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spookyspecterino · 1 year

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Grunt Work

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain sometimes, like in the game.

Canon typical violence: blood, injury, mentions of death, guns, language, romance, kissing. All PG-13.

Spoilers for the “Grunt Work” Quest

It’s the very first UC Vanguard quest. If you haven’t played it yet, I highly recommend it. Out of my 20-ish hours playing it’s my favorite so far.

No spoilers for the end of game (I haven’t even gotten close to it yet) or anything to do with Sam Coe’s romance questline (I haven’t finished that either).

Non-spoiler summary for this fic/quest:

Reader and Sam Coe go to Tau Ceti II to check up on the settlers in the Tau Gormet Production Center.

More descriptions of the fic with a more specific summary below the cut. I’m being very specific about spoilers because for most people, myself included, we’ve only had the game for a week.

More specific summary of this fic/quest:

The UC Vanguard sends you on a routine mission to check in on a settler colony on Tau Ceti II—it turns out to be anything but routine. With Sam Coe at your side, your first Vanguard mission is a baptism by fire.

Characters: Hadrian, Sam Coe, Vasco (mentions of other characters: Cora Coe and Barret)

“Vasco, do a quick comms check for me. I want to make sure it’s working after it glitched out on the last planet.”

The tall robot makes some beeping and whirring noises. The way it stares into nothing bothered you at first, but after some time you’d gotten used to it—even appreciating how it followed commands without hesitation. Over by the ships on and off-boarding ramp, Sam says goodbye to Cora. A smile spreads across your face as you watch them.

The Frontier’s external lighting illuminates the surrounding landing site. An otherworldly moon hangs in the night sky. You take one more moment to do a last check of your pack’s contents. This was going to be a routine check-in mission, but it never hurt to be safe than sorry.

“Comms are operational, Captain.”

“Thank you.” You wave goodbye to Cora who smiles and waves back before returning to the Frontier. “Comms are good Sam, ready to go?”

Your companion saunters over with that signature ranger’s confidence. “Always.”

“Great. I think I’ve got everything. Vasco, have I got everything?”

“Scanning now.”

Sam shifts from foot to foot. “Storm’s rolling in.” He comments, looking into the distance. “I’d like to get there before it starts raining.”

Sure enough, muted thunder rolls on the horizon and the wind picks up a touch.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, cowboy.”

“I don’t even know what a horse looks like.” He mumbles.

Vasco beeps affirmatively. “The necessary items are present, Captain. However, you are carrying more than the recommended amount.”

You sling your pack over your shoulder with a grin, ignoring the second part. “Thanks Vasco. You know, for a second there Sam, I thought you were going to say something about your joints hurting.”

“Ha ha. I’m not that old.”

You make a teasing face at him as you start heading toward the compound’s lights in the distance. The trek isn’t bad, mostly flat terrain with a few rocks here and there. The wind continues to pick up, carrying the scent of rain.

Sam hops over a rock, taking his place by your side. “Not to sound too over-eager to get this Vanguard busy work out of the way, but, where’s our next stop after this?”

“I was thinking we could explore the rest of this system. How’s that sound?”

“You know me, no complaints here.”

A radio tower comes into view, red lights along the sides flashing periodically. Beyond it is the main compound.

“Oh, Cora asked to keep an eye out on books specifically about ship reactors. She thinks she can fix ours.”

You hike your pack higher on your shoulder, already feeling the soreness. Blast your incessant need to carry every type of weapon part with you at all times. “I’ll be on the look-out. If she can save me a few credits and fix it herself, she’s welcome to try.”

“She’s a brilliant kid, but let’s do it on a planet with an actual mechanic who can make sure it works after. I have faith in her, but she’s 11 and you can’t learn everything from books—”

“Hold up. Sam. Stop.”

He freezes, noticing your stock-still posture, eyes fixed on the wide-open doors of the radio tower. Bright light filters out into the night.

“Does that look like a body to you?” you ask him, pointing toward a slumped over shape laying against a supply crate.

“Sure does.”

Unholstering your pistol, you both crouch and move closer. The grass underfoot sways in the wind.

It’s a grisly scene. Multiple bodies litter the area. All settlers—dressed in civilian working clothes. Blood splatters dot the concrete, some trail back to a body. Sam whistles, short and low, to get your attention. He’s looking inside. On the table is a settler, face up, arms splayed out and gutted. Clothes stained a vibrant red. Deep claw marks gouge out sections of the floor.

“No bullets, no casings in sight.” He murmurs close to your ear. “And it’s all fresh.”

You don’t need to look at him to know he shares your particular anxiety. “Let’s check out the main compound.”

Moving out of the small building and down toward the tar mac, you’re about to say something about the wrecked ship when an alien scream interrupts you. It sets every hair on end. Never have you heard a sound like that, even on the many planets you’ve explored.

In little to no time after the scream, a sharp static crackles over your comms, making you jump. Sam shuffles closer, crouched low next to you. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he may have chuckled, but he stays frozen and somber faced.

“I am so glad to see you.” The voice, a woman’s, sounds heavy with relief. “I think it knows you’re here. Hurry up to the second-floor office, I’ll unlock the door.”

As you make your way into the compound, it feels like walking straight into the lion’s den. Every sense is on high alert. Lightning flashes, making you see things in the shadows that aren’t really there. Only Sam’s presence behind you keeps you level-headed.

The brightly lit, glass windowed office only makes you feel worse, like a sitting duck on display.

“I’m Hadrian.” The woman introduces herself curtly while holding her side. “Are you my saving grace?”

“Not exactly. I’m UC Vanguard—sent to check in on the settlers.”

“Well shit.” She leans against the table, eyes closed in pain.

“Please don’t tell me we’re dealing with a Terrormorph here.” Sam asks, beating you to the punch.

She sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Shit. That’s bad news, Captain. Real bad.”

“Listen,” Hadrian starts, moving away from the table, “I know you’re just two people, but you have to help me kill this thing.”

“And why’s that? Why don’t we all just leave now?” You ask.

“It’s unique. It showed up way too early. Tau Ceti’s only been colonized for 20 years. If this is a new kind of Terrormorph that matures faster and shows up earlier, we need to know.”

“Damnit.” You hiss. “Terrormorphs that show up after only 20 years of colonization could wipe humanity off the map.”

“Exactly.”

Rain begins to fall on the large windows with a clatter. The rolls of thunder were becoming booming clashes now. Visibility was already reduced at night, but now the storm made things worse.

You relent, giving up any notions of leaving. “Alright. I’ll help. Got any ideas on how to kill it?”

Sam’s eyeing you particularly hard from where he stands.

“Yeah, turrets. But we need to bring them back online and get them powered up. The terminal’s on ground level at the far end of the warehouse.”

Sam grunts. “So, closer to the Terrormorph?”

“I’m not sure where it is right now. My best guess is it’s still around the outer edge of the facility. But there’s a tracking system you can use on one of the terminals.”

You run a hand over your face. “Ok. Tracker and turrets. That’s better than nothing. I can make do”

“Radio me when you’ve reset the system and I’ll calibrate it from here. Thank you for helping and good luck.”

You and Sam sneak out one of the office doors into the warehouse. Fat raindrops fall on the metal roof, amplifying the sound into a loud drumming. It doesn’t come close to the volume of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Vasco, come in.”

“Reporting, Captain.”

“Initiate full lockdown on the ship. Tell Cora we ran into some trouble and are taking necessary precautions. If she seems worried, give her a book from my locker.”

“Yes Captain.”

You shut off comms and sling your pack from around your shoulders, attempting a commanding tone that you’ve always needed to fake. “Sam Coe.”

His usual raspy, low voice is layered with apprehension. “Captain?”

You’re pulling out weapon pieces from your pack for your rifle. They’re big—heavy duty—and add a decent amount of weight to the gun. “Go back to the ship.”

“I had a hunch you were gonna pull something like this. No. No way.”

“That’s an order—”

“Don’t try that with me. You know it ain’t gonna work.”

You pause, just as you’re changing out the rifle’s .50 Cal magazine with a 9x39mm eight round clip. “Sam.”

“I’m staying.”

His eyebrows are furrowed. Mouth slanted in a stubborn, almost angry frown. You’d have to dig deep. “Cora can’t lose you.”

“You always pull that card. It’s lost its affect.”

“…I can’t lose you either.”

You’ve never used that before and quite frankly are surprised to hear it come out of your mouth. Maybe it’s too soon. Up until now, you and Sam have only been flirting—no real feelings or moves have been made. It’s a bit of a jump, but you’re sincere.

His eyes hold yours unflinchingly. The crease on his forehead lessens a little. “Then you know how I feel and why I’m staying right here.”

He’s one-upped you and you weren’t prepared for it. You murmur a “Damit Sam” and go back to modifying your rifle. Fighting is pointless, and his admission has your nerves shaken more than you’d like. “Stay glued to my side unless I say otherwise. If things turn sideways and I order you back to the ship, you’d better listen. Got it?”

“Understood, Captain.”

“I mean it.”

A hint of his familiar smile returns. “I heard ya.”

“And Sam…”

“Hm?”

“No heroics.”

He doesn’t respond, his brows pinch together again. It’ll have to do.

Moving through the warehouse went excruciatingly slow. At all times you wished you could just get up and run instead, but it would signal the monster almost immediately. The whole situation made you feel like you were prey, scared and small. The addition of Sam’s presence put a heavy responsibility on your shoulders and that made you even more careful.

Hadrian was on your comms as soon as the system was reset. She directed you to the tracker frequency tuner in the same room. While finding the frequency, the system went into high alert—detecting the major threat. Your watch begins beeping steadily, and then rapidly speeds up. The Terrormorph was getting closer to your position.

Your eyes met Sam’s just as the alien appeared on the roof of the building outside. Right in sight from the room’s windows you were in. A rough hand yanks you down to the ground. Sam is crouched damn near on top of you, shotgun aimed up at it. However, it doesn’t notice you two in the dark room. You slowly cover the watch face to try and muffle the beeping sound. Maybe it was the rain, or the creature was just playing games, but it moved on past to a different part of the facility. Loud footsteps fading as it leaves. The radar lessens to a low, steady beat.

“Hadrian, come in.”

“I read you. The turrets are going to need their power sources reset with the security system in lockdown.”

“Great.” Sam sighs, lowering his gun. His shoulder leans into yours as he gets closer.

“We’ll find them. Out here.”

Reaching for your rifle, your hands visibly shook. You can feel Sam’s watchful gaze.

“Last chance to leave.” You whisper, aimlessly checking over your gun. You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder reaffirming.

“Not happening.”

The first power source wasn’t hard to find. You took the slow route, keeping an ear out for any changes in the radar frequency. The power switch was like a beacon, a big red switch on a yellow panel—it stuck out like a sore thumb. When you flipped it lights came on, loudspeakers announced to stand back…and the radar went nuts.

“Out, out, out!” You hiss, pushing Sam toward the far end door. He doesn’t need to be told twice as he beelines it.

With Sam leading, you follow him, scrambling up onto the roof of the building near the turrets. Two of the six are online now. Two more switches and you’ll have a fighting chance. Maybe.

Behind you, further in the facility, things crash. For now, it seems you’re safe.

You huff, lightening the death grip you have on your rifle. “Ok, here’s the plan. We’re going to split up.”

“I’m not gonna like this am I?”

“Take the watch. Find the power sources. I’ll create a distraction.”

“No.”

