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blouisparadise · 4 years

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Here are some of the amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of September. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Hard Candy Dripping On Me (Til My Feet Are Wet) | Explicit | 1997 words

Louis gets fucked on a plane. That’s it.

2) Fucking Nightmares | Mature | 2151 words

Louis has a nightmare. Harry comforts him.

3) You Could Take A Lick (But It's Too Cold To Bite) | Explicit | 2469 words

“You look kinda thirsty.” Louis croons softly.

Harry leans back in his chair and tilts his head to the side. His eyes are covered by the pair of expensive shades, but Louis feels his eyes drifting down his backside as he lays on his stomach.

“Why don’t you bring me a bit of that ice cream, darling?”

Louis and Harry have fun in a summer day.

4) Interview With The Vampire | Explicit | 4135 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/Robert Pattinson.

Working at an alpha magazine wasn't always easy for an omega like Louis, but he's just landed his biggest interview yet with an A list actor who has asked for Louis especially. Unfortunately, the interview is with Rob Pattinson, the biggest pain in the arse alpha on the planet.

Inspired by Rob’s interview in GQ Magazine and not actually about vampires

5) Conozco La Vida | Teen & Up | 4761 words

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

"I have a son," he declared, there was a very thinly veiled layer of hesitation.

Harry was unaware in the direction which this conversation was heading but chose to stare at the man instead.

"He is an Omega," he dropped the pivotal piece of information.

Harry's attention was hooked now.

"He has been raised in an Omega convent all his life, he hasn't been in the presence of any Alpha who isn't his immediate family."

"I am still waiting for you to make a point."

"You could take him as an Omega."

Harry did not react, his face remaining perfectly free of betrayal of any sort of emotion and leaned back upon his chair, his leg crossed upon his knee. "You are selling your son to me?"

6) It’s Hard For Me To Go Home | Not Rated | 4890 words

Don’t call me baby again.

7) So Baby, Let's Keep It Secret | Explicit | 4638 words

“I’ll leave with you,” Harry said after a beat, sounding sure of himself.

“What!? No!, you can’t leave with me, Harry, you have a life here. You have a job and friends an-”

Harry kissed him in the middle of his rambling. “Which means nothing if I don’t have you.”

Into You Music Video AU.

8) ZOMOS | Mature | 5659 words

Is it easy to forget everything and start afresh? Is it easy being served with hateful glances and insults when all you wish for is to be loved? Is it easy to make it seem like everything is alright when in reality your world is crumbling into pieces with every breath you take?

Is it easy to be the omega who is unwanted by their alpha?

9) Your Biggest Fan | Explicit | 9075 words

Just like everyone else, Louis has a few habits that he can’t seem to break. Guilty pleasures, rather. His nails are perpetually short because he can’t quit biting them, the bottom of his shoes scuffed from tapping his foot constantly. Sometimes his leg gets a cramp from bouncing it so often underneath his desk. That isn't too bad, he reckons, just some average teenage coping mechanisms.And also, occasionally, minor instances of theft.

10) Making A Splash | Explicit | 9557 words

“You want this?” Harry muses, fisting his cock as he drags his hand lazily up his thick length. Louis eyes the motion and nods his head absentmindedly. “You want to show everyone at this beach how much of a slut you are for Daddy’s cock?”

“M‘your slut,” Louis immediately replies, inching closer, inching closer with his eyes glued on Harry’s glistening cock, precome shining under the sun as it dribbles out his slit.

Harry grins widely and stops the movement of his hand to grip himself at the base again, pushing Louis’ head down. “Show everyone how much of a slut you are.”

11) Hung Up High in the Gallery | Mature | 14006 words

When Harry’s best friend, Louis, comes to support him at his art show, he decides they need to do some celebrating afterwards. How fast do the lines between friends and lovers get blurred ... or better, get painted?

12) My Home Is Your Body | Explicit | 15341 words

Note: The fic pairing is Louis/Henry Cavill.

He had seen who had made his senses go haywire. His ex was in the front row, five feet in front of him. He felt his eyes on him even as he mechanically made his way to the end of the runway, hoping to God he didn’t look like a maniac. Everything was a blur. He somehow managed to walk the rest of the way without falling or emoting anything. Why was he HERE? Of all places.

...where Louis is a successful omega model and the last thing he expects is his ex to become the co-partner of the new company he works for....

13) There's Nothing Like It (Nothing At All) | Explicit | 15471 words

Note: This is a sequel to this fic.

His hands are outstretched on the mattress like he’s reaching out for something, reaching out for Harry. It makes his heart swell, almost bursting with affection and love. He only waits a bit longer before reaching over to turn off the light and pulling Louis to his chest, smiling when the omega immediately sighs in contentment, nuzzling into his skin happily.Tomorrow, he tells himself. Tomorrow, they’ll talk about it.-Or, Harry isn’t ready for things to change, and the end is just the beginning.

14) Seven Simple Words | Explicit | 15535 words

It’s not like he and Louis were a couple. No, they might have been a lot of things—best mates and colleagues with a seemingly convenient friends-with-benefits arrangement—but never a couple. It wasn’t Louis’ fault he didn’t feel the same way and couldn’t reciprocate Harry’s feelings in the way he’d wanted, the way he’d needed. Harry had allowed himself to get in too deep, his entire being aching to be loved back by the object of his affections. But in love, as in life, you don’t always get what you want.

15) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18061 words

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

16) The Way This River Runs | Explicit | 27417 words

It’d be so easy to just open his mouth and plead with Harry, to scream I’m sorry until his voice disappears, but he can’t. Be it his pride or his ego or his insecurities, he just can’t do it. The worst part is that he knows Harry would probably forgive him.

But Louis doesn’t want phony forgiveness. He doesn’t want Harry’s soothing words and pity embrace, thinks he might just break altogether if he was offered them. He feels like he’s made of glass recently and it’s to the point where he kind of wants to tip over the edge, just to see if he’d shatter. Just to see who’d be there to pick up the pieces if he did.

17) Give Me Love | Explicit | 41041 words

Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

18) Falling Out Of Fashion | Explicit | 42123 words

Harry Styles has been the established face of the Grimshaw House of Design for two years. It’s a prestigious and coveted modeling contract Harry took away from once-famed supermodel Zayn Malik. With the model transition Grimshaw’s designs went from a more urban, Zayn-forward aesthetic, to a Harry-favoring flowery, flowing femininity in the Grimshaw designs for men.

So when Harry sees a dress Grimshaw made for a famous Marvel actress, “only a tease”, Nick says, of the evolving look, Harry knows Grimshaw is shifting his aesthetic.

Harry wonders if he can pull off the look.

19) Three Days In February | Explicit | 189346 words

Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind.

Ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a lot of Harry and Louis alone together, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.

20) Boss Bitch | Explicit | 386901 words

Harry had always wanted to work for this successful mafia; the mafia that everyone knew, everyone feared. Led by none other than the pahntom

"L'eue Courante", whom everyone knew existed, but had no other clues who this person could be. The only thing known was a high heel the phantom once left.

So this person had to be woman, Harry assumend. And man, was he wrong.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Janis & Jude

Janis: How did it go?

Jude: how you said it was gonna

Janis: Do you want one of us to come home or would you rather be alone?

Janis: At least you were prepared

Jude: I’ve put you out enough, have already done & am gonna do for the foreseeable, I’m good

Janis: That doesn’t mean you should go without now

Janis: If it’s what you need, just say so

Janis: What did they say?

Jude: they’ll both be up for taking an arm if you & dad wanna grab a leg & drag me down the clinic

Janis: no one’s gonna force you to do anything

Janis: you can’t have expected any other reaction?

Jude: I’m not as thick as this makes me look or feel

Janis: I know you aren’t

Janis: I guess it feels weird that no one’s celebrating with you, on some deep-down uncontrollable level

Janis: You tell me, that’s how it seemed to me when Grace thought she was pregnant when we were teens

Jude: I just thought everyone cared about me more than this, me, not the mistake I made & how it’s gonna fuck everything up & how fast it can be sorted so it can be like it didn’t happen

Jude: Jess is only bothered it might make headlines & Jac doesn’t even see me in this, just that she did the right thing & so should I, as if there’s 0 difference between me & her

Janis: They do care about you

Janis: That just doesn’t look the way you would like, or expected it to

Janis: They’re just terrified for you, we all are

Jude: they’re not coming back for summer & it’s not just Jess’ birthday, she don’t wanna come back ever

Jude: if Jac’s so worried why am I dead to her?

Janis: You aren’t even off ‘til the end of July, there’s time

Janis: That’s why it made sense to do this now, you have to give that time and space

Janis: They’re giving you it too, but for the opposite reason

Janis: I would have done the exact same thing, she’s showing she’s serious, that this is

Janis: Arguing if it’s right or not is irrelevant, the more she punishes you, the more she’s hoping you’ll change your mind on this

Jude: You didn’t hear her

Jude: it’s gonna be worse than it was before, if I don’t change my mind I don’t have a sister anymore & if I do I don’t have a baby anymore

Janis: I know your sister, I know you all

Janis: Just because she made it sound that way, or outright said it, doesn’t mean it’s true

Janis: not that pointing that out would do you any favours

Janis: I’ve been there, even as much as I thought I hated Rio at times, or as much as I really might’ve

Janis: you can’t just erase people from your life, especially not family, not easily

Janis: Look how long dad’s dad lingered around, and that was a more mutual decision

Jude: but she literally did erase me for 2 years & even though she’s been gone, this is the closest we’ve been

Jude: I just got her back

Janis: Erasing yourself is different to erasing other people, even if it feels the same being one of those people

Janis: you have to remember that was about her and how she felt

Janis: It is hurtful, but it wasn’t because you did anything wrong

Jude: now I have though

Janis: In her eyes or yours or both?

Jude: in everyone’s

Jude: dad can’t even look at me rn

Janis: It’ll change

Janis: I’m not going to say get easier, it’ll be different kinds of hard

Jude: You’re all acting like I’m going about celebrating, I didn’t want this to happen either, not like this & not now

Janis: It’s difficult to get it out of your head that there aren’t other options for you, when there technically are, that’s all

Janis: None of us wants to think of you doing something you don’t want to do

Janis: It would be as uncomfortable if you did have a termination, this isn’t a nice thing that has happened

Jude: None of you think I can or should raise a kid

Jude: maybe you’re all right & I shouldn’t bother trying

Janis: It’s your decision, I’m not going to tell you what to do either way

Janis: you’ll do what you need to do

Jude: it’s not a decision I can make with the whole family against me, Toby couldn’t bail fast enough

Janis: We aren’t against you

Janis: But you have to be the one to make the final call

Janis: we’re all just waiting for that

Janis: we can’t really support you more than that

Jude: Yeah you are, it’s obvious what you & dad want

Jude: it was different with Bobby, Cammie’s mum decided & he didn’t get a proper say, not unless he was gonna bail too

Jude: my decision is MY decision & when you all reckon I’ve made the wrong call it’ll be held over my head forever

Janis: It won’t, Jude

Janis: We’re just not happy about this, but neither are you, so can you blame us?

Jude: I don’t but I don’t wanna be the fuckup of this family either

Janis: This family has an abundance, but we all survive and make it work

Janis: most do, they’re just less outward with it

Janis: Your life will be harder, but as long as you end up happy, that’s the whole point, only you can say what will get you there

Jude: not our little bit of it, everything was going 🏆🥇 before this

Janis: What about the last two years with Jac?

Jude: that wasn’t her fault

Janis: Some of it was

Janis: it doesn’t make either of you awful people though

Jude: if you wanna take to the streets 📢 go ahead but I don’t think it’ll shut anyone up

Janis: Other people are going to say shit, that’s not going to stop

Jude: yeah, I know, I’m not looking forward to even more of it is all I’m saying

Janis: Then you do need to keep thinking

Janis: if you can’t handle that

Janis: no one will know if you do go for the termination route

Jude: I never said I can’t handle it

Janis: Okay

Jude: I know I don’t handle stuff like Jac & Jess do but I won’t fuck things up more than they are cos of what people 🗨️

Jude: I get that I need to be in school til I’ve done exams & I’m not trying to give them another reason to wanna chuck me out

Janis: The options are beyond limited if you don’t finish, you do need to

Janis: it’s alright if you care what people think

Jude: I care it’s bollocks

Jude: if I knew all the shit they’re 🗨️ about & reckon they’ve always known I wouldn’t have just gone along with it then never mind having to deal with it now on top of this

Janis: People will always be ready to think the worst about you

Janis: you know it’s not true, real friends will too, that will have to do

Jude: such a mum thing to say but alright

Jude: you're not wrong

Janis: oi

Janis: just speaking from more experience than you

Jude: while you can, I get it, I’m grabbing onto being a kid as long as I still can too but

Janis: That’s gone

Janis: you can’t be a child and be pregnant

Janis: just because it isn’t here

Jude: Why can’t I?

Janis: You have to take care of yourself and your body more than ever

Janis: that doesn’t compute with running about who knows where

Janis: you’re already responsible for it

Jude: you’re literally out-mumming yourself here

Jude: fun ✔️ risks ❌

Jude: I don’t have a death wish for me or it

Janis: Come on, you know it’s true

Janis: That’s it

Jude: I know I don’t have ages before I look like 🤰🏼 & I can’t even tie my own shoes ⏲

Jude: but I’m not dying, you don’t have to wrap me in bubble wrap

Janis: It’s a bit late for that

Janis: that’s my point, you need to be realistic

Janis: you won’t be the same person afterwards, you think you will but you won’t

Jude: so let me have now

Janis: What do you think you’re going to be able to do before you’re pregnant with all the symptoms, Jude

Janis: This isn’t about me letting you have anything, this is your reality, we need to know you understand that more than what you’re putting out right now implies

Jude: it’s happening to my body, of course I understand

Janis: It’s getting your head right as well as the physical shit

Janis: that does take longer, I know

Jude: yeah, when everyone’s having a go at you & telling you you’ve ruined the lives of everyone you care about that’s a headfuck

Janis: This is a headfuck, for all of us

Jude: I knew what I was gonna do & everyone’s putting doubt about now

Janis: That’s in theory, this is actually happening

Janis: You don’t get to do it without any outside forces

Jude: what if I can’t do it & I’m the worst mum ever?

Janis: You don’t know until you do it

Janis: actually, you never know

Janis: but that’s everyone

Jude: No way, you’ve gotta know you’re good at this, mum 🏆

Janis: Of course not

Janis: no one hands out actual 🏆 or gives you annuals

Janis: that’s what I’m trying to explain, it’s not horror stories

Janis: you sign up for a life of uncertainty and feeling like you’re doing it all wrong

Jude: I’ll make you one if I’m still allowed glue & scissors

Janis: Tah

Janis: the glue is non-toxic and I don’t think you’d get far with scissors in any serious capacity unless you got very creative so

Janis: go wild

Jude: When do I have to tell them at work? now?

Jude: they’ll offer me more than the odd saturday when summer starts

Janis: It looks better if you do it sooner

Janis: so they can’t claim you sprung it on them

Jude: okay

Janis: like, you can’t chuck someone for being pregnant but if you help them out, they’ll be more inclined to help you out

Jude: tomorrow after school it is then

Janis: 👍

Janis: do you need anything bringing back?

Jude: what like an unsuspecting boy to raise this child with me or?

Janis: I was thinking Lucozade, maybe some tablets, that kinda thing

Jude: in that case, no, I’m alright

Janis: Okay then

Jude: I’m gonna just go to bed so

Janis: Before dinner?

Jude: I’m tired

Janis: Alright

Janis: I’ll see if you’re up when I get home, if you want to talk more later

Jude: 🤞 I can sleep & won’t be, no offense

Janis: I’ll cope

Jude: me without dinner, there’s nothing that doesn’t make me feel sick rn anyway

Janis: that gets better usually, unless you’re unlucky, 2nd is the easiest bit

Jude: ffs would be the easiest bit when I’m basically done with & then don’t have school

Janis: I think that’s the least of your timing troubles tbh

Jude: Tah for reminding me of what I’m trying not to think about

Janis: yeah not a luxury you have kid, sorry

Jude: no need to remind me of all the luxuries I won’t have

Janis: Try to get some sleep then

Jude: 👌

Jude: love you

Janis: love you too

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copias-thrall · 5 years

Note

Hulloooooo! Do you have any headcanons about how Copia and Papa 3 would be in bed with each other?

These idiots.

Thirst below

*m/m, really rough sex*

What you have to understand is these two are basically a walking Enemies to Lovers tag.

Copia shows up on the scene and Papa III is hella suspicious. Why is this man here at this Church. There are so many senior clergy members here, why add another? And to add insult to injury the guy isn’t even flaunting his favor. He’s just. Always in his office working or attending to the education of the Siblings. They guy’s just such a square. He’d been expecting to hear poor performance reviews of The Cardinal’s Sibling initiations, but on the contrary—he seems to have … groupies. It’s beyond maddening. He’s determined to show this man how unwelcome he is here at any opportunity.

Copia himself is wondering how he ended up here. He’s not really the political type, and that’s maybe what landed him in this predicament—he’s pretty much a neutral party who is devoted to the Church and does excellent paperwork. He wasn’t exactly expecting a warm welcome from Papa III, but the level of disdain and vitriol the man directs at him is beyond unwarranted. That man is a spoiled brat, surrounded by yes men, and he wouldn’t know what a Form 38a § G was if it slapped him in the face. Which is what Copia would love to do every time he goes to III’s office to find him there with a Sibling under his desk.

And then the pranks start.

Stupid, little things. Surprising in how juvenile they are. A whoopee cushion placed under his seat pillow in Chapel. A tack on his office chair. Sugar in his salt shaker and salt in his sugar bowl (and ok: after finding the sugar in his salt shaker he really should have checked his sugar bowl, so that one’s on him).

Honestly, Copia had assumed it was the Ghouls or bored first-years. But then one day he has to double back to his office to retrieve a file he overlooked, and he catches III in the act of—well he’s not sure, but there were pulleys involved. Copia saw that his door was ajar—unusual, but not immediately suspicious. The sounds, though, were. Copia had slowly swung open the door—his palm flush on the wood—to reveal III, slightly bent over, fiddling with ropes, the clunk of the metal pulley loud in the relative silence. Perhaps sensing a shift in the air around him, or a change in light, III had turned to look at the doorway and froze. Copia looked at him. Papa III had looked back. They has stood like that—a cursed tableau—until III at least had the indecency to look ashamed. He’d quickly gathered up his … contraption … and scuttled down the hallway, Copia just standing there, motionless and mute throughout the whole.

And maybe that could have been that. The prank war could have ended with Papa III’s embarrassment and the two of them continuing to have a quiet, but markéd, distaste for each other. But Copia did not rise through the ranks on his studiousness alone. You have to be somewhat dangerous if you want to ascend and you’re not of the Emeritus line.

Copia lets III fall into a false sense of security. He barely shows any acknowledgement that he caught him red handed. And Papa III seems begrudgingly grateful that Copia didn’t report him to Sister Imperator; he thinks there’s an uneasy truce.

But Copia is a patient man.

The dark solstice is upon them. The shortest day of the year. The time where it is more night than day. It’s not one of their High Unholy Days, but it is a time for new sins and wanton revelry—so one could say it’s an important holiday to the Church. It’s a service III can perform by rote—a few updates to the Latin sermon every year, but basically it’s a boilerplate by now. So he doesn’t really practice it. Just sends it off with his few notes to have it rewritten cleanly.

The service is usually excruciating—the Ghouls and Siblings are counting down the minutes til they can fuck and drink all night; many of the permanent clergy members have heard this sermon for years; Papa III himself is bored with it. Only Nihil, Papa I, and Sister Imperator seem to actually be enjoying the pageantry of it.

