only option. We jus' need'a plan." "We don't have time for a plan," you rolled your eyes, using every will power you had to not raise your voice and draw more attention. "I can see that, that's why we ain't gonna waste our time lookin' for somethin' else." Daryl growled back. "There's gotta be about seven or eight up there.. if we clear 'em out, go 'round either side of the house, there's bound to be a way inside." Glancing behind you to see the other walkers closing in, you let out a frustrated groan, getting yourself ready to run. "Gah!" If we make it out of this, Dixon, I'm gonna kill you myself!" You yelled, running off towards the house before he had a chance to sass you back. Clearing out your half of the yard, you quickly checked the front door to see if it would open but had no such luck. You continued round to the side of the house, killing off any stragglers. Finding a window above a pile of old wood, you attempted to climb up it to get a better grip of the window. When it didn't budge, you went to smash it but was interrupted when you felt hands grabbing at you, knocking you unstable. You let out a startled yelp as you struggled to keep the walker at bay, fighting to hold it back so you could reach for your weapon. It was just out of your reach, you could feel the tips of your fingers grazing it, scrambling to get some kind of traction to get a better grip. Daryl rounded the corner, stabbing the thing in the head and throwing it off you. "Finally you show up," you snapped at him, standing up quickly and grabbing your gun. "That's a funny way of sayin' thank you fer savin' yer ass." You just scoffed, holding your arm, not having any time to check the damage. "Did you find a way in?" "'Course I did, Princess. This ain't my first rodeo." You ignored his comments and followed him to the back door, barricading yourselves inside. After checking the rest of the house, you allowed yourself to relax just a bit once you knew it was cleared. Daryl set his things down on top of the counter and looked around the kitchen, checking to see if there was anything edible to eat. You wandered off in search of a mirror to tend to your arm. Raiding through the medicine cabinets and drawers, you didn't find much that would help. Just a tolerably clean cloth and some gauze. You started cleaning around it, as best you could, wadding up the cloth, dropping it, getting frustrated with... just... everything.

"Need help?" Daryl's voice brought you out of your head. You only looked at him for a second, getting a glimpse of him leaning against the doorframe before looking at your arm again. "I got it." He scoffed. "An infection is what yer gonna get if ya don't clean it right." "It'll have to do until we get back, won't it? I don't exactly have a lot of options here." "Water might help at least." "You see any water lying around?" "Yup..." Daryl stated simply, holding up a half filled jug. You kept your gaze on him, your eyes narrowing at him in irritation. Snatching the jug from his hand, you set it down harshly on the sink. You struggled with getting the cloth wet, not really able to use your injured arm. "Let me help." He pushed himself from the door frame. "I said I got it." Daryl didn't accept that answer, knowing you were just being stubborn. He reached over and grabbed the cloth from you, getting it damp before raising it as a silent request to keep going. Without saying anything, you contemplated for a long moment before slightly turning your body so he could get at it better. "This'll sting a bit," Daryl spoke gently, taking the water and pouring it over the wound, causing you to let out a hiss and jerk your arm back. "That hurts!" "I told ya! Ya can't get mad at me after I warned ya." You just huffed, turning back so he could continue cleaning the wound. After setting the rag down, he grabbed the gauze and gently gripped your arm, but before he could place it, you jerked out of his hold again. "Don't touch me!" Daryl let out a breathy sigh of frustration. "How am I supposed ta bandage ya up if I can't touch ya?" You stared daggers into him but he just stared back. The longer you stared at him, the more realization set in that being angry wasn't going to help anything. You weren't even really angry, you were just frustrated and overwhelmed. Daryl was only trying to help and you needed to calm down. Going back to where you were, you turned your body so he could fix you up, letting him do what he needed to. He placed the gauze on your arm and wrapped it as neatly as he could, tucking the end piece in to the rest of the material. "There... now ya have a better chance of yer arm not rotting off." There was a faint hint of smirk at the corner of his lips that you would have missed if you weren't looking at them.

You glanced down at your arm as you pushed off the sink. "My hero," you responded sarcastically. There was a beat before you looked up at him again. "Thanks..." There was another pause as you examined his face, that playful smirk vanished. "I mean it. Thank you," Your voice was softer, more relaxed. Daryl gave a soft nod before leaving the bathroom and heading towards the kitchen. "I'm starvin', I think I saw an opossum on the back porch." The moment was gone. You let out a loud groan as you followed behind him, revving up to give him an earful!

[femslashfeb]

HELLO ALL

TLDR

No reblogging from the blog this year - posting prompts tomorrow the 31st

For the past few years I've very much struggled with reblogging everyone's activity in the tag. So this year I will not be doing so.

(OR maybe I will? I just don't want to commit)

Even if I knew how to make a bot that reblogs - a lot of people still use the unique tag to tag outside challenges. So I've always had to hand submit. However it became too stressful for me and for the past few years I ended up avoiding it until later weeks or even months.

If you noticed I didn't finish reblogging last year so- I've just given up on that.

Honestly I've struggled a lot with depression for the last 7 years or so. It's been harder and harder to find my way back to tumblr. It doesn't help that my phone can barely handle the amount of apps it already has.

My main account @puff-pink hardly ever updates because of my big sad. And I don't know if I'll ever get back on the horse in the same way I did before.

Some of you know me as an artist, and tho I still churn out subpar art for my day-job I've struggled a lot to make art for myself during my depression. Partially because one year I overworked my hand - and still deal in continual wrist aches. Even the weeks I don't pick up a drawing tool.

I intended this challenge for myself and maybe the small fandoms I was in at the time. But it took off among writers and creators of all types across all fandoms.

One year I even tried to tally the most popular fandoms but there were honestly too many to keep track of- and I stopped after the first three pages of submissions.

I don't claim to have invented the concept of FemSlash February. Before I started the prompts I swear I had heard the phrase somewhere. Tho not sure where. Perhaps it had been amongst my friends on Skype. Back when I had online friends and Skype(I'm still not sold on Discord🤷‍♀️).

However that January I thought it would be fun to partake in a challenge of some kind. But scouring tumblr and the general internet. I could only find half hearted efforts on fanfiction sites from years past.

I'm so proud of all my Sapphic creators on here that have partaken every year. Even if I've never shown favoritism or awarded anyone. I do notice those that actually complete the challenge AND those that keep coming back each year(looking at you H20 writer(I don't remember your username but there's a mermaid writer that's a writing machine)). I truly am proud of you especially in my shriveled state of creativity. Thank you for your efforts. For your hype. And for your love of women of all kinds across all the universes.

Each year I'm surprised to find even more categories I never thought to include. From mood boards, to doll photography, to ofc the classic art and writing. May your pencils forever be in union with your sister mediums.

On that note. There is a strict NO AI GENERATED ART or writing this year.

Not that I could physically stop anyone who does use AI. But I do not want that sort of thing associated with this challenge. It's become scarily good in 2023 to the point it can't always be identified. So I simply ask for the honor system when it comes to AI generated creations.

That being said. If you've made it to the end of this post:

Prompts will be posted tomorrow.

I usually prefer to give yall more of a buffer, but I've been busy. Both with Big Sad, rescuing some feral cats, my own life, errands, chores and work.

If you're still here- here is a preview of the first three days.

FEB 1 - black

FEB 2 - spring

FEB 3 - cake

The 14th as usual will be some sort of Valentine romance type theme(haven't decided specifically yet) and as always there will be a Rest Day.

Expect some repeat prompts. In the past I tried to avoid them but idc anymore.

It's also a Leap Year this year so expect one extra prompt to throw off the symmetry of what's normally 28 days.

Thanks for coming back this year. And thank you to those that still check on this blog.

❤️🧡🤍💜🩷

Keep loving girls

-PuffPink

[heartinportuairk]

I went to the final performance of Macbeth last night and I wanted to make some notes for myself so I would remember some things. I only use this account for lurking but I am making this public in case anyone scouring the David Tennant / Macbeth tags is interested in my musings for some reason.

I had been lucky enough to have seen this production three times already before last night - twice in December and once in January - so I have been able to track its journey and pick out what changes night on night and what doesn't. I have found that fascinating. Any changes were minor and pretty much exclusively found in simply the way a line was spoken. For example, the brilliant Noof Oussellam (Macduff)'s "but I must also feel it as a man" was impassioned and angry the first and last times, but the two times inbetween I found it to be more subtle. More sadness, more despair than anger. I guess it comes down to how the actor is feeling it in that point in time and I think it shows a great understanding of the character that they play them in the moment and don't just mimic themselves night after night.

The other great thing about going multiple times is viewing it from different angles. I saw it from all sides, twice from the stalls and twice from the front row of the circle. Honestly, circle was better, especially for Macbeth's death in the closing moments. You do not get the effect of the blood seeping out from under him from the stalls and I tell you now, that image from above sears itself onto your brain.

All of the actors are incredible and have been from the start, but there were a few times last night where I could feel them step up their game. Like they knew it was the last time they were going to say that line (at least for a while) so they were going to give it their all.

One of those times was Macbeth's "tomorrow and tomorrow" soliloquy which had always been brilliant and very moving, but about which something was a little different last night. The quiet, raw emotion in that speech felt as though it had been ramped up (or down??) a notch and was so palpable that it brought a tear to my eye.