“Sam…” you exhale, closing your eyes. Despite the sheer terror you feel, you manage a chuckle. “We’re not going to get anything done if you keep arguing with me.”

“Let me create the distraction.”

“No.”

“Now who’s arguing?”

“Your shotgun has no range—it’s effectively useless, you’d be dead in two seconds.”

“Fair point. Then give me your rifle, I’m a good shot.”

You’re already unclasping your watch’s band from around your wrist. “I’m not taking the risk.”

“What if I wanna take the risk?”

Shuffling over while still crouched, you bring his arm closer. The watch slides on and you make sure to fasten it tightly. “You already know I won’t let you. At least now you can radio Vasco if…”

It didn’t need to be said.

He looks at the device and back to you. “Why is this startin’ to feel like you’re on a suicide mission?”

You can’t look at him or you’d lose the last of your nerve. “I’ll be on that walkway over there. It’ll have to run through the turrets to get to me and they’ll still have a shot when it tries to climb up.”

The way Sam chews his cheek really underlines how unhappy he is with this plan of yours. “Remind me to have a word with you about your savior complex when this is all over.”

“Hm. I’m looking forward to it.”

A gentle hand wraps around your arm. His eyes are soft, pleading. His other hand cups your face, it’s rough and calloused, but warm. “If you need to run, then run. You don’t have to die for some Vanguard that sends you on a ‘routine’ mission they were too lazy to check first—or for a colony full of dead settlers. Ok? I want you back, with me, alive, and in one piece.”

You don’t trust yourself enough to speak, something sappy or cheesy may decide to come out, so you simply nod.

It isn’t enough for him. “Please, say you’ll come back to me. I need to hear you say it.”

If he wasn’t so close, he may not have heard you through the pounding rain. “I’ll come back to you.” You pretended that you meant it, that you believed it.

“Thank you.” His hand falls away to hold his shotgun. “Now let’s kill this thing.”

“Be safe.” You manage before turning and heading toward your position. The chill of the rain creeps through your spine, but the warmth from Sam’s hand lingers on your cheek. You try to hold onto that feeling.

The steel walkway is sturdy and grated, giving you a good vantage point of the surrounding area. Once in position, you set up your rifle and lay flat, adjusting the scope. Lightning flashes, the crash of thunder isn’t far behind it. Water runs down your face and you wipe it hastily to keep it from your eyes.

The bright fire of the flare casts everything in red. With a good toss, it lands directly in the middle of the kill lanes. Bringing out your pistol you shoot once, twice, up into the air. The alien screams and the sound of wrenching, tearing metal draws near.

The hulking creature appears at the far end of the kill lanes, focused on the flare. It’s huge, big enough to fill your scope’s sights. You breathe deep and exhale slowly as you take your first shot.

The round hits the Terrormorph square in the back leg, crippling it for a moment. Blood leaks out onto the ground below. It lurches before regaining balance on its five other legs, letting out an enraged roar.

More lights come on in the facility. Sam’s already found one power breaker. Two more turrets begin to flash and come online.

The monster’s head swings in a different direction. Toward Sam, no doubt. The realization fuels you with a cold fury. You crank the rifle’s bolt-lever, a long bullet casing flies out of the chamber with a cling. Sliding the lever back with a heavy clunk you even your breath and prepare to take another shot.

You take it, aiming for its other back leg, but miss—the shot glances off the ground. Six shots left.

The thing’s giant head swings back to stare at you directly. Through your scope it’s as if you’re staring it directly in the eyes. Its front legs stomp the ground, and it roars. It ambles forward right into the kill lanes. Four turrets open fire, knocking it off balance and sending it sprawling momentarily. You take another shot, this time severing its thinner front limb.

The thing howls, ear splittingly loud and shrill, but claws its way back onto its feet. The turrets are doing damage, but it isn’t enough. It lurches toward you with surprising speed. The turret fire follows. You take a shot and miss. You exhale and your breath comes out shaking.

It's at the base of the building your walkway is on as Sam flips the final switch and the last of the turrets power up. The Terrormorph slows down a little, struggling to climb the building with two of its limbs missing. You have another 130 seconds, maybe, before it reaches you.

Your fifth shot hits it in the back, effectively doing nothing. The thing is bloody and losing steam from the constant onslaught of all six turrets. You start to feel hopeful. There’s movement to your left. It’s Sam on one of the rooftops. You’re about to give him a thumbs up when lightning flashes—some of the facility machines spark, an alarm sounds, and all lights except for auxiliary backups flatline. An unlucky power surge from the storm.

The Terrormorph has reached the base of the walkway below and is trying to make its way up, now free from turret fire. This would be your chance to run, but something holds you there. A false hope maybe.

You hold your breath, take a shot, and hit it square in the face. It doesn’t stop, clawing at the thin metal for purchase. Pulling the bolt lever and sliding it home, you fire again, chipping its other back leg and causing it to stumble. Metal rails groan and collapse under the monster’s weight. It falls to the ground with a metallic crash. You don’t fire, yet.

Sam is still on the other roof. You wave him off, pointing to the ship. Trying to make it clear that this was the order to run. A clashing sound below snags your attention back to the monster. It’s testing out the strength of the rail supports.

You’re aiming again as it springs up and begins throwing its weight at the steel rods. The vibration of the metal groaning and shifting with each impact reverberates through you. This is your last shot.

You fire and miss entirely as a section of rails to your right collapse and bend, tugging your section down. You’re forced to let go of your rifle to hang on. It clatters to the ground below.

More support beams collapse and you can feel the structure groan before you even hear it, vibrating hard enough to numb your hands. Trying to climb up the tilting walkway was a mistake as the shift in weight caused the whole thing, with you attached, to fall entirely. The feeling of falling was short-lived, something sharp sliced at your leg as you fell into the railing and walkway debris below.

For a moment, you lay dazed and in pain. The sound of rain patters around you on metallic surfaces. The whole walkway and railing fell over, the area was littered with jutted angles and metal parts. Something shifted under the debris. Something big enough to toss heavy metal away with ease. Any hope of the Terrormorph getting crushed by the impact was gone as it reared back and screamed. Its eyes, all six or seven of them, landed on you.

There was no way of escaping, debris had fallen over you. A particularly large beam held you in place on your back. Your pistol, the last line of defense, dug into your hip uncomfortably.

Sensing it had you trapped, the creature took its time closing the distance. Your leg was devoid of all feeling except a vague sensation of warmth spreading around it. The rails on top of you pinned you down, but you managed to free your measly pistol.

Only three or four of your shots made contact, others glanced off the Terrormorph’s armored shoulders or missed entirely. Either way, the low caliber did nothing to it. With an empty mag, and nothing else to defend yourself with, your arm fell to your side. You just hoped Sam was smart enough to listen and go back to the ship.

A loud blast caught the monster on the side of its head, snapping it away from you, and causing it to stumble.

Apparently, he wasn’t.

Sam emptied three more shells into the creature before reloading with cool, practiced ease. One blast dislocated the Terrormorph’s other back leg. Chunks went flying.

It howled and thrashed as he kept unloading shells into it. When he was completely out, he dropped the shotgun and picked up a long rod of metal with a jagged, broken end. The sharp tip sliced clean into its ribcage. When the alien still tried to pull itself up on its remaining two feet, Sam pulled it out with a yank and drove it home into the thing’s head, right above the mandibles. It gave one final spasm and finally fell dead.

At last, the only sound around you was the rain.

Sam dropped the crude spear with a clatter, eyeing the body a few times as he rushed over through the debris.

“You ok?” he panted, kneeling down. His hands cupped your face, bringing the familiar warmth with them.

“Holy shit.” Was all you were able to say.

It made him laugh with relief as he moved to check you over. “And you said a shotgun wouldn’t do anything.”

His hands moved debris from your legs, and he hovered as you yelped in pain. “You’ve got a nasty gash here. We need to get you back to the ship for medical attention. Let me see if I can get this off you.”

With a grunt of effort, he pushed the beam up enough for you to pull yourself out. Your leg was bleeding badly, but nothing you couldn’t fix with some TLC and bed rest. The pain hadn’t set in yet, thankfully.

Near you was a chunk of the Terrormorph’s leg. Feeling oddly disconnected from yourself, you grabbed it, staring at the gross thing, and put it in your pocket for Hadrian.

Sam started taking out bandages and doing what he could to wrap your leg. You could see his hands were shaking now.

Against all odds you both were alive; you started to laugh.

Sam gave you an odd look. “Don’t go loopy on me.”

A giant smile broke across your face. “Wasn’t expecting to live. There goes my chance at a cool memorial or bragging rights.”

“Going face to face with a Terrormorph and only losing a chunk of your leg gets bragging rights. Believe me.”

“Nah. All the credit goes to you on this one. That was just badass.”

He grunted, throwing more debris out of the way, and trying to clear a path. “Wasn’t thinking about how cool it looked when I did it. I was just trying to save you.”

“You know I’ll be telling this story forever, right?”

He chuckles, helping you up, slinging your arm over his shoulder and wrapping his around your waist. “I can see Barret’s expression now.”

“‘Sam Coe, my hero’ is how I’ll start it.”

He groans playfully. “Please don’t.”

“It’s true.” You looked at him as your feet touched even ground. Your faces were close. You could see the rain drops clinging to his hair and beard. “You saved my life.”

When he looked over, his nose nudged yours from close proximity. He didn’t shy away from the contact. Your paces slowed to a stop. “I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, either.”

Your grin was slow to spread as you glanced at his lips more than once. “Would you prefer a quippy one line as thanks?”

“Mm—no. Maybe something else though.”

You feigned ignorance as his eyes trailed down your face. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“I’ll let you think of it.”

“A hero’s song?” you joked, voice softening.

“Nope.”

“How about a poem?”

He faces toward the room Hadrian’s in with a low laugh and begins to walk again. “You know, if you were as much of a smartass to that Terrormorph as you are to me, it would have keeled over on the spot.”

You put your good foot down and hold it, halting any forward progress. “Ok, ok. I think I’ve come up with something.”

He’s still smiling as he looks at you. Your noses nudge again. “If you suggest a book or a short story—”

His surprised breath as your mouth presses to his is an award in itself. He stays motionless for a moment, as if his brain had short-circuited, before his lips move and mold to yours. Slow and tentative at first, exploratory. Soft and gentle as if he’s afraid of hurting you. His hand on your waist moves to your lower back, gripping your clothes. He leans into you, beard scratching the skin of your face. Your fingers slide through and tangle in his wet hair. It makes him pant into your mouth before kissing you again, more eager this time.

Breaking apart, you both linger close, hot breath mixing together. His forehead leans to yours, eyes still closed.

That raspy voice of his you love so much is the first to break the silence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.”

“You could have made the first move. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Was never sure if you were just being quippy and flirtatious for fun or not.”

“It is fun, but it’s also because I care for you.”

He hums, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Good to know, we’re going to have to find time for this more often.”

You close the distance enough to ghost your lips over his. “We have time now.”

He hesitates, so tempted with the offer, but exhales instead. “You’re hurt and bleeding all over the place, I need to get you some medical help. Plus, Hadrian needs her damn samples.”

“Pshh. I’ve got plenty of blood left—and she can be patient.”

He starts walking again, bringing you with him, and pressing the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt against the corner of your mouth. “Just wait until you’re healed. You won’t be able to keep me away.”