This year though, as soon as Papa III gets a few lines in, there’s a hushed tittering in the crowd. III ignores it because: it’s probably just some tomfoolery. He’s more or less spaced out, his brain on autopilot as he sings out the words to the verse. It’s when the murmurings turn into stifled giggles, and he tunes in enough to see Imperator glaring at him, does what he’s actually saying dawn on him.

Oops, I did it again / I played with your heart, got lost in the game / Oh baby, baby / Oops, you think I’m in love / That I’m sent from above / I’m not that innocent /

He stutters and pauses; he picks up the sheaf in front of him, squinting.

Yes.

Oh yes.

His solstice sermon has been replaced with the lyrics to “Oops, I Did It Again.”

He chances a look over to the pew with the Higher Clergy—to gauge from his father and Sister how bad it is—but instead he catches the eyes of an expressionless Cardinal Copia looking deadass back at him. Papa III narrows his eyes and meets The Cardinal’s steady gaze, their white eyes at war. He proceeds to finish his altered sermon with as much pomp and severity that he can lend to an outdated pop song.

His eyes don’t once leave The Cardinal’s.

Afterwards, Papa III is on his way to having a full on hairy conniption. He manages to make it back to his office before he tears off his ceremonial robes in a rage. The Ghouls attending him are surprised and concerned at his uncharacteristic carelessness with his vestments. He hurriedly shoos them out, and then sits down at his desk, panting in ire. He’s not one that angers easily, so he’s unused to the pounding adrenaline. Taking out his aged Scotch—the bottle he really keeps in his desk just for show—he pours himself two fingers (if “two fingers” means the space between his index and pinky fingers) and swallows it down in two gulps, coughing and sputtering at the burn.

It’s enough to take him out of his snit a bit to consider why he’s so angry; it’s not like this particular holiday is of great importance to him, and it’s not like in general he doesn’t find the services tedious. Lucifer, it’s not like doing a dramatic reading of a pop song is out of character for him.

But he would never, never, be so ostensibly irreverent during an important occasion. The heavy eyes of the Church—of his father, of the Sister—are ever on him, watching, waiting. Cardinal Copia made him look like an asshole in front of the whole congregation—and because it’s so on brand, no one probably even thinks it was a joke on him.

And that’s what’s making him incensed: at a time when his tenure as Papa is so precarious, The Cardinal made him look like a buffoon.

Papa III’s blood boils all over again and his fists tighten. Cardinal Copia crossed a line, may have even done it with malicious intent, and he needs to pay, that Rat.

He takes a generous swig from the bottle before making his way to The Cardinal’s quarters. Unlike III, Cardinal Copia’s office and personal chambers are in the same suite, so he knows there’s a good chance of catching him as he’s changing out of his cassock and into one of those ridiculously tight suits he owns.

Copia has to admit to himself that maybe he took his revenge too far. He was only trying to show Papa III that he’s not a pushover. Given the man’s reputation, Copia didn’t even consider how thrown that man would be at his little switcheroo prank. But there had been a—a what? A sudden slight paleness to the unpainted skin around his face; a moment of panic in his mismatched eyes. He’d continued on with gusto, but there was none of the humor in it that Copia had come to associate with the man. In all honesty, Copia hadn’t expected III to continue (or honestly get so far)—he’d had the correct sermon under his own seat ready to hand over.

This was a Papa he’d expected to linger and joke with his parishioners—instead, III had hustled out of the chapel in a flurry of swirling robes, hardly paying any heed to the Siblings that batted their eyelashes at him in hopes of being one of his chosen revelers. Copia is at war with himself between wanting to apologize and scoffing that the man had brought it on himself, even if Copia had miscalculated.

Everyone knows how pranks can escalate.

Copia is halfway through the ties and clasps and buttons to get out of his dress cassock when his door bangs open (he hadn’t thought to lock it because he’d assumed everyone was already out on the grounds celebrating). Papa III stands there, panting, with murderous intent in his eyes.

As expected, Papa III finds The Cardinal in a state of half undress (his shapely legs bare and exposed) in his outer office. He’s stopped his ministrations, as if caught in a freeze frame, and staring wide-eyed at Papa. III had come here to really lay into the man, but something about seeing him so caught off guard—like he’s more concerned about changing into his party clothes than how he’s ruined this night for Papa—sets something off on him. Before his brain catches up to his impulses, Papa III is launching himself at The Cardinal, fist drawn back and ready to strike.

But III is a lover, not a fighter. He throws a punch like he’s launching a paper airplane, and The Cardinal easily deflects his attack and—in what can only be a practiced movement—uses his momentum to pin his arm behind his back. He struggles and The Cardinal instantly releases him, hands palm up in appeasement.

“Your Unholiness, please—” starts Copia, but III isn’t here to talk. He goes for Cardinal Copia again, and Copia—expecting another fist—is startled when the palm of III’s hand lands a slap across his cheek. He looks at III, incredulous.

“Did you? Did you just slap me?”

Papa III huffs and raises his chin at The Cardinal.

“Come at me. Bro,” he says in his accented English.

The Cardinal’s mouth drops open, and—before Papa III can relish what he thinks is his victory—Cardinal Copia slaps him hard, right on his cheekbone. Papa is momentarily startled, reflexive tears threatening to spill. When he catches his breath he sees that Cardinal Copia’s eyes are smoldering at him in obvious challenge, so he launches himself at The Cardinal once again.

They both raise their hands to each other, each strike being batted away by the other, until they are both embroiled in very involved, very mature slap fight.

“Stop that!”

“No, you stop that!”

Suddenly Papa III gains the upper, err, hand by gaining a hold on The Cardinal’s wrist; he wrenches it and uses his leverage to push Cardinal Copia on his back onto his desk. The Cardinal goes sprawling, his half undone cassock spreading and exposing his bare legs again. Is he wearing nothing on at all under his ceremonial dress!?

“I see you like to go nude. Let me help you further, dear Cardinal.”

Before The Cardinal has a chance to push him away, III grabs at each side and rips his robes down the middle, belts tearing and buttons popping to scatter every which way, the sound of them skittering across his desk and plinking of the floor now filling the room. The Cardinal grasps frantically at the material, in a vain attempt to keep himself somewhat covered.

Papa III is now panting over The Cardinal, between his legs, and suddenly very aware of the miles of naked skin. Copia is looking up at him with … an unreadable expression. III leans down, gets right into The Cardinal’s face, and says lowly:

“To think I thought of you so chaste. But look at you. Does it give you a thrill? The knowing you could be caught in a compromising position? Or is it the sensation you like, hmm?”

He runs a gloved finger down the sliver of bare chest to where Cardinal Copia is clenching the ends of fabric together with one fist over his crotch. He continues his trail over The Cardinal’s knuckles. His dick gives an interested twitch.

“Even here?”

Copia’s heart is beating fast from the adrenaline; it was foolish of him to forget that he was dealing with a dangerous predator. And now here he is, under him, literally showing his vulnerable belly. Papa III is well within his rights to do anything, take anything, from him. It sets off a tingle of butterflies in his chest.

While III is distracted with his nethers, Copia uses his other hand to grasp Papa III by the hair. Copia yanks his head down, hard, til their lips meet in a painful smack. He opens his mouth to suck Papa’s plump bottom lip into his mouth, then bites down hard, drawing blood.

III makes an indignant noise, his hand suddenly coming up to grab at Copia’s jaw to hold it firmly in place from further injury. His eyes glare a warning.

“Is that how it is to be, Rat?”

Copia just snarls against the grip.

Papa’s hand slithers from Copia’s jaw to lightly clench around his neck. Copia gasps as much as he can with the restriction, his hands coming up to grab at Papa III’s arm. His ruined cassock falls open completely to reveal that the only thing beneath it is a black g-string. III looks down at it and chuckles.

“What a surprising Rat you are.”

His other hand snakes down between their bodies to yank and pull at the g-string until Copia’s half-hard cock bounces free, betraying his interest in the proceedings. Papa III’s eyes widen as he takes in the girth and size of Copia’s member. Looking back up at Copia with a smirk he says:

“It is no wonder then. Why you are so popular for Initiates.”

“Shall … I …” wheezes Copia, “Initiate … you too?”

Papa III is studying his face intently.

“No. No, as leader of Church I feel I have been … remiss in my, ah, duties.”

He runs a light finger up the vein in Copia’s cock, which only plumps it into further hardness. With all the blood rushing into either his head or his throbbing dick, Copia is beginning to feel a bit light-headed.

“As high-ranking official, you must be seen to myself. Forgive my negligence, yes?”

Papa III finally lets go of Copia’s neck only to insinuate himself further into the V of his open legs. Copia is momentarily distracted as the air flows freely into his lungs again, and it’s enough for III to start manhandling him onto his stomach. Copia isn’t going to make it easy for the bastard, so he starts to struggle against Papa, who only makes a tetching noise before slapping him across the face.

“Learn your place, Cardinal,” he growls. “This is what is lacking with you, no? You must learn this anew. I am in charge still. You follow my command.”

“When you do any actual leading, I’ll be sure to follow,” hisses Copia.

Papa III snarls at his insolence, and is suddenly on Copia, turning him over in a burst of rage while also tugging his tattered garments free. He pulls the shreds of the cassock away just enough to not be a hindrance, but not enough that Copia has free use of his arms—they’re still caught in his sleeves and now firmly behind his back. Copia has no leverage, but he starts bucking and struggling anyway; Papa just lays a firm hand on the middle of his back and commands him to settle.

Copia huffs; his cheek is squashed into the desk, all his papers are scattered—some crinkling under him—and the edge of the wood is digging into the pudge of his belly. His cock dangles heavy between legs. Copia wishes he had something to rut against—he’s half turned on and III is being a goddamned tease, as usual.

There’s a rustling and movement behind him before he feels the poke of Papa’s hardness against his ass cheek. He tenses.

Papa III isn’t really sure when his anger turned into lust. Or was it always lust—or is it still anger? All he knows is that he has to have this man beneath him. Has to subdue him and assert his authority in some meaningful way. And he’s not immune to the miles of freckles stark on pale skin or the prominent flesh of which he can take handfuls.

He’s been hard ever since he saw The Cardinal’s cock on its way to full mast. So The Rat likes a little dominance, eh? He’s more than happy to show him who’s boss here. He works his cock and balls free through the slit in his pants. He’s going to fuck The Cardinal with his clothes on. He rubs his cockhead into the meat of The Cardinal’s ass, delighting in the jolts of pleasure from the pressure and the visible trail of precum he’s leaving. The Cardinal is trembling and breathing hard beneath him as his takes his pleasure, and it gives him sudden pause, causing him to stop. He’s about to ask Cardinal Copia if he should cease, when The Cardinal looks over his shoulder at him and huffs impatiently,

“Are you waiting for an invitation?!”

Papa III slowly drags his cock from the meat of Copia’s ass to the cleft.

“I was, actually.”

The Cardinal snorts, “Get the fuck on with it, you brat. Is this how you lead, Your Unholiness?”

III growls in frustration at this infuriating man.

“Shall I take you dry, then?”

He spreads The Cardinal’s cheeks and presses the tip of his cock against his hole. Cardinal Copia hisses.

“Ai! If you can’t use spit then there is lube in the top drawer.”

Papa III scoffs. Spit is so … uncouth. Only to be used when absolutely necessary—he is not an animal. He flounders for the drawer and fumbles for the bottle.

“Lonely nights, eh Cardi?”

The Cardinal leers back over his shoulder. “As you say—I am not unpopular with our Siblings.”

“I see. You are like that trike you ride around, except everybody has a go, no?”

“Just what the pot would say to the kettle.”

After removing his gloves, Papa III haphazardly dribbles some lube on his cock and down Copia’s crack—making sure to rub it into his hole. The Cardinal jolts forward—either at the sensation of Papa’s fingers or the coolness of the lube.

“I would not be so mouthy If I be you, Cardinal. I will show you your place and then things between us will be settled, yes?”

“Shall I say yes and appease you?” quips The Cardinal.

How a man nude and about to be fucked stupid can be so flippant is past Papa. Unceremoniously, he pushes into Copia’s snug ring, exhaling forcefully at his tightness. The Cardinal lets out a punched breath.

“I should very much like your attempts to appease me, Rat,” Papa III says through clenched teeth.

He slides in to the hilt, leans over The Cardinal’s back, and hisses in his ear:

“Will you be a good Rat and appease your Papa?”

The Cardinal lets out a rumbling moan.

Copia is so very full and stretched. He’s no stranger to bottoming, but the Siblings tend to prefer him on top, so it’s been a while. Papa III’s cock feels amazing—just enough to fill him without being obtrusive. Now if only the man will get to it and pound into him hard enough to stimulate his prostate.

“So much … talk. Very little action—just like your leadership,” he says hoping to goad his superior.

Papa III growls and begins to snap his hips into him roughly

“Let’s see if you can handle my big game, hmm?”

Fucking finally.

III drapes himself over Copia’s back, crushing his arms uncomfortably, and boxing him on either side with his arms. Copia hears the man’s panting in his ear and feels the drag of his waistcoat on his uncovered skin. The fill and drag of his cock inside Copia has him shuddering and wishing for some attention on his own dick. Papa is pumping into him fast and hard, but is only really hitting his prostate every several thrusts, which is only a teasing pleasure. With his motion restricted by his own cassock and Papa’s weight, he can’t do much more than grunt out a tempo to each greedy thrust.

“Is this how it is then?” wheezes Copia. “A supple body to masturbate into? No wonder the Siblings come to me.”

Admittedly Papa III is initially enjoying the tight feel of The Cardinal’s body around his dick too much to think of the man underneath him. He’s not one to be rough with his lovers unless they ask him to be, and even then that’s just a game. But The Cardinal is not his lover, this is not a game, and he feels a thrill at the freedom to take out his frustrations on Copia’s body.

Still. He prides himself on being attentive in the sack, so he slows his thrusts, making sure to pull almost all the way out before sliding back in, though his dick is throbbing with need. He positions his mouth at The Cardinal’s ear to ask:

“Do you think you’ve earned my attentions? Have you learned who here is in charge?”

“If I say ‘yes’ will you touch my cock?”

Papa III is thoughtful for a second.

“No. For that you are to beg. Repent and I will bring you to such lustful heights that you will pray to our Master.”

Despite the lip of the man, The Cardinal is quivering under him. Papa III leans up so he can adjust the angle of Copia’s hips and his thrusts. He does this until he hits the angle that makes the man below him moan wantonly. Now that he knows where the sweet spot is, III starts punching into The Cardinal again, his hands on his hips to drag him back forcefully.

“Is. This. What. You. Want?” asks Papa, making sure to punctuate each word with a hard thrust. The Cardinal lets out a gasping Uhn at each hard jolt. “Shall. I. Make. You. Cum. Just. Like. This? On. My. Cock? Or. Will. You. Beg?”

Papa lets himself luxuriate in the tight feel of the slow drag up and down his cock. He could cum very easily just like this if he wanted—but he’s had years of practice on holding off until his sexual partners cum. The Cardinal is in for a long night if he thinks he can wait him out.

Fuck

If Copia thought the tease of his prostate was bad, this concentrated assault is worse. He can climax readily from a good prostate massage, but this is not that. It’s enough to have his desire flowing and his blood pooling south, but the hill of his orgasm remains frustratingly out of reach. He’s truly at Papa III’s mercy. He can occasionally feel his dick throb inside him, but other than that III shows no signs of getting close.

Copia squeezes his eyes tighter as he’s jolted against his desk, papers crumpling further. How much longer can he go on like this? He tries for as long as he can, his world narrowing down to the drag of Papa’s cockhead on his prostate and the grip of his hands on his hips. He’s so lost, floating in a haze of near pleasure, that he doesn’t realize his grunts have turned into whimpers of distress. Not until III stops to pet a hand down his head.

“Dear Cardinal. Pride is not the correct sin to indulge here. Will you not let me absolve you?”

His dick is hard and pulsing, and his need to cum is excruciating. And that’s before Papa III begins pounding into him once more. Copia lets out a moaning whine as the white-hot bursts start up again. Before he realizes what it’ll mean, he’s gasping out a pained Please. There’s a slight pause in the man above him—as if he too is surprised at Copia’s entreaty—then a hand snakes under him to give his flushed dick a hard squeeze. Copia gasps at both the pleasure and the pain in the action.

Papa III leans over him again to snarl in his ear, “Now you will pray.”

And pray Copia does as Papa pounds into him and as his clever fingers stroke and manipulate weeping cock.

“Oh sweet, Unholy Lucifer below!”

Papa III had really thought he’d have to torture The Cardinal until the man couldn’t help but cum on his cock, so he was startled when the man gasped out his supplication. He really was appeased.

He’s entranced with show beneath him: The Cardinal is twitching and thrashing and clenching—and it’s making his own cock throb with need. He wonders how hard he can make Copia cum and a sudden burst of desire from his own gut has him purring out a moan. He strokes the man’s cock, making sure to switch it up enough—a slow stroke, then a thumb across his slit, now a squeeze before speeding up—that each change makes The Cardinal jerk in a new crest of pleasure.

III hopes The Cardinal will cum very soon because he would very much like to let himself climax already. As if in answer, Papa feels the dick in his hand get rock hard a second before he feels Copia’s hole tighten vice-like around his own dick (and he subsequently has to breathe out hard so he’s not cumming before he rides out The Cardinal’s climax).

Then The Cardinal is jittering and spasming while yelling, “Ah ah ah—oh fuck! OH FUCK!” The cock in his fist kicks and Papa III can feel the pulsing waves as his cum shoots out and onto the rug; he tries to keep a steady pace through it, but he’s only a man. The Cardinal spends his whole orgasm jerking and twitching, only coming to rest once he’s good and truly milked empty.

Papa releases The Cardinal’s cock quickly so he can grip back onto his hips for the leverage to finally take his own pleasure. He closes his eyes and fucks hard into The Cardinal’s body as he allows his checked desire to wash over him.

“Ah—yes, Unholy Father.”

He lets the pulse and spasm of his orgasm guide his movements as he empties himself in the warmth of The Cardinal’s hole. He allows himself to stay like that for a moment—hands on Copia’s love handles, slightly bent over him, and panting—while he catches his breath and comes back to himself. Beneath him The Cardinal is a mess: he’s covered in sweat that’s dripping down his sides; the black makeup around his eyes is streaked down his face; there’s some torn paper, now moist, sticking to his cheek.

“Good talk, eh?” he pants as he pats Copia’s sweaty flank.

The Cardinal’s head lolls to the side as he attempts to look him in the eyes.

“Fuck you.”

Papa III chuckles. “Maybe next time.”

Copia doesn’t know if Papa III was kidding, or if he was expecting Their Thing to happen again, but it takes Copia by surprise when it does.

Repeatedly.

If III was thinking that he’d cowed Copia, he was wildly mistaken. Their rivalry only intensifies and if you saw them glaring at each other during sermons or Church rituals, you enter their offices at your own risk lest you get an eyefull. (Some impetuous Siblings and Ghouls will try their hand at joining in, but a dual glare from both their mismatched eyes is enough to send anyone straight to Hell preemptively.)

Not even the confessionals are safe. You don’t even have to get far into the Chapel before you can hear their grunts and barbed words.

The Clergy isn’t really surprised by this turn of events. The two men have been eye fucking since day one. Papa Nihil is resigned that even the promising Cardinal has fallen under his youngest’s spell. Sister Imperator just rolls her eyes and hopes they’ll eventually grow tired of each other and work can get back to being done. She’s only one woman.

It’s one day months into their—ok yes—tryst, that Copia realizes that they haven’t been hate fucking in weeks.