Another moment came from Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking scene. Again, always brilliant and always moving but somehow desperately sadder this time around. I wanted to give that murderous, conniving fiend a big hug.

The Porter:

The porter scene is funny but obviously not as much when you know what's coming. Which is why when somebody in the audience yelled out "who's there?" right before he got a chance to say his "ok seriously do none of you understand the concept of a knock-knock joke?" line last night, it was both a shame and a blessing. I felt a bit bad for the guy!

"Alright, you've seen the show before! That was my favourite-... and it's the final show!"

But what followed was a hilarious bit of improvisation and it changed things up a bit, especially as Laura the sound engineer proceeded to make his job even harder with the timing of the sound effects that followed. It meant I was able to enjoy the porter scene as much as I did the first time, but like I said, I did feel a bit bad that his favourite line got taken away from him! (It wasn't me who called out, by the way.)

David bloody Tennant:

I've not seen much Shakespeare live (I want to remedy that, I have become completely obsessed), but I can believe people when they say David Tennant is arguably the greatest Shakespearean actor of his time. You can tell he feels and understands completely the meaning behind the words he is saying. He's not just reciting, not just reeling it off. The pauses, the intonations, the passion, sadness, grief, guilt behind every line just shows his deep understanding of the character and his innermost thoughts. On that stage, he is Macbeth.

What's more is you can tell he absolutely delights in it. Anybody who knows anything about DT knows he loves Shakespeare and it is glaringly evident when he is out on stage. He puts everything he has into it and it is wonderful to witness.

He is truly an amazing actor and a treasure and I have been so delighted to watch his career somehow continue to hit new highs of late. Everything he touches seems to turn to gold. As many have said before me, this really is David Tennant's world and the rest of us are just living in it.

The bows:

The reception this group of actors received at the end of the performance was phenomenal and no more than they deserved. Everybody on their feet, whooping, cheering. A lot of noise coming from such a small audience. The cast were both playful and tearful. To see some of the actors get a bit emotional was very touching and I hope that was, at least in part, due to the love and admiration pouring out of us and on to that stage.

An aside:

So I turn up to the theatre and head straight for the toilets on the first floor. There is one person waiting outside them because it's full inside so I wait too. Within moments, out pops DT from a set of double doors right in front of me. He quickly checks if there's anyone in the other set of toilets (there is) and disappears back through the doors again. It's fleeting, and the only other person in the queue is facing the other way and doesn't see. I keep quiet, obviously. It's just over half an hour until the performance is due to start. He's not in costume yet and the man just wants to go to the bathroom. My point is, I've now watched him live on stage in a very small theatre for approximately 7 and a half hours and at no point in that time have I actually concluded that he is real, except in those brief four or five seconds outside the toilets of the Donmar Warehouse in Covent Garden, when we're just two people who needed a wee.

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

With you, everything's okay (USWNT x ADHD Reader)

This is part 3 of the ADHD reader series. It's kinda long, but hope you enjoy!

Part one

Part two

Words: 4.6K

Due to the Adderall shortage I didn't have much of my medication, which was not great. I was supposed to get a refill a couple of days ago, but I wasn't able to yet. It could be a few days, weeks or months until I got more. Given what's been on the news, it was something I had anticipated so I had a few days worth for when I really needed it. I had a doctors appointment next week to try figure out a different medication, but I was almost tempted to just not do it. When I first got medication for my ADHD it was a long process of dose adjustments, and dealing with side effects. It was mentally and physically draining. It was something I didn't really want to go through again. The headaches and sleepless nights when I didn't take it were bad enough. Though I didn't know how I would cope long term without it. 

We had just started another month long camp which made this whole thing just a bit more difficult. Ally wasn't with me and I wasn't sure if or when she would be able to visit. For now I was trying to distract myself. I had spent hours so far scouring the internet and going from jeweler to jeweler with Ali trying to find the perfect ring for Ally. None of them were good enough or matched who Ally was. She didn't like fancy rings with big stones or really any stones. She preferred more plain, flush bands with maybe a tiny stone. Ally deserved more than a plain band though. I just had to find the perfect one. 

For the third or maybe fourth time I had dragged Ali out shopping with me. It had probably been hours and I still hadn't found anything that was right. I was starting to get frustrated when Ali literally dragged me away from the mall to the park across the road. 

"You need to take a break."

"But-"

"No, you're getting frustrated and irritable so we're taking a break."

My eyes started to water as I hid my face in my hands, "I just want to find the ring she deserves Ali."

Ali sat down beside me, pulling me into her side, "I know and we will. It'll just take some time, it's only been a few weeks since you got engaged. Have you looked into custom design rings?"

I had gotten Ally a cheap ring in the mean time, but I hated that she had to wait for a proper one. "I didn't even think of that."

We went back to the hotel after getting lunch. Since Ali mentioned it, I was itching to look into designer rings. I had briefly on my phone, but Ali quickly stopped me so I would actually eat. It was a free day so I locked myself in my room quickly going down the rabbit hole of custom rings. I spent hours comparing different companies and small businesses, calling or emailing them to figure out more around pricing and what type of designs they could do. I ended up finding a small business that could get it done in about 2-3 weeks once the design was decided on. 

The design was the next thing I got lost in. I wanted to get it done as soon as possible so Ally could finally get the ring to go with the proposal. There were a couple of ideas that I was playing around with, but it was hard to choose just one. I don't know how long it had been when my phone rang breaking me out of my fixation. Of course it was a facetime from Ally, her ringtone always brought me back to reality. 

Hey baby

Hi

What's got you so distracted that you didn't even look at me? I miss my beautiful smile

I laughed, quickly glancing at her, involuntary smile stretching across my face,Nothing, sorry

Right, I'll pretend I believe you. Did you eat?

It's not dinner yet

Baby, it's 9pm where you are.

No it's no- Oh shit, I got distracted

Ally giggled, the sound making my heart skip a beat. I wished she was here. I figured, Ali is going to bring you something since I know you won't leave whatever it is you're doing.

Thank you Al. Can I ask you something?

Anything

If you had to pick one thing from our relationship, date, holiday, whatever really, what's your favourite thing?

That's a hard one. Do you remember our snowboarding trip?

Our first trip together was a snow boarding trip. We hadn't been together very long and we ended up getting snowed in with no power for 2 nights. All we could do was read, cuddle, play board games, talk and try to keep the fire going. Ally and I had connected from the start, but that trip was a sort of turning point in our relationship. We got to know each other on a deeper level, telling each other all the intimate and deep parts of ourselves. That was when I told her about my adhd, my family, how they acted and how I felt growing up. 

It was the first time I ever cried in front of her. There had been a sense of shame wash over me. I wasn't one to cry in front of people, it had been ingrained in me since I was young. Ally had just held me tightly, whispering reassurances then making me laugh harder then I had in a long time. She had never judged me about anything. Sure, occasionally she would tell me I was being stupid, but she always had my back.

Where's that head of yours baby?

Sorry, I was just thinking back to that trip. It was a disaster, but I loved that trip.

Me too. I think that's my favourite

There was a knock on the door before I could reply. My stomach growled when I saw the food Ali was holding. I hadn't realised how hungry I actually was. In all honesty, I probably wouldn't have eaten if Ali hadn't shown up with food,  "Thank you Ali."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad someone could get through to you. We've all been texting and calling you, even knocked on the door. We figured you were asleep or completely zoned out."

"You got Ally to call me?"

"She was already going to. I just asked if she had heard from you. I didn't want to wake you up if you were asleep, I know the last couple of days have been hard."

"I appreciate that. I got stuck into that thing we were talking about. I'll show you later."

Ally and I continued to talk while I kept working on the design and she started to fall asleep. I stayed on the phone with her even after she fell asleep. We had always slept on facetime together when we were apart. It made us feel closer when we couldn't be. 

By time 4am rolled around I had finally finished the design idea. I had done a rough sketch, but also described my idea so the person could adjust if needed to what they could do. My design idea was mountains that wrapped around the entire band. A textured sky to resemble a snowy day with a small set diamond to look like the moon and hopefully someway to make the mountains look like it was covered in snow. I didn't know if it was completely possible, but even something remotely like that would be okay. I quickly sent it off before I could overthink and change my mind. I was very glad that we had another day off tomorrow. 

---

"Ally!" I ran, jumping in her arms and hugging her tightly. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I would surprise you again."

"Not that I don't love that you're here, but aren't you busy at work?"

"I am, but I can work remotely now."

"You can? Wait, you got the promotion?" Ally nodded, huge smile on her face as I picked her up and spun her around, kissing her hard. "Oh my god, this is amazing. You are amazing. I am so fucking proud of you Ally."

The girls wandered into the lobby, greeting Ally with quick hugs, "Guys! Ally got the promotion!"

Some of the girls practically jumped on Ally telling her how proud they were. They had even dragged her out for dinner that night saying that we had to celebrate her achievement. Some even going as far as doing speeches. I loved how much they adored Ally, how they had welcomed her into the team without hesitation. 

We were lying in bed that night, wrapped up in each other. I brushed a piece of hair out of her face before kissing her softly, "I really am so proud of you Ally. You're amazing. You've worked so hard for this, you deserve this."

"Thank you Y/n. I couldn't have done it without your love and constant support even if my job bores you."

"Yeah well, for you I will go through all the boring shit in life a million times over." I kissed her softly before sighing, "I'm sorry Al."

