#plus me wasting my life like can I live a good life single??

[emeraldbabygirl]

I blame Na Dokhyun the former member of History for these very sappy romantical marriage thoughts. Cause I’m constantly judging male idols for getting their girlfriend pregnant and then deciding to get married yet that’s what I write about. It’s either stated or implied that all my smut are with a boyfriend, I’ve never written any smut where the idol is your husband.

Like for me personally, maybe I’m just too old school and think this is the way it should be, instead of jumping right into the marriage after the baby after only like 3 years of a relationship (as an example) I would want to date that person for way longer than a few years because if I’m wanting to get married I want to be absolutely positive that the person I’m dating is the one I want to marry. I don’t want to marry and then 3 months down the road decide it’s not working. Plus if I’m planning on having children I need to get used to marriage life first and want to settle down with that person before I start thinking by about getting invested in a kid. I do not want to just have a kid and then like some people break off the relationship of divorce and then I’m tied to that kid and the man can just go off and do whatever without paying child support.

Maybe I’ve just been around bad relationships and assume the guy with always leave or the relationship won’t work out, like, a prime example being my parents relationship which is the reason why I told myself I never wanted in a relationship in the first place cause I was afraid I’d get involved with someone like my father and end up the same way. Another thing I do is when idols get married and have kids and then they divorce and the wife sometimes is stuck with everything and I just assume that’s how it could be for me like, every relationship is different and as far as idols there are some good marriages and such like I think Rain and Chen are doing great (even tho I don’t agree in getting pregnant before marriage hell I wouldn’t even be comfortable having sex until after marriage but I’m just old school I guess) anyway like there have been 3 idol marriages I know of that just didn’t end up well and I don’t want that but sometimes I get that “baby fever” or the “marriage feelies” and I just want that. Like I believe I’m too young rn to get married and have kids, the whole she-bang but woman don’t have a long ass time to wait before their internal clocks stop ticking.

Like I always told my mum I’d never be in a relationship, I’ll never get married, “I’m sorry I can’t give you grandchildren.” And I think she’ll probably die knowing that. But what if I decide later on down the road I want to starting dating and that leads to eventually getting married and having a child like my mum will die thinking I never wanted that. Like, I really really try not to think about these marriage and other life thoughts cause I get pretty upset I mean I watched this episode of a show centered around a wedding and all three times I saw the episode I just cried. Like I don’t have a father to walk me down the aisle, I don’t have a father for the father daughter dance (if that’s even really a thing) and now it’s like if I don’t get into a relationship and get married and pop out children in the next couple months to a year I’m afraid my mum will never know whether I did or not. I’m afraid she’s die before I even get in a relationship, she won’t see my boyfriend or to her horror my girlfriend or whoever it may be Idk, she won’t be at my wedding she won’t see the new house I move into with my husband she won’t be there for my baby shower or anything leading up to the north of my offspring and she won’t see my child or get to hold her grandchild.

And I know it upsets her cause she hoped for grandchildren and her sister has like 4 and she’s jealous and I feel bad cause I want my mum to be happy and get to hold a child and she wants the bloodline to continue but damn to the bloodline really end with me and my siblings. I’m afraid she’s just not going to be around by the time I decide to do this stuff if I really want to. Or if she is she won’t be able to see my bf or the wedding of the grandchildren cause she’ll be completely blind. Ugh! Idk I want to cry :( sometimes I want to be in a relationship and I want to have a cute wedding and I want my mum to cry at my wedding and I want the whole “something old something blue something borrowed something new” OR WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS and I want the whole the groom can’t see the bride til the wedding and bridesmaids and all that stuff that goes into a wedding but I feel most of the time that because of everything that’s happened in my life and the way I act and talk about men irl that it’s just not for me and I should push every relationship/marriage/child bearing thought out of my head :(

Ugh I’m done rambling thanks Dokhyun for those unwanted sappy and gross thoughts

[mrsparrasblog]

Take Me to Church

Summary: John MacTavish, the black sheep of his traditional chatolic family, hides his polyamorous relationship with his boyfriend Simon and you their pregnant plus-size girlfriend from his judgmental relatives. When you visit his family while being 9 months pregnant you need to face the reality of his cruel family.

Normaly I think his parents are the most supportive folks but this idea popped up in my head.

TW: Pregnancy, mention of labour, mention of homophobia, fat phobia and strong catholic beliefs, has a happy end

John MacTavish was always the black sheep of his family, and for most of his adult life, he was okay with it. Seeing his family only three times a year made him endure the hate he got from his brothers. In their humble opinion, he was wasting his life; a career in the military wasn’t sustainable. He would risk his life for what? For no wife to come home to and no bairn. If they had seen his single-room bachelor apartment in Glasgow, they would cringe even more. Moving to Glasgow was another thing they disapproved of. He could have lived on the farm like every other MacTavish, crowded with all his nephews. He really loved them, but coming back from every deployment to help on the farm left him with no freedom and several set-up dates with "proper" Scottish girls.

If it had been his grandma’s choice, he’d marry a thin, catholic Scottish girl. And despite the girls being absolutely beautiful, it just wasn’t what he wanted. John MacTavish only had four wants in his life, and his family could only respect one of them (the want for a good whiskey). Becoming a Military Captain wasn’t one of them, dating his Lieutenant (coming out as BI would be an early grave for his grandparents and dad), and his fourth want was you, the beautiful, soft girl who made him and his Lieutenant go crazy. His family would have approved of you being a girl, but you being an atheist, not from Scotland, a plus-sized girl (which he and Simon absolutely adored), and you being in a relationship with both of them at the same time, would be another matter. Sometimes he laughed thinking about what would scare his family more: him being bi, only dating soft, curvy women, being in a poly relationship, or dating two "foreigners." He decided the poly thing would be the final death blow for his family.

So he hid this side of himself for years, hurting himself and, more importantly in his eyes, hurting you and Simon. Both of you tried hard not to act hurt when you spent another Christmas without him because he needed to attend his family gatherings without his dark secret.

The thing about secrets is they can never be kept, especially if his secret was crying in his strong arms with the famous device with two lines in your hands. “Johnny, what am I gonna do?” you sobbed while he tried everything to ease your mind. He knew it was his, always knew. Simon couldn’t be the dad; he had decided as soon as he was 18 to go to the doctors and take the responsibility to never have children.

The first months of the pregnancy were beautiful despite all the throwing up. When you thought you had two guard dogs before the pregnancy, you were so wrong. You didn’t even know that people could get so protective. Simon was attached to your hip every second he wasn’t on deployment, shooting death glares at anyone who even dared to look at you. Johnny didn’t allow you to clean or cook. “Won't let ma pregnant girl cook. What kind of lad do you think I am?” Johnny huffed as you complained about being pregnant and not sick. Even the sex got better; you were living the life with your two perfect boyfriends.

To his surprise, Simon was happy about the news. A child wasn’t something he thought was in his cards, but with you and Johnny, it could be possible. Even if he had the fear that the baby would only accept Johnny as his dad, you immediately told him that he was an idiot—the child would see him as the dad he was. "Who cares about fucking biology?"

Until your last weeks of pregnancy, when it was finally time to drop the bomb on Johnny’s parents. You wanted grandparents and uncles for your baby so badly. In the end, you regretted your decision.

Scotland, Kingussie

You wore a cute sundress, one of the only things that still fitted you since the pregnancy. You looked radiant; pregnancy suited you. And Johnny’s hand in yours, waiting for his parents to open the door. Johnny told you only half the truth when he said his parents were happy to meet you. They were, they just didn’t know half of it. And you were long asleep when Johnny and Simon had a fight about him finally telling his parents about him and that he mattered too. This didn’t help you prepare for what would happen once you entered the cozy farm in Scotland.

The door opened, and an older woman hugged Johnny immediately. “We missed you, my sweet boy. Show me the lovely lass you brought home.” One glance at you was enough to make her gasp. “Dear God, you’re pregnant!” Her blue eyes scrutinized you. To her credit, she really tried to hide her disgust, not wanting to judge you. “Is it yours, son?”

“Mom, of course it’s mine.”

“Well, congratulations.”

She walked inside the house while you and Johnny removed your shoes. Both of you fell into an awkward silence. “Johnny, what the fuck was that?”

“Mo leannan, I’m sorry. They’re a bit catholic, but they mean well, I promise.”

“Johnny…”

“Please, give them a small chance, and then we can leave whenever you want.”

You sat down at the enormous table. Fourteen pairs of blue eyes stared at you like you were a foreign alien invading their beloved home.

“So, you’re Johnny’s lass?” his father asked gruffly.

“Yes, Johnny and I have been dating for four years,” you smiled softly. Simon and Johnny were the best four years of your life.

“Four years, so I assume that bairn is yours, Johnny?”

“Of course it’s his,” you snapped, offended that he even asked. You would never cheat on Simon and Johnny. There wasn’t even a reason—the relationship and the sex were perfect.

“I didn’t talk to you, lass. I asked my son.”

“Dad, of course it’s mine.”

“So, you’re telling me that you compromised that poor girl?”

“Compromised?” you asked, confused.

“Not even English by her lack of vocabulary,” his grandfather chimed in.

“I told you, Johnny, you can’t just let your urges win. Look at you, knocking that poor woman up and not even asking for her hand in pòsadh,” his father gripped the table, trying to calm himself down.

“Do you know how much shame you bring to this family, Johnny? I would have given you your great-grandma’s ring, but no, you decided to take the MacTavish name even further into ruin. We accepted all your poor choices, lad, but now you’ve got a non-Scottish girl knocked up without any wedlock.”

“It’s not like the ring would have fit on her fat finger anyway,” his brother mocked, and that was Johnny’s final straw. He grabbed your hand, ready to leave.

“I won’t bother you with my shame anymore. Come, mo leannan.”

“Please, Johnny, stay. I promise Dad and Grandpa won’t say a word. We just never heard of you having a girlfriend, and now she’s pregnant. It’s a big shock.”

Johnny wanted to protest, but you really wanted your baby to have grandparents to love her. You whispered in Johnny’s ear that you needed to stay, at least try it for Sophia’s sake.

Another choice you regretted as soon as you saw haggis on your plate. “Johnny, what’s this?”

“I’m sorry, mo leannan. I told them you’re vegetarian,” he said apologetically.

“It’s good for the baby, lass. At least try it before you mock it,” she said, and you hated yourself for being a people-pleaser because the minute you tasted it, you ran to the toilet, throwing it up.

“That was a tad dramatic.”

“I get it, lass. When I was pregnant with my cute Johnny, I couldn’t hold anything in. Do you already have a name?” His mother really tried to make amends, giving you a bit of slack while his other family members couldn’t.

“Yes, we thought about Sophia.”

“That’s not a Scottish name,” his mother’s tone was full of disappointment.

“You cheated on John!” his grandpa started to scream at you.

“What?”

“The MacTavish family has never born a girl. Never.”

“Grandpa, you better shut your mouth.”

“How dare you talk this way to me in my own house!”

“Mo leannan, start the car already. We’re leaving.”

You went as fast as your swollen pregnant legs could carry you, trying to close your ears to the conversation.

“You won’t see my bairn. You disrespected the fucking love of my life. Who cares if she isn’t Scottish, or not Catholic, or fat? I fucking love her like this. She is the most intelligent, funny, beautiful woman on earth, and I’m going to have at least three babies with her, and you won’t see any of them. Or me. And by the way, I also fuck a man too.” He ignored the screams of his grandfather, how he was disowned, the pleading of his mother to rethink his choice. All he needed was to get back to you, the baby, and drive you to Simon, his perfect family.

“Mo leannan, I’m sorry. I should have done this years ago.”

“I just want to go home, Johnny. I’ve had enough.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to be mad at him or thankful for protecting you and your baby like this. But before you could decide on that, your shoes were already soaked. “Johnny, the water broke.”

“Yeah, I’ll fix it at home.”

“What?”

"Well, I don’t have a screwdriver here, and I won’t ask my dad for one."

"Why do you need a screwdriver?"

"To fix the car. You said the water broke; you meant the leak, right? Simon was already on it, but I guess it’s opened again."

"No, Johnny, my fucking water broke."

He stared at you in horror before he scooped you up and started to run. "Where are you running, Johnny?"

"To the hospital."

"We have a bloody car."

"But it’s leaking."

"Johnny, I’m leaking, not the bloody car," you screamed in pain after one of your first contractions.

"Fucking hell, I can bring that baby. I helped a cow with labor; it’s the same, right?"

"Johnny, you’re going to drive me to a fucking hospital. I’m not some highland cow."

-----------------------------

After 16 hours of painful labor (MacTavish babies are huge), your sweet girl was finally born, and Johnny didn’t even faint, much to Simon’s surprise, who almost caused six car crashes on the way to you. And now you were lying in bed, barely awake, looking at your tiny bundle of joy in Simon’s burly arms. It was enough to make a grown man cry. Kyle, Johnny, and Simon were just amazed by the baby.

The door went wide open. "How is my girl?" John ran towards your bed, looking to see if you were injured, hurt, and alive, holding you tight in his arms. He didn’t even look once at Sophia; he was just too afraid about you. "Sorry, I was afraid something happened to you with these muppets." You always wished to experience a father’s love, and right now you realized you didn’t need to have Johnny’s dad or grandpa for this—you had Captain Price.

"It’s okay, Dad," and this was enough to make Price bawl his eyes out. He always wanted a daughter, but infertility was a cruel curse on him. He kissed your forehead. "Let me look at my granddaughter." He accepted this role without hesitation, when you saw your baby between her two loving fathers, her uncle Kyle, and her Grandpa Price, you knew she already had the family you were searching for.