#Sam Coe x Reader #Sam Coe #starfield #gn reader

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birdylion · 4 months

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Thinking about the rural queer experience again. I can never truly go back to my hometown because most people there will misgender me all the time, no matter how I look. I can't live in a city because that's too stressful for me. I'm in a new rural community now, but I'm stealth there and I don't tell people I'm queer, so I'm basically back in the closet, which is rather isolating, even though I know who I am and where I stand, which is different from how it was in my teens. There's a city nearby where I can go for queer meetups etc, but I've yet to meet a group with which I really vibe. The trans group came close, but even they weren't my scene.

Then there's the thing that most offline queer spaces I know use "FLINTA" as a label more and more, which is supposed to be "inclusive" but actually means "everyone but cis men", and in practice the only spaces I've seen it used actually meant "women and nonbinary people" (including trans women, yay! and/but trans men only nominally). The last time I was in such a space I got misgendered all the time because everyone there assumed that any person who was there was aligned with womanhood so "she" was the default.

I don't get misgendered in my little village and volunteer community, because apparently nobody questions my gender there. It's a specific kind of masculinity that's prevalent there, the hardworking, sturdy and steady type. I don't quite fit in with that either, but well enough that I'm not questioned. In queer spaces, I feel I'm often seen as "in-between" genders even though I'm rather firmly (binary trans) male. Here, in the village, there's no concept of gender as a spectrum, and while the gender roles aren't as set as they used to be, there's still a firm line between men and women, which I know is a prison for those who aren't either, but for me it's actually a blessing. Here I come with all my knowledge of gender theory and understanding for nonbinary life experiences, and yet I don't talk about that, and I don't mention my own past/childhood, because the firm line between men and women actually affirms my own gender more than any queer scene in the city could so far. Getting to spend time with folks from these parts and being treated as one of the guys is SO gender affirming for me personally, it feels like finally I don't have to prove myself.

It reminds me of a trans woman from the city's trans meetup who said that the place that gets her the most misgendering are queer parties, while backwater villages are mostly fine because people see a person in a dress and think "woman".

While I truly feel at home here, my experience as someone who was a gay girl who grew up to be a man is still unique and something I don't share, even though I've been dealing with it for more than half my life and it deeply influenced my worldview and politics and how I interact with the world. It's like this secret identity that new people don't get to unlock that easily, which again is isolating with regards to my sexuality, because that IS very queer.

#birdypersonal #pride month #queer #trans

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redo-of-chii · 1 month

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💌 𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖎’𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕯𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖞 | 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 #𝟎𝟑

Dear diary & manifestors,

Even though the 3 days of the ¨3DOLC x ROE Challenge¨ have passed, I didn't stop affirming because it has become a habit already. I admit it is really difficult to remember to affirm every hour even with several apps because of ADHD and the things I have to do like work and housework. Plus this last week has been special because I spent it with my SP so every day has been wonderful.

Still, I have started to see movement and that's something that really made me happy. As a reminder, I'm currently manifesting my dream life (which is money, success, living comfortably, desired appearance, being spoiled by life and living with my SP since we are currently in a LDR), so movement in something like this has felt like a blessing.

Suddenly, people I haven´t worked with in a while have began contacting me. Person #1 gave me an offer with good pay but very bad terms, so I refused it but still they sided with me when it came to the terms of the offer and told me that they'll find a better offer and contact me ASAP because of how professional I am. I don't want to sell myself short but also I didn't want to accept anything that didn't align with both my values and my manifestation. Person #2 was someone I haven't spoken in years but mostly because they were having severe medical issues due to COVID and were on health leave for the longest time even if they were really beloved and people relied on them. They suddenly announced their comeback and returned in a higher position at their job (which happens to be one of my dream worplaces) and went straight to me to ask me to work together. I told them my situation and they told me that they would study a way for us to work together and benefit in ways we are both comfortable with.

I'm shocked because I didn't talk to them in quite a while and they reappeared like this. Manifestation DOES work and will accept these opportunities yet NOT accept if they don't align with my values and desires. I learned to appreciate myself through the law and I know that the law can give me more.

I must not conform with whatever I'm given, the law MUST COMFORM to what I desire fully after all.

I'll keep everyone informed with my progress!

Meanwhile, I'll think how to improve my mental diet and return to listening to subliminals while SP is at work. I'll also think about doing a digital exorcism as part of my mental diet besides some wellness. I might make a post about either mental diet or digital exorcism as soon as I have some time.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

꒰ Always & Forever — Chii ꒱

#chii's manifestation diary #law of assumption #self love #self concept #manifestation #instant manifestation #master manifestor #manifesting 🕯️🕯️🕯️#manifestation challenge #affirmyourreality #affirm and persist #loa tumblr #loa blog #loablr #creator of my reality

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theshadowrealmitself · 15 days

Text

It’s so weird for me, I’ve made a ton of progress this last year with finding stuff that’s gender affirming for me while also coming to terms with accepting parts of me that I can’t change, and I’m still far off from being fully comfortable in my body, but still, I’ve made so much progress, progress I just hadn’t been making beforehand

But it doesn’t look like anything to other people, they don’t understand the significance of my changes, and it happened over a year long period, so it doesn’t seem like sudden changes

But I lived that previous way for years, just barely tolerating my body for years, this is significant!!! but no one else can see that and it’s so weird to me

Like my previous hair style that I had a year ago I had been maintaining it for like a decade, and I mostly had that hairstyle as a way to cope with being in public because it hid my face a lot, and now I don’t have a hairstyle I like, but none of my hair covers my face anymore and I’ve been leaving my place with it actually pulled back a lot!!! That’s huge!!! I’ve just been??? Going in public?? Accepting how my face looks??? (Still wearing a mask, but still!!!)

But despite having had that prev haircut for so long, no one really thinks my new one is that big of a deal, and it’s just been small changes like that this year, like wearing a shirt that shows my shoulders despite my back acne, or wearing shorts despite my general shame of my legs

Idk I just needed to talk about this, it’s just so wild to me that no one has said anything to me irl, this has been a big year for me on working on myself and I really hope this progress continues!!!

#no fandom #appearance stuff #partially gender stuff #partially just body issues #my hair is pulled back!!!#my body doesn’t have every inch covered!!!#that’s significant!!!!!#it’s also been stuff like introducing myself by my chosen name and pronouns #acknowledging openly that I’m genderfluid #there’s still a lot of wanting to hop back in the closet #but there’s also wanting to fight to stay out of it #still so much progress to be made but the first steps have been taken!!!!

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transhuman-priestess · 1 year

Text

Lesson

A short story, by Ivy Michaels.

The following story contains a graphic depiction of surgery, with all the drugs and violence involved. It also includes graphic descriptions of pain. That is, in fact, the idea behind writing it.

And yes, this is smut.

“You know, dear, you’ve been such a good pupil these last few weeks.” Her voice comes to me through the curtain. I hear the click-clack of her heels on the linoleum floor, making an off-beat rhythm with the beeps and hums of monitors and pumps. She draws closer, and continues, “I think we’ve worked enough on theory, it’s time to move on to your practical lessons.”

The curtain is drawn back and I open my bleary eyes to see her. She’s dressed in the uniform she always wears. Rubberized olive drab canvas, sleeves pulled over the gloves, all seams taped over. Her face is mostly obscured by a surgical mask. Her hair is tied up under a paper hair net, though I can see a few strands of raven hair. All this despite the hood she wears with the clear face plate. I think she likes hiding her face from me, she’s never let me see it. Not all of it, not all at once.

“My darling,” she says, as kind and bubbly as ever, “you did so well on your nephrology unit last week, that I thought I’d give you a little treat!”

Images flash in my head. A slideshow of dissections. Parts of organs labeled. Ureter, renal artery, nephrons.

“Ah!” she says, approvingly, “I see you remember well!”

This is how it always is. She always knows what I’m thinking. I don’t know how that works. I have vague memories of sitting in a chair with my head in a device to immobilize it, but I can’t remember if that was a dream or an actual procedure. Memories are like that here. I know I haven’t been here long, but it feels like forever.

“I know you don’t understand, honey,” her voice falls to a gentle coo, “but don’t worry, I promise you will, eventually.”

I don’t mind it here, really. She’s very sweet to me. She teaches me things about myself I never knew. The other day, I think, she showed me where the vagus nerve is. I had forgotten what the bones in my palm are called, so she showed me how easily I could be disabled simply by applying a small electric shock to that nerve. The name of the bones was “metacarpals”.

That might seem harsh but she means well. Not in the sense that I’m rationalizing, either. I may not be able to remember why I’m here, but I sense that I am here by choice. I know it in my core It is, in fact, the only thing I know for certain.

“So, dear, are you ready?” she asks, “I’ve prepped room #5. The one with the seafoam green tile. I know it’s your favorite."

I hardly have to think about an affirmation. The bed thunks beneath me as she releases the brakes and begins rolling me into the hallway. One of the few things I recall from my time outside is this sensation, when I was very small, of being rolled through a hospital corridor on a cot. I can’t remember why I was there.

We turn a corner and my eyes come to rest on a pair of two-way doors, steel painted beige, with thin sheets of stainless to protect the doors from the impact of a gurney. Small windows of reinforced glass. The doors swing open and the cart jolts with the transfer of momentum.

Inside there are three other figures, all dressed identically to her, save for tinted, opaque faceplates. They are standing off to the side. Sometimes, they observe closely, sometimes they aren’t present at all, but always they listen to her commands, and never do they touch me without her explicit instructions. It makes me feel safe, knowing that she is the one in charge.

“Alright, dear, hold still while we move you to the table.” She grabs me by the shoulders, gently cradling me. One of the other figures grasps my legs, and together they move me onto the operating table. A second figure connects an IV line to the port in my arm. There’s a large mirror on the ceiling, so that I can observe.

“For this one, dear, you have a choice. Would you like the pain, or no?”

I want the pain. I always want the pain.

“Very well then. Paralytic only.” She nods to one of the figures, who hangs the appropriate bag on a hook above the table.

“Flex your fingers, dear.” She commands. I comply. After a few seconds I experience the sensation, curious as always, of being unable to move. An electric thrill of anticipation flies through me. It is almost time.

She unbuttons my gown, starting from the top, exposing first my breasts, then my stomach, and finally my groin. “Oh!” she says, “someone’s excited.” Of course I am. She’s never taken off my whole gown. This is something special.

“Oh,” she says, “I almost forgot, we’ll need to intubate.” One of the trio of assistants wheels over a cart with a ventilator. She takes a tube from it and tilts my head back, ever so sweetly. I feel the tube go down my throat, down past the epiglottis, my body trying to fight but finding itself disarmed by the paralytic. For ever so brief a moment I cannot breathe, and then I feel the beautiful sensation of air returning into my lungs.

“You did so well. I’m so proud of you!” she praises me as she applies tape hold the breathing tube in place.

“You know, this hood is very warm.” She says, and reaches up to unzip the hood from her suit. This is new. She hands the hood to one of the assistants, before bending down next to my ear and whispering, “I’m so proud of you.” And then she kisses me on the forehead, through her mask.

Standing back upright she says, “Okay, I’m going to make an incision…here.” she traces a line gently with her finger, from my sternum down, around my navel, ending at my pubic bone. “Are you ready?”

I am so ready that, if not for the paralytic, I think I might sob. She looks at me through the overhead mirror. I can see her smile through the surgical mask. “Very well then.”

She presses the scalpel to my flesh. Just a light pressure at first. Then, a stinging, and finally the burning, electric sensation of nerve endings being torn from their neighbors. It is the most incredible, all-consuming feeling. I can feel my brain trying desperately to force my limbs to push her away, to run from the room. I don’t want to, but I cannot, by myself, suppress the survival instinct. I feel tears well up in my eyes and flow down my cheeks.