Ally's forehead creased as her eyebrows drew together, "What are you apologising for?"

"I'm sorry that it's been weeks since I proposed and I haven't gotten you a proper ring yet. You deserve the perfect ring and I'm sorry you don't have it yet."

She smiled softly, cupping my cheek and making me look at her, "Do you remember what I said when you asked me to marry you?" I shook my head. All I remembered was her saying yes and being very excited. "I told you that I don't care about a ring and I meant it. If this was the only ring you got me, I wouldn't care. All I care about is being with you okay?"

"I love you Ally so fucking much. I just- Your ring is on the way, I just don't know when it'll get here."

"It's okay, I already know I'll love it."

---

Arms wrapped around me from behind, kisses being placed along my jaw. I turned my head, connecting our lips in a long kiss as I pulled her round to my lap. Ally squealed against my lips, giving me the opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth. A breathy moan slipped from Ally as our tongues met. After a couple of seconds, Ally's fingers dug into my shirt as she pushed me away, "We're in the meal room."

"That can be changed besides no one else is here."

"I have a meeting in half an hour so stop being a horndog and show me what had you so focused."

"You can't blame me, you know what your work clothes do to me." 

I had been looking at different wedding themes on Pinterest, but I was struggling to find ones that might actually suit Ally and I. We were very simple people, we didn't need anything fancy to be happy. We weren't traditional either. It was something we used to make jokes about, how we would go the complete opposite way, have some random colour instead of white, casual clothes and a barbeque. Just one big party. I didn't know what we were actually going to do. When we talked about it, it was just an idea, far off in the future. Now it was a reality and I was so excited to marry Ally. I knew we actually had to talk about when we wanted to do it, but I couldn't wait to marry her. 

I turned my computer so Ally could see, "Anyway, I'm looking at wedding ideas. We should talk about when we want to do it, soon, sooner, soonish, far away, somewhere in the middle. I mean, I'm really fucking excited to marry you, but if you wan-"

"Okay baby, take a breath. You just named three times that are pretty much the same and aren't actually times."

"Sorry, I'm just excited. You know I never thought I would want to get married, let alone be this excited about it."

Ally wrapped her arms around me, kissing my temple, "I know Y/n/n. Don't apologise for being excited, I never meant to make it sound like a bad thing. Trust me, I can't wait to marry you and I love that you are excited to marry me, I would be kind of mad if you weren't."

I giggled, nuzzling my nose against her neck, "So what do you think?"

"Well, I think the sooner the better."

"Exactly what I was thinking. The more I look, the more I'm convinced on a court house wedding. It's such a process."

"A court house wedding would be a lot easier."

"No! you can't have a court house wedding," Kelley yelled making us jump and me glare at her. 

---

Today was the worst day yet without my meds. I was exhausted, my head hurt, I was irritable beyond belief, every little sound or touch felt a hundred times worse and I couldn't focus on anything. There had been a very small handful of times in our relationship that I couldn't handle Ally's touch, this was one of those times. It always made me feel like shit, guilty that my own girlfriend couldn't even touch me. That didn't help me feel any better. Ally was always so understanding about it all, reassuring me that it was okay and dealing with my over touching afterwards to make up for it. Today was no different, Ally had been amazing, giving me space, reassuring me.

Ally had brought me lunch so I wouldn't have to be around the team. We were sitting on the floor in silence after eating. Normally, just being near Ally would help but everything was starting to get too overwhelming. I felt like I was about to explode, like any second I would break. And I did. I didn't mean for it to happen, things just boiled over. Ally suggested we go for a walk, she knew it would help, so did I but I couldn't bring myself to leave the room. I ended up snapping at her.

"Come on Y/n/n, you know it'll help."

"Just give it a rest! I don't need you pestering me, I'm not a child, I'm an adult, I can handle this myself. Just back off."

Ally just looked at me for a second before getting up and walking out. I buried my hands in my hair, pulling slightly. Maybe it wasn't the most healthy thing, but it helped ground me. Well normally it would. It helped enough to snap me out of it and realised I fucked up, "Fuck."

Tears fell before I could stop them as I curled up in a ball and cried. I had never snapped at Ally like that before. Sure we had fights occasionally, but there was never yelling. I cried and sobbed, letting everything from the last week or so out. Being off my meds was exhausting, physically but mostly mentally. My mind was almost constantly a mess. It took me back to how I felt growing up. Like I was annoying, a burden, stupid. That the people around me only put up with me because they had to. Ally included. 

Once the tears finally stopped, I just lay there staring at the celling. It's like I was stuck there, I knew I had to go find Ally, but I couldn't move. The door opened then I felt someone sit down next to me. I knew it wasn't Ally, she always wore a perfume that I would recoganise instantly. 

"What's going on Y/n/n?" Christens soft voice filled the silence.

"It's too much. I-I don't know if I can handle this. I'm just a burden to everyone around me. I fucked up, Ally hates me. It's just too much Chris."

"Y/n Y/l/n you are not a burden. I know things are hard without your medication, but that does not mean you are a burden. We love you, we are here for you okay? I know it's hard, I know it feels overwhelming, but we've got you. We've always got you Y/n. Ally could never hate you, she loves you. Did something happen with her?"

"I fucked up. I snapped at her when she was just trying to help. I've never done anything like that before. I fucked up Chris," My voice cracked, tears somehow welling up again. 

Christen pulled me into her. I didn't fight it, instead gripping her shirt tightly as sobbed wracked through me again. She rubbed my back, whispering quiet reassurances. Eventually Christen moved, being replaced by someone else who held me tight, hand slipping under my shirt and drawing patterns along my skin. Perfume overtook my senses, that sweet perfume I knew so well. I sobbed harder, gripping her shirt as if my life depended on it. In a way it did. I couldn't imagine my life without Ally in it. She understood me in a way no one else did, she knew how to calm me down, how to support me, how to make me laugh. Most importantly she loved me despite my flaws. 

"I'm sorry Ally, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, I'm so-"

"Shhh, it's okay, I've got you baby, I've got you."

It took a while, but eventually the tears stopped. I sat up, moving away from Ally to sit against the bed. I felt myself go numb. Over the years, it had become my way to protect my self when things, especially emotions got too much. It hadn't happened in a while. Things were never too much when Ally was around, it was manageable. Right now I didn't know where we stood and I was scared.  

I felt two warm hands cup my cheeks and soft lips press against my forehead, "Don't do that. Don't blank out on me. Come back to me."

"W-what are you doing here?"

"Chris texted, she was worried about you, said you needed me."

"You came even after I said what I did."

Ally laced her fingers with mine, "Of course I did. While I didn't appreciate what happened, I know you didn't mean it. Besides, you needed me. I will always be there for you when you need me."

"I'm sorry for snapping at you, I was just so overwhelmed. I don't know if I can do this Al. It's just so much."

She pulled me up, wrapping me tightly in her arms then guiding me so we were cuddled in bed, "I know it's hard baby, I know it's frustrating, but we've got this. I'm right here by your side every step of the way, I'm not going anywhere."

"We're okay?"

"We're okay baby. You owe me a massage though, when you're feeling better to make up for this."

I chuckled, cuddling into her side, my eyes getting heavy, "Deal. I love you Al."

"I love you Y/n. Try and get some sleep. I'm finished work for the day. Chris is going to bring dinner for us a bit later."

---

The ring had just arrived at the hotel and I was scared to open it. I ran straight up to Ali, pulling her away much to the confusion of Ally and everyone else. I shoved the package at her, making her stumble back a bit.

"Calm down a bit Y/n/n. What is it?"

"The ring. Can you open it? I'm kinda scared."

Ali carefully opened the package then the box. I was way more nervous than I expected to be. I had spent so long trying to find the perfect ring, I guess I was worried this wouldn't be it, that it wasn't anything close to what I was hoping for.

"This is beautiful Y/n. It's perfect."

I slowly took the box from Ali, freezing when I saw it. It was exactly what I had envisioned. Seeing the ring felt like a weight had been lifted. After spending so much time searching, I finally had the ring Ally deserved. Thoughts of her not liking it tried to creep in, but I managed to push them away. I knew Ally would like it. "It's exactly what I wanted. It came out way better than I expected."

"So are you just going to give it to her? Or do another proposal?"

"I'm not sure. I was kind of thinking about proposing again just for the fun of it. The original proposal wasn't that special."

"I think you'll find to Ally it was. Even if it wasn't extravagant, it was just the two of you. Personal and intimate." 

"Probably. Let's be honest, I just want to spoil her. Can you hold onto this for me? I'm terrified of losing it."

Ali wrapped her arm around me, trying not to laugh, "Of course I will. Let me know if you need help planning it. Let's get back before they start to question it."

Ally was going to say yes. Knowing that let the excitement bubble up instead of the nerves. I was incredibly excited to propose to her, the plan was already coming together in my mind. I didn't want to wait, all going well it was going to happen tonight. 

Once we got back, I beelined to Ally, "I have two questions. First, will you go on a date with me tonight? Second, do you want to go make out?"

"Yes and definitely yes."

---

Since we started dating, picnics were a big part of our relationship. We both had jobs that meant we dealt with a lot of people. Picnics were the way we escaped reality and people without being inside or around our flat mates at the time. I figured there was no better place to propose then on a picnic. 

