#then someone implies I'm not doing a good enough job/working hard enough by like a tiny margin

[peachsunset]

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[livelaughpeg]

I'm writing this from a throwaway account, because you know...Scientology.

I want to preface this post by saying I am not one of those "I knew it all along!" people. I can't stand that attitude. I was pretty ambivelant towards Neil Gaiman. Prior to the allegations, I didn't hate him but I wasn't that interested in him as a person either. I don't think you can always tell when someone is a bad or good person simply by the topics they write about. If that was the case we'd be arresting every horror writer on earth.

But one thing that did always rub me up the wrong way was the way he talked about getting work.

I borrowed and read "Make Good Art" (a small book based on a speech he gave to graduates at the University of the Arts) at a time in my life that I was really struggling to get by (I still am to some extent, but in a different way). I expected to see some practical advice. Instead it was a bunch of glib shit like:

I got out into the world, I wrote, and I became a better writer the more I wrote, and I wrote some more, and nobody ever seemed to mind that I was making it up as I went along, they just read what I wrote and they paid for it, or they didn’t, and often they commissioned me to write something else for them. Looking back, I’ve had a remarkable ride. I’m not sure I can call it a career, because a career implies that I had some kind of career plan, and I never did. The nearest thing I had was a list I made when I was 15 of everything I wanted to do: to write an adult novel, a children’s book, a comic, a movie, record an audiobook, write an episode of Doctor Who… and so on. I didn’t have a career. I just did the next thing on the list.

Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art. I’m serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it’s all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn’t matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

Yeah, well, no shit. If you're a writer or artist you probably do anyway. Whether you get paid for it or not, whether you draw fan art or original art. But the point of Gaiman's speech was to give advice to people who wanted to be paid for their art. To make a career of it. Making art every day isn't always enough. You have to pay the damn rent, you have to eat, you have to network and do social media and promote yourself, and you have to do it while thousands of other people are doing the same thing in a massive crowd of people who want the same thing. Practical advice is much more valuable than platitudes and theory.

I am not a writer, I'm an illustrator, and let me tell you that for most people, 'getting your foot in the door' isn't a one time thing. Quite often you have to work at getting your foot in the door again and again until you become established, and it's very easy to be forgotten. I still feel like I'm in that stage now.

I watched my peers, and my friends, and the ones who were older than me and watch how miserable some of them were: I’d listen to them telling me that they couldn’t envisage a world where they did what they had always wanted to do any more, because now they had to earn a certain amount every month just to keep where they were. They couldn’t go and do the things that mattered, and that they had really wanted to do; and that seemed as a big a tragedy as any problem of failure.

The implication was that he was successful because he wrote every day and his friends weren't because they didn't, because you know, working a second job is tiring. He called this a tragedy, but there was something very glib about the way he narrated this.

I think someone had more financial cushion that he was letting on.

And yes, sometimes it does work that way, (some people are very lucky and make all the right connections) but Gaiman was getting Big Jobs right off the bat and something about that never smelt right to me after the way he talked about it.

And then I saw Jeff's tweets. Oh, that's why...

I suspect the truth is he was living off his family's money and connections, and while I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with that if you're a struggling artist, his family are Scientologists, and I don't think he ever struggled.

I suspect it's all a lie.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

[dotster001]

Request pls: Yuu's Harem

Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Idia, Malleus, Azul to gn!reader that helps them heal from overblot (unsure to add Vil cus he has Rook whom already does god's work everyday)

Reader just comes close to their space and sees if they're doing good. Then it evolves to asking about their day and about the world of TW to make convo. Then it turns to a friendship where Reader commends them for doing things beneficial and good for themselves in the day, then tells them "Good boy/good job!" at even the smallest things when they take care of themselves without Reader's help (beast tamer Yuu awakening)

Reader gives them a braided bracelet made by themself and they cherish it. But then one day the Vice/Other dorm leader notices the bracelet and goes "Ah, so you're officially part of the harem"

You can write either first or second paragraph I just wrote it all out for context of the second

Self Love and Braided Bracelets

A/N: I did a little bit of both 😁 I included Vil, because no offense to Rook, but someone who makes comments about someone's weight is not good for self love

3k followers masterlist

"So, I made this for you. You don't have to wear it, I just….I was making one and it kind of started to remind me of you," you handed Vil the gold and purple braided bracket you'd made the night before. He gently picked it up, seemingly unsure of how to feel about it.

"Also, I just want to say," you took a deep breath, "if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here to listen."

The look in your eyes was so heartfelt that Vil worried he'd tear up just from looking at it. 

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

Not that you'd ever know how raw you'd made him feel. Perhaps he was still too weak from his incident. It didn't matter. He was as composed and calm as ever.

A braided bracelet didn't exactly fit his wardrobe. But the next morning, his hand hovered over it, hesitating about not wearing it. So he slipped it on. His gut was never wrong, and it was telling him to wear it. Besides, his sleeves would cover it.

….

Months later, and Vil was now sitting at your lunch table. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed it when you would take a spoonful of food and feed it to him when he didn't eat enough.

Malleus Draconia, of all people, walked over to your table with a tray, his entourage in tow.

"Hey Mal Mal! I'll get us some more chairs," you said with a smile, getting up and beginning your hunt for seats.

Idia looked up from his silent eating, and pointed to Malleus' wrist.

"So you're part of the harem now, huh?"

"The what?" Vil muttered before noticing the green and black braided bracelet on Malleus' wrist.

"It's not a harem," Riddle said with a pout.

"What else would you call it?" Idia snapped, fiddling with his own bracelet that Vil was noticing for the first time.

"The turnip's got a point for once. It is very harem like," Leona snickered.

"Doesn't harem imply a romantic aspect?" Azul asked, looking up from his meal. 

"The flowers we all got for love day have a certain implication," Leona smirked.

"And the "I love you, have a great day! You matter to me!" Texts every morning also have an implication," Jamil muttered, clearly flustered by the conversation.

Idia nodded, and said, "It could also just be a friendly harem. You know, a harem of self love. Harems can be platonic."

"Platonic, huh?" Riddle sounded a little sad.

"It sounds like it really depends on Y/N's feelings," Vil spoke up finally.

Before the others could respond, you came back dragging a chair with you.

"Sorry that took so long! Who knew it would be so hard to find a chair?" You laughed.

Malleus sat down, and you looked over at  Idia.

"Idia, I know I don't say this enough, but I'm really proud of you for eating lunch with us."

"Thank you," Idia practically purred, the tips of his hair turning a light pink.

Vil shook his head with a light laugh. He looked at his fellow "harem mates", and realized that whether this was platonic, romantic, or something else, he was willing to see wherever it led.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

hi! could i request a rosa diaz fic where rosa has a really awful stomachache while she’s at the precinct, but she doesn’t want to admit she doesn't feel good. she keeps trying to work until reader eventually pulls her aside and rosa opens up and tells reader (rosa and reader aren’t dating yet). then reader brings her home and they get all cozy, and reader stays until rosa feels better. at the end rosa finally admits she likes reader and they kiss and its all very fluffy and sweet. tysm!!

Hey, friend! Hope this is what you were looking for. 🥰 This one took me a little longer than usual, but I'm really pleased with how it turned out. And for all you Rosa Diaz fans, get ready because I've got a lot of Rosa requests in my inbox! —illdowhatiwantthanks

Just Playing

Rosa Diaz x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, cops (duh, but they don't do any cop things), mentions of periods, period pain, implied sex Word count: 2.9k

Summary: You take Rosa back to her apartment after she has a rough day at work thanks to period pains. But you never could have seen where the evening would take you.

Rosa was nearly bent double as she stood at the podium, reading notes from a clipboard on a new drug ring they’d be investigating over the next several weeks. Her teeth were gritted, and she looked for all the world like she could kill someone. Well, she looked more like she could kill someone than usual.

You were good at reading Rosa, better than the rest of the squad. Maybe because your job allowed you more observation time; you were an officer, sure, but you didn’t carry a gun and you didn’t police the streets. You were their digital analyst, doing your own investigations online and finding information for the squad to use in their investigations. As a result, you had a lot of time in the precinct.

You were quieter than the others, more reserved, more observant. You knew that Jake got loud when he got insecure. You knew that simply telling Amy she was doing a good job was enough to stop a spiral in its tracks. You knew that Captain Holt had a fondness for candy canes, so you kept some in your desk drawer all year round, just to pull one out when it seemed like he needed a pick-me-up. But you knew Rosa best of all.

You’d be lying if you said you watched Rosa for solely platonic reasons. She was pretty. She was smart. She worked hard, and she cared about people–no matter how much she tried to act like she didn’t. Best of all, you could make her smile. No one else made her smile. After your first month or so on the job, she started talking to you. At first you were taken aback. Why was she being nice to you!? Why was she approaching you at all!? Rosa didn’t do small talk. She didn’t do politeness for the sake of being nice. It had to be that she actually liked you. You were flattered. As far as you could tell, Rosa didn’t like many people.

She especially didn’t like people today. She was clearly not okay. And you weren’t the only one who could tell.

“Any questions?” Rosa asked, finishing up her presentation, and pressing a hand over her abdomen.

Jake raised his hand and Rosa rolled her eyes.

“What, Jake?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

She glared at him. “Why, fuckface? Do I not look okay?”