“Very, very good.” she tells me, reaching up and stroking my hair. “You’re doing so well. Now, let’s see if you can tell me the names of everything in here.”

And gently, ever so tenderly, she slips her hand into my abdomen. I can’t remember what sex feels like, but I’m sure it doesn’t even come close to this. Knowing she’s so close to me is intoxicating. I feel her hand touch my small intestine.

“Very good!” she says, as she works her way up, to my stomach.

“That’s right” before moving on to my liver.

“That’s three for three! Very good!” the warmth in her voice fills my heart with joy. She’s so gentle. The pain is incredible, but it feels so good, because I know she’s the one causing it. I know she loves me, and I love her.

“Moving further down,” she continues, pulling her hand out, much to my disappointment. “Oh dear, don’t worry, I’ll be right back in in one moment”

And once again she plunges into my abdomen. The white-hot fire of the incision has faded slightly to merely red-hot smoldering. I feel her touch my sigmoid colon. “Excellent.”

Her hand moves to my left kidney. “Very good!”

I feel her grasp my bladder. “Perfect.”

She sighs, “It’s a shame I can’t reach your prostate from here, love.” A laugh.

“But that will be for later.” She stands and looks at one of the assistants. “Okay, sew her back up. Be gentle.” She must sense my disappointment, though, because she turns back to me. “Oh don’t worry, my dear, there’s one more thing left.”

It takes a while for the assistant to finish closing the incision in my abdomen. Time moves strangely in here, so I couldn’t say how long. By this point my body has numbed the incision area all on its own, leaving only the faint pulling and tugging of the sutures to be sent to my brain.

She walks back over and stands at the foot of the table. “You did so well there. I’m so proud of you. As a reward for how well you’ve done so far in your lessons, I’m going to perform one last procedure today.”

And with her most gentle touch yet, she pulls my legs to either side. “I know how much these bother you.” For a moment I panic, but she’s quick to reassure me. “Oh, not your legs, hon.” And it clicks.

“I’m going to cut right here.” she traces a line down the center of my scrotum. “And you’ll be rid of these forever.”

I feel the cold steel of the scalpel press in. The faint sting followed by the roaring thunder of pain. That high, heady feeling of endorphins rushes in again. I feel her, very faintly, reaching in and grabbing my right testicle.

"So, I know you hate these things. I hated mine, too.” She squeezes, hard, sending yet another rush of pain up and into my abdomen. “So I figured, why not simply take them away?” I feel the odd sensation of cold steel on my vas deferens. “Are you ready?”

I am.

I feel, for the briefest moment, a zing of pain and then the loss of signal that indicates a part of my body was severed. I feel her tying off the end.

“That’s one down. Time for the other.” Another hard squeeze on my left. “You’re taking this all so well! I’ll be sure to reward you when you’ve healed.” That same zing, that same loss of signal. I feel tears welling up. Not tears of pain, but joy, and love. I feel the repeated sting and tug and sting and tug as she sutures me back up.

“Okay love,” she says, at my side now, stroking my hair. “we’re going to push the painkillers now, and bring you out of the paralysis.” And with that, I feel the rush and the heady fuzz of opioids entering my system, the relief washing over me like a cool shower on a hot summer day.

“I want you to flex your fingers. Just keep flexing them.”

At first I can’t. I try and I try. But slowly, I start to feel them twitching, and after not too long I feel myself able to make a weak fist.

“Very good. You’re such a good girl.” Before I can say or even think anything, she reaches up, and removes first her cap, and then her hair tie. A shoulder-length crop of raven curls falls out. And then, to my amazement, she reaches up to her ear and removes the mask.

I see her face for the first time. I’m able to take in her sculpted jaw, her chin. She has a beauty spot on her right cheek. Her green eyes fill with warmth and, for the first time, I see her smile. “Let’s get that tube out.” She removes the tape on the tube. “Okay, I need you to take a deep breath. On three, I want you to exhale as hard as you can. One, two, three!” I blow and the tube slides out. I cough quite a bit.

Rather uncharacteristically, she tosses the tube aside. “You did so good today babe.” She comes in close, leaning over me, and our lips meet. Her kiss is so soft, so tender. I’m so lucky to have her. After what might be hours, or maybe no time at all, she pulls away.

Shakily, with a voice that hasn’t seen use in a long time, I say, “Thank you, Teacher.”

#Ivy Michaels Writing

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c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s · 11 months

Text

Bottle service

Alrightly so I’ve been working on a lil something after Nanami last week and the Choso ab reveal this week. So here it is.

Coworker!Choso x reader x coworker!Nanami please let me know if you like it!

NSFW below

You walk up to the bar and set your tray down at the pick up area.

“Ugh the guys at table 5 want bottle service but jeez they’re sooo.. icky” you complain over the bar to Choso. You’d just learned everyone’s names at the club, it only took you 3 weeks. But being a bottle girl meant that you had to work closer with the guys behind the bar and tonight it was Choso and Nanami, the first names you’d learned at your new job. Both of whom are hulking, pretty, and absolutely precious.

“Want me to beat them up for you? I think I can be scary enough” Choso teases, well half teasing, half serious. He leans against the bar on one elbow as he’s opening a few beers and filling your tray with shots.

“Thanks but I need to handle them myself. If anyone touches me I’ll let you know” you smile at him with a feisty smirk. You’re no stranger to handsy men so this should be easy enough to handle. “But definitely keep an eye on them.” You note to the man behind the bar. Nanami walks up and nods at the table you’re serving.

“They giving you trouble?” He’s looking at them with a scowl.

“Yes but Choso here has his instructions” you wink at the men before walking away with the now full tray.

——————

At the end of the night as you sit at the bar figuring out your tips, both of the bar tenders are cleaning up their spaces.

“Woo I did alright tonight” you flash a few 50s and Nanami smirks at you.

“I’m just glad that table left you alone.” He states calmly.

“Were you going to fight for my honor?” You feign a damsel in distress act throwing the back of your hand against your forehead. He chuckles and nods politely.

“Well in that case, do you guys want to come over and hang out at my place? I have beers and snacks. We can vent about this place too.” You offer in mostly an innocent attempt to get on both of their good sides.

“Actually we room together So you can come to our place if you want. It’ll be easier for us.” Choso pipes in.

“Aww but I was trying to treat you for coming to my defense!” You protest.

“Not necessary. It’s part of our job” Nanami states.

“Okay well I can at least provide snacks. Send me your address and I’ll meet you both there after a quick shower?”

They both nod and Choso sends you the address.

—————

You’re knocking on their apartment door. Nanami opens it up and he’s clearly freshly showered and in the most casual outfit you’ve ever seen him in. Not being in your usual heels means both of these men now dwarf you. Not necessarily in height but in width too.

Walking in, Choso is on their couch, beer in hand already. You join him setting the snacks on the table.

“I’m exhausted you guys. Tonight kicked my ass” you plop down in the middle of the couch next to Choso and Nanami is sitting in a chair nearby.

“Same” Choso affirms and swigs his beer before leaning his head back. The tips of his hair, still a little wet from his shower.

5 beers later and your laughing at something Choso said. Nanami gets up and disappears into the bathroom.

Your eyes meet Choso’s for a split second before you both try to avoid the look each party received. Eyes darting away. A chuckle slips through your lips and into the air of unspoken thoughts.

Choso, feeling the tension, leans into kiss you. He knows you’ve been flirting all night with him and his roommate. Maybe that’s just how you are? Maybe he’s reading you all wrong? He decides it’s worth a shot and luckily for him you’re receptive. Pressing your lips together in a soft but heated kiss. Both of you lean in to deepen the kiss. Both forgetting Nanami who could return any second. Lips pressed against each other and heat coursing through your cheeks.

“Jeez you really started without me?” Nanamis voice is deadpan, so much so you know he’s joking. Burying your face into Choso’s neck, you smile.

“Sorry” comes from between Choso’s panting breaths. You sit up and question “jealous?” He nods and sits next to you.

“Wow okay” you’re a little stunned but turn to Choso and he confirms its okay if you want them both. So you turn to Nanami and cup his cheek bringing him in for the softest kiss. Feeling the slight stubble on his jaw as you rub your fingers over the smooth skin. Choso’s hand rests on your thigh, index finger making small circles on your skin. Slowly making his way up your leg and teasing you just under your shorts.

With every inch Choso slides up your legs, you moan and pant into the kisses being the placed on Nanamis lips. His tongue tangling with yours and his hands pushing into your hair. Gathering it up softly as he grunts into the needy kiss as well.

Chosos fingers teasingly play at the edge of your panties and the two men set you on fire. Fuck this is really happening- all you can think about is this. The all consuming desire to be taken by both of these men.

Sighing into Nanamis mouth you break away and he starts kissing your neck. Choso pulls you into his lap and lets his fingers under the fabric hiding your wet cunt. Your back presses against his chest and you turn to kiss him.

One hand tangles in his hair and the other wanders to Nanamis lap. You cup the bulge and rub at his erection. Gaining confidence he pulls up your shirt and sucks your nipples through the soft cotton of your bra. And you pant hard into Choso’s kisses. Biting his bottom lip and fisting his hair.

“Fuck” is all you can think to say when you break the kiss.

“Gonna let us play angel?” Choso asks you while toying with your slick folds and nipping at your ear. His warm breath sending chills over your body.

“Y-yes” you manage to speak. Clearing your thoughts you follow up with “I’ve never had a full on threesome. Will you guys show me what to do?” Nanami pulls off your breast with a pop and kisses your cheek.

“Of course” he confirms.

“My room then?” Choso looks to you for confirmation and you nod pulling on Nanamis hand for him to join too.

“Are you both alright with this?” You ask shyly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time” Nanami confirms your suspicion. They’re too coordinated at this for it to be a first.

“Oh alright then” you say from the safety of Choso’s arms. He’s carrying you to the bed and sits down placing you in the same position you were in on the couch. Your back to his chest. His hands run down your front, teasing you. “I’m good with it” Choso whispers in your ear before biting your neck.

A heat spreads over you, making your neck and chest blush. Nanami steps in front of you and your hands drift to his hips. You simultaneously place your lips on Nanamis erection and press your ass back on Choso. Both of them are sizeable and hard. Fuck they’re so hard already. Wetness pools from you onto Choso’s fingers. Both of them are already making sounds of pleasure.

Waiting has never been your forte so you pull down Nanamis sweats and boxers. Letting his dick from the cotton fabric of his pants you begin placing small teasing kisses to the tip. He groans and collects your hair while you start licking up his shaft. Working up to taking him in your mouth.

Choso ruts against you and pulls down your bottoms. Removing his shirt and letting his erection free as well. Feeling him against your skin makes you moan around the dick now fully in your mouth.

“Please Choso i want-“

He chuckles “don’t worry, I know what you want” his large hands push up the hem of your shirt and runs his hands down your sides. Letting every curve and dip be appreciated with his fingertips. He runs himself through your folds and pushes into you. Slowly you sit down on him, being led by his big hands on your hips. Your hand squeezes Nanamis dick and you absent mindedly spread your spit up and down his length with your hand. Following your lips from tip to base.

Feeling Choso between your thighs was heaven and it only made you want more. Relishing in the heat pooling in your tummy Choso guides your hips up and down. Gliding one hand to your clit he uses your slick to circle the bud.