Because our date was last minute and we had practice today, I hadn't had enough time to set up the picnic. Ali had agreed to set up the picnic while I took Ally bowling. She loved bowling and it gave time to set everything up. Ally had won by a lot which was not a surprise, I sucked at bowling. Of course she had gloated about it, but with the proud smile she wore, I couldn't even be annoyed. 

Before we left, I had texted Ali to make sure everything was set up so we didn't get there too early. I was driving when the reply came in. Ally went to check like normal, but I quickly stopped her, much to her confusion. 

"You can't check that one, it'll ruin the surprise." I pulled over checking the message, making sure to hide it from Ally. Thankfully she didn't question it. 

Ali: Food took longer then planned, just picked it up, need 10 minutes to finish everything. Also found the perfect place to film it.

Ally was wearing a grey sweater, white blouse underneath with the collar showing and black jeans. I don't know what it was, but I found her incredibly attractive when she wore stuff like that. It was mostly for work which is why I got kicked out when she was working. I couldn't keep my hands to myself. "So we need to kill 10 minutes. You look incredibly beautiful so lets make out." 

"Yeah okay."

Ali had set up a blanket on the beach with candles, rose petals and a small speaker for music. Instead of doing the classic picnic foods, I got Ali to pick up some Thai food because it was Ally's favourite and another one of our traditions. 

I watched Ally's eyes light up as we approached the picnic, "Baby, this is beautiful. How did you set this up?"

"I may have gotten Ali to help set it up. You like it?"

"You don't even have to ask, I love everything you do. This is perfect baby. Is that Thai? I'm starving."

I had planned to do the proposal first for 3 reasons. I was terrified of losing the ring, it was likely I would get more nervous as time went on and Ali was waiting to film it. "It is, you need to wait a minute before we eat."

I found the ring before taking Ally's hand, "Growing up I never thought I would find someone who loved me so unconditionally, who loved me as I was. Who would stick by me and support me through everything. But I did. I found you and I never want to lose you. I want you, no I need you by my side for the rest of my life. I love you Ally, more than you will ever know. I know you've already said yes, but I wanted to do this properly." I sunk down on one knee, opening the box, "Will you marry me Ally?"

"Yes, a million times yes." I easily slipped the ring onto her finger watching her eyes widen as she looked at the ring closer. "Holy shit Y/n, this is amazing. Where did you find it?"

"I designed it. It's based on the snowboarding trip."

"Just when I thought I couldn't love you more, you prove me wrong. You are amazing baby. Words can't describe how much I love this. I want this to be my wedding ring as well. It's too perfect to just be an engagement ring. Is that allowed?"

"We can do whatever we want. Ali filmed that by the way, I wanted it for our memories." 

---

Ally and I were looking at wedding ideas together for the first time. At first I was slightly worried that we weren't going to be on the same page, that it might cause fights. I had seen it happen to couples before. I quickly realised that it was a pointless worry, we were on the same page about everything so far. We wanted simple, non-traditional. 

We had started looking at things we would need for the wedding, such as the venue and catering. Everything we had looked at so far was expensive, which I guess wasn't that much of a surprise, everyone always says weddings are expensive. 

I sighed, pushing the laptop away and turning to Ally, "Why are weddings so expensive? Like I know we can afford it, but it just seems like a waste."

"I know, it's just one day, we could use that money towards our honeymoon or a house."

I straddled Ally, hiding my face against her shoulder. As much as I loved planning things, without my meds, even that was slightly overwhelming after a bit of time. There were so many options and things to consider, "We could do a backyard wedding. Ali and Ash might let us use their place if we asked nice enough."

"Of course we would." I jumped, turning around to find them both standing there. 

"I swear the word wedding is like a magnet for all of you. Every time it's mentioned, someone shows up."

"Well you guys keep talking about it in places where there's a high likely hood of someone being around. Anyway, we would love to have your wedding at our place if that's what you wanted."

Reluctantly, I climbed off Ally, moving to stand by Ali and Ash, "You would really do that for us?"

Ali smiled softly, pulling me in for a hug, "Of course we will kiddo. You're family. You're family too Ally."

I noticed Ally trying to hide her smile. No matter how much they showed they loved her or treated her like part of the team, I still got the same warm, almost ecstatic feeling. To me the team was family. The fact that they saw Ally as family was really important to me. "We're not planning anything over the top or even overly traditional, just simple with friends and family."

"Are your parents going to be there?" Ashlyn tried to hide the annoyance in her voice when mentioning my parents, but it didn't work. I wasn't surprised by it, when they found out what it was like for me growing up, they were pissed. 

I had opened up to them about a lot of things, especially Ali, but besides vague information about how they treated me, my parents never really came up. "No, I um cut them off about 3 years ago. They were just destroying my mental health. Ally's parents will be there though, they pretty much took me in."

"They like you more than me sometimes."

"Well we can't wait to meet them."

[izzielizzie93]

High School Sweethearts Part 2-J Burrow

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

College! Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary: There's nothing like coming home for the holidays

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None, some angst and fluff

This one is long & there will definitely be a part 3! Thank you to everyone who liked, shared, and commented on part 1 :)

-------

I’d be lying if I said moving to Baton Rouge was an easy decision; but I would also be lying if I said it didn’t feel right the moment I stepped into my dorm. I had gone earlier than most; because on top of becoming a Tiger, I had also made the LSU cheer team. 

I ended up waiting a day to respond to Joe’s text, choosing to send an emoji of a Tiger and a thumbs up in lieu of actually having the courage to say anything else. 

I unblocked him on everything and added him back as a friend shortly before graduation. We both knew we were mutuals again; but he never liked my new posts. It was morbid curiosity that had me scouring his Instagram and being pathetic when asking friends if he posted on snap.

I mostly did this late at night when I couldn’t sleep, afraid of my dreams. Sometimes I’d wake up after dreaming that Joe hated that I’d followed him to Ohio State and it would end with him breaking up with me and asking me to transer. Other times we’d be happy together and he’d be telling me he couldn’t wait to marry me after graduation. 

Both dreams felt equally horrible when I woke up in my cold dorm, hundreds of miles away from him. 

Eventually, the dreams subsided as fall term began and life got hectic just as I’d predicted it would. I grew very close with two fellow cheerleaders, Sasha and Emily, and they were great distractions. 

Of course, I’d gotten drunk about a month into school starting and spilled everything to them. I had opened up about some details of my life; but always stopped myself because it felt too personal to share with people I’d only known for a couple of months. 

Luckily, my word vomit didn’t scare them off and they helped me stop with my frantic scrolling of Joe’s pages and they even came over and stayed the night when I felt I was going to have bad dreams. 

—

In the month leading up to break, I had been dreading going home. I was hoping everyday that LSU would have a bowl game that weekend; but it was scheduled for the week after and we were all cleared to go home for break. 

I’d fallen back into the habit of stalking Joe online and nothing seemed to point toward any new girlfriends; but I still hurt my own feelings each time I clicked on his page.

“So, Y/N are you excited to be going home for Thanksgiving?” Emily asked as she sat on my bed, watching me pack. “Absolutely, I already have friends texting me trying to make plans for every second and I know my mom is going to protest and want to keep me home.” I felt myself smiling at the thought of being with everyone again. 

“What about-” I turned to glare at her before she finished her sentence. “I mean you know he’ll be there. You might see him.” Sasha piped up from her own side of the dorm. While I was happy that Sasha had become my roommate after the summer, there were times where I wish she hadn’t. 

“I know and I plan on being cordial. I’m going to treat him like an acquaintance and avoid him as much as possible.” I shrugged. Sasha and Emily shared a look and I did my best to ignore them before excusing myself to take a long shower, hoping Sasha would be in bed and Emily would be gone when I got back. 

—

Despite burying myself in schoolwork, the day to leave for Ohio felt like it came too quickly. I was doing my best to stay positive and remind myself that I didn’t need to worry about Joe, I had so many people I wanted to see. 

Once I’d landed and spotted my parents waiting for me, all thoughts of Joe left my mind. Seeing my mom cry wasn’t anything new; but seeing my dad tear up had me crying. 

They peppered me with questions the entire drive home and wanted to know everything about school, cheer, and my friends. I’d kept my mom in the loop, talking to her on the phone every week; but it wasn’t the same as being there. She and my dad had tickets to fly back with me and take a vacation in New Orleans before coming to see LSU play. 

—

Avoiding Joe was easy for the first few days of the trip; but then I was invited to a Bonfire party out at Oakley’s Ranch. Everyone who was home for the holidays, and those who’d never left, were going to be there and I didn’t want to miss out. 

“Wow, Joe is going to go insane when he sees you.” My friend Sarah gasped when I walked out to her car. “Shut up, this isn’t for him.” I glared, getting in. She rolled her eyes, knowing I was lying through my teeth. I did want Joe to see me and not be able to find a good reason why he ever let me go. 

I had on black jeans that hugged me in all of the right places, a black spaghetti strap crop top with a v neckline, black thigh high boots that I’d stolen from Sasha, and a bright red leather jacket. I’d curled my hair and done a smokey makeup look to match my dark aesthetic and I had on a bold red lip color. 

“Is that Joe’s favorite perfume?” My friend Kasey smirked as she got into the car next. After what felt like the longest car ride ever, the taunting ended as we pulled up next to the all too familiar Oakely barn. 