“No, no!” he squeaked, hands up in defense. “You look great. Everything’s great. Carry on.”

You fiddled around in your bag, waiting for everyone else to leave the room before approaching Rosa, who leaned heavily on the podium, eyes closed.

You approached her cautiously. After all, Rosa was known for her explosive temper. She’d never exploded at you, but there was a first time for everything you supposed.

“Are you really?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm?” Rosa grumbled, inhaling sharply.

“Feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice was decisive, rough.

You lifted your eyes to study her face. When she finally looked at you–her expression pained, exhausted, embarrassed–you knew. She was not okay. The fact that she’d let you see that she wasn’t okay underlined just how not okay she was.

“What’s going on?” Your voice was low, your posture casual so that no one observing would be able to tell you were concerned about her.

“Cramps.” Her cheeks reddened a bit, and you nodded. She didn’t need to say anything else. You got it. Any woman would get it.

“Why don’t you go home?” you suggested.

“I can’t,” she said tersely, glancing into the squad room to make sure no one was watching you two.

“Rosa,” you scolded her. “It’s not gonna kill you to go home an hour early.”

“No, I mean, I can’t.” She grabbed your arm, and gently pulled you aside to where no one could see. Your stomach did little somersaults, and you felt bad for getting excited when Rosa was clearly in pain. “I tried getting on my motorcycle. It felt like I was being stabbed in the fucking uterus. I’m just gonna call a cab once everyone else heads out.”

“Well, that’s dumb,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Rosa raised her eyebrows at you. It’s true, you weren’t normally that blunt. “I’ll take you home. You shouldn’t have to stick around here just being in pain. That’s stupid.”

“No, Y/N, don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” She started walking away, and this time it was you who grabbed her.

“It’s fine, Rosa. I don’t mind. I’m done with my work for the day. We’re friends, right?”

Rosa looked at you long and hard, like she was thinking through a problem, before nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Okay, then.” You threw your bag over your shoulder. “This is what friends do.”

You started to walk out of the room, swinging your keys around your finger before stopping and turning back to Rosa. “It’ll, uh, be a minute, though. Just so you know. I parked… pretty far away.”

She grinned at you. “Yeah, I heard about that. You don’t use the precinct lot?”

“No! You have to pay for it! I’m not paying for parking at my job.”

“So where do you park then?” Rosa asked, sitting heavily in a chair and spinning.

You shrugged. “Wherever there’s street parking.”

“I’ll give it to you, Y/L/N,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re committed.”

You shot her an awkward, two-finger salute before walking out of the precinct and starting the several-block trek to your parked car.

You were kind of hanging out with Rosa tonight! Sure, she wasn’t feeling well. Sure, she might just be desperate for a ride home. But it counted… right? You’d parked just a block away from a bodega and silently thanked this morning’s parking gods. You picked up an assortment of things, some you knew Rosa liked, some that you’d want when you were on your period. And then, at the last moment as you waited to check out, you grabbed a bouquet of baby’s breath. It always made you feel better to have something pretty to look at. They might be a little too much, but it’s not like you’d gotten her roses or anything. Baby’s breath was a just friends flower? Right?

You threw your shopping bag in the backseat, then zoomed to the precinct for Rosa. You texted her, then waited, growing more nervous by the second. You’d never been alone with Rosa. Not like this, not in an enclosed space that wasn’t work. She sat with you at lunch sometimes or you went out for drinks with everyone after work, but this was different.

Pull yourself together, you thought, taking a deep breath as Rosa opened the passenger door and sat down heavily, leaning her head back.

“You alright?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

She nodded slowly. You waited for her to tell you where to go, but she was quiet.

“Uh… Rosa?”

She glanced at you.

“I kind of need to know where you live.”

Rosa seemed to think deeply about this, then leaned back and said, “Turn left up here. I’ll tell you where to go.”

You put the car in drive and simply followed.

When you pulled up next to Rosa’s building–a pre-war dairy refurbished as lofts–you followed her in quietly, stunned into silence, the bag of bodega groceries swinging at your wrist.

The elevator took you up to the fifth floor, and you couldn’t help but gape at her huge windows, the sealed concrete floor, the top-of-the-line appliances and expensive furniture.

You set the grocery bag on the kitchen island and took it all in, eyes wide.

“No offense or anything, but… how the hell do you live here on a police officer’s salary?”

“I don’t,” Rosa said bluntly, opening her medicine cabinet and rustling around. “I flip old cars in my spare time.”

“Oh.” You were glad Rosa was turned away from you so she couldn’t see you flush bright red at the thought of how she’d look fixing a car.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, slamming the cabinet shut. You jumped. “I’m out of–”

“Midol?” you asked, pulling a series of medicines out of your bag. “Tylenol? Advil? Aleve? Pick your poison.”

Rosa looked at the pills, grabbing the Midol, then staring at you so hard you blushed and turned away, rummaging through the grocery bag. You couldn’t see it, but her eyes softened as she watched you.

“You brought me painkillers?” she asked, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, still avoiding her eyes. “And…” You pulled things out of the bag like it was a magic hat. “Takis, Hot Cheetos, chocolate, a frozen pizza, and Moose Tracks.”

Now it was Rosa’s turn to gape at you. But somehow that made you blush all the more. “I just…” You stumbled over your words. “I always like pizza and chocolate when I’m on my period. And I know you love Takis and Hot Cheetos. And you always have Moose Tracks in the freezer at work.” When Rosa didn’t respond, you kept talking, trying to fill the silence. “It’s no big deal or anything. I didn’t want you to have to go out later or–”

“You noticed my Moose Tracks?” she finally said, smirking, her eyes twinkling.

“Well, yeah.” You shrugged. “I notice a lot.”

“Uh-huh…” Rosa mumbled, watching you flutter around the kitchen, opening cabinet after cabinet to find a glass and get her and yourself some water. You were so nervous your mouth was dry.

“Go lay down or something!” you told her, flustered. “I’ll bring you some water. Do you want me to put the pizza in the oven for you?”

“That depends, will you stay and eat it with me?”

Rosa seemed to have transformed all of a sudden. She’d been largely preoccupied with her pain before, and you could tell she was still feeling it, but it was like a switch had been flipped. Where before she’d been, if not distant, just vaguely nice, now she seemed smug, confident, almost… flirty? As if she had something on you. You desperately hoped that what she had on you was not the fact that you had a massive crush on her.

“Uh… s-sure,” you mumbled. “If you want.”

“I do,” she said, flopping onto the couch and covering herself with a blanket. You brought her a glass of water so she could take her pills, then preheated the oven, fishing a sheet pan out of a cabinet and placing the pizza in to bake.

You sat down on the opposite side of the couch from Rosa, inching to the very edge, and trying your very best not to touch her. You never, ever wanted to make her feel uncomfortable by touching her, even by accident. But she spread out and pressed her feet against your thighs, making your breath catch in your throat.

She scrolled through shows on her TV, then asked you abruptly, “You ever watch Drake’s Hollow?”

You shook your head.

“You should. We could now, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you said encouragingly, willing to watch literally anything with Rosa.

“We’ll start at the beginning so you know what’s going on,” she said, searching for the right episode. “It’s not good. It’s like… the McDonald’s of television.”

You grinned. “Like the frozen pizza of television.”

“Yeah.” She smiled at you. “But sometimes it’s all you want, you know?”

Rosa was right. Drake’s Hollow was not good. The acting was awful. The plot? Melodramatic and borderline ridiculous. But it was fun. You loved to gasp at the hilarious twists and turns. The melodramatic, lovelorn speeches of the characters. To yell, “Boo! Dump his ass!” at the screen when the husband was revealed to be cheating on the wife.

For her part, Rosa loved watching you watch Drake’s Hollow. But you wouldn’t know that. You could hardly believe your luck that you were here. In Rosa’s apartment. With Rosa next to you, so close she was touching you! That you were watching this stupid, stupid show together and making a frozen pizza. You were on cloud nine. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at her, so scared were you that you’d fumble and get awkward again and ruin everything.

“Bathroom?” you asked, standing during a commercial break.

“Down the hall to the right,” Rosa said, pointing behind her.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands, patting cool water on your cheeks in hopes that it’d bring down the flush that hadn’t left since the moment you’d stepped foot in Rosa’s house. You heard the oven timer go off and quickly dried your hands.

You walked into the kitchen, and your stomach dropped all the way to the floor. The pizza was out of the oven, cooling. And Rosa was standing at the island, pulling the slightly rumpled bouquet of baby’s breath out of the grocery bag. The bouquet you’d foregone, thinking it probably was too much.

She looked at you, and you looked away.

“Did you buy me flowers?” she asked.

Fuck, you thought to yourself. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yep,” you sighed, trying to sound nonchalant. “I just… like to have something pretty to look at. You know, when I’m… on my period.”

It was a ridiculous excuse. You knew it. Rosa almost certainly knew it. She wasn’t stupid. You exhaled heavily and slapped a few slices of pizza onto a plate, hoping that a return to the couch, to Drake’s Hollow, would return everything else to normal, too.

You heard Rosa fill a vase with water, heard her arrange the flowers before grabbing her own pizza. Be cool, be cool, be cool, you told yourself as she sat back down, setting her plate next to yours on the coffee table.

You avoided her eyes, waiting for her to start the show again. You got more and more nervous the longer the silence went on, the longer the paused screen vibrated on the TV.