A/N: I don't approve of anything his family said if this isn't clear, I was almost in the same situation (without pregnancy) meeting the strongly prejudiced grandma of my partner. So please don't come at me with hate, already have enough of it in my asks :)

[topazadine]

Things that immediately turn me off a fiction book

I'm pretty picky with what I read, because the time I spend reading is time that I could spend writing. I generally know if I will like a book within the first chapter, and I feel no shame in giving up if I'm not vibing with it.

And no, I don't believe in the "oooh read further it warms up" because does it? Does it really? Do I want to waste time finding out?

Frankly, at this point in life, I read more nonfiction than fiction because there's just so. many. bad. books. that are getting published. Worse than fanfictions.

Anyway, here are the things that make me give up. Maybe hearing this will help you as you write your own masterpiece.

Too Many Proper Nouns

Three characters maximum in the first chapter or two. Do not throw dozens of people at me. I will get confused and give up. Let me get to know the main character, by themself or with a few of their closest companions, before you make me remember everyone else. And go deep with those characters! I want someone to stick with!

You can reference other characters, to create a sense of a deeper world, but do not go all-in on them. Make it clear that they are just there to provide a bit of context, and we don't have to remember them yet. We should only be meeting three characters maximum.

Throwing Us Immediately Into a Dramatic Action Point

This is controversial I know, but I hate when something immediately starts with a battle. I don't care if any of these people live or die. I don't know them. I haven't grown attached to any of them.

Even just a page or two to get to know them first will help. You can have them gearing up for a battle, thinking about what's going to happen, maybe talking to their friends, maybe checking their armor, whatever feels natural for them. But do not just start with stabbing people! I don't care about them yet!

Too Many Details

Many this is just me, but I simply do not care about every piece of armor your character is wearing. I don't need to hear a play-by-play of every single color of every single thing because I don't care. Pick out a few specific things for me to focus on and that's it. Stop overloading me with colors and patterns and armor styles.

Yes, yes, you've done your research on historically accurate gear. That's great. It would be good for a movie. But if I have to look up different armor pieces every five seconds, I am glossing over it and moving on. I don't care. I'm here for the story. If I wanted an infodump about medieval armor, I would simply pick up a nonfiction book (and maybe I will).

White Space Syndrome

Tell me what the overall scene looks like instead of all these hyperspecific details of certain objects, like carts or emblems or whatever. I want to know where I am!!

Don't just say "a forest." Tell me what kind of forest. Tell me if it's a young forest or an old snarly forest or a swampy forest or a cold alpine forest.

Don't just say "a castle." Tell me if it's a bustling castle or a gloomy castle or a rundown castle.

Don't just say "on the sea." Cold sea? Tropical sea? Far far away from land or is land in sight? These are the things I want!

Too Much Backstory

For the love of god do not explain the entire history of this culture in the first chapter. The first chapter is for getting to know the characters we're going to be following. You can introduce those things slowly and carefully as the story unfolds.

I get that fiction writers are delighted by all the worldbuilding (or research, in historical fiction) they have done. But the reader does not care right away. They need to get invested before all those little specifics matter at all. My eyes glaze over and I give up because I don't want to have to remember all of that all at once. It's like you just threw a college textbook at my face.

Plus, if you're doing third-person limited, you have to remember that the character is not going to be thinking all of that! They won't say all of that either! Because they know all of that!

Even a general on the brink of a major battle is not going to go "yes, this all dates back to when we took Iuanfutila back in 181, when the brave Iuanfutilans protested the rule of our Yawwbaawnwhryr leaders ...." They are focused on the present moment, and they may discuss the backstory later. Tell us what we need to know now because that is what the character would be thinking too.

"Oh, but Topazadine, how will the readers understand the context if I don't tell them??"

There's a battle. Two groups are at war. Or something was stolen. Or two people are fighting. Whatever. We understand those things. We can get the basic gist of how things are going to play out by just showing us these things happening. Then, as we have gotten a feel for the characters, you can tell us more about the context.

If you walk into a store that's being held up by an armed robber, do you give a shit about his backstory, or do you only care once that person has been arrested and you have to testify? I think we know the answer. You're not going "ohhh why is he doing this??" at first. You're going "HOLY SHIT THERE'S A GUN WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NOW???" and then you'll care about the other stuff later.

Too Much Play-by-Play

I also do not need a play by play of a fight scene. I need to know the general movements, and then the overall atmosphere. I want to feel what the character feels rather than feel like I'm watching a football game.

Your reader will fill in the gaps if you give them enough information, but when you overload them with every single action, they're now trying to keep track of what went where instead of how this moment is supposed to feel. And now the action and drama has gone out of the writing because it's become a manual of fighting techniques.

Pointless Dumb Conversations

"Oh, could you turn around for me? I want privacy."

"Sure, of course, I'm a respectable man." Manfred knew that a lady-in-waiting would be unsettled by the presence of a strange man, so he wanted to be respectful.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Oh my god no one cares!!! No one!! We don't need this exchange. Cut it. This is stupid. Unless something is actually happening or something is meaningful about them saying this, shut up.

How to Not Write a Horrible First Chapter That Makes People Ragequit

Can you tell I'm mad today? I started and stopped three different books because they were all so bad.

Three characters max in the first chapter, with deep discussion of each. (One or two is better.) General appearance, demeanor, profession, whatever.

Restrain the urge to infodump! Dribble it out over the chapter!

Give the setting more attention than random little details that ultimately do not matter. I don't need to know the pattern of the curtains on the horsecart that's about to be burnt. Don't care.

Do not give a play by play of every single action that a character takes because it's boring and no one cares.

In media res is great but do NOT start with a big climactic intense battle or fight or whatever because we don't know these characters and don't know who to root for (or why we should care).

Your character is not going to give us a history lesson in why this conflict is happening. Do not do it yourself either. Give us just enough to get intrigued and no more. Think how your characters would think and what they would prioritize in discussions.

If a conversation is just pleasantries and has no purpose, drop it, we don't care.

[kfedup]

Regretsy no more

Hey, y'all. It's the lurker here.

I've been in the funkiest of funkless funks for the past few months and over the past few weeks, I've been unpacking why. Seeing how much I'm isolating because of a constellation of health-related issues and generalized depression. Have been considering trying meds. But one thing keeps coming to the surface and I finally decided it's time to deal with it.

The one thing is the only thing in my life that I regret. That thing is never having finished my bachelor's degree.

I'm twice divorced, have lost several important friendships, and moved more times than I can count to places I didn't really want to live to maintain relationships I should have never entered in the first place, but I wouldn't trade any of those things. I don't feel regret about them. Why would I? I discovered who I am and who I am not because I experienced those things. Each of them allowed me to learn how to repair what's possible and how to let go of that which is complete.

I'm very good at this marketing copywriting work but I'm bored senseless. I want to challenge myself and taking online workshops is fine but it's just more interacting through a screen and lord love a duck, my spirit needs more. Plus, I am not using my gifts of communication, empathy, mirroring, and holding space for others in the way I know I am meant to use them. For two years I've felt like I'm wasting what's left of my life.

I am so afraid I will die full of this regret.

The cost has kept me from pulling the trigger on this dream for several years. I wish I started sooner, but clearly, I wasn't miserable enough yet. I'm well and truly stuck in the muck at the bottom of the lake about it now. There's nothing left to do but swim to the surface, so here I go.

Today I applied as a transfer student to the Psychology program at Kent State University to start classes this summer. It will probably take me 3 years to finish the 2 years I have left because I'm a single-income household and will have to work. I'm terrified I won't be able to manage both, but I hope I can rally.

I'm not sure if I'll continue on to get the Psych MA at KSU or go elsewhere to get an MA in Art Therapy after I finish the BA. I also want to get certified in Internal Family Systems therapy, so I'll be 63ish or older starting a new career as a therapist and I feel excited about my future for the first time in... well... I don't even know. A very long time.

I want a career that feels meaningful to me, helps people instead of businesses, and lets me use my gifts. One I can do until I'm dead because I'mma need to work until they're spreading my ashes.

I plan to take a class this summer to dip my toes in.

Holy shit, y'all. Lila will be a senior and I will be a junior on the same campus. She's so supportive and I've been crying happy-scared-overwhelmed-curious-excited tears all day.

Kelly's going back to college. Holy shit.

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 25

Despite the drizzle of rain we are still getting, I decided I'm going to work on my farm. It is a lighter rain today, so it will be the best weather to work in until it gets sunny again. It's been nearly a week and a half with rain and I don't know how much more everyone can stand it.

I figured I'll chop down a few more branches, clear some grass, move stones and maybe even hangout with my new chicks. I had asked Robin to build a coop for me and immediately bought 4 chicks from Marnie to fill it. They are a lot of work, but I love them so much.

I have also recovered from my total unconscious and battered state from the mines minus the scratches and bruises. My head has been feeling better and doesn't ache every single time I move. It just took a night or two of resting to recover. Harvey made me go see him for a few checkups but he told me I'm still in the clear.

I'm so glad I haven't had to water all my crops these past few days while I have been recovering, too. The rain has done all the work for me, thank Yoba. They are making good progress with growing this season, but there are way too many things growing that it's hard to keep up with watering them all. Plus my little project I had going on the side, that is a total waste of time now, is adding to the excessive watering. I thought about digging it all up the other night, but decided to cool it on that.

I decided I'll cut the tall grass to start, and make my way to getting rid of out-of-place tree branches to make the farm look cleaner. I have gotten a few decorations around the farm too such as scarecrows and potted plants that I can change out through the seasons.

I have accomplished so much on this farm, my grandpa would be so proud of me. I feel like a totally new person, and life is so much better living the farm life.

The rain falls down around me as I continue tidying the foliage. My clothes are plastered to my body, boots covered in mud, and hair a wet mess on my head even with my hat on. It's a bit of a warm rain, but eventually the wind picked up and chilled me to the bone. Being covered with water doesn't help, so I decided it's time to pop over into the coop to see my chicks.

I started walking south of the farm where I had asked for the coop to be built. That way it is out of my way for planting and farming. Plus I will eventually get a barn for some cows and thought to get it built somewhere near the coop down this way.

Just as I'm about to enter the coop, I see a familiar blonde walking up the south pathway right next to the coop. My face contorts into an obvious frown at her presence, unsure why she has the nerve to show up to my farm.

Before Haley takes another step, I realize she might see the project I was working on and I don't really want anyone to see it, especially her. I quickly scale the fence that's around the coop and jump around her, wrapping my hands around her eyes. Startled by the weird embrace, she brings her hands up and grips onto my forearms for balance.

"Danny, what are you doing?" she squeals. I started waddling us to the chicken coop, hands still covering her eyes, so we were sheltered from the rain and so she couldn't see what I was up to.

When we finally entered the coop, I let go of her and took several steps back from her. I don't really feel like talking to her, let alone being in her presence. The little chicks are swarming around our feet, trying to get attention.

"What are you doing here?" I huff as I start getting hay out to feed the chicks. They don't like going outside in the rain so I stuff as much hay as I can into the trough.

"I wanted to talk to you-" Haley begins.

"What could you possibly have to say to me? You made your choice so you should stick with it. You shouldn't be here," I cut her off angrily. I see her arms wrap behind her back and she looks down sadly.

"Can you let me say someth-" She starts again.

"I don't even know why I brought you in here. I should've just turned you around and walked you back home. It's a shitty day out and I don't understand why you thought walking over here would be a good idea. Look you got your shoes muddy," I shout while sticking my hand out to point at her shoes. Her cute Mary Janes had their soles covered with mud. I don't know why I felt like pointing it out, but I just had so much to say to her.

"I don't care about that. I just had some time to think about what I wanted to tell you-" she tries again. I keep cutting her off.

"Why did you have to think about things? Did he break things off between you guys again and you are back to whining to me? I have every right to be mad at you, you've been playing with my feelings this whole time I have been here. Then right after we seemingly had a life changing moment together, you run off with a man. You can't tell me every moment we had together from running into each other at Pierre's, the Flower Festival, Marnie's, and the Luau, that we didn't have a little bit more than 'just friends' going on? Are you trying to hurt me, Haley? It was really hard to think we were just friends from the way you always look at me. But yet you still RAN OFF WITH A MAN after leading me on. That's really low of you," I rant while throwing my arms all around. I didn't have anything planned out on what I was going to say to her if I saw her, so I am kind of free-balling. My heart is doing a lot of the talking.

"Not to mention you didn't even come by to make sure I was okay. Did you know that I nearly died in those mines the other day? I was unconscious, Haley. It took several days for my headache to pass and these cuts and bruises will still be here for Yoba knows how long. Did you even notice all of the damage or are you too wrapped up in your own life to worry about others?" I continued on, angrily.

A moment of silence passes between us. However, the chicks are going wild still at our feet, filling that silence with little cheeps. I see her chest rising and falling heavily as she takes deep breaths. To let her know I'm done talking, I bend down and sit with the chicks on the floor. They all doggy pile into my lap, letting me pet them all gently on the head.

"I understand you have every right to be mad at me. I don't blame you for it," she takes a seat across from me on the ground causing a few of the chicks to run over to her for attention. "I just felt something in the air telling me to come here today. I felt it in my gut as well that I needed to talk to you, but I didn't want to do it too soon. I wanted to give you a few days before I forced you into my presence again," she chuckles nervously, but my eyes shoot daggers at her causing her to stop.

"The other night with Alex wasn't what I think you thought it was," she brings her hands up and waves them defensively.

"You sure about that?" I raise my eyebrow at her, knowing full well what I saw the other night.

She clears her throat nervously before proceeding, "Well... it might have... started out that way. But believe me when I say I didn't WANT to be doing that. I was just...confused and angry and went back to what I knew and-"

"Oh so you DID do what I thought," I interrupt.