—

A couple of hours had passed and I was happily buzzing, dancing and singing along to songs with friends I hadn’t seen in months. 

I was so into dancing that I didn’t see a certain blonde haired blue eyed man walk in; but he saw me. “Holy shit, Joe is staring so hard.” Sarah slurred, pulling me in close. I let my eyes wander and I smirked when I caught Joe’s eye.

I downed the rest of my drink and excused myself to go outside to get air. I walked once around the barn and on my second trip, Joe was leaning against one of the walls. As I was about to pass him, he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him. 

Despite being in heels, I still had to look up as his 6”4 figure dwarfed me. “Can I help you with something?” I asked. His eyes bore into mine before he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to my lips.

---

:)

@lh4455 @dessxoxsworld

[clumsiestgiantess]

Alright everyone, this prompt is done! I couldn’t help myself, or was just too cute a scenario

Whenever Sierra grumbled in that adorable way of hers, Scotch‘s heart simultaneously softened and sped up.  He loved her in a way beyond words, and as for the coming child — it was impossible to say who he loved more.  “Hungry again?” he asked softly, sliding gently to Sierra’s side.  She nodded, placing her hand over her rounded belly before glancing discreetly at him.  “I know you’ve already gotten me so much..”  With a small smile, Scotch slid her hands into his own, and this time her gaze alighted on his.  “Just tell me, sweetheart.  Whatever you want, I’ll go find it for you.”  A gleaming smile immediately brightened her features.  “Well, since you offered, it’s pickles and peanut butter this time.”  Scotch‘s face scrunched up at the thought.  “Hey!  You promised not to judge!”  He chuckled, “I didn’t say anything!”  Sierra smirked, giving him a light shove, “Your look said enough.”  

After a few goodbyes and a kiss, Scotch picked up his pack of supplies, and headed uncertainly out the door.  This was what put him on edge.  Both he and his wife are borrowers, a species of creature similar to humans — though their range of adaptations differs greatly from their larger, more well-known counterparts.  Their ears are slightly longer and rounder to pick up on acute noises, and their limbs are naturally double-jointed to give them better maneuverability while escaping danger.  However, their most noticeable difference is their height.  The average borrower only grows about four to five inches tall — six at the most.  To survive, many live off of what humans have, simply because it’s easier for them to steal what’s already been made then make it themselves.  Between fending off danger around every corner, and trying to stay hidden in a large and unforgiving world, making anything beyond necessities is only a fantasy for most.

Scotch shuddered at the end of his route through the walls.  He and his wife had more than a few scares over the last few years.  The old house’s cat was by far the most terrifying.  It was the reason they’d moved away, after all.  He and Sierra could barely consider themselves safe around such a dangerous creature, nevermind a child.  The layout of this new place still confused Scotch some, but he’d quickly put to memory the layout of the kitchen after all the times he’d come for yet another random piece of food.  What did she ask for?  Pickles and peanut butter?  He felt his face scrunching up a second time.  “I have to get into the fridge again?  Great.”  

The last time Scotch tried opening the fridge, it took him nearly all night.  A whole leverage system had to be set up just to pry it open.  Tired, but determined to get what his wife asked so sweetly for, he made his way down the kitchen counter, across the floor, and back up to the fridge.  From there, he had to set up the pulleys and whatnot to actually open the thing.  After that, he had to get in and out as quickly as he could — quite a tedious process.  The fridge sets off an alarm when the temperature rises a few degrees too high, meaning the door could only stay open for so long before attention was drawn to it.  If he really had to, Scotch figured he could leave the door open to give himself a bit more time to escape.  The humans would deal with it once he was gone.  

Neither borrower knew much about the humans of the new house.  They had only lived there a little less than a month.  From what Scotch had seen, there seemed to be only two of them, and at least one of them was always in the house.  Beyond that, they knew very little.  Not that it mattered much; a borrower wouldn’t be caught dead with a human so much as looking at them.  

With the fridge finally open, Scotch rushed into the frigid interior, scouring the shelves for a pickle jar.  Luckily, he found it quickly and began yet another ascent.  Using a handmade grapple — a trademark tool of all borrowerkind — Scotch pried off the lid and reached into the jar, knife at the ready.  THUD THUMP THUD  What?!  How-?  No!  The sounds of a human walking towards the kitchen startled Scotch so badly that he dropped his knife into the jar.  That was the least of his worries, though.  Haphazardly throwing the lid back on, he rushed to get out of the fridge.  Sure, he could hide in the racks upon racks of goods, but the human would undoubtedly close the fridge the moment they found it open, leaving him trapped inside.  There really was no other choice, he had to get out.

Winding up the grapple into his bag, Scotch hurriedly jumped down onto the shelf from the top of the jar.  This was a major oversight on his part.  The shelf was made of metal wiring, which left gaps in its surface.  They weren’t wide enough for a borrower to fall through, but a leg or an arm could certainly get stuck between them, and that’s exactly what happened to Scotch.  The footsteps only grew louder as he desperately struggled to free himself, but he could already tell that there wouldn’t be enough time.  The human would find him, and who knows what they might do then.

Scotch‘s heart stung at the thought of Sierra waiting for him back home.  How long would it take her to realize he wasn’t coming back?  She’d have to move again, alone.  And raise their child alone.  He couldn’t let that happen to her, he couldn’t.  But when it came down to it, there wasn’t much he could do to stop the inevitable.  The thought only worsened the pain in his chest.

In the blink of an eye, the refrigerator door was opened wider by someone who was easily thirty times Scotch‘s size.  The human’s eyes wandered sleepily through the contents inside, but when they landed on Scotch, they lifted wide open in shock.  “What the hell?!” Bryan yelped, jumping away from the strange creature in his fridge.  He regarded the little thing for an astonished moment.  It could be a weird mouse or rat, but it almost looked like…  No, it couldn’t be that, could it?  Bryan hesitantly reached for the thing, but just before his fingers made contact, a small choked voice rang through the kitchen.  “Please-  Please, don’t do this!  I- I have a wife and a child on the way; I’m begging you!"  

Bryan’s heart practically dropped out of his chest.  That-  It is a tiny person!  They have.. oh.  What does this little guy think I’m gonna do to him?  Slowly, Bryan moved his hand from the tiny person to the shelf where they were stuck.  Gently, he pressed their leg out of the wire shelving.  Scotch could only watch in frightened awe as the human freed him from the metal wires.  Very briefly, he thought the human might snap off his leg, but it wasn’t any more painful than it was when he got it stuck there to begin with.  Both beings stared at eachother in silence, confused and dumbstruck by the other.  They were both about the same age, and even wore almost identical expressions.  In a moment, the refrigerator alarm sounded, startling them both.  

“Here, let me.. let me close the door for a second.”  Bryan offered an outstretched hand to the smaller man, and he reluctantly climbed on.  Scotch didn’t quite trust the human, but he was afraid of being shut into the cold space, so he went willingly.  After closing the fridge, Bryan set him down on the island counter a few steps away.  He turned, glancing at the contraption still hanging from the refrigerator door.  “What were you looking for in there?” he asked questioningly.  Scotch stayed silent.  “I’m not mad if you’re taking things,” he amended, “I just wanted to know.  Maybe I could help get whatever it is you need.”  Scotch gawked up at the large human.  “You.. You would do that?”  Bryan nodded, “Why not?  What is it you want?”  “Well,” the borrower rubbed the back of his head nervously, “Pickles and peanut butter, for my wife,” he added.

To both of their shock, Bryan suddenly belted out a laugh.  “No way!  My wife gets the same craving!”  “You.. She’s..  You’re having a kid too?”  The human nodded enthusiastically, “I’m Bryan, by the way.  It’s nice to meet you.. tiny.. person.  Sorry if that’s offensive or anything, I just- I have no clue what you are, man.”  A relieved breath of air escaped Scotch‘s lungs.  The human, Bryan, didn’t seem nearly as malicious as he first thought.  Rumors are slow to pass around the community of borrowers, mostly due to their separated, secretive lifestyle.  However, that didn’t stop hundreds of variations of tortuous human stories from passing from household to household.  Humans are known by borrowers to be unnecessarily cruel and overly curious, but Bryan seemed more confused than anything else.

“I’m.. Well, I’m obviously not human, and that’s all you probably need to know.”  Bryan’s eyes narrowed in thought and Scotch hastily added “I- I didn’t mean to be rude!”  “Naw, that’s alright,” the human shrugged, “Clearly you guys aren’t very fond of us, though I don’t really understand why.  I know we’re obviously bigger, but I don’t think either of us have done anything very scary.”  Scotch sighed, “It’s just humans in general.  My wife and I moved in recently, so we haven’t had the time to learn much about you two, specifically.”  Another shock to the borrower: the human agreed with his secrecy.  “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.  I know a few people I definitely wouldn’t want to be, like.. five inches tall around.”  

Bryan returned to the fridge, grabbed a few different items, put them all down on the counter beside Scotch, then went to the pantry and pulled out even more.  “Here, take whatever you want, for your wife and you.”  “R- Really?” the borrower stuttered, amazed at the sheer amount of options spread out for him.  “Of course, dude!  It’s not like you can go to the grocery store and pick stuff up.”  A human pacifist was one thing, but a human who was willing to let a borrower take from them was unheard of.  “And you’re sure you don’t need any of it, yourself?” Scotch asked.  Bryan chuckled, “It's not like you’re taking the whole jar with you!  Just.. think of it as a belated housewarming present or something.”  