He’s lying in Papa III’s bed as the man himself draws nonsense patterns in the sweat on his chest. Copia had come to him after a frustrating day of first-years who seemed to only have two brain cells amongst them all. He’d vehemently expressed his vexation at their almost willful refusal to retain Latin, knowing Papa would take him in hand and fuck the annoyance out of him. What had started as his attempt to berate Papa III for allowing the new Siblings to be so lazy and a good hate fuck to shut him up, had turned into a genuine arrangement.

Copia’s come to appreciate the care Papa III takes with him, even if it is with mock irritation as he calls him “Rat.” He’s realized that III cares about the Church as much as he does, his verbal sparring with the man enough to prove that he knows his stuff. It’s not that the lackadaisical playboy is an act—it’s not—it’s just hiding deeper waters. He’s shocked to find that he cares for this intemperate man.

He turns his head to look at him.

Papa III stills his hand to return his gaze.

“What is it, my Rat?”

“I think I like you, Papa.”

III’s whole face brightens and he sits up, puffing out his chest.

“Of course you do! Everyone likes Papa. I am the bomb dot com.”

Copia scoffs and pushes at his chest.

“I hate it when you purposefully use slang half your age.”

But III just clucks and wags a finger at him.

“No you don’t! You like me, remember? You said it not 2 minutes past!”

Copia huffs, turning his back on him and crossing his arms across his chest.

“I was perhaps hasty.”

“Aww, dear Cardinal,” Papa coos as he drapes himself over Copia’s back to rest his chin on Copia’s shoulder, arms encircling his middle, “don’t be fussy. I like you too.”

Then, because he’s a little shit, Papa III presses a loud smacking kiss into Copia’s ear.

That night Papa III will go to Copia’s chambers. Copia will be surprised, but pleased to see him. He’ll tell Copia he wants to bottom for him, making the man tremble with nerves and anticipation. The Cardinal will be overly solicitous with his kisses and soft caresses until III has to yell at him to get a move on.

Papa will have already prepped himself with a plug Copia will enjoy teasing out of him. Copia is a reverent, gentle top—no shocker there—and he will fuck Papa firmly and slowly, taking special care that his dick is not neglected. Also not surprising is that Papa III is a pretty bossy bottom—he’ll direct Copia on when to speed up or slow down, until he’ll take matters into his own hands by manhandling Copia onto his back so he can ride his cock. Copia will cum first—Papa is good with his muscles—but III will follow soon after, thrilled as always at the way his lover twitches and thrashes in the throes of orgasm.

Afterward Papa III will ask if he can stay the night—they don’t spend the night together often, but when they do The Cardinal always spends it in Papa’s sumptuous bed chambers—and Copia will reply that he is always welcome.

Papa will joke that it’s only because no one will be able to find him and he can sleep in, but when the Ghouls see that III is not in his bed chambers, the next place they look is in The Cardinal’s.

Bonus: Post-Coitus That First Time

“Papa, what are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious? I am cuddling.”

“Yes, but why?”

“Is it not customary to cuddle after a good fuck?”

“Stop calling it cuddling!”

“Why? What would you have me call it? A good snuggle, then?”

“Ai, that is worse.”

“… is it because I am the big spoon?”

“It is not—whatever! Why are you doing it?”

“I meant it, Cardinal. This unholy parish is mine. I take care of all my black sheep. Especially when they are good rats.”

*nose boop*

“You are mine now. Stop being so grumpy. Enjoy the serotonin.”

#asks #thar be thirst #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iii #in this fic they are unrelated #I don't know how cassocks work #SA

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sunlightdances · 6 years

Text

ONE SHOTS:

SPN Angst Bingo ‘18 Masterlist Dean Headcanons/Bullet point Fics

Newest on top; updated 2/2/2021

Untitled (literally couldn’t think of a title for this lol): PG-13 for swearing She came out of nowhere, knocked him on his ass, and then asked him to apologize. How hard did he hit his head?

Body Language: PG-13 Low blood sugar sucks. Dean’s POV.

Everybody Knows I’m Torn Apart: PG-13 You manage to call Dean a few miles away from the bunker. Despite your injuries, you tell him the basics: you lost too much blood, you need a ride, you’re pretty sure you’re going to pass out soon. His gruff voice over the phone is the last thing you hear before you physically can’t keep your eyes open anymore.

Two Hearts on Fire: PG-13 3 times Dean is there for you and one time you’re able to return the favor.

Stay a Little Longer: PG You let yourself be vulnerable and Dean does too.

You’re an Ocean: PG The never ending push and pull between you and Dean finally comes to an end.

Take My Hand (When You Can’t See the Light): PG-13 (a few swears) Dean plays the knight in shining armor when you meet him by chance. Turns out you’ll meet him several more times. Everything happens for a reason, right?

Winter Air: PG Contrary to popular belief, Dean is a big softy who loves winter.

Slow Days: PG Dean meets you on a slow, lazy day in Lebanon at Christmas.

Come Home: PG Dean comes to your door in the middle of the night. it’s a good thing, too, because you’re gearing up for a fight.

Don’t Go Changing: PG-13 It was never supposed to end up like this. You find out the truth about Dean Winchester.

Dog Days: PG-13 (for violence) Dean rescues a dog and ends up being the one rescued.

Helping Hand: PG After recovering from an injury, you’re having a hard time getting back into fighting form. Dean helps you through it.

Sun Warmed: PG He sits on the edge of the table, watching you as you flit about the room, grabbing a mug, some coffee creamer, and sugar. You wait for him to make a comment about how sweet you like your coffee, but it never comes. Another sign that he’s not entirely himself today.

Untitled drabble: PG Someone is carrying you. Your head jostles until it finds purchase against a broad shoulder, and in your daze you can make out a conversation - though you’re not able to make sense of anything being said.Someone is urging you to open your eyes, You want to do what they ask, you want to ask questions, but you’re so tired.

I’ll Be Your Lifeline Tonight: PG Dean shoulders his own burdens. He always has. And truth be told, it comforted you to think he had it under control. Dean’s always been the one with the plan, the one who knew what to do next. Now that he doesn’t… you can’t lie, it freaks you out. But you have to help him right now. If the tables were turned, he’d do the same for you.

Untitled: PG You stop mid-sentence as you come around the corner into the rec room, seeing him fast asleep on the sofa. There’s a magazine on his lap and a few other books strewn around him, and while this isn’t really that out of the ordinary for him, it’s the glasses tucked into his collar that draw your attention.

It Echoes a Spark: PG-13 “I was on my way home. Traveling. Saw I was driving through town and thought… well, it’s almost our anniversary.” He winks, and it’s amazing how you’re not a puddle of goo right there on the floor.

Wrapped Up in Your Love: Rated PG @sixtysevenandwhiskey asked for: “i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can’t wait to see your face”

Snow & Scarves: Rated PG @lipstickandwhiskey said “I gotta see you do “PULLING YOU IN FOR A KISS WITH A SCARF” because SWOON” and I mean, same, tbh.

Stay Here Til Sunrise: Rated T “You’re making a mental checklist of everything you need to do when you finally stop somewhere - the first thing being calling Sam to let him know his brother got his arm broken trying to be a goddamn hero again, followed closely by getting to a bathroom where Dean can’t see you as you try to calm the fuck down.”

Bruised Hearts: Rated T She sort of, kind of, probably hates him. He tells himself it’s for the best.

Just Let Me Try: Rated T You get in a car accident not far from Dean’s shop and go to him for help. Mechanic!AU. Dean’s POV.

On Your Mark, Get Set, Bake: PG Dean discovers your guilty pleasure TV show.

I Remember Loving You: PG-13 When you think you’re in trouble, you go to Sam and Dean for help, despite the fact that you and Dean haven’t spoken or seen each other face to face in months.

Bright Lights Won’t Leave Me Alone: PG-13 Prompt: “We got involved in a fight at a bar and had to share the night in the same jail cell”

If It Keeps You By My Side: PG-13 The reader reveals something to Dean that turns his world upside down. Written for Annie’s 300 Follower Grand Budapest Motel Challenge!

One More Hour: PG Dean’s tired and can’t hide it from you no matter how hard he tries.

Danger Always Was a Friend of Mine: PG-13 You get stuck driving through a huge storm on your way to the bunker. Dean reacts in a way you don’t expect.

Run, Run, Run Away: PG-13 Dean calls you to go on a hunt he’d otherwise have to take solo. It takes quite a turn.

Lost Hope, Can’t Cope: PG-13 Dean helps you when your anxiety, stress, and everything else jumbled up in your head becomes too much. Alternates between the reader and Dean’s POV.

One Way to Shut You Up: PG A good, old-fashioned post-hunt celebration gives you the courage you finally need.

Now Close Your Eyes: PG You have a hard time letting other people take care of you.

Something About You, I Just Can’t Fight: Rated M You’re pretty sure Dean’s figured out your big, stupid crush on him, and you’re sure it’s only a matter of time before you spontaneously combust.

Loving Everything You Do: Rated T The washer broke. It’s not your fault that the only thing near you at the time was some of Dean’s clothes, okay.

Heavy Heart and a Heavy Mind: Rated T A badly-timed wish on your part and a curse from a witch has you and Dean reconsidering the nature of your relationship. Written for SPN Angst Bingo.

Let the Lonely In: Rated T After a bad day and a sleepless night, the reader and her insecurities are her own worst enemy.

Someone Throw a Lifeline: Rated T While wrapping up a case, Sam and Dean get a weird phone call that has Dean assuming the worst.

Everything You Are: PG Dean’s POV. Dean discovers the pretty librarian he met on a case is a little more “in the know” than he realized.

You’ve Had Me All Along: Rated M You’re so pissed that you’re even in this situation, your hands are shaking from adrenaline and anger. Huffing to yourself, you grab your phone out of your back pocket and dial one of two numbers you know by heart.

More Heart and Less Attack: Rated T The reader shows up at the bunker after being attacked, hurt and on the verge of a panic attack.

One More Time Before I Fall: Rated T This weird tension between you and Dean had to come to a head sometime, and what better time than when you’re trapped in the Impala with him for a long trip?

Untitled drabble: Rated T Dean has to bail you out of jail during a hunt, and isn’t happy about it when he sees you again.

Untitled drabble: Rated T One ghost down, five to go. You’re on your way to rescue the Winchesters.

Untitled oneshot: Rated PG Prompt: “I have been driving for the last 5 hours and all I want is some god damn beef jerky, so GET YOUR HAND OFF THE LAST PACKAGE ON THE SHELF YOU MAY BE HANDSOME STRANGER, BUT NO ONE IS STANDING IN BETWEEN ME AND THAT SALTY SNACK”

Breaks Your Heart Like Lovers Do: Rated PG Anon asked for a angsty fic based on “Happier” by Ed Sheeran. Don’t worry - there’s a happy ending!

Untitled Angst Day drabble: Rated T You’ve been hiding your feelings towards Dean for months, and when you guys have the biggest fight you can ever remember having, you reach a breaking point.

Seeing Eye to Eye and Heart to Heart: Rated T You get hurt on a hunt, and afterwards, Dean starts acting real weird.

Can’t Get You Close Enough: Rated M Dean tears into you after a hunt goes bad, causing you to have a panic attack. He makes a confession to your after, about why seeing you hurt makes him react that way.

I’ll Be Back, Give It Time: Rated M While you’re struggling with your feelings for Dean, you have your first fight.

Untitled drabble: Rated PG. You and Dean have this thing going on. You tease him, he teases you. You don’t expect it to lead to hurt feelings until it does.

Glasses: Rated M. Dean wears those glasses. You have feels.

Lately: Rated M (Dean POV, third person) Dean reflects on his feelings for the reader.

Now And Then I Get A Little Lost: Rated M (mild smut) Established relationship with Dean x Reader. The two of you run into Cassie on a hunt, and seeing Dean’s ex brings up some insecurities.

Got The Flu: Rated M Dean takes care of you when you’re sick, and confessions come in dramatic fashion. You know the drill.

Enough For Now: Rated M (mild smut, language) You haven’t seen Dean in over a year, and the scruff he’s sporting now is doing things to you.

Valentine’s Day oneshot: Rated M. Pure smut. Dean wears that coat. You know the one.

Don’t You Forget About Me: Rated M. Post 12x11. You help Sam figure out how to get rid of Dean’s curse. He doesn’t remember you, but he remembers something.

Untitled oneshot: Rated M (barely any smut, rated for language + dirty talk) The gang have a hunt at the zoo. What could go wrong?

Best Friends?: Rated M Prompt: “We’re best friends and I’ve been in love with you forever and I’m 30000% sure you only see me as a friend, except why is there all this tension rn?

Family Ties: Rated M (mild smut) You didn’t know your stepmom was a witch, okay. It’s not your fault you’ve got a coven on your tail. It’s also not your fault that Dean Winchester hates witches so much.

Untitled drabble: Rated M. Prompt was “comfort” - Dean comforts the reader after a hunt goes wrong and causes her to have nightmares.

Sooner Or Later: Rated M. Prompt was “touch”. Tension relief.

It’s So Clear Now: Rated M. You run into the Winchesters after a few months hunting alone, and when you get hurt, Dean takes care of you. This is a long one - 5K.

You Look Good in My Shirt: Rated M. You borrow Dean’s sweater and it causes him to finally make a move.

You’re A Sight For Sore Eyes: Rated PG. Based on a prompt. Dean helps you sleep when you’re dealing with some anxiety.

The More I’m Gone, The More Things Change: Rated T. You go with the Winchesters to LA to hopefully help them ice Lucifer.

They Call It The Season Of Giving (I’m Here, Yours For The Taking): Rated PG You get a little emotional exchanging Christmas gifts with Dean.

It’s The Same For Me: Rated T. You mess up on a hunt and Dean calls you out for it. Resentful of being treated like a kid, you lash out.

Missing You: Rated T. You and Dean are alone in the bunker for a night when you surprise him with a visit. He’s missed you.

Untitled drabble: Rated T. Dean is so protective of you, it makes you crazy. You fight, and then make out.

Don’t Look Back: Rated T, sequel to “Ain’t Afraid Of No Ghosts”. Dean shows up unannounced to make sure you’re safe as he and Sam investigate some demon signs near your home.

Rescue Drabble: Rated T Sam and Dean rescue you after a close call while hunting, and afterwards, Dean’s guilt leads to a confession.

Happy To See Me?: Rated M (light smut in this one). Imagine seeing Dean for the first time in months, and him not being able to hide how happy he is to see you.

Ain’t Afraid Of No Ghosts: Rated M. You’re not happy when the Winchester brothers show up to steal your hunt, no matter how cute you think the older one is.

PROMPT FICS:

Dean + “dance with me” / “I’ve always loved you”

Dean + “Can you walk?”

Platonic Dean + Lisa being jealous

Dean + “I’d sooner die than deny my feelings for you”

Dean + “You look terrible”

Dean + “No, wait, please. Can’t we talk?”

Dean + “I belong with you”

Dean + chocolate

Dean + fear

Dean + nicknames

Dean + morning routine

Dean + playing with hair

Dean+ fireplace

#sunlightdances masterlist #sunlightdances dean oneshots

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hismissharley13 · 6 years

Text

Eight Years

I hadn’t seen Jax in what felt like forever. He had told me that he didn’t want me coming up to Stockton to visit, I got it. I always panicked when he got hurt and let’s face it, jail time was not about to go smoothly for a member of Samcro. Hell, even if Jax wasn’t a patch, he’d find trouble. That guy had a knack for it.

I figured I’d head over to the clubhouse, everyone was going to be heading straight there...Jax wouldn’t live ‘til the next day if he didn’t see Gemma straight away. Honestly, the woman was a force to be reckoned with. Past experience taught me that she had no issue with coming to see her son, regardless of what he was doing. She never batted an eye the time he’d visited me first when he returned from a run, he’d been balls-deep in me and she just walked in like she owned the damn place.

Don’t get me wrong, I liked her. She was a caring woman with a huge heart, who’d do absolutely anything to save her family. She just expected to be put first. I got that, I really did. So that’s why I resolved to meet him at the club house each time. It saved me the embarrassment.

The celebration was in full swing by the time I’d arrived, I wanted to make sure that I looked my best. My long hair swung slightly with each step, tendrils teased wayward by the slight breeze. The heels of my boots clacked loudly on the sidewalk, then crunched as I reached the gravel by the club. There were a few people outside, chatting in the cool evening air. As I approached, Gemma turned and greeted me with a megawatt smile,

“Hey there sweetheart, up for a party?”

“Hi Gem, I’m looking forward to seeing that son of yours,” I hugged her in greeting and she motioned me inside,

I got two steps into the club and the room spun. Well, I was spun around in a pair of trunk-like arms. I let out a laugh of half-surprise, half-amusement as Opie set me back on my feet with a grin,

“Welcome home, Ope,” I giggled at him. Even in the gloom I saw the bruised eye and cut above his brow and frowned. Leaning up on tip-toes I kissed his whiskery cheek before stepping around him. There was a lot of people here this evening, as usual it took me an age to even make it as far as the bar. I tended to stay out of the way when Jax wasn’t about, so everyone took the opportunity to catch up with me, too.

I leaned across the bar to give Chibs a kiss hello, grimacing as my bare forearms stuck to the tacky residue of liquor on the bar-top. He grinned, the dimples deepening around the scars on his cheeks as he handed me a cloth to wipe my arms,

“Sorry lass, the prospects hav’nae got the hang of pouring the drink intae the glasses instead of over the bar yet,”

“S’ok Chibby, I’ll live. Can I have a whiskey and coke please?”

I watched as he poured, the golden liquid coating the glass, two finger widths up the side, three cubes of ice and topped with cola. Chibs always made the perfect mix, he knew exactly how I liked it and always had a smug look on his face when i smacked my lips in approval at the first taste.

“See boys? Tha’s how tae make a woman smile,” he winked at me roguishly. I couldn’t help but grin back at him. Turning my back on the bar, I scanned the room for the one I’d come to see. I strained to see over the heads of those in the club and failed. Huffing to myself I climbed up onto the bar to better view the room; Bobby and Juice were at the pool table, looked like they were playing pairs with a couple of crow eaters, there was Lyla talking to Clay and Piney. Shit. Lyla being here meant Ima was likely sniffing round the place too. If she was sniffing round the club she was indubitably sniffing round Jax. Jax who I couldn’t currently see. I dropped my gaze and saw two blue eyes looking up at me, crinkled in a grin. I squatted down onto my haunches and Tig’s hands grabbed my hips, lifting me down to the floor with ease,

“Hiya Tiggy,” I mumbled in his ear as he squeezed me into a hug, “Where’s my guy?”

“Hey baby-doll, I think he went to his bunk. I’ve not seen him for a little while. You doin’ ok beautiful?”

“Yeah I’m good thanks, glad to have you all back,”

“Damn good to be back, I tell ya. Now go find Jax,” he ushered me off with a wicked leer and a smack on the ass.

A few more hugs and hellos got me to the corridor. I brushed my fingers along the blue tank of JT’s bike fondly as I passed, the sensation of the cool metal comforting. I took a mouthful of my drink, feeling the warmth slide down my throat and settle in my belly. As I reached Jax’s room, I noticed the door was shut. Maybe he just needed some alone time; not something he would have had much of this last eight months. I stood motionless for a short time outside the door, my eyes tracing the grain of the wood as my mind processed the trains of thought, the anticipation building within me. I filled my lungs and pushed the air out in a slow stream as I grasped the brass of the door handle. The metal turned easily in my fingers and the door separating me from Jax swung away.

In times of trauma, most people describe it afterwards like it happened in slow motion, or so fast it was a blur. That wasn’t what it was like for me. Everything happened in real time, but I noticed every detail.