She frowns at me and continues with what she was saying, "-and Alex got a telephone call. I picked up because he was in the other room. It was...a guy. His name is Taylor. Taylor and Alex are...um...more than friends," She stammers.

I suddenly sat up straighter after hearing this information, my brows raised in surprise.

"Alex had heard the phone ring and burst in. He saw me standing by the phone and knew that I knew. We had a big long talk between the two of us, clearing some things up and giving each other advice. Actually it was more like he gave me advice," she fumbles with her fingers, not looking me in the eyes. "So that's part of the reason I came here," she continued.

Trying to process everything I just heard, I lean back on my hands and squint my eyes in disbelief. "So what I'm hearing is that you guys WOULD'VE had sex if it wasn't for Taylor calling?"

"Oh my Yoba. The talk Alex and I had was ABOUT YOU!" She adjusts herself onto her knees, while taking a chick into her arms.

"And...?" I question, wanting more explanation.

"And I like you Danny! I reallllyy like you.," she whines in a breathy tone. "I wanted Alex to be YOU the whole night. I wanted US to leave the saloon together and do naughty things. I wanted to be by YOUR side all night and pressed up against YOU on the couch. I never liked Alex. He never liked me. We were just trying to suppress our true feelings by using each other as cover." Everytime she emphasized a word, she would jab her hand towards me. As soon as she finished her little rant, she moved her hands to her hair and smoothed her hair down, scared of what I'll say. I watch as her breathing picks up, her chest rapidly rising up and down now with each quick breath.

I let the silence fall over us once again, this time even the chicks were quiet. There was so much to process all of a sudden, my brain was working over time. I could only stare at her with wide eyes.

"And of course I noticed you all roughed up. I notice everything about you. I did know you were in the clinic as well...you just didn't see me. I came to visit through the night when you were still unconscious. I told Harvey not to tell you I came by because I didn't want you to be mad. I had to make sure you were okay and check up on you. You are always running through my mind whether you know it or not," she gives me a wary smile as she is still waiting for what I have to say to her confession.

"I-..." No words come to mind when I go to say something. I'm so flustered that my brain has decided to cut out on me.

"Are you okay..?" she asks.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to hear you say that," I say breathlessly. Neither of us dare to move from our spots.

"I understand that everything I've said doesn't justify my actions, but I hope it helped even just a little bit. If you are still mad at me I get it," she looks down at the chicks and sadly pets one on the head.

"How can I keep being mad at someone with such a pretty face?" I smirk as my eyes travel around the details of her face, causing her to blush. She makes it so hard to be mad at her and I shouldn't have broke as fast as I did. I should've let her stir in my anger, but her whole confession had my heart absolutely pounding. Oh how badly I just want to kiss her right now.

"I have to get back home now...before it starts pouring. If you have anything else to say or...anything... you know where I live," she kind of hesitates before getting up from the floor. Still mind boggled and speechless, I stupidly let her walk out of the coop.

"Don't turn around and look at my farm on your way back," is all I could stupidly say before she is out of earshot.

She turns to smile at me and cups her hands around her eyes so she can't see from her peripherals.

Stupid stupid stupid, I mentally kick myself for being such an idiot and not making some kind of move.

I lay back onto the floor of the coop in utter foolishness. I stare up at the low ceiling as the chicks use me as their personal playground.

[ivoryghostyy]

— meet Cirius

「 image is not mine. it's sourced from pinterest. 」

「 note: look who's back after not posting for idfk how long. but hey, here's a fic, plus a new layout! haha... i have so much to edit, but anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this little idea i've pulled straight out of my ass. man, i could not get it out of my head. so, uh, have fun ig. 'til next time. buh-bye! 」

「 tw: swearing, mentions/implications of violence, threatening, obsession, manipulation, etc. 」

—————————————————————————————————

human emotions are fickle, but for Cirius, they're practically a foreign concept. dull faces accompanied him wherever he went. they would bother him, talk to him, and feign interest. no mask, however, could completely cover the rotting desires humans hide.

it confuses him, really, but what can he do? if they entertain him, then playing along wouldn't hurt anyone. otherwise, he'd probably die of boredom. besides, he has a reputation to keep. lashing out would only destroy his own facade.

university wasn't doing him any good either, despite his well-maintained rank. he's perfect, and every single one of them could see that. they praise him, and they raise him onto a pedestal. it's nothing new, not interesting at all. his eyes don't spare any of them a glance.

so imagine his surprise when he comes across you. it was onky a brief moment—barely even a second—but he saw it. you weren't hidden in a shroud of grey clouds, you were the embodiment of the sun. your eyes sparkled brighter than any gem he had ever seen. and he's seen a lot of gems, so that says a lot.

you're.. different. and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued. how did he miss someone like you? he hummed, a finger tapping the fabric of his sleeve. a new student, perhaps? but why would anyone transfer so late into the year?

you scurried away before he could say anything. ah, he should have atleast gotten your name... but it's alright. his fingers weave through the soft knots of his light pink hair, a cold smile creeping onto his plush lips.

it doesn't take much to find you and your entire history. goodness, he should've found you sooner. you've been living like this for your entire life? you're barely able to keep yourselves afloat. he's exaggerating. the more he learns about you, and the more he watches you, the deeper he falls into the dark pit of obsession.

don't worry, he'll take care of everything. his darling wife deserves the best and only the best, after all. he'll talk to his parents and arrange a dinner with his future family-in-law your parents, throw in a few lies here, a few threats there, and it's smooth sailing towards your engagement.

surely, you'll agree, right? even if you don't, do you really have a choice? anything he wants, he will have. and you? you're no exception.

you pace through the bustling halls, weaving through the chattering human barricades as they march into another boring lecture. contrary to the relaxed pace of these students, however, you're scrambling to reach your own destination: the library.

since you're free for this period, you thought you'd take the time to look around the grand library. really, this is the only reason you tried so hard to get into such a prestigious school. your family wasn't well-off, but earn enough to keep a delicious meal on your plate and a sturdy roof above your head.

the polished doubledoors creak open, and without wasting another second, you're already scanning book-lined shelves. the forgotten book of herbal remedies, the book of lies, 101 ways to hide a body... wait, what?

deciding not to question it, you finally find a good novel to read. to nobody's surprise, it's dark romance because of course it is. happily, you sink into a comfy bean bag this makes me kinda jealous and lose yourself within the pages, ignorant to brown eyes watching your every move.

a shadow looms over you, and you barely have any time to react before you're pulled into a lean chest, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

"wh-"

"there you are, my precious wife!"

your brain is barely processing the situation. what is he talking about? who is he talking about? it takes a around a minute before you've pulled yourself back, landing not-so gracefully onto the bean bag that you were just sitting on a moment before.

"sorry, i think you may have the wrong person," you say, firmly.

you've never seen this man in your life, who the hell does he think he is? what did he call you? his wife? he better be joking. he's either mistaken or insane. probably the latter, hun. he's insanely in love with you.

"how could i mistake you for anyone else?"

and now he's pulling you along to his fancy car, talking about how he'll introduce you to his parents because apparantly, he's already talked to them about the wedding and-

what do you mean he's talked to your parents!? and they didn't tell you anything!? that's because he threatened them with your safety, but you don't have to know that.

the worst part? you left your book at the library!

could it be any worse? yes, it could. after dinner with your supposed parents-in-law, you pull him aside. he's happy to follow you, anticipating anything you have to say. are you excited too? he's already imagining all the fun you'll have together. cuddling with you, holding your hand, going on dates, spending the rest of his life with you-

"i'm sorry, but i'm not marrying you."

"..good joke, honey."

you're not joking? he falls silent. you've already left by the time he came back to his senses, and he's never felt emptier in his life. how do you think this man—someone who had been given everything he could ever need; who could have the whole world served on a silver platter if he asked—will face the rejection of the single person he's genuinely fallen head over heels for?

it's safe to say that his ego is absolutely bruised. don't even get me started on his heart. words cannot describe the world-shattering devestation he felt. no, he wouldn't stand for this. he's never taken no for an answer, and he certainly isn't starting now.

you will be with him, and he doesn't care if he has to shatter your legs just to make sure you never leave. let's hope it never comes to that, though. he quite likes it when you smile, but he supposedly wouldn't mind seeing you cry, either.

within the next few months, it's like the world is crumbling. your parents lose their jobs, your grades are suddenly dropping, you can barely earn enough from your part-time job to keep food on your plates—it's a mess.

you're struggling, and he knows it.

when you're at your lowest point, he'll pay you a visit. pitiful darling, you know he can make it all go away, right? he'll help you. like a demon tempting to grant your deepest, darkest desire.

"shh, don't cry, sweetheart," he'll take care of you.

don't worry, honey, he can make it all go away. it's not difficult to give you back all that he took away. everything you've lost can be placed right back onto your gorgeous little palm.

but at what cost?

your body.

your soul.

your mind.

your everything.

don't you see, honey? he would do anything for you. new clothes? he'll buy the entire mall. need a better house? how about a mansion? want the moon? he'll do his best to get it for you, no questions asked. you could have everything you could ever want and more.

it's a generous offer, lovely. all he asks for, in return, is that you give up. you were his the moment he saw you, and that might have been the biggest mistake of your life.

say yes, honey. it's the only option you have.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Wasting Love, Kirk Hammett

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Angst, bittersweet pining

Word count: 4269

Tw: mention of sex, groupies, that rockstar life™ etc. You also kind of sleep around so maybe kind of OOC to you, but the whole song is about one night stands and sex that doesn’t involve feelings, so cry about it <3 For a fic about sex, it sure lacks actual sex and smut. This is just angst revolving around sex, so I’m sorry to my horny readers :( Mentions of drugs/being drugged (doesn’t happen in the story, but it gets mentioned) and use of alcohol. Swearing, Luna’s favourite swear word fuck <3

Summary: Touring with Metallica brought unnecessary talks about groupies and their nights spent together. And it shouldn’t have bothered you, had you not been head over heels for Kirk. When you see him sneaking out of an hotel room one night, you finally break.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Maybe one day I'll be an honest man. Up 'til now I'm doing the best I can.”

There were so many great things about touring with Metallica: you saw a little bit of the world, met many amazing fans, had fun company and you didn’t have to pay for much. It did come as a plus that you had known James as long as you had. He had, after all, been the one who had managed to get you to be the one to tune the guitars, basses and make sure their amplifiers were working correctly. It was a job that technically only had to be done 2 to 3 hours before the band had to go up on stage, so there was plenty of time for you to enjoy your time in a new city.

The single awful thing about travelling with Metallica: learning a lot more about their private life than you would have actually liked. It was no secret that rockstars had their local groupies, but the time spent with them would continue to baffle you. The worst part of it all were the ineffable feelings that had begun to grow towards a certain guitarist. You didn’t know if he was oblivious or did it out of spite (which would have been way worse), but each time you couldn’t come on the bus or knock on hotel doors because of… well, activities, your heart broke a little bit more.

You should have anticipated this from the start. James had kindly warned you about it, which had been an awkward conversation at first, but you truly thought you could handle it. But when they weren’t busy, they were talking about their nights, bragging about it as if you weren’t sitting right there. What hadn’t helped the situation was that James knew about your whole situation, so the usual comments he’d throw towards his band members had lessened significantly. Especially when Kirk had something to throw in.

“Long roads, long days. Of sunrise to sunset, of sunrise to sunset.”

You had been good friends with all of them for years, so they never really considered you as an outsider to their conversations. Initially, it had led to great talks, but now all they really brought was sorrow. And Kirk seemed perfectly happy in his situation, often talking about how this was so much better than a relationship, because no feelings could be hurt. After that, you could never really find it in yourself to find a move on him.

So, you let yourself get caught up in their lives too. After all, with the involvement the band gave you, many fans had laid their eyes on you as well. If they could find their joy and liberty in sex, you might as well. No feelings attached, just brief hook-ups and nights spent in other hotel rooms. You didn’t know what hurt most: the fact you found little relief in it, or the fact no one seemed bothered you had been sleeping around. When you casually mentioned it once, the band seemed to almost cheer for you, claiming it was good that you found some pleasure as well. You had hoped for that slight shift in Kirk’s posture, or a tiny twitch in his eyes, but nothing.

James hadn’t talked with you about it. He just figured you had moved on. In all honesty, he was too busy as well to properly have a conversation about emotions, actions and feelings. You didn’t want to burst his bubble.

“Dream on, brothers, while you can. Dream on, sisters, I hope you find the one.”

Thus, you continued the tour as you usually did. Some days you’d hang out with the band, other days you’d discover cities on your own. Besides your pining, you and Kirk had been close friends as well, so it wasn’t unusual for you to go to bars together or explore backstreets with just the two of you. But the longer the tour wore on, the more uncomfortable it had gotten. Ever since you had shared your experiences, it seemed to only fuel their… private talks. None showed shame in it, and none noticed that that fake laugh you had been putting up was getting weaker by the day.

You didn’t know how many weeks you had been on tour now or how many shows had been played. You didn’t even really know in which city you were, nor who was the name of the person in the bed next to you. When you had gotten changed and realised they were still sleeping, you couldn’t even tell what time it had been.

You had stumbled out of the unknown hotel room, hair messy and clothes lazily thrown on. It wasn’t as if you were going to run into anyone important during this hour. Except, it did.

By the time you rounded the corner, you found Kirk sneaking out of another room, seemingly in a similar state to what you had been in. Your heart shattered all over again at the sight, but you swallowed it down. When he noticed you, he fumbled with his pants, giving you a goofy grin and a short wave. You hadn’t even noticed you had frozen, your eyes glued on the red marks on his neck. However, you snapped out of it quickly, copying his wave before walking the other way. You couldn’t recall where your room was. You didn’t really want to find it now. Somehow, that sheer sight managed to get you more worked up than it should have.