At that point, Scotch was shocked he was still surprised by the human.  “You mean we can stay here?  Usually we leave if someone sees us…”  “No, please stay!  I’m gonna need someone else to talk about dad stuff with!  I could introduce you to my wife, and maybe she can meet yours-“  “Woah, woah, one thing at a time!” Scotch cautioned, “Let’s just keep my existence a secret for now, ok?”  Bryan felt it was such an awkward topic between his friends, all of which weren’t even married.  Meeting someone in the same situation as him — or at least a similar one — was beyond exciting.  He couldn’t help it if he was rushing the borrower some.

“Alright, sorry.  You’re right.  I got a bit carried away there.”  Scotch stepped up to the pickle jar and peered in, finding his knife stuck in the middle of it.  “My uhh, my knife is actually in here.  I dropped it when you came over.”  Bryan dug in and pressed it between the tips of his fingers, dragging it back out.  Once that was taken care of, Scotch got to work slicing the tiniest bits of pickle to take back with him.  As he worked, he gestured to a few other items he thought he might need.  “Dude, will you be able to carry all of this?”  Scotch shrugged, “I have to stock up while I can.”  “Or you could just take it whenever you want,” Bryan offered, “I told you that you can have whatever.”  “It’s still a hike to get it, though,” he countered.  Bryan agreed.  “So, are you as nervous as I am?” the human asked after a brief silence.  Scotch glanced up at him.  “About.. what?”  “Your kid, man!  God, I’m kinda freaking out about mine!  They haven’t even been born, and I’m already having doubts whether I can raise them.  I don’t know..  Do you think I’d be a good dad?  It’s just.. a lot.”

Scotch stopped working for a moment.  Setting down his pack and tools, he turned to examine the human in front of him.  He couldn’t deny he’d been thinking very similar things over the last few months.  “Just don’t mess up and you’ll be fine.”  Both of them laughed loudly through the quiet house.  “I’ll sure as hell try.  When’s your kid-“  “Bryan?  What are you doing down there?  What are you laughing at?”  His wife called from the bedroom upstairs, still waiting for the bottle of water he’d promised to bring her.  “Oh shit; I forgot she’s waiting for me,” Bryan whispered quietly to Scotch.  “Nothing hon!  I just remembered something funny!  I’ll have your water in a sec!”  “Thanks!”  The moment his wife called back, he began gathering everything into his arms.  “I gotta put all this back now, but if you want anything else, feel free to get it.  I just don’t want to leave it all on the counter.”  Scotch nodded, “I think what I have is enough.  Thank you, though.  Honestly, I thought you were going to hurt me when you found me, for stealing from you”. 

Bryan gave him a saddened look.  “Naw, I wouldn’t hurt you!  But.. you are still staying here, right?”  “Yeah.  I don’t think you’re a big enough threat to have to move for.”  “Oh,” Bryan said with a tinge of shock, grabbing two water bottles from a package in the pantry.  “What was such a big threat you had to move here?”  Scotch shuddered, “The other humans bought a cat.”  “Geez, that’s definitely not good for the kid,” Bryan remarked.  “Well, I’m gonna head back to bed.  Good luck getting everything back.”  Scotch scoffed, “The bigger problem is going to be hiding it all.  I think my wife would be a bit suspicious if I came back with all this.”  Smiling knowingly, Bryan made his way to the hall leading upstairs.  “See you soon?”  Scotch nodded, hefting his back over his shoulder.  “I’m here practically every night.  Come down and talk about ‘dad stuff’ with me.  Or help me with the food.”  “Or both?”  “Or both.”  

Confirmation settled, Bryan headed upstairs and Scotch headed into the walls.  It had been a strange evening of events, but both were grateful for the companionship.  It was only a matter of time before the kids arrived, and Scotch had the feeling he would end up needing the human’s help with a few things.  Even if he didn’t, it was still nice having someone new to talk to.

[bunnysbrainrot]

Hi! Could you do something with Crowley and a reader wearing a maid outfit, please? ♡

Absolutely!

————

Content: dom/sub dynamic, spanking, fingering, general S&M, praise kink

A/N: ‘Girl’ is used in this, I sincerely apologize if this isn’t preferred! I can make another version with others terms if needed.

(happy reading, my loves!)

————

“Don’t forget the windowsill,” Crowley said in a low voice. You slid the duster across the windowsill, collecting nonexistent matter from the wood. The King kept his space very tidy, meaning that your ‘cleaning’ was essentially useless in his room. Even still, he wanted to use this as a test of obedience for you. He had shared with you the other day that it would be a fulfilled fantasy to have you dressed up like this. You could admit that lately you’ve mouthed him off quite a bit. To be fair, you were testing him on how well he could handle your bratty behavior.

You finished your dusting, walking towards the door to place the duster in the caddy it was kept in. Crowley eyed you from the bed, eyes raking over your legs clad in fishnet tights, to your supple thighs shadowed by the ruffled bottom of your dress. The collar of your shirt crept high on your neck, urging you all the more to rip the damn thing off. The King’s eyes scoured your chest hungrily, before gazing at you fully, a hand sliding to his lap.

He patted his leg, his tone serious, but thick with lust.

“One more thing.”

Your short black heels clicked on the hardwood floor until you reached the side of the bed. Crowley looked at you expectantly, as if you should already know what he planned, though you hadn’t the slightest clue. You gave him a questioning look, tilting your head at him.

“You see,” he explained, “with the way you’ve been behaving lately, it would seem only fit to have a punishment. A lack of manners needs… rectification.”

Crowley’s expression shifted into utter seriousness. A coil tightened in your stomach as his gaze fell to your legs. Your thighs clenched together in hopes to add friction to the ache between them.

“Across my lap,” purred Crowley, inching a finger from your thigh and under the skirt of your dress, brushing toward your sex. You gasped at his touch, frozen with anticipation.

His hand stalled, “I hope I won’t have to repeat myself.”

At that, something inside of you shifted. Crowley sat up more fully, extending his legs to allow you to lay across them. You did so dutifully, keeping your hips on the King’s thighs. A broad hand began its journey from your calf to your upper thigh. Cold air struck your ass as Crowley flipped your dress onto the middle of your back.

“Now, you’re a smart girl,” whispered Crowley. “All you have to do is count.”

A tight sensation filled your stomach, knowing exactly what he was talking about. The King delivered a firm smack to your ass. You let out a yelp, catching your breath to remember his instructions.

“One.”

Without a word Crowley gave another smack, your skin stinging from the impact. This time your noises were less surprised, more lustful. The sensation flowed over you and sent a shock to your heat.

“Two.”

“Attagirl,” he cooed, bringing his hand down to your ass once more, the same spot becoming more tender with each hit. You muttered ‘three’ into the sheets. Though with this, the King wasn’t satisfied. He grazed a hand on your sensitive skin, patting softly.

“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear you, sweetness.”

Your breath was hot against the sheets, some drool had lazily fallen past your lips onto the bed. Mouth still agape in pleasure, you replied to Crowley.

“Three,” your tone was a bit too snarky for the King’s liking, earning you another firm smack.

“I’m giving you once chance to follow my orders,” he commanded.

As he expected, you didn’t quite listen. Shoving your face into the pillow, Crowley let out a low growl and lifted your ass higher, using a free hand to spread your legs apart. Just as he asked for tonight, you didn’t wear any undergarments, leaving your sensitive cunt exposed to him. The evidence of his teasing lay between your slick folds, practically begging for his entry. Crowley trailed a finger over your slit, coating his fingers in your juices. He hummed as he touched you before hooking two fingers in an opening in the fishnet. With a swift rip your new tights had acquired a gaping hole to expose your arousal to the King of Hell.

Crowley gripped your hips and pulled them higher, arching your back to raise your soaked pussy into the air. He repositioned to keep his hand trained above your sex, bringing a harsh smack to your clit. You cried out against bundled sheets, your sounds muffled into the bed.

“Oh, please don’t make such a fuss, darling. We both know the extent of your depravity. Don’t play coy and pretend you don’t like a little pain down here.”

Your back arched further, your body silently begging for his hands to roam your as further. Though he did oblige, Crowley had one more plan in mind.

“Since you can’t seem to follow simple instructions, I suppose I’ll have to resort to… other measures,” he said lowly. Crowley dipped a finger into your entrance, hooking downward to hit your g-spot with ease. The sensation had your walls tighten around him, drawing out a long groan from the King.

Your hips pushed back into his hand, eagerly grinding to gain more pressure on your sweet spot.

“You beg, or you get nothing,” Crowley growled. Your hips slowed, gently moving on him in a desperate plea. “My, insatiable as always. You make a perfect little whore.”

It seemed he knew exactly what made you tick. Crowley inserted another finger, stretching out your throbbing cunt. He refused to move any part of his body until you became as still as he was.

“Beg. Or, get nothing. Your choice.”

Stuffing down your pride you whimpered, “Please, sir.”

A beat passed before you corrected yourself.