“Y/N,” Rosa finally said, her voice softer than normal.

Fuck, you cursed internally. You’d fucked it up. She knew. She knew and she didn’t feel the same because of course she didn’t, and now you’d ruined everything. It was all going to be awkward and weird now. Fuck.

“Flowers aren’t a thing that friends do.”

You let out a shaky breath. “They… could be?” you ventured, knowing as soon as it left your mouth that it wasn’t true, not for you and her.

She carefully slid her hand into yours, and you felt your heart stop.

“And what if I wanted to give you flowers?” she asked.

You blinked, not quite believing your ears, and turned to look at Rosa. Her face was light, playful, so much softer than usual. Was she teasing you? Tricking you? Making fun of you? Surely, she wasn’t that mean. She could be ruthless, sure. But she wasn’t cruel. Not to people she cared about it.

She gently grasped your chin, and your stomach did flips. Then she leaned forward and she kissed you. Just like that. So simple, so easy, so soft. Softer than you’d ever imagined Rosa to be. A softness she probably didn’t let many people see. She was so gentle, her fingers light as feathers against the skin of your face, her lips barely grazing yours, as if to ask for permission.

When she pulled away, you were breathless, even though she’d barely touched you, barely pressed her lips to yours. You just looked at each other for a moment, as if to gauge the other, as if to ask if this was real. But you–you’d wanted to kiss Rosa since the day you met her. The fact that she wanted to kiss you? Unbelievable. Beyond your wildest imagination. Rosa fucking Diaz. Absolute enigma. Terror of the Brooklyn 99. Wanted to kiss you.

Before you could even fully register what you were doing, you’d surged forward, grasping her face in your hands, pressing your lips to hers with all the fervor of an unrequited love that had, against all odds, become requited. She laughed, smiling into the kiss, pressing her hands against your collarbone, curling them around your neck.

When you finally ran out of breath, you leaned back, grinning, hand pressed to your forehead. Rosa laughed again, and you turned to her.

“This isn’t a prank, right?” you asked.

“No!” she scoffed, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking a bite. “I’m not that mean.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Okay, I wouldn’t be that mean to you.”

“Wow,” you smirked, taking a bite of your own slice. “You really do like me.”

“Shut up, nerd,” she grumbled, mouth full, shoving her shoulder into you.

But you could tell by the way her eyes sparkled, by the way the corners of her mouth turned up, by the way she let herself linger next to you, skin touching, that she was playing when she called you names.

But she wasn’t playing when she kissed you. Wasn’t playing when she turned Drake’s Hollow back on and tentatively tucked herself into your side. And she certainly wasn’t playing when the pizza was done, the ice cream eaten, the show over, the night late. When she said, “You might as well stay if you want to. You’ll have to drive me in the morning anyway,” then stood and walked to her bedroom, giving you a look that let you know you were meant to follow. And you did.

[ghostedgrim]

She's all that is about the popular guy being dared to date the "nerdy girl" by his so called friend, he takes the dare but ends up falling for her. She finds out and they have a fight and break up. He wins her back in the end. Take it anyway you want! I do want Eric to be jealous as hell after they break up when other guys start taking an interest in reader!!

She's All That pt.1

Pt2. Request page. Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️: Getting dared to pretend to date someone, implied violence, jealousy,

"Eric, with all so respect, you're a Dauntless leader, yet you've been single since day one." The music in the bar is so loud that for a moment Eric almost didn't hear him.

"Personally James, I don't see how that's relevant. I have enough hookups to satisfy me plenty, I don't need some girl or whatever. Relationships I just a bothersome hassle."

"I bet you don't have a single romantic bone in your body."

"That's what you think, James," the bartender hands Eric a plate of food and leaves her number on the receipt. "Now if I were an unromantic man, that woman wouldn't have given me her number just now."

"Okay whatever, we both know you're good at getting men and women into your bed, but can you handle a full on relationship?"

"Yes, I just prefer not to, I don't need it" Eric shrugs.

James smirks and holds up his wallet. "Prove it then, date y/n then, the ex Erudite girl from your iniation class. You don't have to love her back, just make her love you. Do it and I'll pay for your next tattoo."

"Fine, how long do I have?"

"I'll give you about a month."

"Then we have deal James."

Is drinking by the chasm stupid? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not, not when I've been on a week long trip to Amity to handle Dauntless soldiers who forgot their mission and decided to play with the Amity girls. My job is to train and direct Dauntless soldiers, yet most days I find myself spanking ass because they don't know how to behave.

"God I should've stayed in Erudite." I groan. Obviously it isn't true, the people there were cruel, liars, manipulators, vain, but I must admit I missed all the reading and research I'd done throughout my time there.

"Saying stuff like that would get you killed," I damn near jump out of my skin at the sound of the deep rumbling voice behind me. I turn around to see Eric standing right behind me. He wraps an arm around my waist to stable me, and guide me away from the chasm as I sway. "Long day?"

"More like a long week," my hard scowl meets his cold grey eyes, "What do you want Eric?"

He looks at me with a prideful expression, "I wish to take you out on a date. Don't worry about work tomorrow I'm assigning you a day off."

I scoff, taking another sip of my drink. "Me? Hookup with you? Not interested."

Eric falters for a moment, a small tick in his jaw, before returning to that prideful arrogance. "Good, I'm not interested in a hookup. Meet me tomorrow at 8pm by the train, I'd like to get to know you, nerdy and all."

Before I could even argue he walks away, that entitled ass really thinks I'll just go where he tells me because he said it's a date. I wonder if he uses that method with every girl he hooks up with. Either way I'm not going.

"I'm not going." I remind myself for the uptinth time today. I'm laying on my stomach atop a skyscraper, sniper rifle in hand. Every shooting range in Dauntless is underground except for the rifle range. Every target is at least a mile away, and every night they're moved to a new spot, hidden somewhere on the streets below, or hidden in a new room within the buildings around me. Sometimes, the targets are put on conveyors so they move around, and sometimes some are hidden so well you can only see a tiny sliver. To handle a gun that can shoot from miles away takes practice, and extreme smarts. Constantly I must calculate how the wind may effect my bullet, how far before gravity pulls it down, the most effective place to hit a target, arm to disarm, leg to stop them from running, chest or head to kill.

Only 7 people here in Dauntless have been trained and can handle a rifle and I'm one of those seven. It's one of the few jobs I can use to challenge myself. Kinda fascinating how using a gun takes so much math and knowledge in physics. None the less, I still train at least twice a week like the others.

I'm not fucking going! BANG!! My gun jerke violently, the bullet flies through the air landing perfectly onto the head of a far away target.

I look at my watch, "6:15." I'm not fucking going.

I readjust. BANG!!

I wonder what Eric could possibly have in mind for our date. Wait, why the fuck should I even care? I'm not even going.

It would be rude to stand him up though, and maybe he does actually like me, maybe he's finally going to be in a relationship and he actually chose me. I scoff, nah that's fucking stupid, as if Eric would think to pick me our of all the women already obsessed with him. I'm sure he'll live if stand him up.

BANG!! I miss by a whole 5 feet. "Fucker."

BANG!! I miss again...

It's 7:58, I'm standing by the train tracks wearing my nicest black dress, combat boots, and my favorite gun and dagger holstered to my thigh beneath the skirt of my dress. I even did my makeup. Fuck me, why the Hell did I fall for this crap?

I watch the train approach. "Where the Hell is Eric? Is this a prank?" I fail to hear the frantic footsteps from behind me. I barely have time to process anything before there's an arm around my waist and I'm getting dragged into a train car.

"Sorry I'm late, had some last second paperwork to handle. Thank God I made it in time to catch the train. You okay?" Eric is wearing his typical black cargo pants, combat boots, his black shirt is tight fitting and pared with a black jacket, his hair is in it's signature style and everything. Why the Hell am I about to swoon?

"I'm uh, yeah I'm fine." I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I regain my footing. "For a moment I was scared you stood me up."

Eric scoffs, "Stand up a beautiful girl like you? I'd rather punch a brick wall." He sits down on the threshold of the door, letting his legs dangle out of the traincar as we race through the city. "Come sit," he pats his thigh.

If he's dissapointed I didn't sit on his lap he doesn't show it as I sit across from him. Unlike him I keep my legs inside the train car. "So uh..." I click my tounge, "why did you ask me out in a date, and why did you do it without the intent of hooking up? Last time I checked you never had time for a girlfriend."

"You've never been asked out before-"

"Oh so you're asking me out as a joke? Or pity? Because I'm not staying if that's the case." Eric appears to panic for a moment and quickly grips my shoulder as I try to stand.

"I wasn't finished," he states defensively, Eric's eyes stare deep into mine, their color cold as a winter storm, yet my cheeks warm and my heart stutters. I should probably check that with a doctor. "You and I came to Dauntless and went through iniation at the same time, if I recall correctly you ranked 10th place out of 35 initiates. Now you're not only training and directing Dauntless soldiers, but you're also apart of the only seven people here in Dauntless capable of handling a sniper rifle. I think I have every reason to be curious about you, because the fact that nobody has asked you out is baffling, especially considering how stunning and powerful you are."