“All of our lives, covered up quickly. By the tides of time.”

The elevator took too long to reach your floor, so you opted for the stairs after waiting for a full five seconds. All you really wanted to do right now is find a secluded space where you could just sink to the ground and cry. For a really long time.

The only logical place in your head ran to the lobby downstairs. They would have enough bathroom stalls for you to simply collapse there and have a good crying session. When you were done, you could recollect your thoughts. The idea of it sounded so nice. However, by the time you came downstairs, you were simply too exhausted to do anything else but collapse on the nearest chair and just stare blankly at the wall. It was still dark outside, the only thing illuminating the streets being the streetlights and occasional cars. You only saw them from the corner of your eyes, your head still straight towards the empty green wall in front of you.

You could have sat there for hours, and you wouldn’t have known. It probably wasn’t. When you were done staring, you spotted a clock, seeing the pointers on two and six. You didn’t reach the hotel until one, so you couldn’t have sat there for hours. It felt like it, though.

You didn’t want to move. Not really. You just felt incredibly numb now. You should have just mentioned everything at the beginning. You shouldn’t have been such a pussy and should have made a move years ago. You shouldn’t have joined this tour. You could have known this going into it. It was a mistake. This was terrible.

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

In a fit of frustration, you throw the heels in your hands across the room, sick and tired of holding them the entire time. You watched as they bounced on the floor, before coming to halt in an almost cinematic shot. When they stilled, your hands balled up into fists. These heels were gorgeous to look at. You remembered picking them out this night. They went perfect with your outfit and simply looked stunning. You remembered the reason why you had put them on: you were going to a bar with the band. And you looked breathtaking. These were the heels that seemed to ooze sex and ask for attention. Of course these had to be the heels you had worn for him. He had told you how much he loved them when starting the tour. When unpacking your wardrobe, he had casually wandered in and went through your shoes, and these were the ones special enough for him to mention. You had worn them for him. And he left with some chick, leaving you wallowing in self pity in the bed of a stranger.

Fuck those heels.

You couldn’t even properly formulate why it had devastated you as much as it had. He didn’t seem interested in you, so you began to pick up on his lifestyle. You hadn’t even done it in an effort to make him jealous or glue his eyes to you - no; you simply needed the distraction from him. And you were so convinced you were going to find it in the bed of another, but you didn’t.

All his stupid fault. No one told him he had to be so damn desirable and kind. In all truth, you were convinced he couldn’t even see how much it bothered you. You couldn’t tell if that made him a bad friend, or you a bad friend. Probably both. All you knew was that, if it wasn’t for him, you’d be perfectly happy where you were.

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

The longer you remained stuck on your own thoughts, the harder it became to suppress the huge lump in your throat. The urge to cry resurfaced, and you could have cursed yourself for getting so wound up for some guy.

The tears had already gathered in your eyes as you scanned the room, looking for anyone nearby. When you couldn’t find them, the first drop fell down. Resting your elbows on your knees, you leaned forward, sobbing into your hands, repeatedly muttering the word ‘stupid’.

All you really felt now was just anguish, pain, anger and embarrassment. A silent longing for home filled you as you mourned the comfort of your own bed, and the hugs of those you couldn’t take on tour with you. You could use a hug from anyone who had nothing to do with Metallica.

But fate wouldn’t have you sit there weeping on your own. During the tour, you had felt truly secluded when you needed company, but the one moment you simply wished to be alone, you wouldn’t be.

“Dream on, brothers, while you can. Dream on, sisters, I hope you find the one.”

You hadn’t heard him walking down the stairs nor had you heard the sound of the elevator, but you could feel his presence suddenly beside you. And his stupid cologne. That damn thing never seemed to wear off.

You looked up at him in a mixture of annoyance and sadness, holding your hands flat out, not trusting your voice to speak for you. His face softened as he noticed your tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, kneeling down to come eye level with you. The gesture made your heart flutter, even when you least wanted him to be there.

“What are you doing here?” He asked confused, though his voice was gentle all the same. You snorted unflatteringly, simply not caring for his opinion now. “Couldn’t find my room.” You shrugged, wiping stray tears off your face. Then, your eyes fell on your knees, refusing to meet his eyes.

Kirk was silent for a while, one of his hands resting on your thighs, the notion nearly lighting your skin on fire. “You okay?” He questioned, rubbing the skin soothingly. Successfully catching your attention, your eyes met his once more. When you didn’t answer him, he frowned, now looking at your face as if he was searching: “Did he drug you or something?”

Curse him to be concerned when you just wanted to shout at him. You didn’t have the energy to do it, though. He just needed to leave you alone. “No. I’m fine.” You answered, hoping it was enough to get him to leave.

It wasn’t.

“All of our lives, covered up quickly. By the tides of time.”

“You sure?” He went on, his hand leaving your thigh; a touch you didn’t know you would miss so soon. He forced a small smile, trying to lighten the situation: “I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t cry after sex.”

Yes, well, it didn’t lighten everything. It made it worse. The remark came as a dull stab in the heart to you, and you couldn’t suppress the hidden mumble under your breath. “Yeah, you wouldn’t.”

Thankfully, he didn’t catch that. And if he did, he didn’t respond to it. “I’m not drugged,” You assured him. “And I’m not drunk.” “You did drink a lot.” Kirk countered, though the humour had vanished from his face when you didn’t laugh at his remark. You’d always laugh at his words, even if they weren’t that funny. His words didn’t try to make fun of the situation anymore. It was genuine worry now.

“Trust me, it wore off.” You dismissed, running a hand through your hair as you forced yourself to sit upright. Kirk stood up as you did so, holding his hand out in front of him, ready to catch you if you were to fall. When you didn’t, he looked around before looking back at you: “I’m gonna get you something to drink,” Then, he pointed to your seat. “Stay here.”

He took off to the nearest vending machine, fishing for some loose change in his barely buttoned up pants. “Kirk, I’m fine.” You called after him, but he waved his hand in a dismissive manner, now typing in a number. You simply watched him do so, your face set in a scowl as you whispered a hushed ‘fuck you’.

“Sands are flowing and the lines are in your hand. In your eyes I see the hunger, and the desperate cry that tears the night.”

He returned with a bottle of water, handing it you as you begrudgingly opened it and began to drink. “You have room 403,” Kirk’s voice called as he sat down next to you. “You’re next to James, who has 405, and opposite of me: 402.” You just hummed at him, no longer interested to hold another conversation with him. You just wanted to curl up in a warm bed that wasn’t shared with anyone.

“That bad of a night, huh?” He commented as you gave him the half-finished bottle. “It’s not funny.” You deadpanned, doing your best to keep your breathing steady as you stood up. Again, Kirk tried to loosen the tension, though unsuccessfully: “Trust me, I know.” He stood up with you, his eyes still on your figure. You gave him a slight side-eye, shaking your head: “Yeah, I don’t think you do.”

Unsure of what to answer to that, he simply decided to follow you to the elevator. You didn’t speak to him during the short walk through the hall. You always talked with him. Any moment you could, really. It’s why he liked hanging around you so much. Even as you halted in front of the elevator doors, you said nothing.

“Are you alright?” Kirk tried again. “Like, really?” Inhaling sharply, you forced the newly formed tears back, the question cutting you so deeply, you had to do your best to not fall apart right there and right then. “Absolutely not.” You answered honestly, giving him a sarcastic grin before glueing your eyes on the pending floors above the elevator doors. Floor seven. It would take some time before it would get to the lobby.

Again, his hand found your skin, now softly settling on your shoulder. You now noticed he had carried your heels in his other hand, the shoes dangling from them in some sort of sick poetic way. “You know you can talk to me, right?” He went on, new words that pierced through you. But, once more, you forced yourself to keep it together, instead widening your eyes slightly as you spoke mocking words to yourself, aloud: “Oh, that couldn’t be further from the truth.” “That’s bullshit,” Kirk countered. “You can tell me anything.”

Turning around sharply, you pointed your finger at him, the gesture causing his grip to falter on you: “I don’t have to tell you jack shit.” Holding his hands up in defense, his eyebrows furrowed together. “What did I do?” “Nothing,” You replied quickly, unable to resist the slight choke in your voice as a stray tear slipped down your cheek. “You did absolutely nothing. You’re so fucking perfect, how could you ever do something wrong?”

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

The furrow in his eyebrows left, now slightly raised in concern:“Are you sure you’re not drunk?” A painful smile etched upon your face at that, speaking a little inside prayer of relief as the elevator doors finally opened. “Fuck you, Hammett.” You muttered, stepping into the cabin, reaching for the ‘close doors’ button. When they began to slide, Kirk’s hand quickly shot between them, forcing the doors back open: “No, wait.”

You tried your best to ignore him, a pounding headache already forming in agony. “Hey,” He spoke gently. “At least let me walk you to your room. I’m going that way, anyway.” “No offense, but I’d rather be alone now.” You denied, furiously rubbing the tear from your face. At the notion, you could see his expression change slightly. You didn’t want him to feel sorry feel you, but something in his eyes simply made you melt on the spot. “I don’t think that is a great idea.” He offered, holding out his hand again to stall the elevator. Now, annoyance came back into your system.

“Smell my breath, Kirk,” You spoke angrily, blowing breath his way. “There is no more liquor on my tongue. In fact, there are all kinds of things on my tongue now that I couldn’t even taste any alcohol even if I were to throw up. Some trust would look great on you.” “I trust you,” He persuaded, ignoring your innuendo as he stepped into the elevator. “Drunk or not, if you collapse onto the floor for whatever reason, I don’t like to leave you there.”

You crossed your arms at his words, slightly moved by it, but not enough to let all that anguish fade. “How romantic.” You mumbled sarcastically, watching him punch in the number to your floor. Maybe it was for the best he was so adamant on joining you. You didn’t know what floor your room was on.

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

Floor eleven. Your room was on floor eleven. The silence was deafening. You didn’t know what you preferred: his constant worrying or the space you were in right now. It was on floor three when you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Without any warning, a choked sob escaped you as new tears escaped your eyes. God, you hated being in the same elevator as him after finding him in the situation he was in only minutes ago. He was the one who could cheer you up, but at the moment, he was doing nothing but ruining you and he didn’t even know it.

Alerted by your sudden sobbing, he turned to face you. “Hey, it’s okay.” He tried to soothe, walking up to you as he pulled you into his arms. The action was enough to cause you to break down even more. It simply felt so right - so comfortable. “No, it’s not,” You wept into his shirt. “I don’t think it will be.” His hands found your back, rubbing soothing patterns onto it. You hated all of it. You hated how much you longed for it.

“You're worrying me now,” He spoke, his head resting atop yours as you gripped onto his shirt tightly. His heart had begun to sink as his head started to assume the worst case scenarios. What could have possibly happened that had shaken you up this much? There were enough things he could think of and none of them were pleasant. “What’s going on with you?”

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

You tried to calm yourself down, forcing you out of his hold as you stared at the ceiling, sniffling desperately. “Sleeping around is awful.” You confessed, a heavy sigh escaping your throat at the words, your eyes casting back down in front of you. Kirk hummed at your words, nodding in understanding: “Sometimes.” “No; all of the time,” You protested, rubbing your hands over your arms in anxiety. “It feels good for five seconds, if I even get that, and then it’s just humiliation and embarrassment.”

He didn’t know what to say about that. Sure, he has had terrible experiences, but he would be lying if he said he hated all of them. “I’m sorry,” He offered, feeling genuine remorse for you. You knew it was genuine. You knew him good enough to know when he was lying or not. And even though he was the main cause for your sadness, he was also one of your closest friends. And you needed someone to talk to: “I just want the distraction.”

You didn’t look at him as you said that, but you could feel his gaze change into that of remorse. The way he had looked at you earlier was in worry. Now, he just felt sorry for you. Both of them were appreciated. And they both amplified your emotions.

“I want to go home,” You finally sighed as the elevator reached the eleventh floor. “I can’t do this.” Stepping out of the cabin, you could hear Kirk halting for a second before he followed you. From here, it was easy to read the numbers. 388. 390. 392. You knew your room was close.

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

“Are you sure?” Kirk asked, his voice more quiet than it had been earlier. You didn’t know what to make of it. “No,” You answered honestly, grabbing the blank key card from your pocket as you reached door 403. “But the last past days have just been getting worse and worse, and I don’t think I can-“ Your voice hitched as you forced the sob down, now opening your door. You wanted to tell him. You needed to tell him. Even if he would hate it. And you were too caught up in your sadness to think straight now: “I don’t think I can spend another day watching you bang some chick and pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

Moments of silence passed as you almost watched Kirk shut down. He didn’t move, he didn’t say anything. His expression didn’t change. There was nothing in his features that could make you decipher any sort of reaction to what you had just said. And it broke your heart into a million little pieces.

Grabbing your heels from his absent hands, you threw it in your hall, your expression softening: “It’s not your fault, Kirk,” You tried to reassure. “You’re famous, enjoy it. I hope you find someone some day.”

But, once more, there was nothing you could see on him that made loose any sort of reaction. You just nodded at him, a sorrowful smile forcing its way up: “We never had this conversation. Ignore me for all I care. I’m going home tomorrow.” And with that, you closed the door, leaving him out there. The second the securing of the lock was heard, you threw your head against the wall. In any scenario you had imagined yourself confessing to him, you would have never expected him to freeze. And somehow, that was the worst reaction.

“Spend your days full of emptiness. Spend your years full of loneliness.”

Emotionlessly, you sauntered to the bed in the middle of the room, throwing your body onto it, no longer finding any energy to change or even just get your clothes off. Everything felt heavy. Your eyes were glued to the lights outside, unable to do anything but simply stare.