The spin of the glass as it left my hand.

The drops of liquid as they formed an arc.

The change of expression on Jax’s face.

The smug smirk on Ima’s.

The scuffle as Jax pulled his jeans up.

The smash of the glass against the wall.

The tone of regret in his voice as he said my name.

The crawling feeling of my skin when he touched me.

“It’s not what it looks like,”

I shrugged my arm roughly out of his hands. Hands that less than a minute ago had been rocking Ima onto his dick.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot, Jax.” I said coldly. At that moment, I felt nothing but disgust.

“Please, wait, just-”

“-just what, Jax? What the hell do you think you’re doing? No, you know what? I don’t give a shit. I don’t care what you have to say,” He reached for me again and I held a finger up in warning, “NO, you don’t get to fucking touch me,”

“Where are you going?” he pleaded in a pained voice as i whirled around and stalked down the corridor,

“It’s really not your business any more.” I replied stonily. I wasn’t going to give him or Ima the satisfaction of my rage. I strode into the thick of the party and collided with Tig,

“Whoa where’s the fire?” he grabbed my arms instinctively and caught sight of my face, “Baby what’s wrong?”

I looked up into his concerned face mutely. His lips drew into a line and he ushered me into the club room. Once the doors had shut, he thumbed away the tears that had escaped onto my cheeks. Ducking down slightly he asked me again,

“What’s wrong?”

“I, uh, don’t think Jax and I are gonna work out,” I whispered with a watery smile. Our attentions were drawn to the sudden lack of music. Jax’s voice rang through the quiet,

“Where’s Kat? Has anyone seen her?”

Tig looked at me and I just shook my head. I couldn’t bring myself to face Jax. Not right then. Not after what he had just done. He took my cue and slid out into the main room. I heard Clay’s voice answer first,

“What’s up, son?”

“I need to speak to Kat, where is she?”

“I uh, think she left, brother,” Oh Tig, thank you, “she seemed to be in a hurry, man,”

“Shit,”

A few moments of murmured voices indicated Jax leaving. Tig sidled back into the room where I remained stood in the dark, trembling. Clay pushed the door open slowly,

"Wanna tell me what's got you lyin’ to your VP?"

"Look, all I know is Kat is upset and Jax seems to be th-ah shit, you gotta be kidding me," Tig had looked over Clay's shoulder and must have seen Ima emerging from the dorms. Lyla's shrill demand from the other side of the window confirmed it,

"Really, Ima? Jax? Are you serious?"

Her smug purr made me want to smack her mouth to the other side of her face as she replied,

“Oh please, Lyla, he was practically begging me for it. Who am I to deny the Vice Pres?”

Clay's indistinct growl pulled my attention back as he let the door swing shut again. I wasn’t even aware that I was crying at first. Tig's arms were suddenly enveloping me as silent sobs racked my body. I got control of myself and concentrated on the scent of leather and Tig's cologne to ground me again. He was stroking my hair softly, his chin resting on top of my head as he held me tight to him. As I made to move, he loosened his grip but kept hold of me. His eyes searched mine as I sniffled,

"Please tell me he wasn't as stupid as I think he was,"

My nod confirmed Tig's suspicion. He dragged a hand down his face in exasperation,

"Stupid sonofa-" the door opening again interrupted his sneer. I noticed the music had started again when Clay came back into the room,

"I figured sending him out somewhere would be the best option, I don’t know what happened but I think I have a fair idea,” he looked expectantly at Tig.

“Yeah, good. I'm gonna take Kat to my room until this is figured out. Do me a favour boss, get rid of that fucking gash Ima,"

Clay's face twisted into a cruel smile, "I'll get Gemma right on it,"

I had no idea what his plans were, right then I didn't care. I just wanted time to process what the fuck had happened. I remained silent as Tig ushered me wordlessly to his bunk, thankfully the opposite end of the corridor to Jax's. He sat me on the bed and left, returning with two glasses and a bottle of Jamiesons.

I watched as Tig poured the whiskey, handing me a glass and sipping his own.

"You gonna talk to me, sweetheart?"

I heaved a sigh and swallowed a mouthful of my drink,

"When I opened the door to his room, I was gonna surprise him. Seems I was surplus to requirement. He was fucking her into the bed...

...I know on a run there's sweetbutts and things happen, I accept that. I don't ask. I don't want to know. But he's not on a run, Tig, he's home. I don't know why, I don't-" a slug of whiskey calmed the sobs threatening to break through, "It hurts. God it hurts so bad," the tears flowed freely as I acknowledged the pain. I had no more to say,

"Let it out baby doll,"

I held my head in my hands as I felt myself crumble. I couldn't believe he'd done that to me. All the promises, all the ‘I love you’s, it all meant nothing. Eight long years. I wondered how long he'd been cheating for? After all, if he'd done it once...

The mattress sank to my left as Tig sat down next to me. He topped off my glass first then his own before offering me a cigarette. I took it and allowed him to light it for me. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as I exhaled the smoke. When we had finished in silence, he spoke softly,

"You found a level?" He instinctively knew not to ask if I felt better. Like I could.

"Lil bit," I chewed my lip as I contemplated the liquor swirling in the glass. I took another mouthful as I considered my request carefully, "I don't wanna be alone tonight,"

"Ok sweetheart, you want me to call someone for you?"

"No, I don't want everyone to know. Can I stay here?" I instantly felt guilty. Tig had been just as confined as the rest whilst inside, no doubt he'd be wanting a release, "no, sorry Tig. Forget I asked. I'll go back to the apartment, I've no doubt you've got some catching up to do," I shook my head with a smile,

"Like hell you will,"

"But,"

"But nothing, sweetheart. You're hurting. I'm here for you. Anything you need. I'll sleep on the floor, you can take the bed,"

"Tig I'm not kicking you out of your own bed on your first night of freedom, share with me,"

Tig looked at me carefully, studiously, like he was trying to read my thoughts.

"You sure you wanna?"

"Look, the guy I've spent eight years of my life with has hurt me tonight beyond measure. Even if you screwed me and dropped me tomorrow, I don't think I could feel any worse,"

“Oh baby, no,” I didn’t know how much of Tig’s sigh was sympathy and how much was denial. I felt his eyes searching within me. I was suddenly very aware of how close his body was to mine. He shifted slightly towards me and the mood in the room shifted with him.

The air pressed on every inch of my skin. I felt as if we were connected by an invisible band, pulling me in closer. I felt like I was drowning. Like he was my oxygen. I needed him. My eyes moved from his electric blue gaze to his lips, watching his tongue dart out across the length of his lower lip. I felt myself moving closer to him. He reciprocated. I trapped my lip between my teeth, allowing it to pull itself free as my eyes flicked back to his. His fingers ran the length of my jaw as he grazed the pad of his thumb along my lips. I felt the cool metal of his jewellery in stark contrast to the heated flush of my cheek.

“Sweet girl,” he shook his head a little from side to side as his fingers edged round the back of my neck, “you deserve so much better,” his gaze grew darker as he moved his face towards mine.

I wanted him to know me. I needed him to heal me. I had to feel wanted. Worth something. I leaned ever closer, intoxicated by the intertwining aromas of whiskey, smoke and leather mixing with his cologne. My eyes closed momentarily, an invitation.

The spark ignited the charged atmosphere as our lips met...

@charmingoutlaws

@cole-winchester

@hanaissupergirl

Special thanks to my beta readers @twistedrunes @5sos1dsex @scarnotmufasa and @cole-winchester for your eyes and feedback!

#soa #soa jax #soa opie #soa chibs #soa tig #soa clay #soa gemma #sons #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #charmingoutlaws1kchallenge #jax x reader #tig x reader #jax teller #tig trager #clay morrow #gemma teller morrow #chibs telford #opie winston

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lmorg149 · 5 years

Text

Dog Bakugou & Kirishima X Reader

I don't really think I'm allowed to call this a headcannon anymore because of how long it had gotten. It resembles an actual story more but because most of the lines aren't exactly true sentences and everything is described in light to medium detail I'm just going to call it a very VERY long headcannon. I apologize for how long this got but the ideas just kept flowing into my head. I wasn't able to edit this as this took me hours to write already I just didn't want to do it, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes I may have made. But with that said I really do hope you enjoy my story-thing.

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• Bakugou and Kirishima were turned into dogs because of someone's quirk

• On accident though

• It happened when they ran into a lady who was being chased by a dog

• And since her quirk forces whomever she touches to turn into whatever animal she was thinking of the time caused them to turn into dog

• Bakugou is a Pomeranian and Kirishima is a Dutch Shepard

• You being the animal lover you are you volunteered to take care of them

• The quirk user said they'd be stuck like that for probably at least a week as her quirk can stay in affect for a very long time and she was terrified

• The poor lady had a phobia for dogs

• You had gotten permission from the principle to keep them in your dorm to keep them from getting in trouble

• The first couple days were awkward as boundaries were established

• Kirishima settled in fairly quickly but Bakugou obviously didn't want to be there

• DOG HAIR EVERYWHERE

• You didn't exactly know what exactly to feed them since you were sure they didn't exactly want to be fed dog food

• You ended up googling what dogs could eat

• You ended up feeding them meat and whatever vegetable was healthy for a dog

• You had to walk them every morning, before you enter to school and before you went to bed

• After you came back from school you would take them out into the Commons area or sat outside, letting them do as they pleased while you studied

• You had to keep all your notes and make your notes very detailed so when they did turn back they could look at them and understand

• You gave them a lot of affection

• As you still are a big animal person you couldn't help yourself

• Lots of doggy kisses and hugs

• Kirishima didn't mind much and would definitely be up for doggy cuddles and hugs

• He would place his head on your lap, which most times you don't mind but when he lays down on your text book it gets kinda obnoxious

• Bakugou starts biting when you try to give him doggy kisses

• Secretly he likes the attention, especially the hugs

• He'll get jealous when you give a lot of attention to Kirishima but he'd never admit it

• He'd just attack Kirishima to get him away from you

• Lemme tell you, just because he's smol doesn't mean he's not ferocious

• Their quirks are still activated but they're a lot lower of a level

• So expect to get blasted at first from an angry Pomeranian when you try to give love and to get a couple scratches as Kirishima gets use to the new body

• Of course they sleep in the bed with you

• They were still humans at one point and you didn't want to male them sleep on the hard, cold floor

• Kirishima would sleep very close to you, sometimes with his head laying on your chest

• He's a big cuddlerer and of course

• Bakugou would sleep as far away from you and Kiri as he could get

• But in the mornings you'd find him snuggled up to your side and if your laying on your back you'd find him on sleeping on your chest

• You'd smile and softly pet the two until its time to wake up

• Most of the time Bakugou wakes up from the petting, growling and nipping at you, but not moving away from your hand

• There was a time while walking them and a wild German shepard started charging at you from across the street

• How quickly they were able to take it down surprised you

• Before you could react Bakugou launched over the dog and blasted it's back, making it fall on its stomach in what you could only assume was shock

• Before it could get up Kirishima pinned it down in his unbreakable form

• Lemme say it was pretty scary look for a dog and I think the German shepard agreed

• It didn't try to fight, not like it could move Kirishima anyways

• Bakugou stood closely beside you growling and explosions coming from his front paws, damaging the ground

• Who would've thought a small pomeranian could be intimidating

• Both somehow able to shread or completely burn their leash

• You stood in shock for a couple moments before you called animal patrol

• When animal patrol came they were confused on what was happening, animals with quirks? What has thus world come to?

• They started panicking and pulled put their tranquilizer guns, yelling at you to step away from the dogs

• Your face filled with fear and you also started panicking

• You yelled at the people saying that they weren't the problem, and it was a long story

• ... Let's just say you were very late for class as you had to explain the whole story to them to get them to back down

• The fact that the two didn't back down from them either, especially Bakugou, just made things worse

• Aizawa understood though

• Well you thought he did, he could've just not have cared of the reason why, just that you were finally here

• Cause we all know he secretly cares for all of his students, even if he'd never admit it

• Todoroki and Momo were nice enough to lend you their notes for the class you missed

• Not that you asked for Momo's notes but you were grateful none the less

• When you got back to your dorm the boys were sitting by the door and when you opened the door they were immediately at your legs

• Kirishima was sniffing you as if checking to see if you were okay

• Bakugou was just sitting in front of you staring at you intensely

• When you tilted your head and gave him a huh he seemed to lose interest

• He, somehow, scoffed and walked away

• You walked in and looked for their leashes so you could take them for a walk only to remember that they destroyed them earlier that morning

• Groaning, you decided that you had to trust them not to run off

• Though you didn't feel like you could watch both of them at once as they tend to do whatever they want, especially Bakugou

• So you decided that you ask your close friend Todoroki to help watch them

• Granted you knew that Bakugou probably wouldn't enjoy it but you figured if he was to busy thinking of ways to destroy Todoroki he'd be to detracted and stay out of trouble

• So off you went

• Todoroki agreed to help you since he knows how prone you are to bad luck and will most likely end up losing on of the dogs and end up having a panic attack, even when you knew that the two know how to get back to the dorm and you'd stay close to campus for the walk

• Though you ended up enjoying the walk yourself, you had a nice conversation with Todoroki even if he didn't say much, you were use to it, you don't think that Bakugou enjoyed it that much, but Kirishima didn't seem to mind much

• You went back to the dorms and you noticed that Bakugou looked like he was bruting

• And holy crap was it cute

• You picked him up and hugged him, calling him a cutie and saying how adorable he was

• He might have, okay to totally, bit you because of that but it wasn't extremely hard and wasn't unexpected so it didn't affect you that much

• But you did out him down

• After giving him a doggy kiss of course

• You played around with Kirishima for a while

• Also giving him doggy kisses, just a lot more cause he seemed to enjoy them

• You decide it was time to eat and fed then

• You studied for a little while before taking them out for their night walk, this time bringing along Ashido since she wanted to go

• Afterwards you snuggles with the dogs, mostly Kirishima but at least Bakugou was now sleeping closer to you having warmed up to you and the situation

• It has been around 3 weeks since they turned into dogs and you still couldn't tell if they were going to turn back soon or not

• You got that answer when you woke up to a heavy weight on your chest

• You had looked to see what it was and saw a half naked human Bakugou, well mostly human as he still has ears and a tail, laying on your chest in only a pair of boxers

• He'd probably moved there as in his tiny dog form not expecting to transform back into his human-ish form

• You had to push him off so you could breath which woke him up

• And he was not happy

• His yelling woke up Kirishima, who had also turned into a half naked human with dog ears and tail, who was sleeping at your side

• Neither if them realized they turned back until they made eye contact and realized the other had turned

• Kirishima panicked at first while Bakugou kinda celebrated by yelling 'hell yeah'

• They both went back to their rooms to get cleaned and change while you went to go find Mr. Aizawa to tell him they had turned back, kinda

• They both came down to the Commons area a while later

• Both of them looked awkward which was probably because of the tail with the pants

• When the rest of the class saw them they literally started letting them, which they did do when they were dogs but it looked kinda weird now

• Kirishima didn't seem to mind much but Bakugou was PISSED

• Oh he couldn't wait til training so he could kick the crap out of them for this

• Went it came to to start leaving for school you left the dorms, both of them following behind you

• At first they didn't think anything of it but then they realized they were following you like dogs after they saw you looking at them with a raised eyebrow

• Kirishima got flustered and apologized while Bakugou just 'tch'ed and walked ahead of you, though he still stayed relatively close

• You thought you saw a vague glance of blush in his cheeks when he passed by

• They did still follow you around all day though

• You got so many weird looks

• I mean they would have gotten weird looks because of the ears and tail but because they were following you around it made it look like you had two dogs by your side and you were their master

• While that technically was the case before, it doesn't matter right now

• They even followed you to your room after school

• You gave them the weirdest look when they were still behind you went you tried to enter your room

• They scattered to their own room pretty quickly

• A couple hours latter though you hear a knock on your door that interrupts you from cleaning the dog hair that was LITERALLY EVERYWHERE and went to go answer it

• Kirishima was at the door asking you to help him with the notes from class you took for them

• You agreed and helped him study

• You were studying for about an hour before your door swung open and Bakugou walked in, no knocking or anything, just waltzes right in

• He freezes for a second when he sees you and Kirishima at the desk together

• He growls quietly before walking over to your bed and laying down

• You ask what he need and he just grunts, not even looking in your direction and pulls out his phone and starts doing whatever in it

• You sit there confused for a second before deciding to ignore him for the time being

• You continue to help Kirishima with his work

• You made really good progress with Kirishima before you decided to head to bed

• Only to notice Bakugou was still on your bed, his eyes lazily drooping, focusing in and out if whatever he was looking at

• You stand over your bedside staring at him until he finally acknowledges you

• You ask him why he's still here and tells him that he should go to his room if he's so tired

• You gives no response, only stating at you before suddenly grabbing you and pulling you onto your bed

• You give a light screech at this

• You end up on your back with Bakugou laying his head on your chest

• You ask what he was doing and he only tells you to shut up and that this was your fault

• You were going to ask what he was talking about when you noticed Kirishima staring at you from your desk

• He was giving you puppy eyes, whether they were intentional or not you didn't know

• You sigh and realize that he want to join and sleep with you like he's been doing for the last couple weeks (stop it you impure children, I didn't mean it like that)

• You swing your free arm out towards him, telling him is was okay to join on the bed

• His eyes might up and his ears perk up and his tail wags

• Which was cute AF

• You stop him right before he reaches you

• He gives you sad and confused eyes, he ears and tail dropping

• Your heartbreaks at this and you tell him that it's okay and that you just want him to turn off the lights

• He starts beaming again and quickly turns off the lights and joins you on the bed

• He snuggles to your side just like he did when he was a dog

• Sleeping like this became a regular occurrence for a little while

• But it slowly stopped becoming a thing, especially when the tail and ears finally disappeared and the clingy dog nature left their body

• You still hung out a lot though

• Your room had become a normal hangout spot for you three and they would still sometimes follow your around

• The latter mostly being Kirishima as Bakugou was would be in front of you two

• Expect your privacy and free time to be almost gone cause either of them, or both, will just show up outside your door at random time, of barge in depending on which of the two we're talking about

• You three almost always study together nowadays and they started to train with you whenever you decided to

• They gave great tips tbh

• The protectiveness over you as their caretaker when they were dogs changed into protectiveness over you as a friend

• (Or maybe something more, idk I haven't thought if I want a part two yet)

• So whenever your in any sort of trouble they'd either be close by or show up very quickly after a call or text

Bonus:

• YOU STILL FIND DOG HAIR IN RANDOM PLACES AROUND YOUR ROOM

• It's like the hair will forever haunt that room

• But you don't regret it

• Cause having to deal with dog hair was worth it to have had the two bestest dogs in the world with you

• And you'd do it again

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vacationcalendar · 3 years

Text

8/15/21

Missed another day. Felt sickly, bailed on everything. God, I really hope I’m sick, in the traditional sense. I’ve unfortunately begun to invite the idea that I’ve got cancer or something, and that’s why I feel this way. So I hope I’m sick, for my sake. Because if this thing ends up being a big deal, my “wait it out until it goes away or I die” approach is gonna feel a little foolish.

It’s a couple things. It’s that sickly energy. That lethargy that feels unexpected, that 10 hours of sleep without making some big plan for that. Like, I feel like if I’m feeling gassed (I can’t think of the word I’m looking for here. Crushed? Fucked? Tuckered? no. Goosed? It might actually be goosed, even though I’m looking at it right now, and that can’t be the right word. It might just be the one I’m thinking of. Oh well) and I acquiesce to sleep real early, and then I STILL sleep til like 9:45; I take that as my body needed sleep and was using it well. Like, if I was just indulging my bored impulses to bail on life and wait for something interesting to happen, I’d find myself becoming restless at some point. I’d cap out on my sleep bucks. But since I’m not, I’m inclined to trust my instincts here. So that’s a point for “sick.”