Nanami fists your hair and uses it to guide your lips and tongue on his dick. “That’s it princess” he throws his head back and you’re being thrust between the two men. Who knew your coworkers could be so nasty? You already knew they were sweet but this combo was so fucking good. The nasty way they were fucking you with the sweet things they said made you wetter than before.

“Fuckk” Choso groans as his hands grip your hips bruisingly hard “princess is right”

Moaning on the cock in your mouth you feel Nanamis hand cup your chin and pull you off. “I’m not quite ready to be finished yet so let’s focus on you hmm?”

He pushes Choso back on the bed and then you on top. Stepping between both sets of legs he puts his lips to your nipples. Sucking and licking every part he can get his mouth near. All the stimulation finally catching up to you, you clench on Choso’s dick. Orgasming fully, your legs try to close around Nanamis waist. Catching your knees in his hands he soothes your shaking thighs. Relaxing into the touch, your whole body melts into Choso’s.

“Can you take us both?” Choso asks in your ear.

“I’ve never-“ heat washes over you cheeks with embarrassment . “We can try though”

You reposition yourself and face Choso. Your breasts press skin to skin on his chest as he pulls you in for a searing kiss. Your body gushes around his dick and you moan into his mouth. Tongues clashing in passion.

“Can you take us both in the same place? One hole baby, I know you can” Nanami encourages you as he places kisses to your back and neck.

“Y-yeah” you stutter out.

“Good girl” Choso praises you as his hips still. Fully pushed inside you, you’re already stretched out but Nanami starts adjusting and pushing the rim of your entrance. Slowly he starts squeezing inside your cunt. Both men rubbing against each other and being fully sucked in by your body.

Pants and moans spill from your lips. The stretch making you fully stupid. These gorgeous men will take good care of you now and later you know. One dick slips out of you as they find their rhythm. Pushing it back in you grip Choso’s shoulders. He’s kissing your lips and neck. “You okay gorgeous?” He checks in with you. “Feel good?”

All you can do is wimper as a tear escapes your eye. “Mmhmm” you breathlessly confirm.

You kiss at Choso’s neck and chest. Pressed firmly between the two, Nanamis hand reaches past you as he threads his fingers through the dark strands flowing over the bed. Choso let’s put a soft whine and grasps on to your hips, pushing in all the way to the hilt.

Nanami stands up and starts to rubs circles into your lower back as he sets a decent pace, fucking you in and out. Bringing all 3 of you closer to a release.

Choso brings your lips in for a kiss, gripping both sides of your head with his big warm hands. You become just a moaning mess of a person between the 2 guys fucking into you. Heat spreads through your body and your fingers dig into Choso’s shoulders. Your release comes swift and your legs shake. Your shoulders and body curl into Choso.

Nanami pulls out and finishes on your back and ass. Panting, he grabs a wet cloth to clean you up. Choso slows his thrusts to a halt and holds you.

The warm cloth being pressed on your back is so tender it makes a few tears spill from your eyes. Your hands thread through Choso’s hair as you wimper.

“Fuck Nanamin please C’mere” you say as you’re sitting up and you pull him in for a deep kiss. Your hips move on Choso who’s still inside you. His hands on your hips guiding you and your lips chasing Nanamis kisses.

“Gonna come angel” Choso breaths out and your hands grip his chest. He rubs a thumb over your clit, vying for one last orgasm. Nanami plays with your nipples and kisses you deeply. Fingers running through your hair and gripping at the base of your nape. Pinching your soft buds eliciting moans from you that are muffled by his mouth.

Your fists clenched on Choso’s skin leaving small scratch marks across his chest. All of the attention brings you closer to the edge again. Choso is relentless against your clit and he’s pushing himself in and out of you.

Breathing in deep as Nanami releases you from the kiss you’ve been locked in, you crumple into Choso’s arms. He wraps his arms around you and fucks you into oblivion, In and out until you both know you won’t walk right tomorrow. Hips slamming together until you are both coming. His cum filling you up and yours coating his dick.

Panting he cuddles you and brings you both to your side. “Jesus fucking Christ” you say through strained breaths.

“Yeah” Choso agrees.

Nanami walks in the room, you hadn’t realized he left. He’s holding waters and setting them down for you on the night stand.

Laying down on your other side, Nanami squishes you between both of them. Neither of them let go of you, Caressing your side and back.

You lean in kissing Choso and then turn to kiss Nanami as well.

“Well fuck” is all you can say.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #jjk choso #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #choso nation #jujutsu choso #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #choso x you #nanami x reader

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miss-celestia13 · 1 year

Text

Mastermind

Jake x MC Silly Fluffy One Shot

Words: 4.3k

Inspired by old memes! I've added one to the end.

Jake has planned their trip to IKEA down to the last second. He forgot to account for MC and her ability to turn a simple shopping trip into a day-long adventure. He's a mastermind, but he might have met his match.

Thank you so much to the lovely @julesisreading for all her help and insights with IKEA and the things that could happen to Jake there 🤭 I have only been once or twice myself and needed some help with it. Anything that is wrong, call it artistic liberty and I have no budget to stick to when writing, so I can do what I want🤣❤️

Jake

He was armed to the teeth. Nothing could surprise him or knock him off track. The map was crystal in his mind, and he was confident every challenge, problem, and panic attack had been accounted for and neutralized before they could infringe upon his ability to complete this mission. It was one he took seriously and would accept nothing but success. They’d eaten a decent breakfast, and he packed bottles of water and snacks in case she got hungry. All avenues had been considered. He knew every entrance and exit and mapped out multiple escape routes for every turn and pitfall they might fall into. He was ready. He was prepared. Or so he thought. He’d forgotten to account for the human elements, and a sinking sensation in his stomach already warned him all might not be well.

Jake eyed the mammoth building with a gimlet eye and smothered his groan as they approached the entrance. They were about to face the most arduous struggle many couples grapple with… a trip to IKEA. The challenge? Walk in, get what they need, and walk back out without breaking up. He was confident he could hold his own and not give in to the pressures being faced with so many options could place on a person. A strange notion swept over him as the automatic doors parted to allow them inside. Should he be laying a trail of breadcrumbs to ensure they found their way out? He was almost intimidated by the size of the place and doubted his own ability to remember everything he’d planned. The woman beside him insisted on pushing the cart so he could grab things she pointed at, and there was a distinct frenetic energy around her small form that made her bounce as she walked.

The list he created the night before was on his phone, and he knew exactly where everything was to the last inch. Reassured by the website that all was in stock, he warned her on the way there that they would not be distracted by anything shiny and they would avoid the food hall. He couldn’t remember if she actually agreed to his terms or if she made him forget them by using her feminine ways to distract him. If she had, he knew he enjoyed every moment of it and wouldn’t hold it against her. She laughed at his intense research, but he was determined to make it out alive and mostly intact. He felt more like he was gearing up for a fight than furniture shopping, and her delighted squeal as they approached the pile of reusable blue and yellow bags only solidified that feeling. She was grabbing one after another and smiling as she turned to him.

“Do you think four will suffice?”

He opened his mouth to affirm, but she shook her head and muttered, “No, better get a few more just in case. I think… yep! Seven will do!”

“We don’t need that much...” He said as she bounced back to his side and tossed the bags in the cart.

“We might see something we didn’t know we needed, Jake!” She laughed, eyes alight with mischief as they ambled into the market hall.

A subtle but noticeable scent hung in the air: sawdust, maybe something with cinnamon, and a bunch of other things he didn’t have a name for hit him as they walked in, and it was pleasant, but he did not trust it. He knew it was only there to lure one in, get them lost, and keep them trapped inside this horror store forever. His credit card burned a hole in his pocket as she approached a row of finger-smeared computers and began pointlessly searching for all they needed. He stifled a chuckle as the first two she tried would not work, and she growled at the screen, huffed, and glared at him when his worked on the first try. His touch screen was faulty, though, and when it failed to show him where he could find the coffee table she so desperately wanted, he sighed through his nose and prayed this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

“Come on, Hackerman, we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way!” She chirped, guiding the cart away and over to a display of kitchen utensils.

“I have everything we need marked down. We just have to go there, and...we don’t need a lemon juicer.” He arched a brow as she demonstrated how to use it and winked at him.

“You never know! It’s only -”

“Yeah, it’s only $2.49. That’s how they get you.” He said, and she scoffed but put it down after remembering she didn’t like lemons.

There were too many shiny, cheap, and silly things to grab her attention. Like a magpie, anything that glittered under the fluorescent lights caught her eye. She flitted from shelf to shelf like some demented fairy while he watched on and felt his hope of getting out before dark dwindle and drain away to nothing. They successfully found both the nightstands and dresser, but as he failed to find the shelves she specified, his frown deepened, and he pulled out his phone to double-check the website. It said they had it, but he stood before the empty space where his shelves should be and wanted to beat his head off a wall. Rechecking the site, he didn’t notice her approaching and jumped a foot in the air as her bright voice cut through the angry murmurs in his head.

“We can just choose another set. It’s fine. The ones down there look alright.”

“If it isn’t in stock, the website shouldn’t say it is! It should be here, where it’s stupid tag is. Or what’s the point in it?” He grumbled, glaring at the empty space one last time before following her as she skipped to another set that fit their budget.

She grinned as she pointed at it and posed like a hostess on an old game show.

“See, it’ll do. Crisis averted. I bet if you checked the website it would be out of stock! Help me get it in the cart!” She demanded with a cheeky grin. He couldn’t help but return it as he did as she asked.

The other shoppers reminded him of those old zombie movies. Glazed eyes and faces frozen in thinly veiled discontent as they blindly tossed mass-produced artwork and lampshades into their carts. Somehow, the millionth print of a black squiggle was something many felt completed the décor of their homes. He didn’t understand it and was glad when his overexcited partner completely bypassed that section to drag him to another display, making him want to dig in his heels to avoid it. His eyes could barely keep track she moved so fast, just a blur of hair and freckles jumping from aisle to aisle. Bedding, shower curtains, and decorative pillows somehow made it into their cart, and he could sense his finely tuned plans falling apart like wet paper under his hands. This was his Great War. He’d brought a knife to a gunfight and lost the battle before they’d arrived.

He kept his mouth shut until she let out a thrilled noise and made a beeline for the mirrors.

“The stuff we need is over there. It says there's only one in stock. We need to hurry.” He tried as she waved a hand at him and examined the many mirrors.

He could see himself glowering as she paced along the aisle, a finger tapping her chin. And practically heard the cogs turning in her head as she pondered how to convince him they needed another mirror to give the illusion of space.

“I think another won’t go amiss, that one!” She clapped her hands and gestured toward one that would require another cart.

“We can order it online once we know we have space for it.” He smiled, and hoped it looked genuine.

“Have you seen the delivery charge?! It’s more than the mirror. I’ll grab another cart while you get the things on your list. I know you can find me anyway.” She teased, making him bark a shocked laugh, but he couldn’t deny it.

“Fine, but we’ll meet back here in an hour, deal?” He held out his pinky as she sidled closer and looked up at him through a fan of dark lashes.

She hooked her pinky around his and shook, “Deal. Now, off you go! Let me have my fun.” She sang and left him blinking after her. Gods, he loved her.