A hesitant knock brought you back to reality, followed by a muffled voice: “Don’t go tomorrow.” You didn’t have anything left in you that told you to cry at his voice. Perhaps that was for the best. Swallowing thickly, you filled the silence in the room: “Why?” Another beat of silence. This one longer than the previous one. “I’ll miss you.”

You closed your eyes, trying to convince yourself that leaving was definitely for the best. It was. “You can always call me.” You proposed weakly. You were so tired. So tired, yet not tired enough to sleep. Staring would have to do. “Would you answer?” You didn’t respond to that.

“Please, stay.” Once more, you didn’t answer. You couldn’t. It was almost as if your voice had simply failed on you. All you could really do was stare.“Just for one more day.”

When he realised he wasn’t getting an answer, he nodded, even though you couldn’t see his face. “Okay,” He tried to understand. Then, he grabbed the second key card to his room, leaning down to slide it under the door. You could hear the shuffling, and through the neon lights from outside, you could see the key card making its way into your hall. “In case you want to talk.” He offered. Another beat of silence, followed by a sigh you could hear from your bed.

“Goodnight.”

“Wasting love, in a desperate caress. Rolling shadows of nights.”

[televisionlassie]

The reason I find Jason to be boring is because people are so scared to hold him accountable. You can’t claim to like anti-hero’s or claim that Jason is an anti-hero if you’re going to excuse everything that makes him an ANTI-hero.

There is no doubt in my mind that I would like him a whole lot more if people accepted him as a character that does bad things. I understand he has trauma and his own reasons but trauma is only an explanation, not an excuse. While I like consuming content of the batfamily being a family, when it’s not based in pretty much an entirely different universe it doesn’t make any sense.

Pretty much all of the batfamily (except Bruce because he’s can actually be pretty awful to Jason) has reasons to hate or be mad at Jason.

Jason went out in a Nightwing outfit and killed people to try and ruin Dick’s image, and all the shit he’s done to Dicks other siblings. You really think Dick would just be cool with the fact that Jason beat one of his little brothers and shot another one?

Cass has a moral code probably stricter than Batman, she would HATE Jason for killing. And again same thing with the siblings.

Tim I just don’t understand why he would ever forgive Jason. Jason beat the absolute shit out of him, plus you gotta admit that guy is too much of a cocky bitch to ever just forgive and forget

Unfortunately I can’t say much about Steph as I can’t think of a single time where they actually interacted in canon. But I don’t think she would be too fond of the guy who beat up her best friend and shot Damian.

Duke I think has had one personal interaction with Jason and while it wasn’t too friendly I don’t think he would hold that big of a grudge.

Damian I think would be more understanding but it’s hard to forget how he was shot by Jason and had to have his SPINE replaced because of Jason.

I’m not trying to hate on Jason, he honestly makes me sad because he is filled with wasted potential. It’s not even that they never make him do bad things, it’s that there’s never any lasting consequences.

Many times when I see people who hate on Jason they bring in the death penalty argument, which as much as I hate and believe is stupid, still has some tiny bit of validity. The reason it sucks is because the world of DC comics is not even remotely similar to our real life. Criminals in real life don’t have plant powers or convoluted plans to distribute their weird ass poisonous gas. If they did, they wouldn’t even spend a night in jail because they would be shot on the spot. If Jason did just kill these types of criminals, then he would not be considered an anti-hero, just a hero. But that’s the thing, Jason doesn’t just kill the Joker, or the Riddler or any of the Rogues, he kills the type of criminals we would see in our real lives. THAT is where the validity lies in that argument, it’s not just that Jason is killing supervillains but that he is killing the type of people that we are fighting against the death penalty for. Obviously this argument means nothing to you if you are pro-death penalty but I just wanted to explain.

Jason would be so interesting if he was treated like the character he is supposed to be. A young traumatized person who does bad things for the right reasons but still has to face the consequences.

And if people really want to give him a character arc where he eventually stops killing, it shouldn’t just be he gets tried of killing or tired of arguing with Bruce, but that he sees how his way of crime-fighting can do more harm than good.

It’s just so frustrating to see how people just act accept anti-heros for what they are. It like people are so scared of making or admitting a character to be immoral, that they just erase the consequences of their bad actions to make it excusable.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my rant, Jason Todd fans this wasn’t me hating on your babygirl, I’m trying to help you.

[joonslfttiddie]

The Underclassman

💜Fic Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

💜AU/Genre: College AU | Smut | Potential Relationship

💜Warnings: Smut, femdom, male sub, climax denial, unprotected sex, ejaculation, virgin's first time

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 4781

Senior year of undergrad has had its challenges but you know it's downhill from here. Having gotten a jump on your assignments, you're pretty much skating through until graduation. Your only obligations are your teaching assistant tasks for Dr. Yun's psychology class, your job at the bookstore, and a few organizations on campus.

While things have been chill regarding course work, this year has also shown you who has your best interest at heart and who is just a waste of space in your life. Depending on how you look at things, fortunately or unfortunately, that meant that your ex-boyfriend was one of the people to exit your world. The two of you had been together since freshman year, and it has not been easy adjusting to the single life.

You haven't been on a date since, and just looking at other men still feels wrong. Your ex was always the jealous, controlling type who made it hard to breathe, as you walked on eggshells around him, which made you feel powerless.

"Honestly, I never liked your ex. It felt like all of your time was owed to him... like he owned you. You deserve so much better than him."

Your friend, René, opens up to you during a night of chilling at your apartment, sitting in a circle, cross legged in the middle of your living room floor. Your other friends, Michelle and Ticole, just shake their heads in agreement before taking a sip of their beers.

"I know, I know. You're right. I can see now how devoted I was to him. I was willing to give him everything I had. Of course, we now know he was giving his time, amongst other things, to someone else...but it's whatever."

Michelle chimes in, "It is whatever. This is our senior year. I just want you to take your time to find yourself again. Get out! Date! Enjoy your hoe phase. Plus, my boyfriend's mentee asks me about you every time I see him. That boy is in love."

"Girl, who? Seokjin?! I catch him eyeing me every other day in Dr. Yun's class but he has yet to say anything to me sooooo....."

"Don't do him like that...He is so sweet but so shy. He's one of those guys that's hot but doesn't know he's hot."

You all erupt into laughter and as the excitement subsides you agree.

"You're right, he is so cute but I never really looked at him like that. He has been such a sweetheart every time I've interacted with him but I dunno if he's my type, you know? Hell, he still refers to me as 'ma'am', like, I literally only have a couple of years on him, if that."

"He mentioned to Chance that he was not the best looking guy in high school. He was bullied because he was so skinny, had bad acne, braces, and glasses.. the usual "nerd" package. I, legit, don't think he realizes that puberty has come and gone. I wonder if he just doesn't have the confidence to approach you."

"Hmm... that would make sense. I hate that he went through all that. He seems so sweet despite being mistreated. I'll think about it, ok? But as far as 'enjoying my hoe phase' goes, guys fuck around all the time and no one bats an eye. I hate the double standard. I'm going to have the time of my life for the rest of the year. I deserve it, plus I've been horny as fuck, lately."

"Girl, go for it! I support this. Live your best life, friend. You've missed out on a lot being tied down like a married woman. Go get you some. And you never know, having that underclassman screaming 'yes, ma'am' may be just what you need!" Ticole says, co-signing with Michelle.

You all erupt into a fit of laughter at that and you take notice of the way your body feels from just imagining it. As heat burns up your spine and your pussy tingles, you swallow spit as you're basically salivating with excitement. Knowing what will make for some good material when you're alone later, you reply with a nervous chuckle, "Maybe, huh?"

Your girls were right! You're going to start putting yourself out there and try to be more open minded. After a restful night and having used mental images of Seokjin to gain a little post nut clarity, you begin to think that you may even explore people outside of your typical type. Internalizing all the encouragement your girls provided last night, you walk to Dr. Yun's class feeling like the baddest bitch on campus.

After taking attendance, you make a mental note that Seokjin isn't here yet. He never misses class but you shrug it off for the moment to continue your duties. You remind the students of upcoming assignments, schedule a few tutoring sessions, and answer any questions to the best of your knowledge until the professor arrives moments later. He hands you a stack of handouts and asks you to make copies since he hadn't gotten a chance to while the class takes a quiz. You grab your phone from the desk and slide it in the pocket of your cardigan before swiftly proceeding down the hall to the printer.

You turn the corner, finding yourself colliding with a student who is frantically rushing to class, landing you on your ass surrounded by the papers you were carrying, you quickly adjust your clothes as your skirt has flipped up, putting your lace undies on full display.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I woke up late and can't be late for class. I have a quiz today."

You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see Seokjin. He quickly tries to collect the paperwork as he chatters, taking a moment to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

'He couldn't have seen that, right?'

"Hey! No worries, Seokjin, I can get this. Go ahead... they're just about to begin."

After hearing his name cross your lips, he finally looks up to see your face. With a gasp, you notice his ears flush red before he responds.

"Miss y/n! I'm so sorry! Are you sure you're okay?" He pulls you up to your feet with one hand, allowing you to further adjust your clothing before handing you the papers he'd collected.

"Yes, I'm fine. Hurry up and go. Good luck!"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry."

Seokjin smiles nervously before he rushes past you towards the classroom.

You make the copies and begin heading back to class, unable to stop replaying the incident with Seokjin. Has he always been so cute? So tall? Shoulders that broad? Biting your bottom lip, you recall the way his hair hung just above his eyes and his full pink lips slightly parted when he gasped from the shock of your accident. He looked so nerdy behind those glasses, but his brown eyes were breathtaking.

'Why am I just seeing him now... like really SEEING him?!'

You're thinking about all of this as you make the copies, sure that you hadn't noticed Seokjin's beauty for being so committed to you ex. You were blind for so long but now your eyes are wide open.

Back in the classroom, you quietly place the stack of papers on the desk, glancing up to see the student's working busily. Once you take your designated spot next to Dr. Yun's desk, you cross your legs and begin looking through the rows of seats until you spot him. Hunching over his desk and bouncing his foot restlessly, the poor guy looks so anxious. The sight leaves him looking so small and helpless, though he is definitely a deliciously full grown adult.

You glance away for a second but can't help the smirk that creeps across your face when you catch him suddenly still, sitting erect in his seat as his eyes trace your up legs all the way up to your thighs peeking from under your skirt. After making sure everyone else was focused on their work, you put your leg down and part your knees, now purposely exposing yourself to him. He licks his lips, then his eyes meet yours. Snapping your legs shut, you look down, covering your smile as you snicker to yourself. His nervous behavior commences as his gaze quickly snaps back down to his quiz, but not before you notice his face and ears turn a pretty shade of pink. What is this new feeling? You are not certain but you are 100% sure that you love it. You want more.

A couple of days have passed since literally running into Seokjin when you find yourself at work refolding the campus tees on one of the display tables, you glance at your watch to see it's almost time for you to clock out. It's been beautiful weather all day, despite what the weather channel said, but you can see the sky getting darker and you can hear thunder in the distance.

"It looks like the rain has finally made it," you warn your coworker. "Get home safely!"

Thankfully you check the weather every morning before leaving your campus apartment and was wise enough to bring your umbrella.

You grab your things from your locker in the employee lounge after clocking out. Once outside, you make it halfway across the yard to the fountain in the middle of the quad before you feel the first few sprinkles of rainfall. You stop to arm yourself with your umbrella before continuing your trek across campus as the bottom falls out of the sky. It is pouring now as you cross the street nearing your place, and you notice a familiar figure walking ahead of you.

He's soaking! He doesn't have an umbrella or even a jacket to keep him warm. You can tell that he's cold by the way he burrows into himself. The ripples of his back muscles are accentuated through his wet, white tee shirt as he hugs himself.

"SEOKJIN!"

He stops and turns towards you after hearing his name.

"Miss y/n? What are you doing out in this storm?"

You hold up the umbrella to cover you both.

"I'm just leaving work and on my way home. What are you doing out? And why don't you have a jacket on or an umbrella?"

He smiles shyly.

"Ummm...I didn't know it was going to rain today so I'm unprepared. I was going to the cafe to grab a bite before studying but it started to storm so I turned back."

"You poor thing. Why don't you come up to my place until the rain stops? I haven't eaten yet, either, so I can whip something up for us to eat."

"Uhhh...are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude. Plus, I only live a ways down from here."

Linking your arm in his, you continue to shield you both from getting wet while pulling him alongside you.

"It's no intrusion, I promise. Since it's Friday, my roommate has gone to her boyfriend's place, so I could use the company."

You smile at each other as he takes the umbrella to hold above you and continue to chat as you make your way up the stairs leading to your door. When you step inside, you ask that he stay at the door where there's tile as he's still dripping wet.

"Just stay there for a second. You're soaked. I know there's a towel in here somewhere."

After a moment of searching through the hamper of fresh laundry you hadn't gotten a chance to put away before work, you finally find a towel and hand it to him after he's secured the umbrella strap and placed it in the corner.

"Thanks, Miss y/n. I really appreciate your kindness."

"Of course! We've known each other for years now. You're not exactly a stranger at this point, so it's no problem at all. While you're drying your hair, I'll go see if my roommate's boyfriend may have left some clothes here. You guys are about the same size. Go ahead and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold."

This wouldn't be the first time you've seen a man undress so you're not thinking much about what you just said and rush off to your roommates bedroom to find a large tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. You stay frozen for a second as the situation suddenly catches up to you. You and Seokjin are alone in your apartment and he's undressing in the other room. Ticole's words echo in your mind. 'Get you some!' Michelle's voice lingers closely behind. 'Enjoy your hoe phase!'

'Am I really thinking about this now?! Does he even think of me in THAT way? He seems so innocent, I don't want to be a bad influence or take advantage of him.