I’ve also got some sneezing happening. And the general malaise. And instead of cramming liquids and fruit, I have instead done absolutely nothing. So these are all good signs actually. I WANT to be sick. The alternative at this point is that something is seriously wrong with me, and that would fucking suck. That’s not the Fun-employed I signed up for. The point I’m referring to that isn’t pointing directly towards sick is extremely obvious to the me writing this right now, but for posterity’s sake, allow me to describe it. It’s a certain sensitivity on my skin on only the right side of my head. Not my face, my head. It starts at the right side of my face and ends at nearly the center of the back of my head. And on the Y-axis it starts at right around the top of my ear and all the way to halfway down my neck. That sector of my body is EXTREMELY sensitive. Sensitive to the point of feeling pain like a sunburn or rug burn from seemingly any form of contact. Craning my neck around actually is enough to irritate it. You can only imagine that some of my more “intense” activities of wearing headphones and lying down on my side on a pillow are causing me the most concern right now.

Actually I just scratched the side of my head right now just to see, and it was so extreme of a sensation that I could tell my brain partially blocked it out. This is so weird. I am constantly checking every inch of the affected area for some sort of bump or abnormality, like maybe a spider bit the side of my head and this is my body’s reaction to that. I keep thinking, wow I wonder if anti-histamines would instantly solve this, and then in a week’s time it will subside. But I don’t have anti-histamines, I’ve never needed them. That circumstance has never happened to me in my life. So why would it come into play out of nowhere right now? Also, a quarter of my head? Really? I got some allergic reaction just on a 4″ by 4″ section on one side of my head? Where did that part of my head go that would have suffered some sort of rash that the rest of my body would manage to avoid? (My pillow is literally the only answer, why tf would it be my pillow?) Also, it’s not a rash. I can’t see ANYTHING different on my head. Wouldn’t a rash look at least a little different than the rest of my skin. This is so weird.

Ok, I just looked it up to confirm. It’s literally just an allergic reaction, hypersensitivity. So since I have no allergies, it’s gotta be a bug bite or something. God, this is so weird. It varies in it’s obnoxiousness to be clear. And it sounds like a benadryll would help. Maybe I’ll see if Bonnie has any. Then I can know for sure. But since it’s not getting WORSE, in either scope or intensity, I’m going to stick with my plan to fucking ignore this fucking thing.

Sorry, this is basically pointless to write about. But I realized this morning something. I’m slowly moving towards proliferation in my writing. I’m writing at such a higher volume, and comfortability, than when I started. I’m defaulting towards writing so much more easily than before, it’s great. I tell myself, I don’t want to do the blog, then I see a post about Voyboy, and I just sit down and write something to him. And that’s an idea I’ve had in the past but balked at. I saw it as writing for it’s own sake; it wouldn’t be a big deal to him or me to actually do it. But two days ago I just sat and hammered it out. And I didn’t slave over creating it. I mean, I cared about how it looked and what it said, but I never got jammed up on its creation. It just came together, and I was inclined to sit here and make it come together. I’ve crossed a clear threshold, and it feels great. And then! After I wrote it, I thought, “Ok, that’s my creative writing done for the day. Let me post that on the blog and be done.” I sat down to post it, and in my attempt to quickly preface it for clarity, I ended working through what I was feeling at the time. I ended up blogging anyway. I didn’t worry about it. I didn’t sit down and make myself get to work, like I had been doing for MANY of these posts up to this point. And I’m doing that very thing again today. This should be noted and celebrated Max. You can in fact write and you are not an impostor. Congrats!

I noticed it while I was out at breakfast, when I had an idea listening to How Did This Get Played?. I feel like I’ll often have an opinion or a curiosity occur after hearing them discuss a topic about video games, but this time I paused the podcast and pull out my notes app and started writing it out. And after a minute or so of writing, I found that I had A LOT more to write out than my initial question for the podcast. I wanted to record my thoughts and observations about something. I have evolved from listening to, I don’t know, listening+. I’m listening and taking things in and instead of silently absorbing them I’m absorbing out loud. I’m learning things in my own company and unpacking things as they come my way. This “active rumination” functions a lot like chewing in the food sense, better digestion. I’m thinking so much more by making myself explain my own thoughts out loud before I allow them to disappear back into my memory.

I honestly can’t believe I didn’t think this would be helpful for expanding my own ability to generate thoughts. I mean, I suppose I did. I assumed that diligently sitting here and working on this would make this easier to do. I just didn’t specifically think about HOW it make writing easier. It’s easier because I think of things in terms of articulating them. I mean, duh. Oh man, even right now, I’m thinking of so many things at once, and my impulse is to write them all out here. Although my biggest impulse is to consider this amount I’ve already shown up (and the part I worked out on my notes app earlier) a job well done, and I can clock out and go back to checking out and watching LCS. It’s TL vs TSM in Winner’s 2nd round. Winner get’s a guaranteed World’s spot, and the loser will have to go through EG or C9 to punch their ticket. So yeah, this is banger city. I honestly consider these World’s implication games to be more hype than the championship itself. I mean the championship is going to be between two teams that no matter who wins, instantly go into preparing for World’s. And the success of the year is going to be impacted so much more on that stage than on this one. We will remember who won the NA trophy EVENTUALLY. Come Spring next season. But this whole thing is so much smaller once you consider that beating a team from Korea would instantly outshine any accomplishment achieved on American soil. Like, how can you even get excited for the Championship here when it takes place at the foot of the mountain that is a World Championship? Like the Australian Basketball League surely gets excited for their Final for the season. But if afterward, BOTH teams got invited to play in the play-in round of the NBA playoffs? It would actively steal excitement from the original final, by way of siphoning some of the exciting for the Semi-Final. Hype is a zero sum game. If I’m getting EXTRA hype during the semis because of the implications it presents for the future, I think I have to by definition be less hype for the final after that.

I mean, imagine only ONE team from NA gets to go to World’s each year. Holy shit people would tune in for that final like no other. That would be PEAK hype. It wouldn’t be shared with anything else, and the stake’s wouldn’t be split up. It wouldn’t be one team looking for a chance to qualify, and a separate team looking for the Domestic Title. It would be everything. The Title would BE the qualifying act. It would be the end-all be-all, like every other sport. Your victory parade would be a parade TO THE AIRPORT, as you left for the big enchilada. There’s no, “Aww, they lost NA, but that might actually give them a better vantage point going into Worlds. They have a better idea of what to work on in the interim.” I think that’s kinda weak. And now I realize this means I have to grapple with the idea that my dream World’s tournament is only like 6 teams big. Only the champs from each region. Now World’s can’t take like 2 weeks. The coolest event the sport can have would be over in a flash. That is the price we all pay for the true glory of being the REAL NA CHAMP. The chance to be THE ambassador of our region. I guess that’s about all there really is there.

I’m tuning in and out now. I think I will actually call it there for right now. Maybe I come back later in the day? That could be kinda fun. Who knows? I mean, c’mon. No way right? It’s literally never happened. Eh, whatever. You keep doing you, man. You’re killin’ it (sunglasses emoji)

Love ya

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parentjournal290-blog · 5 years

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Excitement About When To Buy Maternity Clothes

Not known Details About Maternity Clothes

She was right. I really believe that the truth that I bought those clothing so early assisted me to gain a bit way too much weight over the course of that pregnancy (like 10 extra pounds excessive, which really did not simply melt off after the child was born!). READ: Where to Buy Maternal Clothing So my guidance to you, pregnant mamas of the globe, is to wait.

( Below's Princess Kate -- so you'll have plenty of postpartum time to use those comfy maternity panel jeans. As soon as you've begun to actually reveal (as well as not just when you're staring at on your own in the mirror, wishing to see a teeny small pooch), that's a great time to go out to the stores or go on the internet and also shop to your heart's material.

Or, also better, the clothing that can do both. That means when you're wearing them postpartum they're wonderful and loose but you can easily access your milk-makers for a shrieking baby at any moment. As well as yes, it will go to any kind of time and also at whenever. The most effective thing I got was an entire bunch of economical nursing container tops (something such as this ) that I used below my garments nearly on a daily basis to ensure that I maintained my tummy stretch marks wonderful as well as covered.

The Single Strategy To Use For Maternity Outfits

In a manner, they are. You're growing an entire brand-new human, nevertheless, which your body has to readjust and also make area for. And afterwards your body needs to eject that human as well as try to acquire itself back to normal. It can take a good year or so later to really feel like on your own in your body once more.

There is absolutely nothing like having an infant in your life. As well as no issue how much weight you acquire, the number of stretch marks are indelibly tracked across your stomach as well as busts, or how much cash you invest in maternity clothes-- it is all worth it.

Maternity can be an interesting, yet attempting, time. Mamas-to-be must balance everyday activities with survey of greater than 15,000 women, 30% spent $200 to $500 simply on pregnancy clothing. Another 24% spent anywhere from $100 to $200. That is a great deal of money for clothing that only last a few months! Nonetheless, there are a number of methods to save cash on pregnancy clothes that can reduce both the expenses as well as the anxiety in your life.

The Greatest Guide To Buying Maternity Clothes

But where is the fun in that? Maternity is a gorgeous point and clothing sloppily in ill-fitting clothing will just make you feel a lot more self-conscious about your expanding body. Instead, do not hesitate to look classy and also feel good concerning on your own, all on an economical budget plan. Exactly how do you minimize maternity garments? Do you think that clothing wonderful while pregnant makes you feel better?.

Being expectant is a beautiful point however weight gain, liquid retention, bloating, swelling and also frequent urination can wreak chaos with your wardrobe!To help you get with the whole 9 months easily, Angel Pregnancy have gathered some top pointers for buying maternity clothes. Seek maternity clothes that have functions to see you throughout from fertilization to birth.

When purchasing tops, look for ruching or gathers on the side of maternity tops that will fit you right up till shipment day. When purchasing tops, also take into consideration size. It requires to be enough time to cover your bump, also if you're expecting doubles - or triplets! Seek clothing that are likewise nursing pleasant.

When To Buy Maternity Clothes for Beginners

It's worth seeing to it you can make use of as lots of products both before as well as after bub's arrival. When acquiring tops, look for ones that have very easy nursing accessibility or have switches down the front. Angel Maternity's nursing tops are made to make feeding as comfortable as well as discreet as possible. If you do not intend to buy certain nursing tops, try to find products that have bands that can easily be taken down, a reduced neck line or side gain access to Purchase nursing singlets and/or tanks - this way you can still put on every one of your preferred tops even if they aren't nursing friendly.

Reversible clothing is terrific as you essentially get 2 items in one as well as is a terrific method to develop the look you want with very little items. It's also an excellent area saver in your wardrobe and also will certainly suggest less washing - hoorah! Buy the fundamentals. The one point most definitely worth buying is a good set of maternity pants.

It's also a wonderful suggestion to buy a quality pair of back trousers, specifically if you are working throughout your maternity. A top quality outfit will see you via any type of unique events, like wedding celebrations or Christmas parties. If you keep the dress relatively plain, you can actually alter it up with different devices and footwear Buy your size.

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Maternity Clothes for Dummies

Do refrain from doing this. You'll end up with clothes that will drop and not flatter you or your bump in all. Get maternal garments in your regular dimension for the ideal fit Counterfeit it 'til you make it. If you go shopping in the early phases of your maternity before you have actually 'popped', you might not be acquiring clothes that'll fit you in the later stages of maternity.

In this way, you can really see exactly how the clothes will fit you by the last trimester Look for all seasons. Given you're expecting for nine months you're likely to go through a few seasons and also large weather modifications during your pregnancy. Guarantee you have enough clothing to adequately maintain you and also your bump warm during the colder months and sufficient summertime garments to quit you from sweating it out.

It may really feel strange purchasing summer season garments at the start of winter months, however planning your maternal wardrobe ahead of time can be a good time and also money saver Keep cool. You're less likely to really feel the cold when you're expectant as a result of all the added blood being pumped around your body.

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seigyokus · 7 years

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1.2 - New Manager

Idolish Seven - Part 3, Chapter 1.2 For more Part 3 translations, click here!

Translation below the cut!

Takanashi Otoharu: IDOLiSH7! Good job preparing for your first anniversary tour! The tickets have been completely sold out! Nanase Riku: Yay! Thank you very much! Rokuya Nagi: Congratulations! Everybody loves us, as well as Haruki's songs! Izumi Iori: As the center, Nanase-san’s singing has stabilized as well. Ogami Banri: The shows you guys star on also get really great ratings! I do hope that "A Lovely Night with IDOLiSH7!" will surpass the numbers for TRIGGER's show sometime this year. Izumi Mitsuki: At least once would be nice! Nikaidou Yamato: Mitsu's an expert at MC-ing now, so it's definitely possible! Takanashi Tsumugi: There's an important announcement I'd like to make before the first anniversary tour. President, if you will. Izumi Mitsuki: From the President!? It's that important!? Takanashi Otoharu: First, allow me to apologize. I am truly sorry if I have inconvenienced any of you by keeping our agency's numbers so small. Takanashi Otoharu: Many of the boys here have very particular circumstances, so we have carefully screened everyone. We’ve selected those whom we trust to work with. Takanashi Otoharu: They've all finished their training, so nine new staff members will be a part of the company starting tomorrow. Takanashi Otoharu: We will have five people for office work and two people on business and sales. There will also be two more people assisting the manager. Once they're used to the job, we intend on having them accompany you boys on scene as well. Nanase Riku: You mean we're getting a new manager? But what about our current one.... Takanashi Tsumugi: I'll still be everyone's manager! I'll just be getting some support, that's all. Takanashi Tsumugi: However, for the time being I will most likely be in the office more in order to train the new hires. That being said.... Takanashi Tsumugi: I will field IDOLiSH7's work, but there will also be a new manager primarily focused on supporting MEZZO". Yotsuba Tamaki・Osaka Sougo: Huh...? Izumi Mitsuki: Isn't that great! Both of you guys are really busy, and wasn't it rough for Sougo? Osaka Sougo: Indeed....... Izumi Iori: Getting Yotsuba-san from school to other places will also be much easier. That's good. Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah....... Nikaidou Yamato: What, aren't you two happy? Osaka Sougo: I am happy, but just when I've finally figured out how to maintain an appropriate distance from Tamaki-kun.... (1) Yotsuba Tamaki: ...If it ends up being some weirdo, I feel like everything’s gonna get messed up all over again....... Yotsuba Tamaki・Osaka Sougo: A new manager, huh....... Takanashi Otoharu: Oh? You guys don't want one? Ogami Banri: Ahaha. It'll be hard for the new manager to come out if you guys react like that. Osaka Sougo: Ah-- Are they already here? Yotsuba Tamaki: What are they like? Ogami Banri: It's me. Yotsuba Tamaki・Osaka Sougo: Thank god......! Izumi Mitsuki: It's Banri-san!? Ogami Banri: I will also be following you guys on-scene. Yuki and the others have seen my face now, so there's no reason for me to hide anymore. Rokuya Nagi: OH! I feel very at ease with Banri as our manager. He always plays anime songs in the car for me. Nikaidou Yamato: He's dropped me off and picked me up a couple times before, and Banri-san's a really good driver. He also knows a ton of good places to eat! Takanashi Tsumugi: That's true! I'll go research restaurants so I can recommend good places to everyone as well, just like Banri-san! Yotsuba Tamaki: But you know tons of good cake shops, Manager! I like you more, Manager! Ogami Banri: Is that so.... Even though I put King Pudding plushes in the company car so Tamaki-kun would be happy...? Yotsuba Tamaki: Ah-- No, no! It's not that I don't like Ban-chan! Izumi Iori: What are these factions.... Nanase Riku: Isn't it kinda like that! The thing that what happened back when switched centers! Izumi Iori: That....... Danger has passed, true, but I cannot believe you're talking about it so gleefully. (2) Nanase Riku: It's because we're even better friends than before! There's a lot I gotta thank you for, Iori! Izumi Iori: Tha-- That's....... Well, I guess so....... Izumi Mitsuki: You didn't have to get that flustered. Ogami Banri: We get along too. Right, Tsumugi-san? Takanashi Tsumugi: O-of course! We'll do our best to get along! Takanashi Otoharu: The reason why our agency was able to grow so much is because of you boys. I am truly grateful. Takanashi Otoharu: Black or White is at the end of the year. Last year, you won against TRIGGER. This year, you'll be fighting new challengers as the previous winners. Takanashi Otoharu: Nevertheless, don't push yourselves too hard. Just be your carefree selves and do your best. IDOLiSH7: Yes, sir!

Anesagi Kaoru: What an amazing number of people. I expected nothing less from Akebono TV's 50th anniversary party-- everyone here is famous. (3) Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Man, I get really nervous in places like this....... Kujou Ten: Ryuu, don't drink tonight. Yaotome Gaku: Re:vale and IDOLiSH7 were invited as guests too, right? Just where are they? Anesagi Kaoru: Gaku! A message from the President: Anesagi Kaoru: "Don't be swayed by what the masses are saying. Refrain from being overly friendly with idols from other agencies." Yaotome Gaku: ...What an earful....... Anesagi Kaoru: This year, the goal is for TRIGGER to overwhelmingly surpass IDOLiSH7 and win against Re:vale at Black or White. Anesagi Kaoru: You are the only group who can take them down! Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I see.... We're singing to be Grand Winners this year, huh. Yaotome Gaku: We gotta get nominated into the Grand Winner division first before we can face off against Re:vale, though. Kujou Ten: Other than Re:vale, Hanamaki Sumire will also be a formidable enemy. That hit female singer who guested on our show. Kujou Ten: We'll give it our best shot, no matter who we're up against-- we're going to surpass Re:vale, and stand at the top. Izumi Mitsuki: --I told you, stop flirting already! Rokuya Nagi: No! How cruel, Mitsuki! Yaotome Gaku: It's IDOLiSH7. Ahaha. Noisy as usual, I see. Hey, over here! Anesagi Kaoru: You. Did you even listen to a word I said!? Nanase Riku: Ah! Ten-ni-- Kujou Ten: It's good seeing you again, Nanase-san. Nanase Riku: Ah.... Kujou-san, it's nice to see you again too! Have you tried the cake over there? Te-- Kujou-san, I thought you'd like it so I brought some over! Kujou Ten: Oh? Really? Anesagi Kaoru: Hey! Don't act like you're at home! Osaka Sougo: Everyone look so cool. May I take a picture with you all afterwards? Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: We can take one right now! Three, two, one.... Anesagi Kaoru: Now, now. Stop making peace signs!! [CG] Momo: Kaoru-chan, what's wrong? You're all grumpy even though we're at an anniversary party! Yuki: Rejected by an Akebono TV employee, perhaps? Anesagi Kaoru: ...The most excessively friendly pair are here now....... Momo: Ah! Mitsuki! Ryuunosuke! Yay! Izumi Mitsuki: Yay! Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Yay! Momo・Tsunashi Ryuunosuke・Izumi Mitsuki: Yay! Yay yay! Anesagi Kaoru: Ah, this is no good! No good at all! This is the epitome of being too friendly with each other!! (4) Nanase Riku: Wow, they get along really well! I wonder what happened? Izumi Mitsuki: Momo-san added us to his celebrity sports team, and we made a male idol team from there! We call over our friends and play sports together! Momo: Let's go to Ryuu-chan's place and go kayak fishing! Akajin, akajin! Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Akajin, aka-- ouch! Anesagi Kaoru: You are being way too intimate with them! Just as intimate as my high-class foundation is with my skin! What in the world is an akajin! Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Akajin. It's a fish about this big, and it's really good. It's good simmered with vegetables, but I like it served as sashimi. Anesagi Kaoru: I didn't ask! Yuki: Haha.... Sports club, huh. Momo's always full of energy, from sun up 'til sun down. It must be troublesome. Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Not at all! When he's with us, he's really mature, and also cool and collected. If anything, we're the ones who are talkative. Yuki: What...? Izumi Iori: Nii-san's very put together, so I'm sure he's a very dependable person even within the sports club. Correct? Momo: Not quite! He lets other people spoil him, and feels like a really friendly kouhai! Everyone gives him lots of love! Izumi Iori: What...? Yaotome Gaku: Well, Ryuu's a really chill guy. Don't push him too hard, 'kay? Izumi Mitsuki: Not at all! He gets really fired up and greedy when it comes to sports, and he also hates losing a lot! That's the Beast, alright! Yaotome Gaku: What...? Momo・Tsunashi Ryuunosuke・Izumi Mitsuki: Yay! Yay yay! Yaotome Gaku: Why do I feel so isolated....... Izumi Iori: I feel a little lonely....... Yuki: You guys are fine....... I'm the only one left behind, in my case. (5) Anesagi Kaoru: See, look! Getting too friendly is a bad thing! It's like a prelude to disbanding!