Never have I expected a man like Eric to say such words. Stunning? Powerful? I know I'm strong, no idea where he gets the idea I have good looks, but honestly, I feel like I'm the hottest girl in Dauntless after hearing those words. Eric's hand rests atop mine, warm, strong, calloused from rigorous training, his eyes seem to trace my face, and suddenly I'm 16 and freshly transferred to Dauntless again. Eric was terrifying, but hot back then, he still is now just more tame.

I soon realize I've been gaping like a damn fish for minutes now and Eric's small chuckle breaks me from my trance. "I take it nobody has told you that before," he brings a hand to my cheek, his expression soft, "let me be the one to change that, to show and tell you just how amazing you are."

I used to imagine how his lips would taste. t

Then I turned 17 and pushed it from my mind because I was convinced Eric would never love me. He would always be too busy chasing tail to even notice me. But now his eyes are on my lips, his tounge even darts out for a moment to lick his bottom lip. He then looks back at my eyes, he leans in the hand on my cheek pulling me closer. "You smell like strawberries." Our lips are almost touching, his warm breath fanning across my jaw, he smells like gunpowder, cedarwood, and whiskey. I can barely hear anything over my pounding heart. I close my eyes, leaning forward to close the distance between us.

"Shit!" I open my eyes as Eric frantically pulls himself away from the door and the traincar is encased in darkness for several seconds until we leave the small tunnel. "Fuck," Eric laughs, "nearly lost my damn leg." I can't help but to laugh with him.

"That would certainly be quite the traumatic first date." We settle down again the wall both looking out the open door across from us. "How about we just keep all our limbs inside the train for now?" Eric sighs, and we both relax taking in the sight and sounds of the dark clouds rolling in and the distance thunder. The train rolls through the miles of green, flat land between the city and Amity. You can still see the bright lights of the Erudite buildings. It's peaceful, and I can't help but just enjoy the moment rather than talk.

"I once lit my hand on fire." Eric says it so casually as if he were talking about the damn weather.

"You what! Please do tell." I smile like a little kid excited for candy. Eric smiles back and dives into the story of how in chemistry he accidentally covered his hand in lighter fluid, then instead of washing it off he thought it faster to just burn it off. Fortunately the fire lit and burnt out too quick to cause any permanent damage.

It's pouring by the time the train reaches the Dauntless sector. Eric jumps off, then I jump right after. I barely have time to finish standing before he's wrapping his jacket around me. "I would hate for you to catch a cold. Now let me walk you home."

I'm starting to think this is a dream.

Asking her out was one thing, I never meant to get attached. We've been dating for almost a month now. Every time I see her my heart stops, and all I can do is admire her like some dumb schoolboy with a crush. Never in my life did I think I could actually fall in love, and never did I think I would stay up all night imagining what it would be like to kiss a girl, let alone replaying the sound of her laughter in my mind over and over. She's strong, smart as Hell, arguably smarter than me, and gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous I could drown in her arms. Honestly if she suffocated me I'd probably thank the damn woman.

"I'm fucked, I'm so utterly fucked." I spend maybe another hour in bed with nothing but my boxers on. I'm already running late, but fuck it, it won't kill Max if I'm late for work just once.

I'm quick to change clothes and rushed out of my home to search for y/n. I find her in the training room running a small squad through some drills. Without a single care I kiss her cheek, "Good morning, my dagger. Sorry for interrupting, but I just needed a small taste of you to get through my day." Her cheeks are dusted in red, and fuck she's just so damn cute it stabs my heart, and then her expression snaps back to stone and she shoos me away.

I catch James in the small squad of men, he's smiling and my heart drops as I remember our bet. I take my time walking up to my office. "How the Hell am I going to escape this?"

Today was exhausting, and I received far to many lewd comments about my relationship with Eric than I'd like. But now I can finally go visit Eric at the bar. For a guy known to be heartless and terrifying he's an amazing boyfriend.

Many people, especially Four, had warned me that Eric was likely dating me as a joke, but I highly doubt he'd continue fake dating me for a whole month as a joke. It's definitely not a joke. Yeah he can be mean, really mean, and cruel, especially to initiates, and yes he's heartless to seemingly everyone here in Dauntless but he has exceptions for certain people... I'm important to him, he's not dating me as a joke, sure he's capable of being that cruel but... he isn't doing that... right?

I try to shake the uneasy thoughts from my head, their just stupid fears, that's all. I pull on Eric's jacket and quickly make my way down to the bar.

I've been sitting alone at this table for nearly 20 minutes, and I can feel the eyes on me. My stomach is a storm of unease, and my doubt is ever growing. This isn't the first time Eric has been late to a date. When we first started dating, he had been cocky, full of himself, half the time it sounded like he was trying to talk me into bed. Despite our first date, it had taken me a while to finally, truly open up to him, to trust him, and believe he wouldn't hurt me. Yet here I am, sitting alone at a table a week later.

It's been a fucking hour, and I swear I can hear the whispers, feel the eyes. The waitress looks at me with contempt, as if she's won something and I lost at whatever she was winning it. My unease eventually turns to frustration and soon I'm walking through the dimly lit halls in search of Eric.

"Fuck me man, and here I thought you were incapable of a relationship." James, without a damn doubt that's his voice.

"Well I'm full of surprises." Eric? That's definitely him. Why the Hell is he with James instead of me, and why are they talking about relationships?

I stalk closer to where I'd heard them speaking, James is running his mouth about a girl's ass making it easy for me to find the two men, and watch them while remaining unseen.

"Have you both kissed, better yet fucked?" James asks and it makes my stomach turn sour. Kissing is fine, but asking about my sex life is not. Not that I have one, yet.

Eric huffs, "no we haven't had sex, and unless you count kissing on the cheek, then we haven't kissed yet."

"Ah, so in that case it isn't love." James has a concerningly victorious look.

"Just because we haven't kissed doesn't mean she isn't in love with me. She's never kissed a guy before, let alone have sex." Eric sounds somewhat annoyed.

"Well damn, a virgin, and unkisssed, I think I may need a taste myself. It's been awhile since I've tried a girl like that. Though-"

"James," Eric warns, his voice deep and posture tense. I wish I could see Eric's face, but all I can see is his back.

"Fine, fine, so you claim she's in love with you. Now I can argue that, but I saw the way that girl looked at you when you visited her last week. She looked at you the way a girl looks at a puppy." James shrugs, and then his eyes lock with mine and he smiles. "It seems I've lost our bet Eric. You can be romantic, and you are capable of making any girl, even ugly miss grumpy, genuinely fall for you. I can't wait to watch her face and see her cry when you tell her you're whole relationship has been fake."

"James-"

"Then aging you should definitely keep dating her. Think about it, maybe she'll stop being so closed off and grumpy, better yet, she'll stop being so strict on my squad. Perhaps you can make her give me a few promotions."

"Playing with her emotions to make her date me and fall in love was-"

I don't think, I just run. I don't stop running, not until my legs give out and I find myself sitting in a train car. That asshole! I trusted him, I loved him, and yet that fucker was using me for his own sick gain! My comm link keeps ringing, and in my frustration I stupidly throw it out of the train.

I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe, my chest hurts like Hell, and my vision is so blurry from tears that I can barely see shit. It was fake, it was all fake. Everything he said was fake! I was nothing to him! Absolutely nothing!

I curl up, and I hate myself for doing it, but I pull his jacket tighter around me. "Gods how can I be so fucking stupid... they warned me, so many fucking times and I ignored them like an idiot."

The sun is rising by the time I get off the train. It's freezing cold, snow covers the street and snowflakes fall from the sky. I glance at the cameras as I walk back to the compound. No doubt Four is watching me through them, or is already at my apartment with a whole essay of a lecture awaiting me. I don't even know if I have the energy to keep walking. So I just lean against a brick wall inside an alley.

I don't know how much time has passed, I'm shivering uncontrollably but I just can't seem to move.

"Y/n." His voice is deep, soft, and full of warmth and I find myself crying all over again.

"Four, I... you were right I-" He interrupts me with a tight hug and kisses my forehead.

"Later, let's just get you home and warm." Four bundles me up in a spare jacket and scarf he brought before picking me up and carrying me home. The exhaustion hits me hard and I unwillingly let myself drift asleep.

I'm bundled in thick warm blankets when I wake up, two warm hands hold one of mine. I finally open my eyes. I'm in my bedroom, Four is leaning against the wall near my door, his knuckles scabbed, and splattered with blood. Confused I look to my left to see who the Hell is holding my hand. To my suprise it's Eric. His gaze is locked on our hands, eyes are rimmed in red, bruises decorate his jaw, right eye, and possibly other places, even his nose looks broken.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Eric's head snaps up and he looks at me in such a way that I'm convinced he actually does love me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, what happened- no, what I did was wrong. You didn't deserve any of that." A tear slips down his cheek and I roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt of gaining my pity. "Yes, James and I made a bet with him betting I couldn't make you fall in love with me. It was wrong, and it was cruel for me to manipulate you like that-"

"Get out." I snap.

"Hear him out, trust me," Four interrupts. "We both know Eric isn't the guy to let himself get beat up, especially without throwing at least one punch back." It dons on me that Four beat the shit out of Eric, but that's not what suprises me, it's the fact that Four is utterly unscathed. Eric actually let Four beat him up after what he did to me.