He knew it was futile, but he clung to his plan and moved away to track down what they needed. The store wifi kept dipping out as he walked deeper into the maze of shelves and displays, getting turned around and making the same journey twice to find his way out. It didn’t feel like a win whenever he found something they needed. It felt like a payment that cost him blood and tears. His nerves were frayed, and his skin felt too tight as he tried and failed to double-check their stock. Again, it said everything was available, but as he came across yet another empty shelf, he wanted to throw his phone away in frustration. He had half a mind to update the stock counts online himself after this shit show, and he just might make that his new mission if he couldn’t get what they needed.

“There are three in stock. Where? Why... where the hell are they?” He was whispering as he crouched to check underneath, and seeing nothing, he straightened and looked around for an employee.

It took a few more minutes before he tracked down a worker bearing the store’s famous coloring and swallowed his anxiety to question him.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, your website says these are in stock, but there are none. Do you have any?”

The man sighed heavily, glanced at Jake’s phone, and shook his head, “I don’t think so. If none are on the shelves, you’ll have to try online or at another store.”

Jake bit down on his disgruntled groan and asked the question he knew all retail workers despised, but he had to be sure. He couldn’t give up yet.

“Could you maybe check in the back? I hate to ask, but my girlfriend-”

The man’s face morphed into an expression of supreme understanding, “Ahh, sure, man. I’ll do it. Wait here.”

Jake clung to his fading hopes as the minutes ticked away and other shoppers moved around his still form. It couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Jake before the employee strode for him empty-handed.

“Sorry, man. We haven’t got any in. We’ll get more soon and can email you once it’s here?” He offered, but Jake shook his head.

“No, we’ll pick something else. Thank you, though.”

That sinking sensation spiraled lower in his gut as he eyed the available units and chose the one most similar to what she wanted. Soon, the hour was up, and he returned to the agreed meeting spot. She wasn’t there. Of course, she wasn’t. His phone signal was better there, and the wifi worked, so he pulled up his tracker and waited for it to find her. She was on the opposite side of the gigantic building and was moving farther away as he cursed and hurried to chase her down. Half-dazed shoppers jumped out of his way as he vaulted down aisles, and the cart almost went sideways as he took every corner at a run. The rattling of the boxes and items against their metal chariot drowned out the beat of his heart as he rounded another corner and saw her. Her arms were full of assorted office supplies and décor, which she dumped in her overflowing cart that also contained a multitude of items they didn’t have on his list.

She spied him and grinned, waving him over, and he approached with an almost nervous air as she explained her thoughts.

“You have an office to fill, and I think these will work perfectly. I also saw some little work lamps, but I thought you’d like to choose that. Ooh! We should have lunch! Meatballs! I’m starving, and we haven’t eaten since this morning.”

He didn’t know where to start with that, and he knew no matter what he said, it wouldn’t sink in while she was surrounded by the sights and smells of everything she wanted.

“I have some snacks with me; we can eat those and just get everything done so we can leave.”

“But... meatballs, Jake! And cake, I can’t pronounce the cake’s name, but you have to try it! Do you want a tiny lamp? Or an even tinier fake cactus? They’re quite cute.”

“We can make meatballs at home...”

Her hands were on her hips as she pinned him with an unimpressed stare, “It’s. Not. The. Same.”

Sighing, his lips twitched with the urge to laugh at her adorable face, but he tamped it down as he replied, “We’re already behind schedule, and you wanted to get some of this built before everyone comes over tomorrow.”

She didn't respond but nodded as she turned and walked over to her cart. He was not distracted by the many pens, notepads, and stationery holders. No, he wasn’t. And he certainly didn’t toss a few packs in with his half of their shopping when she wasn’t looking. He wasn’t as sly as he thought, and her arched brow when she saw him covering the pens with a pillow told him she missed nothing when it came to him. As the checkout came into view, his chest loosened, and victory hovered at the edges of his mind as they were quickly rung up and charged a small fortune. He felt safe to internally celebrate making it out alive as they headed for the exit. But she uttered some words that delayed it instantly.

“I need the bathroom! I’ll meet you at the car.”

“I can wait for you here?” He offered.

“No, it’s fine. I know where you parked.”

Seeing no way to argue, and he was blocking the exit, he nodded and took control of her cart along with his. It was risky business navigating the busy parking lot, and he was sweating by the time he reached his. He opened the large trunk and methodically began to pack everything inside, using the backseats for everything that didn’t fit in the trunk. Silently, Jake swore he would never again darken the Swedish megastore’s doorstep. It would be a cold day in hell before he subjected himself to that place again. He was returning the empty carts to the store when his phone buzzed. He waited until his hands were free to check it and didn’t know whether to bemoan her tenacity or delight in it.

MC: I’ve got your meatballs and kladdkaka! Come get them before I finish mine and eat yours.

His traitorous stomach rumbled as he read, and the smile flirting with the corners of his mouth soon overtook his face. He couldn’t complain; they finished shopping and had nowhere else to be. She was only playing by his rules and twisting them to get him out of his rigidness. And he was hungry... pocketing his phone with an exasperated curse, Jake once more entered the hell of IKEA and set off to find the insistent woman who held his heart of glass in her steady hands. The food hall teemed with frazzled shoppers, overexcited kids, and elderly folks who eyed the mayhem with narrowed eyes. He scanned the bustling tables for a familiar head of hair and spotted her off in the back corner, dancing as she ate. As he rounded the table, he saw his own plate waiting for him and plopped into the hard chair across from her as she forked up the last piece of her cake and stuffed it in her mouth. He found it oddly endearing that she always ate her dessert first in places like this.

“You found me! That’s your reward.” She chuckled and pointed at the food on his side after she cleared her mouth with a sip of cold water.

“Mmhmm.” Was all he said as he tucked into his fast-cooling meal and caught her staring at his slice of cake.

He didn’t get the hype, but the meatballs were edible, and the mashed potatoes were silky smooth with no hidden horrible lumps, so he was happy to munch away. She did the same and kept dancing with every mouthful she took, though her eyes would stick to his dessert every now and again. They chatted between bites, and he wondered if she realized just how deep a hold she had on him, how far he’d go to see her smile like she was then. He didn’t think so and thought it was part of her charm. She could make a trip to the DMV an adventure, and he admired her warm, romantic view of the world despite his learned knowledge that it was often cold, hurtful, and dark. Her ability to make him feel the same way was a form of magic he’d never heard anyone discuss, but he thought it should be treasured more than the big things. The mundane made up the majority of their daily lives. It was a special kind of magic and person that could make even the dull seem extraordinary.

The freckles on her nose scrunched up as she caught him watching her, and he ducked his head to hide his grin as a blush sparked in her cheeks. He was content to observe her squirm and pretend she didn’t want to ask him for his slice. Pulling it towards him after he finished the bland meatballs, he used his fork to cut off a small piece. She was barely breathing and leaning closer, eyes locked on his hands. He popped it in his mouth, ignoring the rush of saliva as the flavor exploded on his tongue to push the rest of it over to her. Her eyes lit up, a coy smile on her pretty mouth as she tried to be considerate despite the feral nature of her love of all things sweet.

“Are you sure? We can split it?” She said even as she shoveled it into her mouth, and he couldn’t help but laugh at her when she looked confused at her now empty plate.

“I think it’s too late for that,” he joked before going on, “Do you want more? We can get more.”

She considered it, and he was getting ready to do it when she shook her head and said, “No, if we buy more, I’ll eat it all before we get home and feel sick all night. We should go before I forget that!”

He knew it was true and let her lead the way to the car, her swinging gaze catching on every table until they were on the way downstairs and approaching the double doors to freedom. They were soon back in the car, stomachs full and warmed through as he pulled out of his spot and followed the traffic to the main road. The journey home was short, filled with her singing along to whatever radio station she found and asking him questions he thought she might already know the answers to but just wanted to hear his voice. Still rusty from years of disuse, his answers sometimes meandered off the correct path, but she hung on his every word like he was revealing the secrets of the universe. And it never stopped. No matter where they were, if he spoke, she focused intently on him until he was done. It was oddly heartwarming and touching. He hoped he made her feel the same way whenever she was telling one of her stories that had a thousand offshoots and side quests. Their home soon came into view, and the last vestiges of stress fluttered away as he parked on their driveway.

The truth was, they didn’t need anything they bought today. But her only condition for him moving in was that they make it feel like his place, too, and it must look like he lived there. She wanted him to put his mark on their home so he knew he could always find safety there. He’d been happy to move in and use her things, used to having nothing, and everything he did have could fit inside a backpack. Material goods didn’t really matter to him, but it wasn’t the furniture she cared about. She wanted him to feel like he counted, and he needed to have a hand in how their home came together. His mind buzzed as they swiftly unloaded the car and carried everything inside. It didn’t take too long before they were seated on the couch with mugs of hot coffee as they studied the many boxes they’d have to assemble.

As soon as he’d downed the last of his drink, she slapped her hands to her thighs and declared, “I’ll build the coffee table if you can handle your desk! Then we’ll just build them one by one.”

Jake agreed, and they got down on the carpet to begin. She tore at the packaging, practically gnawing on it like a squirrel to get the tape off as he found a packing knife and unsealed it neatly. Her brute force approach worked well for building the furniture. He was still setting all his pieces out in order of use before he picked up the first piece of wood he had to join with another while she was battering in the last leg of the table. Music played quietly as they worked, and she lit some scented candles when night drew in, turning on the lights once it was too dark to see. His frustration mounted as the last piece refused to slide in, making a queer rattling noise when he tried to force it. She was halfway through a nightstand when she noticed and came over to see if she could help.

“You know, when it doesn’t fit right, I just… make it fit.”

Jake snorted, “I’ve tried that. It doesn’t want to catch the slider.”

“Want me to hit it?” She asked with a wicked grin.

“No, I think that’ll make it worse.”

“Okay, let me know! I have some rage I’d like to get out.” She said as she crawled back to her side.

He couldn’t help the silly chuckle that slipped free of his clenched teeth as the drawer finally gave into his pressuring shove, and his frustration bled away as it smoothly rolled open again at his urging.

“What rage do you have?” He wondered aloud as she slammed her fist down on the top of the nightstand to test its strength. She was more akin to a hissing kitten when mad. It was difficult to imagine her acting truly angry.

“Stupid things. Marge next door telling me not to feed the birds. Janet at work, who keeps forgetting what days I work, and the man in Starbucks who always misspells my name!”

He was grateful her grievances were so frivolous and hoped they always remained so. She should never know how it felt to be completely alone and lost in the world. Whatever life handed him, even the good parts were often accompanied by soul-destroying despair. Even now, he was the happiest he’d ever been, free of his self-made chains and financially secure. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and often was paranoid that it hadn’t. He’d do everything in his power to ensure she never knew such darkness. If she ever lost that glint in her eye and the rose-colored glasses that made her world seem so gentle and lovely, he would never forgive himself. All he wanted was peace and happiness for her and for him. He knew life came with dips and often destruction, but he would feel complete if he could make this house their private little oasis from the world. The place they could retreat to and rebuild from the rubble whenever life’s hammer fist crushed them.

Long into the night, they playfully bickered and talked as they put together their new joint life and saved the rest for another day when their eyes turned gritty, and their yawns lasted longer than their conversation. Her soft hands were the sweetest medication as she ruffled his hair and suggested they got ready for bed. Side by side in the bathroom, they brushed their teeth and washed their faces, changing out of their clothes and putting on something lighter to sleep in. He knew his way around the house blind, and they didn’t turn on any lights as they entered their bedroom and crawled into bed. He curled around her body, his arm wrapping around her waist as she snuggled closer and hummed contentedly. Her soft breathing deepened, and he assumed she’d fallen asleep until her fatigue-roughened voice broke the silence.