Okazaki Rinto: Good evening. Congratulations on tonight. Anesagi Kaoru: Wait a second. You! Where were you! Okazaki Rinto: Takanashi-san and I just watched since we didn't want to interrupt such a smooth conversation. Takanashi Tsumugi: You get along so well with everyone. I'm jealous, Anesagi-san! Okazaki Rinto: I ought to learn from you as well! Anesagi Kaoru: ....... Not at all.... Yaotome Gaku: Huh? Where's Nikaidou? Nanase Riku: Yamato-san? He was just here a second ago.... Izumi Iori: ...It's because we're in a place like this. Remember...? Osaka Sougo: ...Ah, right....... Rokuya Nagi: Hm..... Yamato sure likes to move around in secret. Izumi Mitsuki: Come on, don't say that. He'll come back once he's done with whatever he's doing. Rokuya Nagi: You're a very good, honest, and virtuous person, Mitsuki. Those who carry secrets with them aren't of such noble character. They're the same as the timid and cowardly.... Nikaidou Yamato: Who's a coward? Rokuya Nagi: OH....... Nikaidou Yamato: I'm glad your plane made it on time, Nagi. You just got back from Northmare, right? Nikaidou Yamato: You've been going back to your country quite a lot lately. I wonder what's happening over there.... Is it like a disturbance, or uproar over something? ......Is that the reason why you've been going back? Rokuya Nagi: ......Secrets are but a part of a gentleman's manners. Nikaidou Yamato: OK. Hey, long time no see. What were you guys talking about? Yuki: They were just discussing how excited they are to watch us act together. Yaotome Gaku: ......We were? Kujou Ten: ......Didn't we? Nanase Riku: I love your "Mission" series a lot too, Yuki-san! Nanase Riku: I can't wait to watch the new movie! Yuki: Thank you. Yaotome Gaku: What's your role this time, Nikaidou? Nikaidou Yamato: An elite, corpse-collecting doctor. Yaotome Gaku: Huh. You sure get a lot of villain roles. Maybe it's because you look the part. Nikaidou Yamato: I don't wanna hear that from you. Ah....... Man in a Suit: Wow, everyone is matching. Congratulations on tonight. Well, do you mind chatting with me for a bit, Nikaidou-kun.......

To be continued....

TL Notes/comments:

(1) 距離感 is a weirdass phrase, kind of hard to express in english. Went pretty direct here (lit. sense of distance). In this case, remember that MEZZO" had a lot of trouble getting on the same page and got to a good truce only recently.

(2) Iori says part of an idiom: 喉元過ぎれば熱さを忘れる (Danger past, God forgotten).

(3) Akebono means dawn/daybreak, and lowkey I feel like this is a TV Asahi spinoff LOL... asahi means morning sun SO....

(4) is2g there was an idiom for people being overly friendly with each other in english but it flew outta my head but

(5) “I'm the (pin) that was left behind.” uH? idk if he means like 'pin' the noun (ex. hairpin) since that was written in katakana....? apparently it can also mean 'one' (as in 'one' on dice, cards. thanks jisho bro :^)) so tl;dr i kind of? ignored it. lmk if there's any alternative meaning to..,.................. pin....... also LMAO the bg chatter is in english

Thank you as always @kuriiii for proofreading and catcHING MY 999 DUMB TYPOS

As usual, if you see any mistakes/mistranslations/etc, please message me!

Thank you for reading!!

#idolish7 #アイドリッシュセブン #story3:text #story3:tl #translation

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neverisalongtime-ja-blog · 7 years

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Chapter 27: Landslide

Thanks to everyone who reads the fic, much love to you all! ♥

Remember to visit Anastasia’s IG profile:

Anastasia_Truman ❤️️

Read chapter 26

“That was an extremely awkward conversation”, Anastasia thought. She would have liked to avoid Josh but she found him suddenly walking through the Staples Center and she couldn’t hide from him. She was polite and he was nice and that was weird. They didn’t speak to each other the rest of the dates in Los Angeles, now it was Friday, March 10th and it was time for the last show at Staples. Even though Anastasia didn’t get to see Josh again the conversation they had that Wednesday rumbled in her head.

- I forgot to tell you but I had the strangest encounter with Josh the other day – Anastasia told Mandy in her dressing room.

- How in the world do you forget to tell me that? What did he say? – Mandy wanted to know.

- He was nice, he liked my tattoos.

- He’s still a douche. Don’t forget that – Mandy said – Is everything ready for the party?

- Of course! Barbara handled everything like the boss she is. Once the Chilis end their set, we are out to party!

Anastasia thought that it was a good idea to host a party for everyone in the tour to celebrate the LA dates and as a way to thank the band for letting them back. Yes, it was kind of a suck up move but they really had a lot of love for everyone involved in the tour and Anastasia wanted to have a moment of joy with her friends before starting traveling again.

The last show at the Staples was incredible. Anastasia wore a pair of sequin hot pants with a Rolling Stone t-shirt and a pair of thigh-high black boots. Dead Curse played a lot of old songs and the entire venue sang along to them, the energy was incredible and the band had never been so happy. She saw the smiles in Nick’s, Eric’s and Mandy’s faces and knew that it was a great place and moment to be at. As usual they watched the Chili Peppers set afterwards but this time they enjoyed it with family and friends so the vibe was a lot better. Mark and his friend Andrew were going crazy singing to every song they performed that night, they did the same in New York but this time Anastasia was feeling a little bit better so she decided to join them in jumping and singing at the side of the stage until it was time for Josh’s solo. He had a tradition of singing small parts of some covers while the band took a break and came back to stage to finish the show.

Anastasia saw him grabbing the blue D’Angelo guitar she gave him for his birthday last year and she felt a knot in her stomach. “This isn’t good”, she thought and then she heard the first notes of a song she knew very well: Landslide by Fleetwood Mac.

- How dare he?! – She told Mark.

I took my love, I took it down

Climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills

'Til the landslide brought it down.

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

Josh was singing better than ever before. Anastasia could tell he had rehearsed the song before the show. She listened to him and got lost in the melody but far from making her happy, it made her very angry. She couldn’t believe Josh was ruining Fleetwood for her. “Why would he do this? And with that guitar, precisely?” It was obviously about her, but she didn’t want to admit that to herself. After Josh finished his number she walked backstage to her dressing room and just laid there, waiting for the show to finish and leave for the party so she could focus her thoughts on something more than Josh.

Barbara set everything up in a cool place in Hollywood and Mark was going to be in charge of the music. Everybody was there, friends, family, coworkers, all enjoining and drinking on a relaxed Friday night. Mandy, Anastasia and Kelly were going crazy dancing and laughing and for a short while An even forgot Josh was there. She avoided him all night, talking to her family, having a drink with some friends from high school, joking with Clara, Flea’s daughter, laughing with Chad and his wife, playing nineties songs with Mark and Andrew, trying to keep her mind busy and praying to not run into him.

While Anastasia was having an entertaining conversation with Barbara, Anthony, Chad and his wife, Flea, Clara, Mandy and some of her high school friends about how much of a pain in the neck she was in her teenage year, a Security guy called her to a side to tell her that there was a situation at the door. Apparently someone was trying to get in uninvited. She joined the guy to the door without a clue on who it could be, but the Universe likes a laugh and when she saw the person in question she knew this must be the biggest joke of all.

- What are you doing here? – She asked Valentine who was at the door looking like a deer in headlights. He was wearing a navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of dark jeans and brown shoes, he looked so stylish. His beard was gone, his hair was still long and he looked like the Valentine Anastasia fell in love with. – This is a private party – She grabbed him by an arm and pulled him away from the door a little bit.

- I just wanted to see you. I was at the show but couldn’t get backstage to congratulate you – Valentine said with the most stupid smile on his face.

- Wow, that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard – Anastasia said sarcastically.

- You look beautiful – He said.

- And that’s even sadder – Anastasia was losing her patience. She didn’t want Valentine there; she didn’t want to see him ever again. She was having so much fun and there he was ruining everything again, but the Universe’s joke was just starting – I thought I’d been clear the last time, I don’t want to see you again in my life!

- Is everything alright? – She heard a voice in the back, she turned and she couldn’t believe it.

- Yes, Josh, don’t worry – She said without looking at him.

- So this is the Josh – Valentine said laughing and Anastasia could smell the alcohol in his breath – Nice to meet you – Josh didn’t answer.

- Valentine was just leaving – Anastasia said looking at Josh. The light outside wasn’t bright but she could see the anger on Josh’s face and that made her very nervous.

- Me? I ain’t going nowhere, I’m here to see you – Valentine said.

- I think it’s better you leave, man – Josh talked and that increased Anastasia’s nervousness.

- You don’t get to decide that! – Valentine told Josh with a violent attitude.

- Relax, there’s no need to get rude – Anastasia said trying to calm him down. She had seen Valentine angry before and it wasn’t pleasant at all. She felt a hand on her waist and turned to see Josh trying to get her away from Valentine.

- Oh, I see – Valentine said looking at the scene – Did you already tell your boyfriend right here – She never told him about their break up – That I took you to eat at your favorite sushi restaurant at Venice, which I’m sure he has no clue what it is? Did you tell him that we kissed and you told me how much you had been missing me? – Valentine started to lie and that ignited the fury in Anastasia.

- What the fuck, Valentine?! – She didn’t care what Josh was thinking but Valentine didn’t have the right to say such lies and he started to walk towards her.

- Tell him how much you love me! – Valentine screamed and that was trying to grab her by an arm.

- Don’t you even dare to touch her! – Josh screamed while putting himself in front of Anastasia.

She saw Josh stopping Valentine’s arm by moving his own arms, then Valentine positioned to punch Josh but in a fast move she saw Josh giving Valentine a hard hit on his face and that petrified her. The guy had to hold onto the wall to not fall on his ass but when she saw him recovering strength to go after Josh it was time for her to take action.

- Stop! This is absurd! – She said hugging Josh and separating him from Valentine. Her mind just automatically chose Josh to hug – Valentine, just leave, goddamn it! The next time I have to tell you to leave me alone I will do it with the police by my side.

She saw the fury in Valentine’s eyes as he checked his mouth and noticed he was bleeding from it. He didn’t say a thing but looked at Josh with rage before walking the opposite way.

- What was that? – Anastasia asked Josh while still outside, in the street.

- You’re asking me?! – Josh said confused as he looked at his hand, he was bleeding too.

Anastasia grabbed him and they walked to the parking lot. She always carried a first aid kit in her car, thankfully the wound wasn’t deep and she just cleaned and put a couple of band aids over his knuckles. Then they looked at each other at the same time.

- Valentine was lying – Anastasia said to him.

- I know – Josh said with a serious face.

- I never kissed him nor told him that I missed him, that was fucking nuts – She said.

- Don’t worry, you don’t have to give me any explanations – Josh said and started walking back to the club. Anastasia knew she didn’t have to give him any explanations of what happened with Valentine but she just did it, she felt her mind was forcing her to do it – But you did go eat with him? – Josh suddenly stopped walking and turned around to look at her again.

- Yes, I did – Anastasia answered walking towards him, again she felt she was being forced.

- Why? – Josh asked.

- I’m not sure. I guess I wanted to close the Valentine circle.

- I thought that circle was closed when we started dating.

- It wasn’t, Josh – She said walking again.

- Did you succeed? – He asked her walking next to her.

- Yes.

- And what about our circle? – He asked again. She stopped and looked at him.

- I think you know the answer to that – Josh looked to the floor and she could swear she saw a small smile on his face. Before entering the club again she looked at him and said, – By the way, thanks for Landslide – And then his smile was real.

Next morning when Anastasia told Mandy what happened outside the party, the pink haired girl couldn´t believe it.

- You are joking, right? – Mandy asked confused with a smile on her face.

- I wish I were – Anastasia said containing the laughter seeing her friend’s face – Josh was like this super hot, badass human being and punched Val in the face – She made a mimic of the moment – Split his lips and all!

- And then he smiled when you thanked him for Landslide?

- Yes!

- So he sang it for you?

- He used the guitar I gave him, the one “he’s always going to see and think of me because it reminds him of the color of my hair” – Anastasia did the quotation marks with her fingers.

- What do you think that means? This is so fucked up in so many levels.

- I don’t know, but I won’t let him play with my head.

- Pff… Not even you believe that – Mandy said rolling her eyes slightly.

- No! For real! I don’t want to allow it. He made a choice and needs to stick with it.

- You will fall again, my friend. Mark my words!

- I don’t think my mind is ready to be involved with him again – Anastasia looked at the floor – But… sleeping with him again is a serious present possibility. I’m weak for him, I can’t deny that.

- You are weak in general. That guy cheated on you with this stupid girl and yet you are here talking about sleeping with him again.

- Yeah, but he never stopped loving me, Mandy, we read the conversation he had with Eric. He was just confused because he has self-esteem issues.

- Yes, and because you are too much for him.

- I don’t think so. I think he has to deal with it but it wasn’t like he said bad things to me, like Valentine who used to say I’d be worthless without him. Anyway, I don’t think that the Josh/Lauren thing is that serious.

- Believe me when I say that no one sees a future in that.

- At the same time I don’t want to keep that thought on my mind, instead I like to think he is in a great relationship so I can build up this wall and keep myself far away from him.

- What? I know you and you are fucking weak.

- You are such a supportive friend – Anastasia said sarcastically.

- Always – Mandy said giving Anastasia a kiss in the cheek and both friends laughed.

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gldngrl7 · 8 years

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Karamel Fic: Ruination (2/6)

Title: Ruination

Author: gldngrl7

Started: January 5, 2017

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 6

Author’s Notes:

In celebration of Supergirl’s return to the airwaves tonight, I’m going to post two chapters. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 is Explicit in rating.

Thanks to the following for your comments and flailing. You guys are awesome: @pwettypwita, @lostin-the-desert

To all others: thanks for reading/liking

Constructive criticisms and feedback/comments/flailing are mightily appreciated. Flames are destroyed by my freeze breath.

Chapter 2/6

I didn't know that I was starving 'til I tasted you

Don't need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo

By the way, right away you do things to my body

I didn't know that I was starving 'til I tasted you

--Hailee Steinfeld/Gray – “Starving”

His whole life, once he got out of the throwing dirt clods stage, he’s pretty much been a stickler about grooming. A neat and tidy appearance does attract the partners, after all, and for a man dedicated to the giving and receiving of pleasure, attraction is key. It’s been a daily struggle here though, since it takes Kara’s heat vision to provide him with a haircut and the clothes he wears do not have the clean lines and complimentary silhouette to which he’s accustomed. So he settles for staying clean, his hair neatly combed and dirt scraped from beneath his fingernails.

But this time, stepping into the shower in the men’s locker room, is like sticking his hand into the mouth of a rabid Glarbeast. Mon-El can still smell her on him – her desire, her sweat, her own unique scent, and he’d rather cut off his own arm than wash that away. But he has little choice. He has somewhere he needs to be in an hour and, according to J’onn, he should attempt to look his best.

“If you were any quieter I’d think you were the one that was dead,” the achingly familiar voice says

“You do enough talking for the both of us, Ral,” Mon-El retorts.

Morgon-Ral had died long ago in the fall of Daxam, his body given back to the Gods of Val-Or while Mon-El drifted, asleep, through the Well of Stars, slowly finding his way to Earth. Though it had been three decades since last he saw his friend, to Mon-El it felt like mere weeks. They had been companions, brothers in bond, since childhood. No one knew him like Ral, and no one knew Ral like he did.

He couldn’t talk to anyone on this planet about Kara, about his growing feelings for her, not unless he wished to alienate every last one of them. So, his still-grieving mind created the construct of Ral, not unlike the hologram of her mother to whom Kara regularly speaks.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Ral asks, a slow smile spreading across his cherubic face like spilled honey. “About it being different.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mon-El denied.

“Then why didn’t you leave?” Ral points out. “She fell asleep hours before; you could have left at any time. You always leave…as soon as you’ve exhausted them. You were the master of sneaking away unnoticed. But this time…” Ral chuckles, “this time you left a tribute. And that is not like you.”

“Fine! It was different, okay?”

“Why do you have to make this so hard?” Ral wonders. “The only person you’re hurting is yourself. It’s not like I care about being right. Not anymore at least.”

“What if--?”

“She asked you to stay, didn’t she?” Ral challenges.

“She never said she wanted more,” Mon-El argues. “Besides, she was emotional afterwards, not thinking clearly. Maybe she just wanted to be held. Women can be like that sometimes.”

“Sometimes women can also have emotions and make clear choices about what they want at the same time. In fact, sometimes that’s when they make the best choices. Emotional or not, it looked to me like she knew exactly what she wanted, my friend. So, congratulations on a plan well executed. Well played on the sad-little-boy gambit, by the way. ‘I’m all alone in the world. Hold me’. Masterful,” Ral crows, his voice laced with admiration.

“That wasn’t a gambit, Ral!” Mon-El protests.

“I know,” Ral replies, suddenly solemn. “I was just busting you, that’s all. You’re so serious all the time now; I hardly recognize you.”

“You try losing your entire world and everyone you ever loved!” Mon-El shouts, his voice echoing off the tile and concrete walls. Of its own accord, his hand forms into a fist and the next thing he knows a section of white tile from the shower is shattering around it, ceramic shards raining down on his feet. Shocked by his outburst, Mon-El stares at his clenched fist and the hole in the shower wall, his racing breath struggling to normalize. “See how jovial you feel.”

“I think I know what’s going on here.”

“Oh, I just can’t wait to hear this,” Mon-El says, the weight of heavy sarcasm in his voice. Reluctantly, he lathers his hands with the bar of utilitarian, multi-purpose soap and begins to meticulously eradicate the memory of last night from his skin.

“You’re having trouble accepting that she might want you; this breathtaking woman who is, let’s face it, so out of your league she’s playing a different sport. But that’s not what’s giving you trouble. I mean, you’re accustomed to that; bedding women based on nothing more than the strength of your charm and that ridiculous smile, or—and it pains me to bring this up—your ranking at court. More than a few ladies tried to position themselves closer to the crown.

“Ral,” Mon-El grinds out. It’s a warning for Ral to school his words; the action a ghost from better times.

“I’ve never given you anything but the truth, brother, no matter how much it cost me, and I’m not going to stop now just because I’m dead. Besides, I’m not saying anything that you don’t already know on some level.”