"I- at first it was fun, but then I started to develop feelings and holy shit I fell. I fell hard and fast and I didn't know what to do." Eric's voice breaks and he looks away from me. "You were like a goddam dagger, burrowed deep into my heart and seared into my brain. I thought, maybe to could just let myself win the bet instead of calling it off, you'd never have to know and we'd get to keep dating. You don't have to forgive me, but please know ever I've told you, it was the truth and I do love you. I love you so much it hurts."

"A part of me wants to believe you, Eric. However, the other part of me knows you're nothing more than a lying manipulative snake. I don't want to ever see you again, don't talk to me, don't even look at me."

Defeated Eric finally rids himself from my room.

"What happened to James?" I ask Four.

Four smiles, "Eric broke his jaw."

I sigh, deep in thought, "Did Eric actually let you hit him."

"Pretty much. I found him outside frantically looking for you, I punched first before asking questions. I had already seen all I needed to through the cameras. He didn't fight back once, just stood there and took my beating. I yelled st him for quite a bit before dragging his ass here then returning to the security cameras and waiting for you to step off the train."

"Four?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. And if I ever act that stupid again, slap the shit out of me."

[tofupixel]

adding on, i really do apologize. reading back i can tell i didn't reiterate enough that the actual work still matters more than anything.

im trying to take this from a place of good faith. it just irks me because i have seen so, so many people who believe they are incapable of art, their brain works too scientifically, some kind of disability that prevents them, and they managed to figure it out in their own way. i also can't see items in my head in 3d (i can see a little but not much) and it never stopped me, but i know some of my friends who also cant at all, and it bothers them greatly.

i don't know you or what you're going through but in my experience some people put pressures on themselves to do things a certain way, but when we are different, we have to find our own way forward.

in the end, who are you racing against? you need to go at your own pace, it doesnt matter if someone gets there faster than you. i know it can be hard to see others succeeding where you struggle, but the only way to actually fail is to give up. it doesnt matter how slow you go as long as you are making something and expressing yourself. try not to focus on the result so much.

whether or not that time investment is worth it to you is another discussion for sure.

sorry for snapping at you. after i just spent 6 hours writing that guide, seeing the first response be something negative actually just pissed me the fuck off. it was like why even bother, i just wanted to delete it tbh

edit: and FWIW the reason i had such fast progress is because i had nothing else to do. i lost my job in 2020 and i would just go homeless and die if i didnt make it work. ive done A LOT of pixel art, more than anybody should reasonably be expected to do, and im speaking from experience.

there is such a thing as quality of practise for sure, but i do believe that time beats everything. i'm not saying it to virtue signal like i think you were implying. someone being slightly more naturally gifted than me has no bearing on my life whatsoever.

[dashofmonsters]

Dreamers & Delusions- Pt. 1

Male Merman x Female Reader

You didn't like the idea of moving to another state and having to have a new life, but you hated the idea of staying even more so. There was nothing left for you but misery and you were just so tired of it.

When you moved to the west coast to live with your grandmother things seemed different. For the first few months there you felt like you could finally breathe, but that was short lived. Little by little things started to get worse.

First your grandmother kept making little snide remarks about your lack of interest in you not wearing make up. Then your job at the local diner had you working double shifts on the weekend. Your ex blasts some stupid shit about your break up all over social media and two of your close friends ghost you. Oh and then you discover a beautiful little slice of beach.

The last one wouldn't be so bad you tell yourself, if it wasn't for the same old stalking creeps who bother you at work. The only bright side was the mean mugging merman lifeguard who was built like a fucking god and had the attitude to back it up. In short, he's an asshole. But you know the difference between the good, the bad, and I'm just doing my job assholes and he's a weird mix of all three.

At first going to the beach was like free therapy for you. You could relax and get away from your judgmental grandmother and the creepy customers from the diner, it was like heaven. But just like moving here, things got worse over time. Somehow your three stalkers found your slice of heaven. Somehow you couldn't get far enough away from them. Somehow the beach became another slice of hell.

So you decided to sit as close as possible to the lifeguard when you wanted to lounge or swim out as far as possible. And that seemed to work, until today.

"Come on, I'm just asking you to have dinner with me," Kevin hovers over you, his arms crossed like an indignant child.

"For the last time man she's obviously not interested in an asshat like you. She'd rather go for drinks with me," Martin chimes in, his overly tattooed body stinking of cheap cologne and lack of deodorant.

"You two are fucked if you think she's going with either of you. She needs a real man, someone who can take care of her," Sam pushes the two aside and kneels down next two you. "Ain't that right sugar?" The accent, nickname, and bad breath nearly combined has you retching.

That response unfortunately spurred an impromptu fist fight. Kevin and Martin started wailing on Sam and then Sam the fuckboy threw punches filled with sand and Martin got punch so hard he moaned which made Sam hit him below the belt and the-

"I SAID ENOUGH!"

The scene died immediately. The nearly seven or eight foot tall merman lifeguard prowled towards the three idiots and parted them like they were curtains. Sam was the first to flee followed by Martin and Kevin who kicked up a ton of sand as the skedaddled towards the parking lot.

Mr. Asshole lifeguard stares you down hard now, his yellow eyes burning into you.

"Why is it whenever you're on my beach those three headaches are sure to follow?" he asks, very very pissed off.

You've had a similar question come up at work whenever those three would cause a ruckus on your shifts.

You roll your eyes, "Unfortunately some guys don't understand the definition of the word 'No'."

"So that means they have to follow you around like a group of parasites trying to latch at fresh meat?" he asks.

His question throws you off so much and the image it implies makes you giggle.

He's a merman from another realm who's acclimating, I should cut him some slack.

"That uh isn't too far from the truth but in all honesty, they're trying to bother me so much that I eventually have to say yes just to get them to stop bothering me," you explain.

The lifeguard crosses his arms and looks to the ground in serious contemplation before looking back up to you.

"And is this normal courting behavior," he asks.

"Unfortunately it is for some, but it's bad and wrong. For me it's annoying and I get no peace. They bothered me at work and now they bother me here when all I want to do is relax," you sigh, feeling oddly relieved to have gotten this off your chest albeit in an educational way.

"I see," he nods. "So you are not attracted to those parasites?"

"Not. At. All." you nod back.

"Noted," he grimaces and turns to walk back to the guard tower.

"Hey wait! What's your name?" you call out.

"It's Tao," he says, stilling walking towards his destination.

You smile and shout your name back to him but instead of dismissing you like you thought he would he waves back before ascending up the tower.