You continue to stand there, contemplating your next move. Sure, he is extra dorky at first glance, but when you really look at him, you see now that he is fine as fuck. He, also, doesn't talk to a lot of people so you know he's not sleeping around and he will be discreet about what happens. This could be a good thing, if he's willing, of course. You take a deep breath before you leave the room, only to walk out and see Seokjin wearing nothing but his jeans and sneakers. You gasp at the sight, hoping he didn't hear you. Sure, you knew he would be undressing but you didn't expect that body to be under those clothes. God definitely took his time sculpting him to perfection.

When he looks up to see you've returned, he shyly covers himself with the wet shirt and towel leaving his free hand grasping his spectacles across his chest. There's that feeling again...the one you experienced during class the other day. You clear your throat and walk over to him to give him the clothes, trying your best not to stare.

"M-miss y/n. I-"

"Oh... sorry! I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. Here are the clothes. I can step out for a second."

Reluctantly, he drops the shirt and towel to the floor by his side but his other hand holding on to his glasses remains across his chest as he reaches for the outfit.

Just above a whisper, he asks, "I've been meaning to talk to you. Are you ok? You know from the other day? I was hoping you weren't hurt and I wanted to apologize again. And no, I'm not uncomfortable, you know? I just...I."

"No, I'm completely fine, I promise. And it's no problem at all. I'll step out to give you some privacy."

"Miss y/n."

"Hmm?" You pause to look up to him, awaiting his response.

"You don't have to leave. I don't want you to leave, I just..."

The look on his face teeters on the cusp of pain and embarrassment.

"What's up? You look like there's something else you want to tell me."

"Miss y/n."

"Stop calling me that, though. I'm only a couple years older than you."

"Y-y/n?" He pauses for a moment to see if he's overstepped. When you continue to look into his chocolate colored pupils, he continues speaking. "I've never done this before."

"Done what?"

He leans over to place the clothes on the end table putting his glasses on top. He stands back to face you, taking your wrist in his hand. His eyes bounce from your eyes to your lips, then back. You can see he's nervous as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"What do you want to do, Sweet Boy? Do you want to kiss me?"

The nickname and the question causes his eyes to widen, the reddish hue of his ears and cheeks deepen.

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, ma'am. I want to kiss you so bad."

"Good boy. Go ahead, kiss me."

He hesitates, standing straight and still, your small wrist still gripped in his hand. He's looking into your eyes as if searching to see if you're serious. After what feels like forever, he tilts his head to the side and leans in, only to pull back. Shifting his head in the opposite direction, he leans in again only to pull away. He continues this for a moment, unsure of how to approach you. This would usually be a huge turn off for you but with him it's different. His uncertainty and timidness seems to just stir you on.

"Kiss me."

Your sudden command startles him slightly and he quickly leans in, placing his mouth against yours, bumping your lip with his teeth. He pulls back quickly as if he were burned. Patiently, you take his hands, placing one on the small of your back and the other at your nape. Taking a step forward, your body now flush to his, you can hear his breath shuttering. His very prominent bulge presses against your stomach as you place one hand on his exposed chest and snake your arm around his neck.

"Don't rush. I'm not going anywhere. Take your time and try again."

Slowly this time, he moves in to softly press his lips to yours before he pulls away, the smooch audible. You gently pull him back, slowly beginning to move your mouth against his, licking and sucking at his lips. When your tongue brushes against his, he whimpers aloud, grasping your shirt into his fist. Pulling back, you look up to check in on him. The dorky Seokjin is barely visible under the haze of lust now surrounding him. He bends down, taking your lips again. Mimicking your actions from before, he licks and sucks at your bottom lip before grazing your tongue with his own. Slightly taken aback by the feeling, you pull back to regain control of this situation. When he releases you, you step back and can feel the coldness of your shirt against your skin, now wet from being pressed against him.

"That was so good, Baby. You did good. Would you like to take the rest of those wet clothes off?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You smile at how quickly he's catching on. Still standing at the entrance of your place, Seokjin begins to toe off his shoes which squish with every movement. Sliding them to the side with his foot, he begins to unbutton his jeans, hands noticeably trembling. You're unsure if he's still cold or if he's nervous so you decide to check in again.

"Are you ok? Do you want to stop?"

"Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am... I'm ok. I don't want to stop, I'm just c-cold."

"Take those off and follow me...let's get you warmed up."

Removing your now moist shirt, you begin walking down the hallway to your bedroom. Seokjin watches as your hips sashay and your ass jiggles with every step you take. He continues to peel the wet jeans from his body. Now, wearing only his boxer briefs, he follows the route he just watched you take. Inside of your bedroom, he finds you already in bed, clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor. He bashfully makes his way to the edge of the bed, awaiting further instruction.

"Aren't those wet, too? Don't you think you should take them off?"

"Are you sure you're ok with this? With me?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be? Take them off, Sweet Boy, and come here."

When he pulls them down, you have to hide the shock that overcomes you. His dick looks so thick and heavy. Your heart begins to race in anticipation. Once he's completely naked, you pull the covers back as an invitation for him to climb in. He seems reluctant, trying and failing to cover his manhood behind his hands.

"Seokjin, baby...we don't have to do anything you aren't ready for. I won't be upset and I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do."

"NO! It's not that. I want this, I want this with you. But, like I mentioned, I've never done this before...I'm a virgin. Shit, you just gave me my first kiss. I'm sorry...I should have told you sooner. I'll just leave. I don't want to embarrass myself and waste your time."

"Awww, Baby. It's ok! I don't care that you're a virgin. I want you to stay but only if you want to stay."

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"I promise to be patient. I'm not here to judge you. I won't rush you so just take your time. Would you like for me to teach you?"

He nods his head in agreement.

"Have you ever heard of a 'safeword'?"

"Is it a word we would use to indicate that we are uncomfortable with something?"

"That's exactly what it is. If either of us say or do anything that the other doesn't like, we'll use that word. The other has to stop immediately."

"Ok...what should it be? Could we use Adler?"

You laugh out loud at his cuteness. "Ok... that's fine with me, but why did you choose that?"

"I don't know. His theory was the last thing I looked at when I was studying for Professor Yun's test earlier. It's the first thing that popped into my head," he laughs bashfully while still trying to cover his manhood.

"Adler it is. You can lay with me whenever you feel ready."

With that reassurance, he places his trust in you, removes his hands, and climbs into the sheets. Covering your bodies under the plush blanket, you pull him closer to share your body heat. Resting your head on one hand, you caress his smooth skin with the other. His body continues to tremble but not from the cold this time. Your touch is sending electricity through his core leaving his skin slightly clammy and his breathing shallow and quick.

"I've seen the way you stare at me in class. Do you like me, baby?"

His expression looks as if he'd been caught red handed.

"Y-yes, ma'am. Yes, I do."

"Have you thought about being close with me like this? In bed with me? Touching my naked body?"

His breath hitches in his throat before he answers the same as before.

"Y-y...Yes, ma'am."

"Do you ever touch yourself when you think of me? Does the thought of me make you cum, baby?"

You're practically whispering at this point, inches from his ear. Your hand travels down his abs then along his thigh, skipping the tented area where he needs and wants your touch the most. His erection jerks from the excitement, his body spasms, and his shallow breaths now deepen as he whimpers and moans under your touch. You know he's fighting for his life at this moment but you decide to press him for an answer.

"Did you hear my question? Answer me, Seokjin."

Still inaudible minus his tiny whimpers, he nods his head frantically in agreement.

"I can't hear you. Are you not going to answer me? Do you know what happens to bad boys who don't follow directions? They get punished."

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly in anticipation of what you'll do next. As he clenches his teeth, you can see the muscles along his jawline flex.

"Bad boy," you say softly, pulling the blanket off of him to reveal his hardness. His dick is so firm making his skin look extra smooth but painfully red. The precum leaking from his slit indicates he's enjoying this torture. "Show me. Show me how you jerk yourself off when you're in your room thinking about me."

You sit up briefly to grab the almond oil you'd left on your nightstand this morning after moisturizing your legs. Opening the cap, you pour a bit on the head of his dick and watch as it drizzles down his shaft along the contours of his veins.

"Show me, bad boy. Let me see."

His hand tremors as he brings it up to fist himself. Using his thumb, he distributes the oil and precum over his tip before slowly gliding down his rod. He grunts and gasps as his abs contract, lifting his head from the pillow slightly. He moves his fist back up to the top, barely touching himself.

"Look at me, Seokjin."

He opens his eyes, though they are hooded and lazy. Your heart flutters at the sight. He holds eye contact and his plush lips part as his pants, ready to receive his punishment.

"Squeeze tighter. Imagine my tight pussy slowly sliding down your dick. I'm so wet and juicy."

Following your instruction, he applies more pressure. Still looking into your eyes, his brows furrow as if begging for more. He begins to pick up speed as he's almost there.

"Slowly. Rub your thumb over the tip."

And he does, slowly smearing more precum over the head of his penis. You can tell that he's close to the edge. You allow him to stroke himself a few more times before you grab his wrist, stopping him.

"I want you inside of me. I want you begging me to let you cum."

You grab your phone before moving back towards him. Straddling his hips as he looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. You lift up onto your knees and guide him into you.

"Oh, oh, oh, y/n! Oh! OH!"

He is a mess as you slowly lower your soaking wet pussy to sit flush onto his lap.

"What a nice seat. I think I'll sit here for a while. Don't move."

You unlock your device and start to scroll through your Instagram feed as you're perched motionless with his dick buried deep inside of you. He feels so good and it's a challenge for you to remain still, sitting in this dominant role. You look up to see him looking up to you. The slight chuckle that leaves your lips causes your walls to tighten briefly around him. His whimpers cause you clench even more. He hisses and grabs your hips, sinking his nails into your skin. Simultaneously, he pulls you down as he grinds up to burrow deeper into you. You swallow your moan, unwilling to relinquish your newfound power. You lean forward to firmly grab his chin, bringing his eyes up to yours.

"I said...Be. Still," you whisper. You leave him heaving as you continue to scroll on your phone, putting on as if you're not ready to ride him off the cliff of ecstasy. His little pleas making it harder to act.

"Hmmm...Pleeeease! I c-can't. Y-y/n, please. I can't... can't hold it anymore."

"You can't hold it? Do you need to use the word, baby."

His brows are winkling tighter, sweat pecking at his forehead and chest. You adjust yourself, purposely lifting your body only to follow the trail of moisture you've left smeared on his dick to sit back down.

"N-no... I can't. I can't hold it, y/n! A-ADLER!"

"Go ahead, baby. Let it go."

With your permission, he grips you tighter and pounds into you. Seokjin bares and grinds his teeth, his grunts becoming louder with every stroke. He controls himself for as long as he can, lasting for approximately ten seconds before he explodes, painting your walls with his cum. He feels so amazing, you to want to continue to move. His whining grows louder as his sensitivity increases. Stopping for a moment to allow him to catch his breath, you push the hairs stuck to his forehead away and caress his cheek.

"Are you ok, babe?" Your voice sounds so loving, laced with tenderness.

Seokjin opens his eyes to look at you before he replies, "Yes, ma'am. I'm ok...more than ok. That was better than any of my daydreams, better than I could have ever imagined. You feel so good, so warm, so wet. You look so beautiful sitting on me like this. Thank you so much for this experience."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You're doing so well."

"But you are too sexy, I couldn't restrain myself. The nickname you called me... the way you spoke to me... your dominance. Whew! But, I came way too fast, I'm so sorry. I wasn't able to pleasure you."

Looking at him, you can see that he's oozing with confidence. Confidence you're sure he's unaware that he carries. You both continue conversing as he softly traces tiny circles on your calves with his fingertips.

"Stop that...you're being too hard on yourself. You did great and this was your first time! You'll get better the more you do it. And you feel amazing, by the way. You just have to learn what to do and gain more experience."

"Ummm... could you help me with that, y/n?"

"Of course, Sweet Boy, I would love to help you with that."

He blushes and chuckles a little with a voice that sounds deeper than you remember. "Really?! Thank you so much, y/n. I never would have imagined I'd be able to be here with you, like this. I'm, literally, the luckiest man alive. Also... I am still inside of you but the way you're looking at me, well, I'm getting hard again. What should I do?"

You can't contain your laugher at his innocence.

"Well, baby, you just came. Now it's my turn."

"Yes ma'am... just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it. Anything you want. I want to learn how to please you."