“IKEA wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He huffed a laugh, kissing the crown of her head before answering, “It wasn’t too terrible. But will you promise me something?”

There was a smile in her voice as she said, “Sure, anything for you.”

“Next time, we order online, and I’ll make you an entire chocolate cake you can eat by yourself.”

There was a pause, a giggle, and finally, “Okay. Deal. I promise. I’ll even let you have a small sliver of cake.”

“Deal.” He said and closed his eyes on the long day, certain in knowing he had many more good days ahead of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! And if you reblog or comment, thank you for that too. It was a daft idea I had that wouldn’t leave me alone to write other things🤭 I hope you enjoyed it!

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utilitycaster · 1 year

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So. I finally watched last Thursday`s episode. If youd rather just tell me to go look it up myself, I totally get it, but I dont get the Big Deal with Orym supposedly Going Dark?? Like. He is right. They ARE at war and its time that they put aside the Are the Prime Deities Good (they are, we as an audience have canonical proof of it through 2 main campaigns and Calamity) debate and get behind Ashton`s `The Ruby Vanguard is willing to kill anyone, and thats too dangerous to allow` mindset.

Hey anon!

So I can't speak for people who are saying this, since naturally I disagree, but my suspicions are that it's largely coming from people who were hoping for the campaign to more explicitly affirm their personal politics or ideals and are upset that a heroic fantasy D&D show set in a world with very different norms...continues to be set there, and the characters and stories carry out those norms. It's always been a problem, that some people do not like to acknowledge how different Exandria is from 21st century Earth not just in like, there's elves and magic, but in social mores, and this was a jarring reminder to them.

But I agree that this is Orym affirming Ashton's mindset. I also agree that while we have canonical proof from past works, it's best to craft an argument that doesn't rest of that. It does not matter that we know the prime deities' alignments or how they've acted towards past PCs or more generally whether you do or do not like the idea of a world with gods in it. You have one group who is preying on desperate people to the point that one of those people, when confronted but not injured by people who made him feel like he belonged, nearly killed one of them, and who has murdered and destroyed the minds of anyone in their way; and you have a group that is trying to stop them. Orym is just affirming that he is, absolutely part of the group trying to stop them.

Someone asked me last week what the point of the split was, and I said we couldn't really tell until it was over, but I think it served to show the human side of what had been this grand, overwhelming plan, and what the work might be, if Bells Hells can successfully stop them.

Team Wildemount did see more of the macro level - the destruction of Molaesmyr, the gods calling upon FCG and Deanna - but they also saw the survivors of Molaesmyr in Uthodurn, still morning the destruction of their home almost 300 years ago. We saw Umudara, who can't go home. We saw the infrastructure of Uthodurn break as enchantments failed. We saw clerics and followers of gods feeling terrified and lost. We saw people who were absolutely not involved in pain because of Ludinus and the Vanguard's actions.

Team Issylra, meanwhile, saw what kind of people might be drawn into the Vanguard and Ludinus's words - people dealing with oppression in the name of the gods, and people who have suffered faith-shattering tragedies. I think it's an important element of the story, since we've mostly dealt with high-level people (Otohan, Ludinus, Liliana) and only had a few tussles at the Malleus Key.

Essentially, this all served to say "gods aside, Ludinus, as head and founder of the Ruby Vanguard, is exploiting the oppressed instead of freeing them." Because do you know what would have happened had Hearthdell attacked Kiro on their own? This would have been a bloodbath, and a village would be wiped off the map, because some asshole with a magic microphone is entirely happy to use them up and discard them. What if Bor'Dor hadn't been recruited? What if he just got teleported as just a con man in the Cyrios Mountains, and he came across the party? Ludinus never actually stopped wearing that magic funnel, he just changed the methodology.

I think, similarly, the moment with the locket isn't "I shall become a killing machine." Remember how Ashton said the guy with the locket probably didn't have a family anymore? Orym is, in fact, in my opinion, looking at that, and at Bor'Dor, and saying "I'm not going to become this, despite my own losses and grief, and I'm going to stop it from happening to more people, and the path to that might be difficult and require some actions I wish I didn't have to do but which must be done." And I think Hearthdell shows that there will be work to be done if they stop Ludinus; that the next step is to make sure that worshipers of the gods truly do leave other people alone to live their lives in the places where they're genuinely overstepping and engaging in oppression.

My final thought is that there was a lot of discussion during these arcs that there be someone more unambiguously in favor of the gods, and with all of the above, I think that it worked out beautifully that there wasn't, and that we can stop focusing on the gods and start focusing on the people.

#answered #Anonymous #critical role

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 15 days

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🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

Eddie time! 129 for 🧟:

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Eddie quickly learns that, though there are many similarities between Maddie and her little brother, there is one considerable difference. At least when it comes to long drives. Maddie and Buck are both kind and brave and gentle. Lionhearted type people, to be sure. They’re both well-spoken and intelligent. Friendly. Except, whereas Maddie was perfectly fine letting long stretches of time pass in relative silence, Buck cannot seem to accomplish this. He likes to talk. A lot.

It’s not that Eddie has a problem with chatty people. He doesn’t. Shannon was really chatty, back when they got along. Eddie tends to not know how to fill silences, even when he should, with anyone but his son. So having someone who seems to be very adept at it is generally a good thing. And really, it would be. Eddie might appreciate it, any other day. Just today? So soon after leaving his kid and so close to finding or not finding Shannon? Today, Eddie just doesn’t have the necessary social energy or focus to respond properly. And it’s making him feel sort of rude.

“I haven’t been to Los Angeles since I moved back here from Peru,” Buck starts their drive by explaining.

“Peru?” Eddie blinks, confused. He’s only half-listening.

“Yes!” Buck explains. “I spent half a year working at a resort in Peru. Like an all-inclusive. Mostly attracted college-age party crowds, you know?”

Not really. Eddie had a kid before his nineteenth birthday. The closest to a party vacation he got was the fact that there was a beer festival happening an hour away from the military hospital in Germany where he recovered from being shot.

He doesn’t say this.

“Right,” he mumbles instead.

“So, yeah, anyway, I moved here from Peru, and got the flight from Lima to LAX, and that was literally the last time I was in Los Angeles.” Buck continues with his story. “I always told myself I’d go more but between the fire academy and working and dating, I never did anything touristy.”

“Life sure gets busy,” Eddie mumbles affirmatively.

“Yep! And then the world ends.”

It’s easy to say that. That the world has ended. And in a lot of the ways that matter, it feels like it really has. But maybe the scariest part is that it hasn’t. Not entirely. The scariest part is that there’s just enough left that Eddie and everyone else still alive and not a fucking zombie can’t throw in the towel. There’s way too much to keep fighting for.

“So, what about you, man?” Buck asks.

“Me?” Eddie asks.

“You been to L.A. before or is this gonna be your first time?”

Right. That’s what they’d been talking about. Or, rather, that’s what Buck had been talking about. Sort of.

“Yeah, I’ve been,” Eddie answers. “My Tia… Pepa. She lives… Lived…”

He takes a struggled breath at the thought of referring to any of them in the past tense.

“My Tia and her kids lived out here and my Abuela moved out when I was fifteen or sixteen,” Eddie continues. “We visited.”

Buck graciously skirts over the fact that Eddie has just struggled to mention the family he’s lost.

“Oh, hey, that’s cool,” he says instead. “So you’ve done the touristy stuff?”

“Mhm,” Eddie confirms. “Some of it.”

His lack of elaboration seems to disappoint Buck a little.

Eddie finds that he does not like that muted, disappointed look. It makes him want to scramble to bring his easy smile back. Shoot. Now is not the time for a crush. Not that there ever has been a good time for it. Slowing down and letting himself feel anything would confirm what Eddie’s quite sure he already knows. What he has probably always known, on some level.

He’s gay.

He’s gay and he’s searching for his estranged wife with the very handsome, very talkative brother of the woman he’s entrusted his son to.

Yeah, not a good time for a crush. Like, at all.

And yet he finds himself talking to mollify Buck anyway.

“I liked Griffith Park and Runyon Canyon,” Eddie says. “I like hiking.”

Buck lights up again. Eddie finds it stupidly endearing.

“I like hiking, too!” He exclaims. This turns into a full story about a hiking trip through the Shenandoah Valley when he lived in Virginia. Seems like this guy has lived everywhere.

Eddie sits back and listens as he talks, eventually finding the raspy, excited lilt of his voice comforting. He finds himself wondering, perhaps stupidly, if in another life, they might be the sort of people who are well-suited for one another. Someone to hike and be active with. Someone to fill his silences.

Eddie blinks the thought away. It’s useless. Right now, he has to focus on the road ahead of him, not the road he never got to take.

▪️▪️▪️

It’s a two hour and twenty minute drive from Sunport to Los Angeles in theory. Eddie thinks. He doesn’t actually know for certain. It’s about two hours from Santa Barbara and he tacked on the twenty minutes. He doesn’t have Google Maps anymore. And he doesn’t know how long it will take to reach Shannon’s last known address in the city. This is all just a fuck ton of guess work, really.

In practice, it takes them longer. They make it past Ventura, driving the same way he and Maddie had come, without an issue. It’s once they’re on a new route towards the city that things start getting complicated.

First, the bridge over the Santa Clara River is out on the 101. Eddie’s not sure how this happened. It has not been long enough for the structure to naturally decay. It looks sort of… Blown up? Like someone intentionally destroyed it. They have to circle back and head northeast until they find another option.

Not long after that, before they even reach Camarillo, there’s a transport truck overturned on the highway. Normally Eddie would just drive on the grass around it, but they’re on a steep hill. One one side of the road, the ground juts out above them. On the other side, it drops off after a guard rail. They’re sort of fucked.

“This is ridiculous,” Eddie complains as they turn back around.

“Haven’t you driven all over?’ Buck asks.

“Just from Texas,” Eddie says.

“So haven’t you seen way worse?” Buck asks. “Maddie says you were attacked by lions.”

Eddie shudders at the memory.

#daisies and briars writes #go and kill go and die fic

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tranzjen · 3 months

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🩷🩵🤍 5 Days Until my Surgery 🤍🩵🩷

(Picture taken September 1, 2022)

I'm very very excited for my surgery (it's my second gender affirming surgery but this one is more significant to me since it'll be top and bottom surgery) and I'm obviously counting the days until it and I thought some people might be interested in my trans journey 🏳️‍⚧️ So see part 6 below the cut.

Part 1 here

Me and my partner got back together and got a place together and we still live in this apartment together 🥰 I also worked at worked at a local amusement park over the summer that had some fun but mostly was horrible due to angry customers that kept misgendering me and kids making fun of me 🙃 But also I'll say I had one of my most euphoric moment when this little girl pointed to her winged eyeliner and said "you're just like me!" Bc I also had winged eyeliner at the time 🥰

(Picture taken June 6th, 2022)

Also, if the last Era was the peak of my egirl era on twitter than this was the fall of my egirl era 📉

I remember reaching 10k followers and thinking "ok I have enough of a following to try to make money off this." It's what a lot of egirls on there did and as I stated above, I hated my job. I thought briefly about streaming and YouTube but I don't really have the personality for streaming and was too self-conscious of my voice to do YouTube. And there were a lot of sex workers on twitter that I knew, followed, and admired. And there was quite the market for trans sexual content. Also I wanted to basically be paid to look pretty all day 🤷‍♀️ So, I made a OnlyFans account and started promoting it.