So it's Mr. Tao, mean mugging asshole lifeguard and crusher of parasites.

~~~~~~~~~

Things seemed calm for the first few days after Tao broke up the fight between the creeps. They didn't pop up at the diner nor at the beach but you still kept close to the guard tower. Well as close as Tao allowed it. He gave you a strong lecture that you needed to sit at least seven feet away from the tower for safety reasons.

Your grandmother even relaxed on her remarks for a little bit but moved from makeup to your weight. Something about working with food adding some extra pounds. It was a new hurt, but you'd numb to it eventually.

Getting numb was your specialty at this point.

And somehow finding new ways to bother Tao, though that was more unintentional. At first it was the sitting too close to the tower, then it was swimming without suntan lotion even though it was cloudy. Then it was not having an umbrella for shade which he oddly enough provided one for you a day later along with a lecture and a half. It would have been super annoying to anyone else but you found it oddly cute.

He'd henpeck at some of the parents over their kids running amuck or scold some of the too rowdy teenagers but no one could say that this guy didn't take his job seriously. No one got hurt or even so much as sunburnt under his watch.

Until they came back.

You had worked a long ass shift Sunday and all you wanted was to go to the beach and lounge. It was a short walk from your grandmother's house and you always enjoyed tuning the world out on that little trek.

It wasn't sunny but it wasn't too cloudy either. It was the perfect day to take a nice beach nap, watch a couple episodes of your favorite cooking shows, and maybe bother your favorite lifeguard for a bit of suntan lotion that you seem to keep forgetting.

You saunter down to the beach and lay out your favorite tie dye towel and stretch. Scanning the scene you notice that it'll be a very very calm day, that is since it's a Monday after all.

As you're about to walk over to the guard tower a familiar and annoying voice stops you.

"Hey babe, it's been a while!"

Ughhh Sam.

You ignore him and keep heading towards the tower. You hear him run towards you so you pick up the pace but are dragged back as he catches your arm.

"It's fucking rude to ignore someone talking to you," Sam spins you around and holds you in place.

"Like you'd fucking listen you fucking parasite. How many times do I have to say no or I'm not interested for you to get it through your thick fucking skull you goddamn idiot!" you yell at him, hoping Tao will hear.

Sam shakes you before jerking you around, "A pretty thing like you shouldn't be talking like that, come on and be sweet."

You start kicking your legs and land squirming violently before headbutting Sam as hard as you can right into his nose. He curses but doesn't let go so you decide to go to bite his hand until you're suddenly being ripped out of his arms.

Thinking it might be Tao you turn to smile only to be assaulted with that nasty cheap cologne smell. You grimace and try to pull away from Martin only to get yanked away by Kevin.

To his credit, Kevin doesn't hold on tight and he actually turns his back to the others before they try to continue their game of tug-a-war with you.

Sam kicks Kevin in the shin but somehow Kevin is able to stand long enough to push you in the direction of the tower. Without saying anything he turns and decks Sam in the face. You're frozen in horror for a moment then turn to run to the tower only to be met with a brick wall called Tao.

"I see the parasites are back on my beach," he seethes before looking you over. He looks furious.

Before you have a chance to say anything he stomps over and grabs Sam by his neck and hoists him in the air. Kevin and Martin fall back on their asses before scrambling to get out of the way.

"When someone says no, they mean no. It is not an invitation to continue your inappropriate courting behavior," Tao tightens his grip around Sam's neck.

"F-fffuck you fish boy. I will get you fucki-ing deported for this! I saw er first," Sam grits as he flails about, face turning all sorts of shades of red.

Tao tosses him to the ground like a ragdoll and before Sam can catch his breath, Tao holds him down by just a foot alone. He kneels down till his knee is almost digging into Sam's throat and says something that makes that asshat still.

You feel your heart still when Tao turns to you and beckons you over. Taking little steps at a time as your feet feel like lead you come to a stop next to Tao and Sam.

Sam is pale as a piece of printer paper.

"Tell her," Tao snaps at Sam.

"I-I-I am sorry. I won't bother you here or at the diner again. I promise you'll never see me again," Sam stutters and shakes like a leaf in a hurricane.

"And?" Tao presses.

"I-I'm a lowly parasite unworthy of your time and presence," he cries.

Tao nods then looks to you, "Anything you want to add?"

You're taken back by the soft look on his hard face. His eyes look worried even though his expression is still pissy offy.

You shake your head and cross your arms to hold yourself.

Tao moves off of Sam and forces him up and threatens to call the cops if he ever shows his ugly face on his beach again. Sam quickly scampers away, tripping several times as he makes his way to the parking lot.

There's a strange numbing feeling building in your chest that is suddenly washed away when Tao gently touches your shoulder.

"Come on, let me go look over those wounds," he nods towards the tower.

All you can do is follow him silently, still shocked about what just happened. You're so used to just going with the flow, dealing with whatever life gives you and fighting when you can. You've never had anyone come to your rescue. Not once.

"I have something that will clean the cuts where they got you with their fingernails and some band-aids. Unfortunately there will still be some bruising from when they were tugging at you," he says, a tinge of regret in his voice.

He leads you to the steps of the tower an has you sit down while he climbs up and grabs his first aid kit. You silently let him fuss over you as you try your best not to cry. Even though it's his job it's the first time anyone has treated you with this much kindness in a long while.

"Thank you," you mutter, finding it hard to speak.

Tao sighs and rubs some more antiseptic ointment on your arm, "I had thought my last conversation with those three would have been the last. Those males really are thick in the skull... I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you still came to my rescue," you try and smile but a stupid tear slips down.

Tao stills his hand, "Did that hurt?"

You shake your head, "No no, just uh got some sand in my eye. I'm fine."

He glares at you but sighs, "Alright then. Try and stay out of trouble and for the love of the goddesses please tell me if those parasites bother you again, in fact tell me if anyone bothers you while on my beach."

"Why?" you ask, feeling a bit strange that he'd go that far for your safety.

"Why?" he repeats, almost not sure of himself. "Because I like peace and you come here bringing chaos, more so than the kids whose parents are stuck to their devices or the teens who shoulder fight in the ocean."

"You mean chicken?" you ask, trying not to laugh.

"Whatever it's called! You humans have a major lack of self preservation and it's a wonder you've lasted this long," Tao stands, sounding frustrated as hell.

You dust yourself off and stand up too, "Well it's a good thing you're here then Mr. lifeguard... Because if it wasn't for you-"

You cut yourself off when the realization finally dawns on you. If it wasn't for Tao, things could have gotten a lot worse, you could have been hurt or dragged off the beach.

"If you weren't here, I might have been hurt a lot worse than just some bruises and cuts," you finish.

"If I got to you sooner you wouldn't be hurt at all," he replies, his face riddled with guilt.

"Yes well, what happened happened but you still saved me so stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control dammit, " you kick some sand in his direction making him roll his eyes.

"You are too forgiving and far too kind for your own good," he shakes his head.

Too forgiving? No, he did nothing wrong. Too kind, maybe. You always hated confrontation when you could avoid it so you just smiled through things and mustered on. What was the point in getting upset when anger never solved anything.

"You might be right about the kindness thing, but forgiving," you pause to laugh. "I wouldn't say I'm forgiving at all, probably more spiteful if anything."

Yeah that felt right but not in the correct way. If you were going to prove a point it was usually in the worst way possible.

"Noted," Tao raises a jet black brow. He has such an interesting look with his tan skin and white hair with black streaks on one side. It was like if a Hollywood action star and a kpop idol had a baby or something. He has black bands on his arms that start right after his shoulders and stop right above the elbow. His hair is slicked back most of the time but right now it's messed up from his one sided fight with Sam.

"So uh, I'm just going to go back over there and do what I was going to do and relax," you give him your most nervous goofy grin.

Tao, in his ever so Taoness just nods.

~~~~~

True to his word you never saw Sam at the diner again or Martin, but Kevin did come by ever so often. Kevin was less on the creep side now, apparently very very sorry for his behavior and how he made you feel uncomfortable.

It didn't excuse what he did even though he tipped extra now to make up for it whenever he did come in.

Your grandmother though started to get worse again. From your make up, to your weight, and now your resistance to wearing booty shorts to catch a man's eye.

"I'm not going to wear it and that's final. I told you time and time again I'm not comfortable wearing shit like that," you raise your arms and try to stomp off.

"You ungrateful bitch are you afraid of looking like a slut? There are models and actresses who wear this! Are you slut shaming them," your grandmother shouts at you as she practically walks on your heals.

"God no! I just don't want to wear! Can we just drop it please," you beg her.

"I'll drop it once you try it on and walk outside in it for awhile," she tosses the shorts at you and crosses her arms.

"FUCK. NO." you crumple them up and toss them back at her feet.

"You're supposed to humor me remember? That was part of our deal for you to live here," she crinkles her face and slaps your arms.

You crumple back a bit and bite your cheek as you curse yourself for ever agreeing to live with her.

"Not at the expense of my comfort. I'm not your fucking dress up doll," you say through your teeth.

"You're insufferable, fine we'll make a trade deal. Don't humor me, but you owe rent now. two hundred a month. I believe that's more than fair," she throws up her hands and kicks the shorts to the side.

"Fine, that's fine. I can do that much," you exhale in relief. "I gotta get ready for work ok?"

"Yes yes and... I'm sorry, you know I get hot real easy. It's why I'm alone. I just don't want you to be. I just want you to be happy and well," she sighs and picks up the shorts.

"I know," you respond, the numbness starting to set in at her very stereotypical response.

"I love you," she coos as she forces you into a hug.

You give her a limp hug so she won't have something else to bitch about and tell her you love her too.

She's always like this after you two fight, so loving, so caring like she used to be when you were a little kid. She's changed to much after granpop cheated on her. No one saw it coming, they had such a great relationship but that was just what they showed everyone. In private, they both ran hot and your granpop was no saint. He cheated since the dawn of their marriage, he just didn't get caught until ten years ago.