Mon-El swipes his sudsy hands through his wet hair and lathers the foam cleanser through it, hoping the action will drown out the sound of Ral’s slightly imperious voice.

“You can’t accept that she might want you even though you have so little to offer; no currency, no bloodline, no titles, no position at court.”

“I got it!”

“You’re just a simple man now, with naught but his heart to give.” Ral throws a courtly gesture, covering his heart with his hand in an overly romantic way, before the smile evaporates from his face. “But worst of all, you’ve got it stuck in your head that you don’t deserve her because of what happened on Daxam. Don’t look now, but I think someone’s letting emotion cloud his judgment.”

“Are you done?” Mon-El snaps.

“Do you really want me go?”

“No,” Mon-El replies after a moment of silence, his shoulders slumping. “What am I supposed to do, Ral?”

“You have to find a way to get past this. Find your path. Assimilate. Your old life is gone, brother, and it’s never coming back. The days of free-flowing Zakarian ale at the endless banquet feast are over and it’s imperative that you accept that. You must make this place your home if you want to prove to her that you can be what she needs.“

“So I’m just supposed to forget?” Mon-El’s heart constricts at the thought of letting go of even the smallest part of the things he loved.

“Nobody’s saying that,” Ral shakes his head. “Beyulat Daxam, brother. But you’re re-reading the same chapter over and over, when there’s so much more left to your story. Turn the page – that’s all I’m saying. Turn just one page and then maybe the next one will be easier, and then the next and the next.”

Mon-El stands under the stream of hot water, steam surrounding him and filling his lungs as he considers Ral’s advice. He’s stumbled around this planet since he got here, only attempting to belong when it suited him, afraid to let go of the life he lead before as if it might somehow come back to him, catching him unawares.

Somewhere inside, he knows that’s not the kind of man Kara needs; a beggarly refugee, half in this world and half out. She needs someone to stand by her side and to be there for her. And how can he do that, if he’s barely here himself?

“I can’t lose her,” he mumbles, more to himself than to his companion.

“Then listen to your far superior friend,” Ral butts in, “and stop trying to kill this thing before it’s really started because of some misguided notion that you don’t deserve to be alive. The gods have a plan for you.”

“The gods!” Mon-El scoffs.

“Laugh all you want, but I’ve seen the signs—which means you’ve seen them too.”

“Signs?”

“Don’t play dumb. Has it occurred to you that if you and Kara had met before the destruction of Krypton she would have still been a child? Then while she was on Earth growing into a fine young woman—and I do mean fine—you were drifting through the Well of Stars in stasis. It’s like the gods were just waiting for the right moment. When you entered Earth’s atmosphere you could have landed anywhere on this planet, another country even. But did you? No…you landed right here in National City, home of one Kara Danvers, the angel that opened your pod.”

“That doesn’t mean the gods of Val-Or exist.”

“Some things never change,” Ral chuckles. “Even dead, I do love having this argument with you. You’re going to believe in something one day. Even if it’s not the gods of Val-Or.”

“I believe in Kara,” Mon-El professes.

“That’s a good start,” Ral nods.

Mon-El swallows thickly, recalling the power born inside of him during their lovemaking the night before, and wishing he could still be cradled between her thighs now. Standing under the shower of never ending hot water, he leans forward and places he forehead against the cooler tile, considering everything he’d learned last night, both about himself and about her as well.

“Are you going to tell her?” Ral asks, soberly.

Requiring no clarification because it had just been hovering on the outskirts of his conscious thought. It is knowledge he’s been struggling with since holding her in his arms, basking in their afterglow. Mon-El replies, “No.”

“Is that the wisest choice?”

“Don’t you think it will seem a little self-serving?” Mon-El wonders, trapped between what he wants and what he knows is right.

“Someone could get hurt and if that happens you will lose her trust forever.”

“I would never let it come to that.”

“It starts here,” Ral insists, his voice rough and regal in Mon-El’s ears. “Being the kind of man she needs means making the right choices, even when they’re hard. Even when it means things don’t always fall in your favor. Isn’t that what you wanted my help with in the first place?”

“I just don’t know—“

“She will never be able to take her pleasure with a human man. Not unless she wishes to make him a eunuch. She needs to know that.”

“I know,” Mon-El snaps, his entire body turning rigid, jaw clenching. He runs a hand through his wet hair, turns around and slumps against the tile, his back to wall. “I know. I just…I just want her to choose me,” Mon-El confesses. “Not because I’m her only viable option.”

“Did something special happen between you last night?” Ral asks, on the razor’s edge of prosecutorial. “When you held her in your arms, gave her pleasure and took your own, did something happen inside of you? Did it open your eyes, brother? Show you the art in a light you’ve never seen before?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust that. Always choose what is best for her, and not yourself. Do that…and I promise she will never see you for anything but the man she needs.”

“I want that,” Mon-El nods. “For her to always look at me the way she did when I was inside her.”

“And you can have it. But not if you run from her now.” A slow shift takes place then, the stern intensity in Ral’s his eyes shifts to a sparkle and a wide lascivious grin spreads across his cherubic face, and he chuckles deep in his chest. “Besides…how can you leave her now, when there’s so much left to teach her?”

“She learns quickly,” Mon-El agrees, his melancholic fog lifting slightly.

“Such a sweet, natural submissive you’ve found. It was magnificent how she surrendered to you. What could possibly be more intoxicating than a woman who can throw you against a wall with one hand, yet will spread her legs for you without question? What I wouldn’t give to hear wicked words of pleasure spill from her mouth. ‘Fuck’,” Ral says, testing the word, hitting the ‘k’ hard. “It’s such a divine word for the art, so primitive and guttural. Altogether satisfying, don’t you think? Won’t it sound lovely coming from her ripe mouth?”

Mon-El groans as Ral rambles words that burn fire in his loins. He vividly remembers Kara’s willingness to comply with his desires, even the ones he hadn’t specifically requested. He recalls the way she innocently took him in her mouth, listening intently to his instructions as he tutored her between harsh breaths, his hand sifting through her hair, her head bobbing up and down over his desperate cock. Mon-El remembers her guileless smile of conquest when she accepted all of him and swallowed every last drop.

“Brother, if you don’t train your Kryptonian goddess you’ll never forgive yourself. Val-Or! I’ll never forgive you!”

“She is everything I ever wanted, but didn’t believe could exist in one person.”

“No wonder you’d take more than one partner to bed so often,” Ral waggled his eyebrows.

“I gave up on finding satisfaction in one person.”

“But not anymore, it seems. I see your goddess is in your thoughts even now.” Ral indicates Mon-El’s cock, now standing at rapt attention. “You should take care of that, there’s not much time before you have to dress and leave. As you no longer have need of me, I’ll just—“

Ral withdrew, leaving Mon-El in the shower with a rigid cock and masturbation his only outlet. To most Daxamites, including Mon-El, it was a repugnant task after reaching adulthood, considered selfish in a culture that revered the exchange of pleasure between two or more parties. But he is no longer on Daxam, and the only partner with whom he wishes to exchange pleasure is Kara Zor-El, who is unfortunately not present to tend to his problem.

Soaping up his hand to provide slick lubrication, he begins by caressing his stiff member, imagining Kara’s delicate fingers running along the thick, sensitive vein on the underside and then passing her thumb over the weeping, bulbous head. He leans his head against the tile wall and allows the steam to envelop him, drawing him into his fantasy.

He imagines her kneeling before him and wrapping her lips around his length, before sucking him in all the way to the back of her throat. Circling his forefinger to his thumb at the base, he pictures Kara’s lips riding up and down the shaft as he ruts mildly into her mouth. Mon-El bites his bottom lip to suppress the groan rising to his throat.

In his fantasy, he fists his hand in her hair and urges her to her feet. After a languid heated kiss he turns her around to face the wall, pressing her shoulders until she’s bent over before him. Taking his cock in his hand completely, Mon-El imagines plunging into her with little preamble, pleased to find her clutch wet and ready. He can hear her cries of pleasure in his ears, distant memories borrowed from the night before and growing fainter with each use.

He speeds his hand, gripping and sliding his fist along the steel of his cock, trying to find the best rhythm. The right rhythm, which will make him forget that he isn’t buried in her perfectly greedy core. The fantasy fades like the steam as the water grows colder. He jerks and pulls at his cock in a mad attempt to replicate her perfection, but can find only a poor substitute of sensation.

The pressure in his balls grows until all he can do is drive toward his hollow climax, his chest aching to be inside of her once more. When he comes, it’s with a lackluster precision and a dismal groan; a clinical act devoid of the newly uncovered emotions or the sense of fulfillment he experienced with her last night. His seed spills to the tiled floor and—wasted—spins down the drain.

He should feel better, more relaxed, but his desire for her seems to be about as impenetrable as his skin and the release has barely dented the surface, because the desire itself has so little do with the physical. Shutting off the shower spigot, Mon-El is enveloped in the chilly air of the gym locker room, its concrete walls providing poor insulation to keep in the heat. He reaches for a white towel and wraps it securely around his waist, knowing one thing for certain as he steps out of the shower.

That Kara Zor-El has ruined him.

****

She could shower at speed if she wanted to—if she had to—but this morning, that is not the case. Showers are her sanctuary; a place where no demands are placed upon her and few expectations need to be met beyond the cleansing of her body and the rejuvenation of her mind. Here she can take the time to think.

After washing her hair, she works the conditioner meticulously through the long, thick tresses and then leaves it to sit. While the conditioner works its magic, she pours violet scented shower gel onto her fluffy red body sponge and squeezes it until the suds are worked into a fine lather. Every inch of her skin is sensitized unlike ever before as she moves the lathered sponge over her arms, around her neck, and down her belly.

It’s as if Mon-El has turned her on in more ways the one. Completely unaware, Kara Danvers had been walking through life wrapped in cotton batting that had nothing do with the radiation from the yellow sun. Suddenly, she’s aware of the spot at the back of her neck that sends a shudder through her when caressed, or the sliver of skin between her belly button and her thatch that has her breath hitching in her throat when she swipes it with the sponge.

Alex had been right. Mon-El had opened a new world to her last night, and she had been ill-prepared for its after effects. She can’t imagine that any virgin, for good or for bad, could ever be properly prepared for the feelings that follow the loss of their innocence.

She understands that, for many, the loss of virginity is an event they’d rather not dwell upon, but for Kara that is not the case. Her mind floods with images and sounds burned indelibly in her mind. She can’t help but cup her own breasts when she recalls the way he’d fondled them, teasing the nipples until they feel a semblance of the frenzy of need he had built within her.

Before losing her virginity Kara’s body would regularly reach a state of tension that begged for the kind of release that comes with masturbation. But had she never felt like she had been dipped in kerosene and set aflame like she did at this moment – like she had last night. She had never felt like a cuckoo clock wound so tight the springs and cogs threaten to fragment.

He had brought her to the peak four times last night, first stoking her desire and then ardently coaxing forth each climax. By rights she should feel the relaxed tranquility of post-coital bliss so often talked about in books and shown on television. Instead, however, her tension is cranked higher than ever before and she needs release once more. Mon-El had opened floodgates within her, a store of sexual energy, which she hadn’t known lay buried within.

Her soapy hands travel over the canvas of her skin, pretending that he’s there with her, worshiping her body while whispering soft words about her beauty and perfection. Words he gave her last night. Her core throbs with want, starving for him and begging to devour the silk and steel of his cock.

Kara slips her fingers into her wet folds, finding her clit with practiced ease and pressing against it until a shot of white-hot electricity flashes out from her core, spreading to all of her limbs. It steals her breath, but the forgotten shock of it has her crying out his name.

Kara places one hand the shower tiles for support as the press-and-circle of her finger around the bundle of hypersensitive nerves weakens her at the knees. “Oh, God!” she hisses, her throat swallowing air as if it’s abruptly become a rare commodity. She bites her lip in concentration her body hungrily reaching out for its impending detonation. It eludes her like a wisp of mist that slips through her fingers.

Needing more, she ups the ante by sliding a finger into the greedy grasp of her entrance and pumping it in and out a few times. She tries to imagine that the digit is Mon-El’s but his fingers are longer and more dexterous than hers. Her body refuses to be fooled.

She adds another finger searching for that divine stretch, that feeling of oneness that filled her when he entered her. She recalls wondering if his length and girth would fit within her untried passage, only to feel, when he entered her, like she’d never before been so deeply connected to another person. Beyond the mere casing of their separate skins, there was no discerning where she ended and he began.

Adding a third finger to her endeavor, it becomes increasingly clear that her body will accept no substitute. Kara replays the sound of Mon-El groaning as he labored over her, grunting as he doubled-down on his efforts and finally a deep, resonating growl when his on climax struck. But none of it pushes her over the edge like it should.

Back to her clit, she toys with the bundle, vibrating her own finger against it until the build within her reaches a painful fever pitch. At last, she topples over the edge, falling a disappointingly short distance back to reality. Her orgasm is dismal and unsatisfying, leaving her with the same amount of sexual tension as when she started.

Kara turns and leans back, her head against the tile wall, swiping away a stream of water from her flushing face. Her knees give way beneath her and she slides to the floor. Nothing else—no one else—will do, she realizes; only him. Him. In the beginning her plan had been for Mon-El to rid her of her virginity, so that she could be open to a sexual relationship with anyone of her choosing. But somewhere in the candlelit darkness of her bedroom last night, her carefully considered plan had quite thoroughly backfired.

She could no longer be open to just anyone, because no amount of denial would bury the fact that, at times, he had used his abilities to facilitate their lovemaking. To make it better for her. No human man can provide that, she knows. Perhaps she could have sex with a human, but her pleasure would be muted without his strength and speed.

Not to mention, she would have to spend every moment aware of the fragility of her lover. A human partner might offer emotion and attraction, perhaps even connection, but it would never be true intimacy. The kind of intimacy that would give her the freedom to lose control without fear – to surrender control with complete trust. Kara draws her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her shins, tucking her forehead into the crook there. After only one night together, she is certain of one immutable fact.

That Mon-El of Daxam has ruined her.