“Please, may I have more, sir? Your… your fingers, I mean.” As a reply, Crowley’s fingers curled inside of you. The noises coming from you were music to the King’s ears. He dipped his head toward your rear, planting a kiss on the skin freshly exposed from the ripped tights.

His pace only quickened, pumping in and out of your pussy with a series of hits to your g-spot. The sounds became clearer to you both now - your high pitched cries in pleasure, the sloppy sounds of your cunt soaking Crowley’s fingers. A calloused palm struck against your clit with each movement, the combination of pleasure sending you to the edge of a climax.

The King slowed his movements to let your breath even out. You wriggled with the lack of touch, grinding hopelessly against his still fingers. Crowley began to resume at an excruciatingly slow pace, bringing a cry from you.

“Your next test is rather simple.”

One harsh curl to your sweet spot. A cry rung out.

“Don’t cum.”

The quick pace returned - a brutal pumping of fingers against your most sensitive area. With a pattern of alternating speeds the King kept you on edge for what had felt like an eternity. At this point your thighs had become coated in your juices, as were Crowley’s fingers and wrist. Your walls clenched down around him, fluttering as the rubber band in your abdomen threatened to snap.

A smirk tugged at Crowley’s lips, “Now.”

Another curl of his talented fingers took you tumbling over the edge of pleasure. Crowley buried his fingers deeper into your aching pussy, stretching your walls to fit him. He slowly pumped his fingers into you, helping you ride out the shockwaves of your orgasm. Whining against the sheets you lowered your shaking legs while Crowley removed himself from you. His hand found your mouth, which opened on instinct for him to stick his coated fingers inside. You wove your tongue between his fingers, lapping up everything that had leaked from you. The King of Hell hummed happily as you did so, removing his hand to fix your dress and moving it back into its proper place.

He gave you a firm pat on your thigh, “Now, I think we should both show a little more skin. Ending the night with just my fingers wouldn’t be very polite, would it?”

You shook your head, replying to him, “It… it wouldn’t.”

“Clever girl.”

————

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

-Bunny

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Ooh, I got one. AITA for telling me sick, elderly dad "no" when he asked if I'd come help around the house?

So I think I know the answer to this already, but I'm curious about other people's opinions…. and I want to rant.

My dad and I (36, trans masc but I only figured that out about 5 years ago) have been butting heads for a while. Family situation is: I had cool hippy liberal parents but things went downhill with various addictions and depression. I lived with them until I was 30 (with me paying the bills for several years) and then finally moved out after I realized how unhealthy it was for me to be there.

Moving out coincided with me figuring out some things about myself, mainly the trans thing, probably because I felt more comfortable/safe and could focus on things other than that shitty living situation.

Another thing I'd finally realized, shortly before I moved out, was how messed up my relationship with my dad had been. Basically, I grew up with him doing this thing where he'd tell me I couldn't trust any of my friends (the implication being I could only trust him), or he'd tell me how smart I was because I saw things his way and talk about how people we knew were dumb because they didn't. He also taught me that I shouldn't show or admit to mental illness or neurodivergence because people (even my friends) would take advantage of me.

Once I'd gone, he repeatedly asking me to come visit, sending me messages about how sad he was and how much he missed me. I did visit a few times, but just being back in that house makes me feel real uncomfy.

At some point I share with him my observations about our past and how it negatively effected me. His response… is to say he doesn't think that's how it went. I keep trying to explain, asking him to acknowledge that these things did happen between us and, whether he meant it to or not, it did mess me up. He keeps dismissing it or redirecting the blame onto my mom or his shitty dad, or suggesting that my friends (who I'm living with now) have turned me against him.

But he also keeps pestering me to visit more, guilt-tripping me with how sad my old dog, Cavall, is after each time I do come by (I would have taken the dog with me, but he's a big fluffy malamute mix and the roommates have a small house + one is allergic. I didn't want to impose too much, so I'd limited myself to bringing only the one cat who I had the closest bond with and leaving the other pets with my parents).

All of this back-and-forth with my dad finally comes to a head a couple months ago when I ask for a specific item of mine that I left at my parents house. My dad responds with a little poem about how depressed he is because he misses me and I've abandoned him. I throw back some brusque line in which I call him "bro"…

… and that earns a response in which he mocks me about pronouns and gender identity.

I am shocked, because my parents were always super cool about queer stuff. I tell him so and then block him on facebook. He responds to that by scouring the house for everything I left behind, packing it up in cardboard boxes, and dumping it all in my roommate's driveway with zero notice.

I figure he's done with me at that point… but then, last week, he sent me an email which reads:

"I hope you're well. I hope your family is well. I miss you. I'm sick today. Weak. Dizzy. Queasy. Slept a lot, thankfully. I want to ask you, if I were to become too sick to do things for days, would you be someone I could ask to come make some soup, take out the trash, help and give comfort? I won't be surprised at a "no", but, a "yes" would be wonderful. I got the trash out and the dogs fed. Cavall is off his breakfast lately, but, usually eats supper. He used to eat better, but, he's really getting old and slow now. In the six years I've walked him he's gone from wanting to run a lot to slow walking and sniffing. I'm getting down some oatmeal with raisons and yogurt now. Hopefully I'll be better tomorrow. I think so, but, the question arises at such times. Plz tel yes or no, so I can know for future reference."

And, well, I told him no. I hate the idea of abandoning sick elderly people who are already living in poverty, but after all the shit I described, I don't want to be around him. So, what's the vote?

What are these acronyms?

[timextoxhajima]

KISS & MAKE UP: PARK SUNGHOON

≛ an anthology series of break-up stories that end up in a one-night stand [only hyungline] -> HEESEUNG | JAY | SUNGHOON | JAKE

≛ genre: pretty explicit smut, angst

≛ warnings: alcohol, cursing,

≛ word count: 2.9k

≛ synopsis: it’s been a couple of months since you broke up with your high school sweetheart. the reason? he wanted a family and you wanted freedom. but come the day you meet him again and park sunghoon apparently hasn’t moved on. 

≛ taglist: @from-xero​​ @haechanhues​​ @abdiitcryy​​ @kyleeanne​​ @dontcallme20​​ @vantxx95​​ 

what a petty man, you think to yourself. you should’ve known you’d run into sunghoon - this was his territory. but bringing his personal feelings onto work grounds? 

unprofessional. 

“the labels?”

you frown at him. “what labels? i wasn’t told to label anything.”

a sharp glare. “the food? the condiments? the drinks?”

“you’re only telling me now, ten minutes prior to it starting?” you scoff and turn towards the storage. “i don’t even know if i have labels.”

sunghoon initially doesn’t follow, but you can hear his loud louboutins clacking against the floor as he hurries after you. “i find it hard to believe as an experienced event organiser, you had the brains to forget this. or rather, the lack thereof.”

ignoring him, you scour through your storage boxes. 

“great, now it’s gonna start without labels.”

“you have a strange obsession with labels,” the items in the box clunk against the sides as you shove them around like sand in a pit. “besides, if you’re running this event for the privileged, i’m almost positive they’d be clever enough to figure out... oh, i don’t know. a plate of chicken wings?” 

“but how will they know if it’s spicy or not?”

halting in your movements, you turn, still squatting, and glare upwards at him. he has his arms crossed over his chest, the curve of his tie winding outwards between the two sides of his blazer. there’s a little pinch of hair that’s sticking out from the rest of his head, and you’re just itching to cut it off. maybe stick it up his nose or something. 

“you did not just tell me to label hot wings.”

“i just did,” he clears his throat and finally relaxes his hand to point accusingly at you. “don’t mess tonight up. i don’t care what you do, don’t mess it up like you messed up everything else.”

the packet of labels in your hand falls back into the box when you stand, squinting at him in disbelief. 

“’everything else’? excuse you, it’s absolutely not my fault that we wanted different things. did you think you would still be happy if we stayed together despite knowing we wanted different things?” 

“i’d like to think we could’ve gotten through it together,” the vulnerability is nothing but a smear in his voice. this is what he likes to do - make you believe him for a moment, just long enough to win you over, before he goes back to his own beliefs. at first, you fell for it like a dog obsessed with his favourite chew toy, but at time went by, all you saw it as was manipulative. 

“don’t play that card again.”

“what card?” sunghoon frowns his dark brows together. 

“the ‘together’ card. i’m so sick of you talking about being together and getting through things together when it’s just you giving me the fucking problems and i pull you through them-”

“but isn’t being together the fucking definition of a relationship? you called it quits just because we were on different roads-”

“i called it quits because we were on different roads. you wanted a home and a family and have a dainty wife at home cooking all your stupid meals because you don’t bother how to learn to pick up a knife- but does it look like i wanna do that?”

“what’s so bad about having a home and a family, huh? is it my fault that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and i was just obsessed with the thought of having you to myself forever?”

“oh, my god. even now... you don’t care about how i feel and what i want. you only think about how prestigious and how privileged i should be that you’re in love with me and that’s all that matters to you. the value of you to other people, and never the other way round.”

sunghoon doesn’t scare you. at some point, you loved him. he may have been spiteful and manipulative with his words but he always had good intentions, though it may have been for his own benefit. you would never know. 

it was difficult to come to terms with how bitter the relationship had gotten. nearing the end of it, you were hoping he’d be able to find the strength in him to agree to an amicable break-up. but sunghoon is a raging eternal fire stuck in ice buried deep underground, and so initiating the break-up was as good as shoving a bomb down under. 