[stonerskinny]

why does alcohol have so many cals 😭

weighed at 277 just now, it really is crazy what a single 💩 and a nap will do for you LMAO

now do i want to risk ruining that w alc and possible binging or do i just go back 2 sleep and be good

i’m 22hrs into this fast meaning if i skip going out and having fun i can take my sleep meds and probably get to 36hrs easy but i can also see the scenario where they just don’t kick in and i end up binging anyway plus i just was aiming for 18hrs

ugh why are there so many ways this could go

the switch is flipping actively, i think. who knew i just needed to get out of the cycle for a night.

i feel like i have something to prove. which i hesitate to admit, but it’s true. apparently when all your friends are restricters and your entire ed is just you failing at restricting, theres some interesting shame stuff that comes up LOL sometimes i just feel like a lazy gross piece of shit compared to everyone in my life because i am like this unhinged fucking glutton and everyone else has the discipline i’d commit war crimes to have

i feel like a wannarexic sometimes which i basically am

i just want to do something right and the only thing i care about is this which i am royally terrible at. sometimes it’s like all i know how to do is eat, doesn’t matter that i purge because im so big.

you know i’m gonna have to lose just over 2/3 my body weight to get to where i wanna be. that’s a lot of fucking weight and there’s no way i end up without loose skin so basically im fucked if i lose to where i wanna be, and fucked if i go crazy and decide to recover because i’ll still be huge. maybe if i actually worked out i wouldn’t end up w so much loose skin or if i did this slowly but slowly pisses me off because my brain is all about that instant gratification

the longer i’m awake the more i want to binge fuck

but i know i will regret it. i knowwwww i will. because ill feel bloated and ill gain and it’ll fucking suck. or ill purge, one of the two. there’s no excuse for it though. this body does not need food, it has PLENTY of natural resources to live on lmao.

i wish i didn’t most likely have the hellscape combo of hypothyroidism + PCOS which both individually make weight loss hard and weight gain so easy. but at the same time i can’t erase my failure by crying about genetics, if i really wanted to get there i’d already have gotten there long ago so now im just wasting everyone’s time.

can u tell the suicidality came back so strong tonite lol

i wonder how many ppl actually read these monstrosities that i write. how many ppl actually absorb my thoughts. trippy

sometimes i think i don’t actually have an eating disorder at all because i am just so inconsistent with anything besides binging. which i know is its own ed but let my silly little rat brain have its moment.

also apparently i literally sleep like the dead bc my hr was 40 when i was sleeping earlier so that’s fun no wonder i wake up feeling like a fucking corpse every day

okay that’s all for now i’ll spare y’all the rest of my brain while i lay here and mentally debate the pros and cons of both trazodone and tequila

[rendy-a]

I saw the househusband au and thought of how Ruggie would be as a househusband. You can decline if you’d like to ^^

Of course, I’ll take it!  I hope you enjoy this househusband musing.  Thank you for requesting.

Ruggie’s frugal nature follows him to your home life.  He knows how to scrape by on very little and he doesn’t see why you should live any differently.  He takes advantage of sales, which leads to very eclectic meals at home.  Some days, you’ll have pasta topped with things you swear pasta isn’t meant to be paired with.  Other times, you might have soup ten days in a row because it was such a good sale.  Ultimately, when he proudly shows you the growing savings account, you can only smile and continue to indulge him.  He is just so happy to have that safety net for once in his life!

You’ll never need to call a handy man when you’re married to Ruggie.  He is endlessly creative at solving problems around the home.  If things break, he is pulling out his phone to watch videos on how to repair it.  Don’t call someone, he can do it!  And finally, if he really can’t fix it, he will find a way to repurpose your old junk for new uses once you’ve replaced it.  He is the type to turn old TV’s into pet beds or aquariums like you see on Magicam.  Waste not, want not!

Don’t go to an expensive hair salon, manicurist or masseuse, Ruggie will gladly do those things for you!  Even if he didn’t know how to do those things before, you can bet he is going to learn how to!  Why pay for someone else to do these personal things for you when your loving spouse can instead?  Plus, he gets all warm and fuzzy inside when he gets to rub your head while washing your hair or hold your hand when filing your nails.  It’s also couple’s time!

Back in the old neighborhood, Ruggie used to take care of all the children like they were his siblings.  These days, he still seems to be well known by all the neighborhood children.  If you go for a walk, you are guaranteed to have at least one child run up and ask your spouse if he wants to come play.  “Sorry, I’m a little busy right now but maybe next time.  Shishishi.” 

After a long day of housework, he likes to lay his head in your lap and get his ears rubbed.  It’s pleasant to card your fingers through his hair and rub the velvet-soft ears.  He sighs with satisfaction and snuggles deeper into your lap.  It’s a task you don’t mind at all, but you still like to tease him about it.  You tell him he is getting as lazy as Leona, laying around all evening like this.  He responds that he certainly feels like a prince when you treat him like this.  You suppose a few extra minutes might be ok tonight.

You arrive home at the usual hour and open the door to your home.  Ruggie hears you enter and pokes his head out of the kitchen to tell you dinner is almost ready.  You take off your jacket and rub your aching shoulder, it was a long day!  Then you smile at the mouth-watering aromas coming from the kitchen and head to the dining room to await what promises to be a delicious dinner. 

You don’t have long to wait before Ruggie sets a plate down in front of you.  It does look delicious, but you can only frown at it.  Ruggie sees your expression and asks, “Something wrong?”  You look at him, “This is steak.”  He looks sheepish, “Yeah, so?”  You give it another look; it’s a good cut of meat.  “What did you do?”  He looks away and says, “What, a guy can’t make a nice meal for their spouse?”  You give him A LOOK.  “Ok, fine, fine,” he says with a sigh. 

“You know my Grannie,” he starts, “the most wonderful, amazing old lady that ever lived?  The one who single-handedly raised me without ever asking for anything in return?”  You narrow your eyes, “I do seem to recall such a woman, yes.  Go on.”  He swallows and smiles nervously before continuing.  “Well, she is going to have this surgery on her knee.  The doctors say she should get a nurse to help her out for a while after the surgery.  Only, I was thinking, nurses are expensive and I’m home all day anyway so…why doesn’t she just come stay here while she recovers?”  You raise an eyebrow, “How long is this recovery time?”  He rubs the back of his head while answering, “One month.”

Granny Bucchi is a firecracker of an old woman.  She tells the craziest stories, both about young Ruggie and her own life.  Your favorites are obviously about Ruggie and you ask for at least one embarrassing story each day.  You tell your spouse that you’ll have so much blackmail by the end of the visit, you’ll be feeling like Azul.  He does not seem amused by the idea, but you plan to make the most of this opportunity.  You’ll be getting foot massages for at least a year on this.

The biggest downside is that you are really feeling the lack of privacy.  Once or twice, you did slip away for some private time with your favorite guy but the mischievous smile and laugh that Granny gave you the next day always makes you feel like a misbehaving teenager.  So, when the month was up, you were rather eager to send Granny home to Sunset Savanah.  You drive her to the train station and wave from the platform as she gets on the train.  Right as the train starts pulling away, you see Granny look at Ruggie and give him a conspiratorial wink.  What was that about?

When you get home, Ruggie tells you Granny left a gift and tells you that he will bring it out.  He emerges from the kitchen with two flutes of champagne and an open bottle grasped between his fingers.  You smile and take a glass from him.  As you ‘cheers’ with your glasses, you ask your spouse, “What does Granny want to get us liquored up for?”  Ruggie gets a conspiratorial grin (obviously this is an inherited expression) and says, “Oh, she said now that we don’t have an old woman around the house, maybe we’d talk about getting some great grandchildren for her.  Shishishi.”  You were alone and had all night free; who knows, maybe Granny will get her wish.

[naughtynoodle056]

At this point I think I'm becoming more and more okay and at peace with being alone forever because I don't think there's anyone who is compatible with me. I'd in theory be better off theoretically finding someone in the Feedism community given the nature of this fetish and lifestyle, but it's very very rare to find someone my age who's into this kink that's also compatible with my non kink interests, lives a reasonable distance, can hold a conversation that isn't just Kink, can read the room in general, and isn't sucky about my less conventional interests. All of that plus having actual chemistry with me and we find each other mutually attractive. AND they aren't weird about black people and they aren't/don't secretly excuse misogyny/homophobia/transphobia/racism/ etc etc. How many single, articulate, well-spoken, BIPOC inclusive, queer Gen Z feedists that aren't annoying about the fact that I like a wide range of music, and are into several subcultures AND don't whine about having to read more than two paragraphs are really out there? That have interests that aren't just being Horny 24/7 and aren't a slog to talk to??

The answer is probably close to 0 unless we simply have not crossed paths yet 😂. I know I sound picky as hell but the last time I wasn't picky as hell and committed to a relationship I got my self esteem destroyed, my money wasted, and physically assaulted, so respectfully I don't think I trust people so much anymore. I'd rather be choosy as hell for my own safety than settle for another disappointment. I already gave up my early 20s to someone that didn't deserve it, I'm never letting that happen again, even if it means being single for the rest of my life and pushing people I feel like aren't Good News for me away because.... No. I don't want another disappointment, and sometimes it feels like that's all I can expect from putting myself out there LMFAO. Thank God the only somewhat crush I have right now is on someone I've known IRL personally for 10 years and will likely recover from soon, cuz I feel like permanently traumatized from trusting a partner I met online 😂

[affectiondeficitdisorder]

Stuff I Didn't Say...

...to men on online dating sites

I’m in a pissy mood, so trust me when I tell you it could be worse. I have, at least, learned restraint of pen and tongue over the years. Okay, maybe not pen. Here are some interactions I didn’t have with men on Bumble and/or Hinge (the two dating apps where I can be found):

To the guy I politely texted “I enjoyed our chat, but I don’t see us as a match” after a phone call that revealed we were absolutely, undeniably not a match, and who texted back: "Well thanks for wasting my time….” Dude, we were on the phone together. You wasted the exact same amount of my time. Did that not occur to you?

To the 20-something who contacts me regularly, insisting that he’s older than the last time I told him he was too young for me: I am also older than the last time. The same amount older. Is there something in the Y chromosome that blinds people to equivalency? Does time only happen to men?

To the below-average-looking 60-year-old whose profile reads: “In an open marriage, NOT a sugar daddy…” what exactly are you offering, and to whom? Apparently neither the chance of a committed relationship nor the possibility a fun time is on the menu. Do you think your dick is magic?

To the male friends whom I know to be in relationships that I see on the apps: I’m not going to say anything to you or to your partner, because I don’t want to hurt her plus I don’t know your life. DADT (Don’t Ask Don’t Tell) is a thing and none of my business. But my first assumption — that you’re a liar and a cheat — is statistically probably true, and it will affect how I look at you going forward. 

To the guys who mark their politics as Moderate but pose with dead fish and live ammo, are unvaccinated and hate Joe Biden with a burning passion… sorry, but you’re not a Moderate. That’s not what “moderate” means. 

To the guy standing next to the Lamborghini, the Ferrari or the McLaren in hopes of — what, attracting a woman he can later complain is only interested in his money? … Sweetie, I can see that’s a public parking lot. If you want to persuade me that you own a fancy car, you have to take the picture in your own garage. 

To all the men who have a drink in their hand in Every. Single. Profile. Picture… you might be fine. All those glasses of alcohol might be a total coincidence. But if you ever want to go to a meeting or anything, you just let me know.

***

Below is the profile photo that Bumble‘s algorithm decided should lead my profile page. I think they like it because I’m wearing tight pants. I like it because it was unposed; I was caught being delighted by an unexpected disco ball. 

Closing note: I find the apps to be as frustrating as most women of a certain age do. Yes, men of my generation age-gate their matches to women my daughter-in-law’s age. Yes, the paradox of choice makes it hard to invest much time or energy into any one person. Yes, a huge percentage of the profiles are overseas scammers. (Hint: If the word “honest” or “honesty” appears more than once in his profile, he’s a fake.) Yes, people lie about their age, their height, their career and their marital status. But it’s still a fascinating amateur study in sociology. For one, it shows how the population in Southern California over age 50 is still mostly white, while the population under age 50 is anything but. That’s a big demographic shift. I also notice that there is a metric shitload of single men in their 40’s. You can’t even say it’s a Gen X or a Millennial thing, as it spans both generations. Men born in the 1970s are overrepresented, at least in this town at this time. What’s up with that?

Mostly, I wonder if dating apps are keeping us lonely by giving us the illusion of not being lonely. I can talk to men all day and all night, but I’m still sleeping with my dog. No shade on the dog; he’s a good boy. But virtual connection isn’t genuine connection, and maybe that’s why we get frustrated, and I get pissy. But I will try to keep my yap shut about it. My pen, not so much.

[ruby-serpentis]

horror au! winter - head canons

pairing: male! winter x gn! reader

warning(s): paganism, persecution, bigotry, witchcraft, mentions of torture, consensual sex, ivory wraith (with tentacle sex), physical violence (stabbing, breaking of bones), implied noncon

please note that i use witch as a gender neutral term. witch is not a feminine term and was only deemed so because of misogyny essentially. (plus warlock is not a counterpart to the term witch. it means traitor)

please note that i do not condone any of this behavior in real life. this is merely a work on fiction based on another work of fiction.

INTRODUCING...THE INQUISITOR!

deep breaths, calm energy, warm fires. that was all you need while you lived in the woods. you were content with yourself, content with your life.

you lived far from your little town, deep in the forest. surrounded by nature’s energy and their lovely fruit. you foraged for food when you can and when you did hunt, you mostly ate small animals. you were sure to use up every single part. nothing should go to waste.

of course, it was a lonely existence. but you had no other choice but to flee deep into the woods where no one would find you.

you had made a pact with your fellow witches. you all would flee, run away. no one would know where you guys were. and it was best to keep it that way if you didn’t know each other’s whereabouts.

the inquisitor had come to town and was hunting for witches.

you didn’t have to worry about that though. not when you were alone and no one would bother you-

“excuse me? is anyone there?” a voice asks.

you stop kneading the dough on your table upon hearing the voice. “who could it be?” you shooed your black cat into another room before going to open the door. “hello good sir.”

“hi.” he smiles.

he’s older but he looks great. well groomed, sophisticated. his hair was thick despite his age. your eyes glance down at the fabrics he was wearing. fancy. embroidered. this man clearly had money.

“how may i help you?” you look around.

“i’m just passing through to the town over. but i can’t help but feel there is a storm coming.”

“there is a storm coming. are you asking for shelter?”

“only if you can shelter me. i intend to be here until the storm passes.”

“i understand why, with your garments and everything.” you smile, moving aside. “please come in, sir?”

“winter. you can just call me winter.”

winter immediately took note of your comfortable little cottage. it was actually quite nice, very clean. his muscles froze a bit seeing a black cat emerge from another room. it stared at him with curiosity before walking up to him. he immediately took a step back.

“oh that’s just my cat. her name is nutmeg.” you smile. “she’s harmless and very gentle.”

“a black...cat?”