(Picture taken May 9th, 2022)

And I quickly got shadow banned for it 😂 And frankly, I wasn't really meant for sex work. I'm not really a sexual person. I do enjoy sexual acts but doing them for money killed my drive for it. I made a few hundred dollars but I didn't make enough content for it to keep it up.

Also, the shadow banned revealed how unhealthy my relationship with Twitter was. My self worth would be highly dependent on how well my posts did that day (I was still posting pictures daily). And I was hypercritical of my picture quality and my physical features. And developed a bad habit of comparing myself to girls I considered prettier than me. And with the constant misgendering from work, I was at a big low 🥲

(Picture taken September 17th, 2022)

I remember this was when there was first talk about Elon buying Twitter and I was looking for an alternative and well... ended up here.

(Picture taken June 2nd, 2022)

I remember the idea between this pic was clothes and accessories that weren't explicitly queer but gave queer vibes.

Also talking about queerness, I also participated in a Drag Show! I played a mushroom fairy!

(Picture taken August 13th, 2022)

It was organized by this local queer nonprofit that did a lot in the community and was already a big part of my life but would become a bigger part of my life.

Also this was when I was done with the curly girl method. And I like how my hair looks like this and it's easier 🤷‍♀️

(Picture taken September 4th, 2022)

Also love how often I get used out of this mushroom beret 😁🍄😁 (which is why I have 2 pics with it on this post lol)

Also an update on my love life at this time. I at one point had 4 partners very briefly and was part of a polycule over over 22 people. I remember one of my metamours made a chart showing all the relationships and it was complicated 😅 Also it was mostly online. Like 2 of my partners were long distance relationships.

(Picture taken Oct 2nd, 2022)

Around my 23rd birthday, I decided to do what was best for my mental health and quit twitter. But I had two last pictures because I got them from some followers who bought me things from my Amazon wishlist I made for my birthday.

(Picture taken October 29, 2022)

This one would be useful for the next era. And you can see a small part of my large collection of plushies (which I have a project in mind for 👀)

(Picture taken on November 8th, 2022)

And this was the last picture I posted on Twitter before quitting at 36k followers. I had already stopped posting on it for awhile so you can imagine my surprise when I got a big pink teddy bear 😱 And for all the work I put into that account, I consider this a pretty good prize 🧸💕

I consider Tumblr my last attempt with having a healthy relationship with social media. If this account goes away, I'll probably be done with Social Media 🤷‍♀️ I think I'm getting better at breaking those bad habits I developed on Twitter while still trying to enjoy the art of dressing up and taking selfies. But, I don't know if I'll ever have the drive for it like I did during my twitter days.

With my summer job ending and twitter as a way to make a living out of the window you may be concerned with how I recovered but I got really lucky and I'll go into detail on that tomorrow 😁

#trans journey #trans #girlslikeus #transfem #ok to rb #tranzjen pics #transgender

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crownedtargaryen · 1 year

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cruel summer. - modern!jacaerys

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4 ; Part 5 pairing: modern!jacaerys x modern!stark reader (a/n): this part includes sensitive topics. please, PLEASE read the trigger warnings below. as a SA victim, this is not to romanticize such things. TW: attempted rape, blood, sexual assault rating: NSFW 18+, this chapter holds sensitive. prns: she/her all notes are appreciated. words: 1.7k tag list: @hopelesswritergall @twizzy123 @howyouloveyourdragon @daenerysapologist @fairysluna

It's been a few hours since my encounter with Jacaerys and I'll admit, I've missed those corny jokes. He's annoying at the moment, but I seek his company now. I walk to my brother, Cregan, who prepares dinner for me and my siblings.

"Hey Creg," I start sweetly, seeing him look at me and smirk slightly. He knows I'm about to ask for something, he always knows. I move up next to him and look at the meal he's preparing. "Looks good!" "Stop tryna' sweet talk me, what's up?" Cregan says, cocking a brow at me. I feel anxious, knowing he might say no.

"You know Jacaerys Velaryon…" I start, seeing his expression contort into something I can't place. He nods in response, increasing my anxiety. "Could I have his number?"

He pauses for a moment, considering, then sighs heavily. "Why? You don't like him, do you?" He takes the food off the stove, leaning his side against the counter and crossing his arms. "You've gotta be careful about guys like that. I know him better than anyone. He has girls flocking to him by the second. He'll play you like a pawn in some filthy game. I don't want that for you." He grabs his phone despite his words, letting me consider as he finds Jace's contact. Cregan and Jace are close friends from being on the hockey team together, so I trust his judgment. Being co-captains develops a bond that might let you discover some darker sides of each other.

"Trust me, I have no interest in him. It has to do with tutoring," I lied through my teeth, smiling uncomfortably. Now, it was a half-truth! I don't have an interest, but I also want to get closer. It has nothing to do with tutoring him since he won't give me the chance to teach him a damn thing. Cretan examines my expression before handing me his phone with Jace's contact open. I can't help but smile at the contact photo.

It was when Jace let his hair grow out, his curled hair down his shoulders. He posed all pretty with his leg up and batting his eyes with his jersey on. I quickly enter the contact and hand Cregan back his phone, moving over and giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Creg. It means a lot. You're the best!" I affirm, patting his shoulder as he rolls his eyes and chuckles. I scramble off, entering my bedroom and texting Jace.

(Y/N): hey it's (Y/N)! I was wondering if you were still up for a hangout? :)

I was shocked by the response time. My phone vibrates in a matter of minutes.

Jacaerys 😐: Yeah. I have a party I was invited to. Sound good?

(Y/N): who's gonna be there?

Jacaerys 😐: Idfk it's a high school party, do you really expect me to know everyone who's showing up?

Well damn, okay asshole.

(Y/N): yes, I do. I expect a list of first names, last names, parents' phone numbers, and their ages before you pick me up 🤨

Jacaerys 😐: Are you going or not.

(Y/N): what time?

I try to figure out when we'll be heading out, mostly because I want to look presentable. Maybe I'll find someone at the party who is interested in me, who knows? He told me he could pick me up in an hour or so. The sun has already set, so I can only assume we'll be out for a while. I text him the okay and get myself ready for a night that changed my whole perspective on Jacaerys Velaryon.

He pulls up across the street in my neighbor's parking lot, not wanting to seem obvious. I'd never snuck out before, nor planned to. Surely my brother wouldn't mind, he parties all the time! But maybe he'd be hesitant to let me spend time with his best friend. He almost didn't give me his number. I could only imagine how he'd react if I told him I was actively seeking to hang out with him.

Without a second thought, I slip out of my window, closing it and glancing at Cregan's window. The light is off, I can only assume he called it a night early. I rush across the street, trying to keep my head ducked in case he looks out his window and sees me. I quickly open the car door, slip into the passenger side, and slam the door. Jace looks at me in surprise for a moment before bursting into laughter at my anxiety.

"Jeez, you're terrible at this!" He playfully nudged me, causing me to roll my eyes as he pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the party. I check my phone, my leg bouncing as I fumble loosely with my shirt. I feel his eyes glancing at me, worsening my frustrations. "You look beautiful," he suddenly says. I look at him, my brows furrowed. Looking ahead, he has a cheeky grin on his face. "I mean, seriously. You'll have guys all over you."

"Speaking from what you wanna do?" I suddenly say, trying to distract myself from my overwhelming fear that Cregan will message me at any moment. I notice his hesitance to answer and the growing color on his cheeks that I can barely see in the limited light. "Maybe? So what?" He replied, making me laugh. I didn't take him seriously. I know he wouldn't want that. Would he? I sigh heavily and comfortable silence falls over us. Jace turns on a song to fill the quiet space.

We park on the side of the street, music muffled from behind closed windows and doors. It's a Lannister party. I look up at the looming building. I swear it's four floors high. Jace gently takes my hand and walks me inside, obviously impatient and ready to have fun. A few people cheer as Jace walks in. He laughs and greets them, letting go of my hand and leaving me alone. I can't help but feel disappointed watching him talk to different girls and his friends. I sigh and head to the drink table, downing two shots.

"Woah there, Tiger, watch yourself," a voice calls out, revealing Aegon Targaryen. I hadn't interacted with him since middle school when he was head over heels for me. He'd cheated on me, but I hadn't held a grudge. It was middle school. We were all imbeciles unaware of romance. He seems to be getting there, his words only slightly slurred as he smiles flirtatiously at me. I return the smile, except it's awkward. He doesn't seem to notice, offering me a drink which I take. "Aegon! How've you been?" I ask, trying to make a polite conversation. He sighs heavily, brows raised, then chugging his drink with a small laugh. That told me everything, and I felt pity for him. His home life has always been challenging, so I give him the benefit of the doubt in most situations.

I feel myself growing tipsy as Aegon continues idle chitchat. Mostly conversed about life and relationships, and even asked me if I'm interested in smoking some weed with him. I politely decline, scanning the crowd for Jace. The more I drink, the more I feel myself becoming scatterbrained and drunk, and the faces of those around me look all the same. The blaring music triggers a headache and I continue to drink.

Then, before I know it, Aegon has his hand in mine and says words I can't understand. I giggle at him, assuming he said something playful. Then, his hands are on my waist and pulling me close. I grow uncomfortable as he grinds his hips to mine. I push him away a little, but he grows aggressive and starts gripping me tighter. He whispers words that will stick with me forever.

"You love me, admit it. There's nothing I want more than you. You're mine tonight."

I feel sick, tears coming to my eyes. I plead with him to stop, but my words are slurred and incoherent. No one around us pays attention as he pulls me toward the bedroom.

Everything happens so fast. One moment I was wrestling with Aegon, crying and trying to beg him to let me go, the next he was on the floor and Jace was in front of me with his hands clenched into his fists.

I watch Aemond emerge from the crowd, looking at his brother's bloodied nose and bruising face on the floor. It blurs together. I watch as they crash to the floor, glass shattering. I see blood, a broken bottle in Jace's hand, and then Aemond bruised and bloodied on the floor. Jace looks at me, his gaze softening as he grabs my hand and pulls me out. He makes sure I have everything. I look at his face, his nose bleeding and cuts on his arms and hands. I feel my sickness surface, pulling me from Jace and vomiting in the front yard. I hear him say something, but I can't hear him over my vomiting. He pulls my hair back, waits until I finish, and then helps me to his car.

I have thrown up on my shirt. I can smell it. Jace gets in the front seat as I lay in the back, whining and curling up. He watches me through the rearview mirror.

We drive for only a bit before he stops his car. I look out the window, seeing we're at a nearby gas station. He turns around, looking at me then unzipping his backpack that's rested on the floorboard of the back seat.

"Jace..?" I whine, and he softly shushes me. I look at his bloodied hands, my eyebrows furrowed.

"You're okay, you're safe. I'm here," he whispers, pulling out his hockey jersey. He hands it to me. "Can you change into this for me?" I stare at him, shaken up and still scared from the party ordeal. "I won't look." He turns away, covering his eyes. Hesitantly, I strip off my shirt and throw his jersey over my torso. I softly murmur his name, and he looks back at me, smiling lovingly at me. The blood on his face has dried up, and I feel guilty. I feel responsible.

"Jace I'm sorry," I slur out, the brunette reaching for my hand and holding it tightly.

"You have no reason to apologize. Let's go back to your house and clean you up. Okay?" He whispers, making my heart clench as tears fall down my cheeks. "I won't let anything happen to you, ever. You're safe."

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