Ever since that happened you tried to keep yourself better guarded so you wouldn't have to hurt like your grandmother. Unfortunately you're a hopeless romantic with a record of getting your heart broken very easily. That's part of the reason for the drastic move.

~~~~~

"Fuck I hate these dead shifts," you groan as you clean your section for the third time this evening.

"Enjoy it while it lasts sweetheart. Once summer hits, you'll be begging for a dead shift," Denise says as she lounges against the door to the kitchen.

"I know, I barely survived the ass end of it," you roll your eyes.

Working here was a breeze to be honest, but working under Mikey the shift manager was hell. He loves playing Russian Roulette with shifts, especially close to holidays or birthdays. Jessica bitched him out so bad in front of everyone that if he scheduled her on her birthday or her son's birthday one more time she would burn this place to the ground.

Needless to say when your ex-wife raises hell to a full diner, you listen.

You've stuck onto her like glue ever since, you needed an angel here.

"Any plans after you cut out," she asks.

Oh yeah, you have plans. Change and skip your happy ass down to visit your favorite lifeguard. You can't help but smile at the thought.

"Mmm you do have plans," she grins back and wriggles her drawn on brows.

"It's not like that," you roll your eyes.

Yes Tao is attractive but you hardly know him. He's nice and predictable. Safe and just wants things to be at peace. He's someone you respect for that for sure, but you can't see yourself crushing over him. It would ruin the faint friendship you've slowly but surely built with him.

"It really isn't it. He's like you. The only other friend I have here and I don't need more than that right now," you explain.

She gives you a sad smile and nods, "I know baby girl, you're still resetting from all that bullshit."

Jessica is the only one who really knows your situation as you spilled your heart out to her a couple weeks ago after she took you out for drinks for your birthday. She held you and patted your head as you ugly cried for a solid hour.

"How about you, anything new and exciting," you quickly change the topic and Jessica beams.

"Oh you know, just a little date with Mr. Perfect," she grins.

"This will be date number five Jes, you're really serious about him aren't you," you tease.

She crosses her arms and tosses her hip a bit and smiles, "Listen, if you asked me a few years ago if I ever saw myself dating a wild fae with a beard that would make every biker in the states jealous then I'd say you're crazy. But here I am, about to go on my fifth date with my wild man and I'm as happy as a bee in a bouquet."

She goes over her past dates with you until Mikey interrupts saying that you both need to get back to work. His interference was cut short by Jessica poking him in the chest and lecturing him about how there's no reason for the diner to be fully staffed during a dead shift and got the both of you off hours early.

"There will come a day when neither of us have to come back to this shithole ran by assholes. Just assume that if I never return that I got swept off my feet to the fae wilds to have crazy hot wild fae sex everyday," she laughs as she shimmies into her leather jacket and lights a smoke away from you.

"And if I never return, assume that I magically saved up enough to start my own restaurant," you smile back.

That's been the big dream. A small tapas style restaurant that catered to humans and the fair folk. There are so few establishments opened that cater to their palettes and it's not fair. Food brings people together and you see it as a great way to mix the fair folk into your world. Problem is, you don't know a lot of fair folk aside from Tao.

Suddenly the lightbulb in your head goes off.

"That's it," you say under your breath before hugging Jessica goodbye and running towards the beach.

I can ask him what he likes to eat and start from there. This is doable! I just hope he doesn't mind playing a million questions.

~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Tao, are you up there?" you shout as you round the tower.

Without so much as a word Tao drops with a sandy thud.

"What did you forget now? It's too dark for sunscreen and too warm for a shawl. Water perhaps?" he guesses and turns to climb back up the tower but you quickly stop him.

"No no, none of that. I uh um... What do merfolk like to eat?" you ask.

"Why do you want to know? Is a male courting you or something?" he asks back.

"What? No no. It's just that one day I want to run a restaurant that serves food for the fair folk and you're the only one I know so...," you shrug to him and he blushes.

This big ass god like brick wall just blushed?

"Ah, I see," he clears his throat. "Well in that case I can create a detailed list of ingredients and dishes that suit a saltwater diet."

"That... That would actually be amazingly helpful. Wow... Thank you!" you grin but then remember that thing about courting.

"So what was that thing you meant when you asked if I was being courted?" you raise a brow.

Tao's eyes go wide and he has this nervous look on his face that you've never seen before. "It's uh, customary for the males of my kind to present a feast to a female they are courting. Usually a female has many suiters and picks whoever has the most impressive spread the privilege to continue courting her."

"Oh, that's interesting. I haven't heard much on mer culture and traditions so this is new to me. I'm sorry if the question made you uncomfortable," you apologize.

"No, no. It's just that no one has asked or even seemed a bit interested in my people's ways. They're just interested in me," Tao waves up and down to himself.

"Well if they were truly interested in you, they'd try to get to know you," you cross your arms, upset for him.

Tao nods and you can tell he's thinking really really hard about something until he shakes his head.

"How can you tell if someone is wanting to get to know you for reasons other than trying to get me to their... uh what is the human word for nest again," he snaps his fingers trying to think.

"Bed?" you ask.

"That's it, how would I know," he repeats.

"Hmm, that can be a tough one. Some people will really put in a lot of effort to make you think that they care when they just one a night of fun. Some will check in on you everyday till they finally get you into their bed and ditch you when they're done," you explain.

Tao looks disgusted, "And this too is normal behavior?"

"For the people who just want a good time and don't give a rats ass about someone's feeling, yes," you grimace.

"Is this from your personal experience or observation," he asks.

Tao's famous curveball question hits you right in the gut. You look away from him and hold yourself for a moment as the numbness builds.

"Yes," is all you manage to say.

"I am sorry. It seems my question was insensitive," he bows.

"It's fine, you're just curious. I'd rather help you not make the same mistakes that I had to. You're like the only other friend I have here," you admit.

Tao looks shocked when you say that, like you slapped him with a wet towel.

"You consider me a friend?" he finally asks after a long moment of silence.

Shifting a bit in the sand you bite your cheek and nod, "You're the only guy friend I have. I feel safe when I'm at the beach and you don't make me feel uncomfortable at all. I just... some things are hard for me to talk about ok?"

He nods and although his expression doesn't change much, there's a brightness in his eyes you've never seen.

"Is that ok? I mean if it's against your culture I understand it can be o-"

"No, it's alright. I just didn't think a human would want to be friends with me," he run his hand through his hair and stares at the ground.

"Well, I mean you do mean mug just about everyone you talk to but I know deep down you're probably just being on your guard and it's hard to be nice sometimes," you tell him.

"I see, so not being expressive keeps people away? Hmm what could remedy this without me having to give up my uh... mean mug," Tao cocks his head and crosses his arms.

"I'm not sure. Most people tend to like it when you're more welcoming and less upset looking all the time. Is your stoicism like some cultural thing?" you ask in turn. Turns out Tao is playing a million questions with you now.

"Yes. Typically we're only expressive with close friends, family, and our mates. They're the only ones who are supposed to see your true face," he replies.

"That actually sound reasonable and nice," you smile.

"Do humans not have something like that," he settles against the tower later, full into the conversation now.

"Yes and no. Some of us rely more on friends than family and vice versa. Some will rely on their mates alone if their family or friends aren't available. It can be all sorts of combinations really," you shrugs and lean against one of the pillars holding up the tower.

Tao looks up thoughtfully before his gaze settles out towards the ocean. There's a comfortable quiet between the two of you as the sun sets behind a cluster of grey clouds.

"Looks like rain," you comment.

"It's been smelling like a set of storms all week. Probably about to usher in some cold weather," Tao sniffs the air and sighs.

"Not a fan of the cold?" you shift in the sand and turn a little more towards Tao.

He shakes his head, "I grew up in a much warmer climate. If it ever got too cold we would sleep in our clusters or migrate. I can't do either here so I've just been adding more layers to my nest with every paycheck I get and buying the warmest clothes that fit me."

"I gotchya. I like some good mild weather myself. Not too hot or cold. By the way what will you do once winter hits? Beaches are usually closed once winter hits," you ask, realizing you might have to find another safe haven of sanity during that time.

"I'm not too sure, I haven't given it much thought," he admits. "At least I have a little time to consider a winter job so I don't have to hibernate."

"Yeah that would be... wait what?"

Part. 2>

[wrathofrats]

Thinking about Aether and Phantom quintosis lesson. It's all going well and all, Aether's letting Phant explore his head on his own a little because he's actually really talented y'know! And then he hits a particular spot and Aether goes brainless, practically drooling on spot if yk what I'm onto...

Everyone always comes to Aeth to shut their thoughts up, but now he's on the receiving end for the first time in a whiiiile and he's just gone.

Just a big brainless quint :)

Shakes you violently because I’ve been thinking about this ever since I saw it

(Warning that this is a little dubious but consent is implied and implied to have been discussed prior, just didn’t want it to come out of nowhere in case someone isn’t up for that 🫶

Also I made it weird bc confident phantom has been on my brain recently)

Aether talks him through it. Takes phantoms hands and places them on either side of his head, covering them with his own.

He trusts him under his own supervision, able to step in if something were to go wrong.

It’s easy, to aethers surprise. Phantom being able to pick at different memories, emotions, doesn’t take long for phantom to start trying to control his limbs.

“Am I doing that?” Phantoms eyes light up when aether hand moves slowly to the side.

“You are bug, good job”

Aether thinks it’s cute watching him get so excited over his powers.

Different tour memories flash in and out as phantom practically rummages through his brain like a storage bin. His face muscles twitch while phantom drags over certain nerves. Quintessence can be a dangerous game in the wrong hands, the power to as you please to someone only to be trusted in the right hands.

A particular wave of fuzz washes over aether as phantom gets a little more confident with the electricity he has wrapped around his mind. He feels cloudy, it’s not unfamiliar but he knows exactly what phantom is doing considering he’s done it to the other ghouls countless times before.

“Bug…..” aether warns taking a deep breath. He feels like there’s cotton behind his eyes, his breathing becoming deep and more manual.

Phantom prods again. A sharp buzz in the base of his skull and it’s hard for aether to get out the words to warn him again.

Phantom understands what he’s doing, especially considering this form of mind control has been done to him before. it’s the only reason aether hasn’t removed him yet but it’s a helpless and almost calming sort of feeling, looking up to see phantom smiling at him with his magic completely taking over his senses.

“Please let me take care of you?” Phantom tips aethers chin up to look at him, the other hand caressing his cheek. Aether can feel just a bit more quintessence slip in as he nods.