“i know how it looks.” you frown. “but they’re very gentle creatures. all the panic about...witches,” you force the word out. “they do a lot of good, like catching rats and stuff. it’s how i’ve managed to not get sick.” your fingers nimbly scratch behind nutmeg’s ears. she purrs in response and rubs herself against your hand.

“i...see...” winter looks at your table. “bread?”

“oh yes. i’m baking bread. it will be ready in a few hours. i have to let it rest a bit longer. would you like a drink? milk? tea? water? i even have wine and ale if that’s your preference.”

“i think i’ll have some tea. barley, preferably.”

he forgot how quickly the time passed by. it seemed surreal the way you enchanted him with your conversation. you had a touch of charisma and he absolutely loved it. if you wanted to, he would recommend you become a preacher. alas, considering that you were living alone, it just seemed like people weren’t your thing.

he didn’t realize how late it was when he looked out the window. it was dark outside and even if he had the lord’s protection, he’d rather not risk it. especially when the moon was bright red.

a bad omen.

“stay?” you ask. “i mean, i do have extra room.”

“the blood moon is a bad omen. and i would like to not risk it.” he says. you frown slightly but don’t push it. from some of the things he said, he seemed like the uptight kind of man.

“of course.”

you made sure your guest was asleep before removing your clothes and using a thick cloak to cover yourself. you made sure your footsteps were as silent as humanly possible before leaving the cottage, heading to the nearby lake.

but winter wasn’t asleep. he was awake. wide awake, trying to sleep. until he heard the small sounds of you shuffling around and the sound of your door opening and closing.

he got out of bed only to trip over something. when he inspected him, part of him flinched. he was repulsed to see such a thing.

a charm. he didn’t know for who, but all he knew was that it was witchcraft. you seemed so sweet, so innocent.

he should’ve known with the black cat. but maybe you were someone who had a soft spot for animals. those kinds of people existed within the church.

what could you be up to this late?

winter is quick to throw on a cloak and his boots, exiting the cottage. he catches a glimpse of the fabric of the cloak disappear behind a tree and follows you from there.

the sight he encounters horrifies him.

a pale figure with long hair, sharp teeth, and burning red eyes is above the lake water. your cloak was discarded on a tree and your body was floating above in the air, held by...something squishy.

your moans were lewd, loud. tentacles roaming your body, sucking on your nipples while the beautiful figure’s cock pounded into your hole. every blood moon, every month, was a beautiful night to give yourself to the deity you worshipped.

you couldn’t just skip out because you had a guest.

what was worse was that...you were enjoying it!

your body spasmed orgasm after orgasm. your hips moved to meet the figure in the middle, wanting to feel the pleasure run through your body. your words spoke of more, of going deeper, of going harder. until a squishy tentacle pushed its way through your lips.

winter ran back to the cottage. he couldn’t bear to see any more. how could such a sweet person be...a witch?

in the end, the ivory wraith sank back into its domain. you were covered in slime and cum, cum leaking down your thighs as your hole overflowed. you were a bit of a mess and would need to clean off before going back to your cottage.

after washing yourself off in the lake, you made it back home. except when you opened the door, you found winter sitting down at your table.

“winter. you are up late. very late.” you say.

“so are you.” he says, rubbing his chin.

“well i needed to bathe. not exactly proper to do it with someone else in the cottage.” you smile, wrapping your cloak tighter around your naked body. winter could almost see every detail of your skin.

he wouldn’t admit it, but you were very attractive. and you made him feel unholy things.

and maybe it was okay to keep pets.

“bathing in the lake?”

“it’s the closest source of water.” you shrug. “i make do with what’s out here. good night-”

“please, stop.”

something about his voice is chilling. it makes your muscles freeze up and suddenly the warmth of your cottage goes out. it’s cold and it nips at your bare skin.

“stop what?” you say.

“stop pretending. i know what you are.” his eyes are dark as they look into yours.

“and what am i but a humble person, sir? a humble person who lives in a cottage deep in the woods? who doesn’t bother anyone?”

“you are someone who conspires against the lord using the power of darkness. you...are a witch.”

the accusation stung. it pierced right through your heart and you felt your breathing stop, if only for a moment, even if you were imagining it.

“a witch? that is quite the accusation sir.”

“is it? a black cat. a charm of witchcraft in my room. potions and salves of all kinds.” he stands up from his seat. “i saw you, hanging from the air. pleasured by that...revolting figure!”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you were trying your best to keep a straight face, unsure if you were succeeding.

“don’t lie. i hate lying. it makes it infinitely harder on me.” he frowns. “because it means i have to rip the truth out of you.” a dagger glints in his hand and you catch two letters engraved on the blade. IW.

and that i could only mean one thing.

“inquisitor...” you whisper, eyes widening.

the person you had ran from deep in the woods, hid away from. they somehow made their way to your doorstep.

“figured it out.” winter sighs. “you’re an attractive person. and it’s only been a day. but i like you. and i think you will be of great help to me if i keep you alive.”

“no.” you purse your lips. “no.”

“i don’t think you have a choice.”

you listened to your instincts and turned around, beginning to run. but winter was a lot faster. his grip on your forearm felt like iron which was pretty good considering a man his age.

he pulled you back, forcing you against the wall. a small groan left your lips after you hit your head. your vision was blurry for a second before it returned to normal.

winter was right in front of you. in any other situation, you’d probably be horny.

“you are going to be a good little witch. and tell me everything about your fellow witches and where they could be hiding.”

“i’d rather die first. and suffer at your hands.” you scoffed. “i’ve heard tales of your ruthlessness. the way you enjoy the tortured screams of witches you’ve caught. i am not afraid of you.”

“you should be.”

“i don’t need the power of your god or even my own deity. i am perfectly capable on my own!”

winter doubles over in pain when he feels you knee him in the stomach. you punch him in the throat and push him off of you. you make a beeline for the door and almost make it.

until feeling a sharp pain strike through your leg. “fuck!”

you look down, seeing the dagger sunken into your flesh. blood was slowly leaking out of the wound. taking it out would be the end of you. you didn’t want to risk bleeding out to death.

+ Pain

a hand grips onto your ankle and pulls you down to the ground. he pushes the dagger deeper into you, causing you to scream.

+++ Pain

“i’ve met many of your kind. a lot of them fight back. but none of them hit as hard as you.” he stands up, looming over you menacingly.

the pain in your legs causes tears to well up in your eyes, your vision becoming blurry.

“it would be such a shame to...turn you in.” winter hums.

he steps on your knee and presses down. you bite your lip in an attempt to numb yourself. he puts all his weight on his foot, stepping down. and your leg breaks with a snap! as if it was a very stale piece of bread.

++++++ Pain

you scream and the tears begin falling. you try to curl into yourself to protect yourself. but it’s no good.

You are sobbing uncontrollably.

“a body meant for pleasure. i mean...look at you.” he hums. “you need me to protect you. you’d make such a fine pet. i can use you too. make myself richer. you could live in luxury rather than in this...damp forest.”

“or i could use you as an example.” he tuts. “public humiliation. a pillar perhaps? nude? you’re a witch after all. no one would care. in fact, they would rush to the pillar and love to ruin you.”

+++ Trauma

“which one will it be, darling witch?”

“neither!” you manage to build up enough saliva to spit at him. “i hope you burn!”

“on the contrary, you would be the one burning.” winter smirks. he removes his foot from your leg and lets it travel up to your crotch. you gasp feeling it push against your genitals. “but maybe not on my watch.” a realization crosses his face.

“i never got your name.” he hums. “well it doesn’t matter for now. i’ll ask for it later.”

he adds pressure onto his foot and you whimper.

“now squeal for me pet.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

friends I am experiencing an early-onset midlife crisis and it is time to get my shit together and figure out what I’m going to do about it. my job is fine but it is not sustainable to spend every week swinging wildly from chanting “I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine” into feeling like I’m in the depths of despair about wasting my one human life. it is just not sustainable and I NEED to honor my own gut feelings even if many people around me are telling me this situation is ideal. maybe they are right! but consider this: maybe they aren’t! or maybe this situation would be ideal for them but it’s certainly not ideal for me and I am the one who has to live in my own life!!!! I need an escape plan because I can already feel my confidence as a professional & a human atrophying the longer I stay in this role. so no more wallowing. I am going to set short-and long-term goals for myself and establish a clear timeline for my exit strategy. 

here are my thoughts right now:

L&D work may or may not be for me, but I can tell this job isn’t for me. it’s not utilizing any of my skills. the institution’s understanding of workplace learning seems pretty baked in. leadership’s approach is so micromanage-y it’s hard to see them giving our team the creative/intellectual freedom to define and implement a more exciting vision plan that might actually address some of the org’s challenges. I spend my days copying text into canva and creating shitty graphics, which is just not a good use of anyone’s time. I feel like the job was sliiiiightly misrepresented to me in the hiring process and it’s hard to see any of these things changing anytime soon.

I need to get something out of this job. I need to make a list of my professional dev goals (classes I can get them to pay for, books I can read, topics I want to gain greater expertise in, etc). I also need to make a separate list of the work projects I’d like to drive forward over the next couple months, so that when I’m interviewing for jobs next time around I can actually say I did something semi-useful here. I think the fact that I don’t want to be in this role long term will actually free me up to be a bit more assertive in claiming projects, taking initiative, and asking directly for what I need. I want to spend time this week working on those lists and creating a timeline for myself.

I want to kick it into high gear in terms of finishing projects early and well. I’ve been doing a decent job (getting lots of positive feedback etc and finishing things quickly) but I’m giving this job 5-10% of what I’m able to do any given week. but I honestly find it more depressing to underachieve or just do the bare minimum because it makes me feel so pointless and adrift. starting this week, I’m going to make a commitment to myself to actually perform at the level I am capable of performing at. I might feel meh about my job but I derive a great deal of meaning and self-worth from the feeling of working hard and excelling at something. I have this one side project everyone seems to think will take me a couple months. I’d like to finish 80% of it this week. I want to see if working hard makes a difference in how I feel about the work itself.

I need to be realistic about money. I want to stay in the seattle area and I want to have a kid very soon. plus I need to rebuild my savings after almost cleaning myself out to make this cross-country move. I can’t take another low-paying university job no matter how much I might want to. but I can find something that is a better fit, ideally where I am getting to use more of my people skills. I need to sit down and do some realistic calculations about how long I need to stay in this job to get my savings back up, how much I need to make annually to support myself and a kid on a single income, and what I am and am not willing to compromise on in a job. having a clear sense of my financial needs will help me decide on a timeline + exit strategy.

I enjoy the freedom of remote work but I’m not cut out for being remote in the long term. I think ideally I want a hybrid schedule with some flexibility about which days I’m in/out. I am going to start scouring job boards again with this in mind. in reading job descriptions I’m also going to start paying very close attention to what different postings are asking for. this will help me develop and refine my list of the skills, experiences, projects etc I want to pursue in my time at my current job.

I can do this. I feel really adrift but I know why: too much unstructured time, too much aloneness during the week, too much performing below the level I know I’m capable of performing at, too much not listening to my gut & trying to drown out my feelings of despair by spending money and time on house projects. I ONLY GET ONE LIFE. I ONLY GET ONE LIFE!!!!!!! I know what personal happiness + professional fulfillment looks and feels like for me. I was very lucky to have lived in that professional headspace for a few years, because it’s given me a baseline I can measure my current situation against. I don’t have to passively accept feeling the way I do right now. I don’t know how I’m going to get back to feeling more like myself but I know I am smart enough and resourceful enough to figure it out. onwards!!!!!!!

[3mixs]

Perceiving the vampire Mihyo so hard damn the 16 year old in me that watched the second and third seasons of the vampire diaries a few too many times for it to be healthy is screaming and crying. Original Mina fits soooooo well and sire drama with Sana? Sign me up lmao.

Is Sana like a ripper or something? I need to know more

having tvd and twilight come out around the same time when i was a kid clearly altered my brain chemistry bc i will eat up absolutely every single piece of vampire media. every year or so i’m like ‘holy shit i remember how good tvd was let me rewatch it’ and i always tap out around season 3-4. but seriously the first few seasons are just unmatched. the drama, the characters - katherine, the originals, ugh it was all just so good!

but i’ve never seen an idol have such a vampire-esque energy quite like mina. she just has this perfect mysterious allure about her that draws people in. plus her striking beauty and undeniable elegance is just perfect vampire material! like i need more vampire!mina content so so bad.

as for sana, something about her just encapsulates the lustful and sinful side of vampirism to me. so i imagine when mina turned her, and she was turned with her humanity flipped off - it awoke something sinister. i kind of wanted the juxtaposition tvd had with damon and stefan, and explore two different approaches to vampirism. on one hand we have mina, who still values life and keeps her humanity. she’s lived long enough that she forgot what it was like to be human and she hates herself for it. she misses the beauty of living and all of the complexities of humanity. she wants to remember what it’s like to live each day as if it’s her last and be close to people who won’t eventually be taken by time. meanwhile sana basks in the promise of eternity and the power she’s built for herself. when she turned and that love for mina took a backseat, she decided vampirism was wasted on someone like mina. she’s more powerful than anything else in this world, so she should act like it. to sana, the world is her playground. humans are toys and meals. her clan are her servants. basically it’s her world and we’re all just living in it. she has more money, more influence, and more power than any person can hope to achieve. she’s invincible... well that is until the slayer figures out a way to kill mina. which sana can’t let that happen.

so yes, in a way she’s a ripper. like if katherine was a ripper, that would be sana. she’s sexy, she’s powerful, she’s manipulative, and of course she’s a little sadistic. i imagine after living for so many years and not seeing humans as people, sometimes a girl’s got to play with her food to still enjoy the thrill of the kill.