TBC

#karamel #karamel fic #hanging on letting go series

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

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Bea & Ro

Bea: What time were you planning to go to mass on your birthday? Ro: [a time that is ridiculously early af] Ro: You're going to be there to present me with my rosary right? Bea: I thought it was just before the party, when is that starting? Ro: Traditionally, yes, but I don't want to hurry through it as if it's not important Ro: [a time for when the party is starting] Bea: Right Bea: it's just that it was going to be a struggle to get back for the party as is Bea: That's essentially adding an extra day to my stay Ro: but you're the closest thing to a godparent I have, spiritually Ro: I don't know who else could do it Bea: and I know that you really want to do this Bea: I'm just not sure if I can make this happen, the schedule doesn't have much wriggle room Ro: okay, I suppose you can lead the last doll ceremony at the party instead Ro: I was intending to have Ali give it to me, since she made the outfits and everything but I'm sure she'll understand Bea: I don't mind if Ali does it Bea: it isn't as if this is actually traditional to us Ro: I'm trying to create my own traditions, it means something to me in that sense Bea: I'll try to make the party Bea: Yes, I know Bea: but I can't have my life revolve around it for a full calendar week Ro: I can't help when in the calendar my birthday falls in relation to your university terms Bea: Of course not but this is a lot, Ro Ro: No, it isn't Ro: it's a party that you'll try to attend Bea: I don't know of any other party you have to attend church to go to Bea: unless it's a wedding Ro: I haven't thrown any other parties prior to this Bea: You know what I mean Bea: this doesn't need to be such an event, does it Ro: It's my birthday, it's allowed to be whatever I want it to be Bea: Right Bea: well I don't know if I can come, alright Ro: well, if you want me to tell you that's fine, I won't, because it isn't Bea: What do you want me to do? Bea: The workload is insane Ro: if you are unable to cope with it approximately a month after Christmas break, what would you like me to say or do? Ro: *before Bea: Don't talk like you have any idea about the workload, firstly, that's what you can do Bea: You haven't even done your leavers yet Ro: You only just got back, that's common knowledge Ro: being snowed under is a poor excuse Bea: They set the assignments at the start of term Bea: even if I have all term to do it, would you suggest I leave it to the last minute? Ro: I would suggest you learn more effective time management some time before you graduate Ro: since you asked Bea: Please Bea: You're in a strop but don't be a brat about it Ro: you're well aware of when I was born, it's nobody's fault but your own if you can't handle your own schedule to coincide with long established party plans Bea: I'm aware it's in the middle of term, Ro Bea: and I go to school in another country and am living on student loans Bea: I'm not flying back for every little thing Ro: it's one of the shortest possible plane rides and you're more than happy to take advantage of that when it suits you Ro: or Fraze Bea: That's my business Bea: and I don't come back as much as you're trying to put on Ro: and I don't ask you to come back ever, or for anything Bea: It's clear you're only concerned about yourself Ro: for one day a year, why is that so uncalled for? Bea: Because, all this is just ridiculous Bea: you aren't Latina Ro: look for the ridiculous in anything and you will find it Ro: or if you prefer, all great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning Bea: You do it with Ali, as per Bea: you don't need me for any of this Ro: that's just as well since you can't be relied upon to take part in any of this Bea: If it was important, I'd be there Ro: it is important to me Bea: I can't say you've inspired me to make any greater attempts than I already have Ro: of course not, your mind was already made up when this conversation began Ro: however inspiring I am or am not is irrelevant because of your unwillingness to prioritise me regardless Bea: You seem pretty convinced of a few things yourself Bea: It isn't exactly the easiest time for me, regardless of my time management Ro: it's my 15th birthday that approaches, not my 5th, I'm utterly convinced that waiting at the window for you is an empty pursuit Bea: You're being dramatic Bea: and if you'd like to compare 5th birthdays with me, feel free Ro: and yet I'm the one who's supposedly being dramatic Ro: one great sacrifice and you're content to never consider making another in my honour, however big or small Ro: okay then Bea: I didn't sacrifice anything for you Bea: They died, there's no good behind us Bea: I got help, we got out of there, end of Ro: maybe that's the end of the story as far as you're concerned Ro: it's the beginning of mine Bea: We aren't even talking about that Bea: yet another topic you know nothing about and I'm not willing to endure lectures on Ro: they died on the same day, it's impossible to talk about one without the other Ro: if I were being dramatic, that would be cause enough Bea: What does it matter? Bea: Can you remember it? No Ro: that in itself matters, having nothing to remember them by except you and your memories which you're as unwilling to share with me as you are to make any time to celebrate with me now Bea: I was 4, I don't have any memories either Bea: That's how it is, there is nothing to celebrate there Ro: Fine Ro: I'll leave you to your assignments then Bea: I will send your present Ro: Thank you Bea: Right Bea: if anyone asks, tell them what you like Ro: it's unlikely anyone will given how selfish I'm apparently being and how air tight your reasons for not showing up supposedly are Ro: besides, I have enough to do without indulging in any games of chinese whispers as to your whereabouts Bea: Then you best get on with it Ro: I have my own schedule under control Bea: I've not got the time to have this petty back and forth with you and if you're as busy as you say, that shouldn't be a problem Ro: finally, something you're right about Ro: it isn't a problem Ro: continuing this conversation with you is a waste of my energy Bea: Off you go then Ro: See you at Christmas, assuming you decide that's worth returning for Bea: Either way, you won't be waiting at the window Ro: precisely Ro: and you'll have my present sent if you don't appear yourself, little else mattering at times like these anyway Bea: You aren't upset I'm not coming, you're only upset your plans are compromised Bea: because if you remotely gave a shit about me being there, you would've approached this whole conversation differently Ro: experience has taught me what you value and what you don't Ro: I'm not about to make any kind of impassioned plea in order to be a hastily added footnote Ro: particularly if it follows that I'm to be blamed for your ensuing university hardships should you dare to attend Bea: You know me so well Bea: wait, no, we both agree that is laughable Bea: so spare telling me what I will or won't do or say, my sides are splitting as is Ro: perhaps I will when you respond in kind and stop telling me how I feel or why Bea: Experience isn't something you are solely blessed/cursed with Bea: I can only react to what I'm presented with Ro: you don't want to come, of course you're reacting in line with that, that's what I'm being presented with Bea: Of course I don't, but it's about obligation regardless Ro: you've long been free from any and all obligation towards me Bea: Don't be delusional Ro: you should make time for church if you're going to make yourself such a martyr to my existence Bea: Guess what, we're not Catholic either Ro: There is no we, my faith is my own Bea: Nah Ro: you don't speak for me on any subject, especially my personal beliefs Bea: It's bullshit, Ro Bea: no one chooses to be a Catholic Ro: I have Bea: Yeah, well you would love to be special Ro: I'm so unsurprised that you manage to find enough time to be confrontational Bea: If I were to actually call you out on all your bullshit, we'd be here 'til your 18th Ro: feel free to write the most urgent of your grievances in the card you'll send Bea: You don't deserve a gift that good Ro: that much we can agree on Ro: I don't deserve any of this from you Bea: For god's sake Ro: Stay there, as we said, nobody but me thinks it's unfair that you aren't coming Bea: I'm sure they do Ro: Well, I have not and will not ever care what your boyfriend thinks Bea: As I understand, it's mutual Bea: and he's more than just my boyfriend to you Ro: no, he isn't Bea: How do you think you get to pick and choose? Bea: you can't claim Ali and ignore everyone else, they exist too, like it or not Ro: In much the same way you and he both did, I would imagine Ro: if I were to claim him as my brother, being your boyfriend would be abhorrent and it's obvious what you would both rather by now Bea: Your choice to not integrate and be part of this family has nothing to do with me Ro: Likewise Bea: Fuck you Bea: you had every chance, this is the only one you've ever known Ro: by your own admission you had all the same chances, no sacrifices made for me and no memories of the former Ro: you chose him and he chose you, you're the one being delusional if you think there was room for me and him to still play happy families afterwards Bea: Now you want to believe me, convenient isn't it Ro: and you want to have your cake and eat it, it's an appropriately timed idea, at least Bea: This isn't about me, it's about you being ungrateful Ro: No, it's about you attempting to tell me how to behave as if you reside in an ivory tower instead of a glass house Bea: You're having your teenage rebellion phase, fine Ro: again no, I'd be more than willing to listen to you had you actually said anything worth listening to Bea: Sure Ro: Undeniably so Bea: No, bullshit, again, Ro Bea: you don't listen to anything anyone has to say because you think you're right about everything despite the obvious Ro: you can't garner a receptive audience because you're just talking and talking without pausing for breath or to listen yourself Bea: This might be a big conversation for you, but that's only because you never talk to anyone but yourself either Bea: I'm actually busy, with things far more important than your tantrum Ro: Go and devote yourself fully to those things then, I already told you to do so Bea: You think you tell me what to do? Bea: No Bea: I'm not so single-minded Ro: If I had any desire to waste my breath I'd do so during a piano lesson with one of my more challenging students, when I'm paid to Bea: Yes, that about sums you up Ro: thus allowing you to draw a line under me Ro: and all of this Bea: No Bea: that's your move Bea: if you're going to be as callous as to want it, at least have the follow-through Bea: I'm not making this one easy for you, lest I be accused of martyrdom again Ro: I wouldn't dream of trying to compete with you in the stakes of who is the most callous Bea: I miss a birthday, how much have you skipped out on, Ro? Bea: When are you ever fucking here? Ro: such a convenient scapegoat for you when you no longer wish to be held to your own account Bea: If you want to be a ghost, you don't get to defend yourself Bea: dead people don't get to prove or deny any claims made about them Ro: the dead are far superior conversationalists than you, in my experience Bea: Your imagination, it'd have to be Ro: boundless though it is, no Bea: You don't know any dead people, and that's the truth of it Ro: I've met lots of them Bea: No, you haven't Bea: and how many people turn up to your party is going to reflect that Ro: yes I have, and how many people turn up to my party reflects how many people I chose to invite Ro: for all the things you deign to lecture me on, having a select social circle is perhaps one of the most hypocritical Bea: If there was any element of choice, it'd be you and Ali Bea: it's obligation and the guestlist of your not family reflects that both ways Ro: this repetition is neither effective nor amusing Bea: It's the sad fucking truth and someone needs to smash it through your thick skull Ro: a chore you'll never be too busy for when you take such delight in it Bea: I hate talking to you Bea: do you seriously not understand how much you make my skin crawl Ro: and yet here you still are Ro: how ghoulish Bea: because I am your sister Bea: your actual sister, and it isn't optional Ro: hardly, we both opt out regularly as previously highlighted Bea: No, I don't Ro: you currently are Ro: and you have on many other occasions Bea: Not being able to stomach a whole performance from you trying to be someone else is not opting out Bea: I wouldn't still be here if that were an option Ro: you'd have to know who I was in order to have the slightest indication of whether or not I was attempting to be someone different Bea: I know who you are Bea: but don't insult me by pretending you have the slightest inclination Ro: you insult me with such a barefaced lie Ro: you don't know me at all Bea: You wish Ro: I'm not in the habit of wasting wishes Bea: How's that working out for you? Ro: Perfectly Bea: Then that's really sad Ro: You're a very convincing adult Bea: That's allegedly what you're preparing yourself for Ro: sober disenchanted maturity, so Wuthering Heights asserts among many other turns of phrase Ro: you're more suited to it Bea: You know, drunken, enchanting or youthfulness aren't words anyone would apply to you Bea: so I'd be more careful with what I asserted if I were you, you aren't likely to be thrilled with what you get back Ro: I am content without the constant appraisal of others right now, perhaps when I find my own way to university we can swap places though Ro: if nothing else, it'll grant you a rest Bea: Of course you are Bea: you haven't spent this entire conversation doing just that Bea: at least package your delusions as somewhat believable to anyone else or you just look wholly derranged Ro: this entire conversation is centred around the disruption of my plans and thus my self discipline is the only thing seeking to be placated as you yourself commented Bea: You've sought out every opportunity to assert your appraisals of me, unprompted and unforgiving Bea: I wasn't going to come out of genuine lack of ability, but the poison of spite and bitterness was barely held back between your pursed lips, no need to push hard for all that to spill forth Ro: however you decide to excuse your absence makes no difference to me Bea: It makes no difference because nothing does with you Bea: you'd rather I wasn't there because at least then you have something to lament over Ro: I'd rather you weren't because you've made no secret of the fact you don't want to be, as always Bea: because it's fantasy, none of it is real Bea: what is the point of us going through the motions of pretending to have this life-affirming bonding experience when it'll be nothing close Bea: how easily I could be swapped out for any other bit player confirms that, it isn't true, and this all means fuck all to you Ro: you could be so easily swapped out because necessity has dictated it on more prior occasions than either of us have the time or inclination to call to mind Ro: you kept yourself at a distance long before you left for Cambridge, lecturing me about my lack of integration or whatever you called it doesn't change that Bea: Because it was not me you needed to intergrate with, is the point Ro: romantically aligning yourself with Fraze and babysitting Rocky on occasion doesn't mean you can point out my perceived failings as if you're an expert, moreso Bea: This constant comparison is pointless and not what I'm talking about Bea: you were meant to be a part of this family Bea: YOU, not me Ro: and I am Ro: if only because they're obligated to care for and about me as you're so quick to point out at every single opportunity Bea: if you think that's the only reason, legitimately, for them, then you're proving my point about how out of touch you are Ro: you're the one who keeps propping up this conversation with that as the reasoning Ro: whether or not it has ever crossed my mind hasn't been brought up for discussion Bea: No, it's you failing to do your part, that obligation is a two-way street Bea: you're the one giving it negative connotations Ro: being in someone's debt rarely has positive ones Bea: That's what family is Ro: and contrary to what you believe, I fulfil my responsibilities to this one Bea: If you say so Ro: I do Bea: Then that's all that matters Ro: I'm well aware of what does and doesn't matter Bea: Okay Bea: not me you need to convince Ro: I'm also well aware of where to place my conviction so that it isn't misplaced Bea: Seems like it Ro: Goodbye Bea

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40countdown · 6 years

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Mezcal, 500 lbs of Chinese Food and the Anxiety Gross Out (16 Weeks To Go) 09-10-18

This is a weird one to write. I had a solid week even though I missed working out on Monday due to an overwhelming feeling of blah from having a few beers on Sunday of Labor Day weekend.. it really takes very little to knock me off my routine. Not sure if that’s b/c the routine is demanding or if it’s b/c even though I do enjoy routine, I’m not very good at it.. having lived most of my life sort of blowing with the breeze.

So this week I worked out 3 days instead of 4.. still did the yoga on Tues and Thur.. but only meditated for 5 minutes on one day :) crushing it! haha! I did the 5 min meditation at school right before a long day of class (2 back to back 4 hour classes) and it wasn’t the deepest plunge into zen, but it still felt like a good move. This week I’ll shoot for more than 5 mins and hopefully I can beat that.

Saturday night I joined my roommate’s birthday party celebration mostly as an opportunity to do some necessary bonding with my cohabitants, but I did have a good time. We got pretty fired up shooting Mezcal, and I (my team) won 9 straight games of beer pong. Ha! She turned 27, so that was the crowd. It was a good night, but a funny thing happened on Sunday. First of all, I was hungover like a son-of-a-bitch and didn’t move from my bed, aside from the absolute necessities, all day. I tend to act in extremes, so when the wheels come off they really come off and Sunday I acted like it was cheat day at fat camp.. I literally ate a grocery bag full of Chinese food in bed while watching football on my laptop.

About halfway through the Chinese grocery bag and about the same way through the day I started feeling the gross creep of anxiety.. knowing that I had blown off the entire day.. and with class coming up the next day.. I started feeling very uneasy.. like I was behind or unprepared or I’m not exactly sure, but I do remember reading about this Sunday anxiety thing that people get.. although I think this is the first time I’ve ever had it, or at least the first time I’ve been aware of it. I haven’t had a regular job most of my life so maybe that’s part of the reason I never had or noticed the experience but it was very real and no fun at all. Kind of feels a little like you’re caught in a slow moving low level nightmare.. waiting for some unknown horror to appear. Stopping to google the Sunday anxiety articles..

Well.. the article I looked at said the basic obvious stuff which is that thoughts start swirling about work obligations.. but I actually like my job and I am not worried about anything here aside from a healthy amount of concern that I’m prepared for class and doing a good job teaching. And I do have a class on Monday nights, so that was a little part of it I’m sure, but.. I think I compounded my suffering by being hungover and it was in the midst of those gross almost nauseating waves of anxiety that I started reflecting on how fragile my chemical situation really is. I have noticed my general mood improved since I’ve been exercising so much lately #endorphins Apparently, so much so that taking a day completely off where I hardly move at all basically tips all the dominoes linked to the negatives in my head.. and with the film project still needing so much to be done I constantly feel I’m a little behind there, so the anxiety of zeroing out a full day feels a little like being stuck in a haunted house, but w/ bonus guilt for having done it to myself.

Anyway.. the thing I think I’ve gathered from reflecting on this experience, which I may not have done without the self-imposed obligation of writing this blog, is that I have to manage my brain soup with more forethought. For the most part I think I’m doing a pretty good job of this by the way, but.. I remain open to adjustments and without overreacting - as I mentioned, I tend to do things in the extreme - I’m going to make a temporary alcohol rule. Not complete abstinence b/c I can foresee a few situations where having a drink with a friend is going to be the right thing to do, but.. 2 drink maximum and I’m gonna say that is the limit for the week which basically means at most 1 night where I have 2 drinks. I will let that stand until the film is finished.. and maybe it becomes a general part of “my way” that I violate only on occasion afterward. There’s just too much I want to do and enjoy doing to lose all that time and w/ the gross feelings that get sprinkled on top of the banana shit split hangover.. it’s not worth it.

All of this not because I’m bothered by how I behave when drinking, by most accounts I’m quite fun when I’m drinking :) but.. the management of the emotional state has to get stronger consideration b/c I really did not like the way I felt and it was totally avoidable. I could absolutely have hung out and had a good time at the party while having one shot and then one drink and then tapping out early, but I hadn’t had the insight b/c I had never bared such complete witness to the shift in mood… now I have. And I don’t think I’ll forget any time soon.

I could wait til next week but this is already long so.. I’m just gonna dump it all.. I had another small realization this week that my quest to be in the best physical, mental and emotional shape of my life has been slowly morphing into a bit of an obsession with my relatively unremarkable amount of belly flab. And I’ve been very strict with myself on food for 90% of every week.. but I like food. I really like good food. Some people really don’t care and just see it as a energy source obligation.. (most of these people are vegans Ha!) I love my vegan friends, but I’ve had that conversation with a vegan, so don’t tell me it ain’t true. Anyway, I like flavors and different foods. I am going to go back to eating a more varied diet. As long as I keep working out regularly I will still be moving in the right direction. And I also think having a more satisfying diet day to day will help keep me from going full tilt and eating like a starved pig in a restaurant dumpster.

Goals: Meditate 3 times, Yoga and Blast Movie Teaser Out by end of Week.

Thanks for reading.. I know this was a long one. Hopefully some of my “insights” are occasionally useful for you and not just public therapy for me :) either way I appreciate you!

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ixvyupdates · 6 years

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My Kids Are Obsessed With ‘Fortnite’ and It’s Not Such a Bad Thing

“Fortnite” has taken over my house and there’s a good chance it has taken over yours, too.

It is the newest and coolest video game, particularly popular with boys, and when I say I’ve never seen my kids love anything more than this game, I’m really not kidding. They’ll hop out of bed at 6 a.m. on a weekend to play. They’ll race to get their homework done so they can play. They’ll even try to feign being sick so they can stay home to play. Mom doesn’t fall for that one.

They will even spend hours watching videos of other people playing. Good use of time, right? They argue that it is.

And don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a rant because I hate the game. I don’t.

Unlike many video games that isolate boys into what can be a very unsocial and even antisocial space, “Fortnite” is interactive. In the spirit of the old school employees at Banana Republic, most kids wear headsets that allow them to communicate, hands free, with one another while they play.

I have to confess that since kids practically never talk on the phone anymore—talking on the phone was life when I was a tween—it is sort of fun to hear them talking to their buddies and yelling, “I’m down, I’m down,” or, “Look out, they’re right behind you.”

I also get a bit of evil satisfaction when I hear them say, “Guys, my mom says I gotta go.”

That’s right. The woman who carried you in her body for 40 weeks and threw up for 20 of those weeks wants you to put down your little answering service lady headset and get the hell upstairs.

“OK, OK, it’s my last game.”

This is the most common rebuttal to the “time to get off that game” refrain echoing through practically every house in America.

taking turns

But here’s the thing.

Unlike when it’s my last Dorito and—sadly—over in a flash, a last game in “Fortnight” can last for what feels like forever because it doesn’t end until their guy dies.

If I’m in a decent mood and the whole “Fortnite” thing hasn’t already shortened my fuse, I’m cool with the whole “this is my last game” deal. But God help my kids when I’ve just tripped over their backpack and found their cup (the baseball kind) on the kitchen counter and they default to their “it’s my last game” strategy. Because then, there is no last game.

Now, if you are a mom of multiple boys—three in my case—and only allow one Xbox in the house as we do, you will likely agree that the whole issue of sharing and taking turns with “Fortnite” is the root of most video game-related family discord.

The arguing and the headache-inducing medley of “he played longer than me” and “when’s it’ going to be my turn?” and “I’ve only been playing for, like, five minutes,” is enough to send you straight over that edge with Thelma and Louise.

One of the game’s greatest assets—other than that it’s free—is ironically also the cause of the most strife on the family front: Anyone of any age and any skill level can play.

So, yes, that means that my 9-year-old and my 13-year-old are fighting over whose turn it is to play the same game. And if Chance the Rapper or Gordon Hayward lived here, they’d be whining too because even adult celebrity types are loving—and playing—this game. (Though my guess is that neither of those famous millionaire men would accept my “only one Xbox and you have to be off by 8:30 p.m.” rules but the point still stands that this game is all the rage whether you’re 6 or 36.)

Everyone telling me to try #Fortnite…Jumped on @fbach stream and I'm already making plays like this. #quickscope #pc #imamonster @hyperx pic.twitter.com/dWsah3vNKO

— Gordon Hayward (@gordonhayward) March 19, 2018

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Putting Out ‘Fortnite’ Fires

Parental reaction to “Fortnite,” at least in our house, seems to vary in direct proportion to the parental moods and/or stress level of the given moment.

There are times when the game actually has a blissful quality because my boys are happy and entertained for hours and I can work, read or even watch a couple shows without interruption. If that heavenly trend continues, I just may have to splurge and sign up for HBO.

And who doesn’t love an hour to fritter away scrolling through Groupon and Zulilly uninterrupted so you can buy some dumb monogrammed item you’ll have forgotten you bought until it arrives weeks later and you’re waving the package around asking, “Who bought this?”

But there are other times—lots of them—when I kind of want to throw a YouTube-worthy nutty every hour on the hour because it seems like from the second my boys awake ’til the time they go to bed, I am putting out “Fortnite” fires—and when mama’s patience wire has been tripped repeatedly in a short period of time, the kids know to expect my firehose to be on full blast.

Why Do I Let Them Play?

I can already hear your questions that we all know are really just judgements with a question mark at the end: Why do you let them play the game? Why not get rid of the Xbox altogether? Why aren’t they spending their time eating organic carrots and playing outside?

To all of that, my responses are simple.

“Fortnite” is what my boys currently most enjoy when they are inside and not busy playing sports and going to school. But much more importantly, their love for this game has provided that most perfect lever, or carrot, if you will, when it comes to kids and chores. They will do whatever they need to do if it means they can play “Fortnite” and that means that healthy bribery—ahem, I mean accountability—is alive and well and quickly ratcheting up in this blessed home.

Dishwashers get emptied, clothes get put away, homework gets done, I can even get my feet rubbed, if they know that “Fortnite” is waiting at the end of mom’s to-do list. Unfortunately, I’m the farthest thing from a domestic goddess and my cleaning ideas are limited but something tells me that if I really wanted them to scrub the bathroom grout with a toothbrush, they would.

Can you get me a seltzer with ice? Can you go out to my car and get my bag? Can you feed the dogs? Miracle of all miracles, they will even take a shower without any argument or stalling if they know they can squeeze in a few rounds of “Fortnite” afterward. Can we say jackpot?!

This is a win-win. It certainly doesn’t feel like a win all the time—like when I feel like a lunatic who does nothing but curse the day that “Fortnite” came into being.

But, on balance, the kids are having a blast with their game—including with kids they may not hang out with much but know from school and sports—during their downtime at home. They are so motivated to play that they are also becoming my long-overdue personal assistants.

Sure, they fight or talk back and sometimes lose the privilege of playing, and instead win a front seat to a short but intense mom rant about gratitude and how not to be a total a**hole, but for the most part, I put “Fortnite” in the plus column.

God knows I am getting far more out of it than I ever did from bottle flipping and fidget spinners.

An original version of this post appeared on Good School Hunting as To Be a Mom in the Age of Fortnite.

Photo courtesy of Fortnite/Facebook.

My Kids Are Obsessed With ‘Fortnite’ and It’s Not Such a Bad Thing syndicated from https://sapsnkraguide.wordpress.com

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