‘amicable’ was an antonym. 

“what do you want me to say?” he looks down at you, brown eyes staring into your soul. he doesn’t cry easily, but here he is, tearing up. 

are those crocodile tears?

“i wanted a fairytale and you wanted a reality. i don’t know how to tell you that i don’t think either of those was wrong. i just thought we could come to a compromise.”

“compromise? what compromise would it be had i done what you wanted? then i’ll be living your dream, not mine.”

“and what exactly is your dream? you’ve been working so hard and yet you’re still here! you may think it’s noble of yourself that you’re putting this amount of effort and that it’ll reap some kind of harvest at the end but i was watching you work your life and time away. all i wanted to do was let you rest and relax at home at your own comfort. was that so wrong?”

“where is park sunghoon?”

the voice from outside is a relieving break from the confrontation. it worked for you, because you had no rebuttal. 

sunghoon sighs and looks down at his feet, then he looks up to the ceiling and sucks in a deep breath, finally using his fingers to push the pinch of hair on his forehead back into the rest of his dark brown locks. he rubs his eyes, getting rid of his tears. 

he clears his throat and pats down his blazer before squatting to reach behind you for the labels. he turns without a word, leaving you to look at the surrounding floor. 

but he stops at the door for a moment, then turns. 

“you think i’m not good for you because i stop you from living your life the way you want to. but it frustrates me to see you run around in circles with yourself. all i wanted to do was come home to you, stress-free and happy. but if you’d rather spend your time chasing after your own tail, then be my guest.”

he swallows, his adam’s apple shifting up and down. the door clicks open and he leaves the storage. 

“oh, there you are! god, we were looking all over for you and the event organiser. do you happen to have any kind of labelling or signages for the food? i have guests that can’t have hot wings.”

“was just looking for them.”

the footsteps fade away. the conversation gets further. the storage light flickers off due to the lack of movement.

the evening runs in slow motion. sunghoon had all the food and drinks labelled just as the doors to the event opened, and somehow used it as a conversation starter for everybody greeting him at the table. something about how he tried to snag one or two wings before it started and instantly regretted it because they were spicy.

as someone who didn’t particularly love spicy foods, sunghoon had developed a keen instinct to telling whether something was spicy. 

but occasionally, you’d sneak a peek at sunghoon, hard at work and immersed in the conversation he probably initiated. it never failed to wonder you how the introvert in him is able to hold professional conversations. 

there are few regrets in the world you would admit to having. one of them was falling out with him. 

the happier you were, the more upsetting the break-up was. sunghoon loved sneaking into your room and spending the night, but that made it all the more harder when you spent them alone thereafter. he had a knack for picking you little flowers off the road, wrapping them in napkins and leaving them at your window, but they began rotting away and flying off in the wind like ash from your ended love. 

sunghoon isn’t a man of many words - words that make sense at least - but it’s in his ache and heart break that he means every syllable he articulates. 

it’s annoying that they make sense. 

by the end of the night, you realised that sunghoon had saved you from ruining the event - half the hot wings were left untouched because they were too hot for the public. they were samyang flavoured. 

once the event had ended, sunghoon spent most of his time at the doors, seeing his guests off and making sure everyone got into their respective vehicles. you are left with the mess in the storage, that you begin to pack, worried about how you would respond when he comes in to tell you “i told you so”.

“thirty minutes,” he calls out from the outside. you assume he was talking to the person in charge of locking up the space. “thanks.”

mindlessly dumping what was left into the storage boxes, you try to lift it onto the trolley you have parked in the room. you use your thighs, but the edge of the box is heavy and it seeps into your flesh, leaving a mark. then the weight causes it to slide off and just before everything can spill out-

“what the hell-” sunghoon quite literally steps over the boxes and into a space in between - the ends of his pants rolled up thanks to the other boxes in the room - one hand gripping the edge of the box and the other holding the trolley still. “are you-”

his eyes automatically look down where the box had been resting on, and he notices the little rip in your nylon pants where the box had been resting on. with a gentle tut of his teeth, he snatches the box from you and rests it atop the others, a frown on his head. 

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know?” he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the mess. 

“i was just finishing up-” trying to move back in to take responsibility of your logistics, you take a step forward. 

“you. stay. right the fuck. there,” he says, jabbing the air with every word. he rests his arm by his side, frame awkwardly slanted over the mess on the floor. his blazer hangs by his side, the tip of the expensive material kissing the roll of mahjong paper sticking out from one of the boxes. he sighs, and purses his lips, turning around and squatting to repack the boxes. 

“i... come on. just leave it. i can do it.”

“stop trying to think you can do everything,” he rebutts, turning to look at you from his squatting position. with a gentle huff, he lifts the box infront of him and dumps it on the trolley. “if you were superman, you would’ve figured it out earlier.”

“okay, well... i get it, alright? you don’t... you don’t have to keep rubbing it in.”

“i’ll rub it in because i can and because you don’t listen,” he finishes with another box and stacks it. sunghoon stands, taking in a deep breath and combs his hair with his fingers.  

the strands of your fringe come loose from the rest of your hair, but your eyes travel down to the floor. there’s an issue of pride that you can’t overcome, but your heart drops and you forget about it when sunghoon reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

your fringe falls back into your eyes, so he pushes it up, and keeps his finger there as he looks down at you with a gentle frown on his forehead. 

before you can say anything, he leans forward. with the other palm, hot and slightly sweaty from all the lifting he’s been doing, he presses his lips into yours. 

by instinct, your eyes close. the scent of his cologne is worn, but still identiable. your hair falls back onto your lids when he releases it to cup your other cheek, and the memories of him flood back into your heart. all the nights of playful bickering about what movie to watch, all the late night strolls in the park and the skating rink dates he would drag you on just because he wanted to let you into his world. 

you had forgotten what it was like to feel special, to be the only person that sunghoon had been able and willing to open up his heart to. knowing that he still loved you made you feel like you were still special. 

your hands find the collar of his blazer, gently pushing him away. through pursed lips, you look at him with tired eyes. “hoon, i don’t think this is healthy.”

he’s quiet, refusing to remove his hands from your face. he remains his position, even after you reach up in a bid to pull his hands away from your cheeks.

“not everything anybody does in their life is healthy,” he presses his forehead unto yours. “i’d love an unhealthy love with you even if it means we’d fight and cry about it. this... cannot be replaced. not by anybody. you are my unhealthy love, and that is what i want.”

your heart is racing. you can hear the beating in your ears, and if he wasn’t holding you, you might’ve started shaking. 

but he leans down and kisses you again, this time begging you to remember everything that you once had with him, convincing you that it wasn’t worth giving up. 

it’s so much easier to know that you’d crying in his arms after a fight, than worrying about forgetting him. 

sunghoon gently pushes you back until your rear hits a countertop, and he blindly pushes whatever was on it aside. lifting you by your thighs, he places you on the surface and runs his fingers down the length of your arm. your skin tickles under his nails and his cold fingertips, which stop at your hands. he interlocks his hands with yours at the edge of the counter, then he stops and pulls away, slowly tilting his head upwards to kiss your forehead. 

his thumb and index finger are on your chin now, gently pushing you back so you were laying down. 

“wait, isn’t there a camera here or something-”

“you forget i know the people who own this building,” he raises his brows and moves backwards to kneel. then, his lips are on your ankles, undoing the straps of your heels. hold palms move up your calf and under your knees after your shoes come off, and he stands to undo the buckle on your pants. 

he helps you lift your hips, the silk sliding off your skin and to the floor with ease. sunghoon kneels again, kissing the inner side of your knees and thighs and then your hip bones, your fingers finding the crown of his head and making a mess of his waxed hair. 

your head tilts back when the final piece of clothing in his way comes off, and the heat from his skin hits where you’ve missed him. guiding your legs to rest on his shoulders, he has you like you had been in a long-distance relationship.

your toes curl, heart thunking in your chest and fingers gripping his hair tighter and tighter. 

then he stops, licking and biting his lips to get the rest of it off. you sigh, relieved from the sudden affection he’s providing you. you look down and watch him undo his belt, but he doesn’t bother to remove it, simply unbuttoning himself and pulling the zipper down. 

then he gently pulls you towards him, and it’s a moment of truth as you lock eyes with him. 

he waits for you to protest.

but you don’t. 

so he eases himself to your comfort, and your lips fall apart like your hair on the counter top as you lay back again. there’s a gentle frown in your forehead that he kisses away, his breath heavy in your hair as he gives you a few seconds. 

so, like the good ol’ times, he stands upright and starts to move, sounds and movements still tamed. but blame it on the yearning, blame it on the unhealthy need for him and the feelings he provides that cannot be replaced - it doesn’t take long for him to find where it makes your mind turn to static. 

“finish for me, princess,” he presses down with his thumb. 

and like a well-behaved one, you do. he pulls out once you’re finished, and he releases himself on your thighs. 

sunghoon is slightly panting, but he eases his breathing with a deep breath. turning around to your logistic boxes, he pulls out a packet of wet wipes. 

“are you sure i don’t have to worry about the cctv in here?” your fingers press into your temples. 

sunghoon chuckles, helping you sit up. “the only thing you need to worry about now is how you’re going to tolerate me for the rest of your life.”