He’s completely brainless, barely a thought besides what’s directly in front of him and a small attempt to keep his breathing normal. It’s all he can do to keep his vision straight, mind full of static and he can’t help but smile at phantom, giggling slightly. A comfortable mindless state of pleasure.

“Never been able to have you all stupid for me have I aeth?” Phantom teases. It’s light hearted in nature but god it does something to aether. He could practically drool if he really wanted to, phantoms light teasing enough to have him salivating. Something so delicious about being able to have your thoughts shut up and being taken care of, aethers been craving it for a while.

A delicate hand pushes its way under aethers shirt. Phantom looks for any sign of protest before lifting it off of his body and discarding it on the floor beside them. Aethers immediately handsy, giggly and trying whatever he can to get phantom back on him. His limbs feel like they’re full of concrete as he tries to reach up to pull him closer. Time moves slow, almost too slow for him with the idea phantoms put into his head of him doing whatever he wants to him.

Phantom makes quick work of his own clothes while aether chews his lip, small moans escaping as phantom strips in his lap. He’s easy like this, hard and stupid and just desperate for anything from phantom he can get.

“You’re needy when you’re like this” phantom teases, reaching for the buttons on aethers pants. “Big and stupid like a whore should be”

Phantom grabs aethers hand, pulling it around his waist to finger himself with it, “your fingers are thicker than mine, gotta stretch myself out to take you baby” phantom gasps as he pushes aethers fingers into himself

It’s a tight stretch, phantom working himself with two of aethers fingers guided by his own, if he’s not careful he could probably just use aether like this and cum in his lap but oh, he wants to see how bad aeth can get when he sits on his cock.

Aethers streams out incoherent pleas and curses as phantom finally pulls him out, stroking him a couple times just to hear him whimper

“Fuck you’re much better like this, dumb and useful, just a dildo for me to use right?”

[mt-oe]

its finals season (again..) and huge projects for classes right now. can we get a stressed reader x modern mizu where reader is like actually tweaking out? like I mean pulling our energy shots, shivering hands, 'gotta lock in', hysterically crying on snapchat video and sending it to their groupchat for moral support type of tweaking out and the reader is going BANANAS over all the final papers, and studying for finals and mizu helps comfort reader?? i hope this would be a silly little write but also helpful to anyone going through finals season right now. much love! xoxo <3

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

To start this, I am absolutely sorry for being gone for so long. I had my thesis defense, practicals, laboratory works, deadlines, and my finals all in the span of two weeks AND I fainted twice, got sick twice, and nose bled a LOT.

I was chugging 3 cans of energy drinks a day, eating one meal per day, sleeping minutes less than how long I showered, and smoked quite a lot. Someone even caught me sleeping on the fire exit stairs (istg so embarrassing ;;). Honestly makes me wonder how I'm not six feet under by now.

To those who are going through their finals, please don't follow my lead. Vomiting at 3am from how dizzy you are while some Sepultura song plays in the background is NOT the experience you'd think it was. Try to plan when you'll tackle your work and get some sleep as much as you can, on your free time, on your commute. I swear, answering tests are SOO much easier when your vision isn't spinning or tunneling.

Chose to do this request first to remind you all to take care amidst your finals (or as a reward if your finals are finished, good job dear!).

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa <3

warning: not proofread, my corny jokes, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

Blue orbs watched as you cracked open another can of Red Bull. A small grunt leaving your throat as the fizzy caffeinated drink went down your esophagus. Was this your second? third..no wait..fourth?

Damn.

How are your blood vessels surviving this onslaught of caffeine you've been shoving down your system? She had no clue. But what she did know was that you've had enough. This wasn't healthy at all. Your lips were already as pale as the palms of your hands which were trembling to the point where you couldn't stop writing because that meant you'd feel the quivering of your hands even more.

The two of you had decided to slave off at Mizu's apartment for your finals. It was mostly Mizu dragging you there since your friends have been bombarding her to take care of you since she had the closest to what was considered a free schedule. T'was something about you freaking out and crying over the finals. She didn't have a Snapchat account so she didn't know.

Usually, she wasn't even interested in these stuff, but when Akemi showed her a picture of you with a thumbs up, holding a can of Monster, dark circles under your bloodshot eyes, tear streaks on your face, with the caption 'Boutta pull another Kay Chung tonight', concerned didn't even begin to describe what she felt.

Boutta pull a Kay Chung?

What or who was this Kay Chung anyway?

She knew you were a hard worker, probably one of the most studious people she knew, so she already expected you to be busy studying. What she didn't expect was the mess you were in.

The moment she stepped into your unit, cans of energy drinks, bottles of energy shots, cups of coffee, and random paper strewn randomly littered your apartment. The only source of light was your window and a small dim lamp you had.

Was that cup noodle container growing mold?

Ew.

It was like the Capital Wasteland in here, and she was the lonesome wanderer, awaiting the dangers to come.

And you were a radiated ghoul hunched over your desk with the emptiest gaze she has ever seen. Your head in your hands, as you scrunched your eyebrows together, trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with your equation.

Now she understood the bombardment of messages from Akemi and the others, and damn was she grateful for the heads up because you looked like you were at death's door and death... Death just thought you looked too pitiful to let in.

The two of you were now sitting on Mizu's carpet, books, papers, and gadgets on the smooth wood of the coffee table. In her mind, she thought a bit of companionship would comfort you like it usually did. But she was wrong.

The shaking grip you had on your pen and the occasional 'what the actual fuck?' or 'the hell?' already told her that you were too locked in to relax even just a bit. You looked like you were losing it.

Her eyes peered over your review sheet before she raised an eyebrow at how scattered your handwriting looked, numbers and symbols italicized to the left and to the right as if they were dancing and your solutions scattered. Add this value here..derive the formula there..problem 3's solution is somehow on the back of the paper even though problem 5 was solved on problem 1's spot. It looked like a shit show.

"What...problem is this for? You did it wrong." Her tongue clicking as a slender finger encircled a formula you derived wrong, making you look at her with a mildly bothered look. Your eyes tiredly scanned your review sheet, looking away to the side to blink the heaviness of your lids away, then looking back at it before letting out a strangled sounding groan, shoulders slumping back onto the sofa as you covered your eyes with your hands before looking at your own solutions again. "I don't fucking know..maybe it's for..umm..for..fuuuuuck," you sighed defeatedly, realizing that you couldn't understand your own handwriting either.

You wanted to strangle yourself so bad right now or like, strangle your professor until they give you a passing grade. Maybe the threat of arson would scare the university admins into passing everyone for the semester???? The prospect of being a sugar baby is starting to sound better than trying to finish this degree.

It wasn't like you were an absolute idiot. You could solve these problems no problemo. However, your vision was already lagging and tunneling. Whenever you tried to read the problem or your own handwriting, it was like your vision was hyper-focusing on one spot and the areas around it were...spinning or it'd focus on everything else EXCEPT the ones you wanted to focus on.

The amount of caffeine you had consumed wasn't even helping anymore. Instead of waking you up, you just felt jittery like a hyper-charged toy. Before you were sleepy and slow, now you were still sleepy but faster.

And when was the last time you even ate anyway? Was that moldy cup noodle your last meal? You didn't even know anymore at this point. You could barely feel anything aside from the fear of your impeding academic doom. Not even hunger was strong enough to stop you.

Mizu's eyebrows furrowed at how miserable you looked before sighing and pulling a sheet of paper out of her own notebook. "Here," she sighed out, sitting beside you and scanning each problem you had printed out before re-writing each question you looked like you struggled with. Her eyes occasionally glanced at you, unseen worry rising with every hitch of your breath and every twitch of your eyebrow as you looked at the questions she rewrote.

"Mizu..I don't want to do those all again," you groaned frustratedly, ruffling your hair own hair aggressively, strands falling to the carpet below. A hand held yours firmly, preventing you from tangling the ends of locks even more. "I'm going to teach you, dumbass. We can't have you failing and dying at the same time," she huffed, grabbing your calculator and placing it in front of both of you. She leaned closer to you, hand on your waist to pull you closer before taking the pencil and pointing to the first problem she rewrote.

"I'm not going to repeat my explanations, so listen well,"

...was what she said.

However, Mizu was a big softie when it came to you. Every time she caught you spacing out or having a hard time in general, she took her time and explained it to you again, even explaining it slower, simpler, or more detailed as needed. She really made sure that you understood the principle of the problems and the process of solving them, handing the pencil and calculator to you to make sure you actually understood her.

After a while, you were slowly starting to understand you earlier mistakes, and with her help, you were able to finally solve the review sheet. Thank god for hot smart women.

A look of amusement crossed her face as she watched you slump back onto the sofa with a loud sigh of relief. Shaking her head with a small lop-sided smile, she took the pen again before grabbing your laptop and searching for similar problems. "Here," she said, turning the device towards you. "Solve these. I'll be back in a bit."

You looked at her in confusion before letting out a tired groan. The exhaustion was starting to let itself be known through the heaviness in your lids. Another problem set was the last thing you wanted to do right now.

Oh wait.

Fuck, you still had to edit your methodologies and results, and you haven't even started on the discussion yet. Oh god...

'Better get started, I guess,' you thought with a defeated sigh. Muttering a string of curses under your breath, you picked up your pencil and calculator and began solving yet another set of hellish questions while the dark-haired woman stood up and walked off somewhere in her apartment. Silence filled the room aside from the aggressive scritching and scratching of lead against paper and the sound of clacking from your calculator.

Every now and then, Mizu would come back with something to comfort you. May it be a cup of water, a bigger pillow, a hair tie, or to charge your phone for you. She didn't really speak though, fully wanting you to focus on your work.

It was like her quiet little way of telling you that she was here and that she cared for you.

Amidst your problem solving, the smell of something being fried hit your nose, making you look up. It was a bit oily, but at the same time, homely and savory. Your stomach growled slightly at the smell, reminding you of that uncomfortable feeling of hunger that you were somehow able to ignore during your study sessions.

Just as you had finished writing your answers, Mizu came out of the kitchen with a bowl of rice and a plate of what seemed to be fried fish. Kinda burnt but maybe that's a charm point...or something. At least she tried.

She set it down on a clear space on the coffee table and gently urged it towards you. "Here," she mumbled, looking at you expectantly. You stared at the food she prepared, snorting a bit at the charred skin, some bits missing which obviously stuck to the pan while she was frying it. "Err..Mizu...?"

"Don't mind how it looks just..just eat, okay?" she groaned, sounding a bit embarrassed, a bit of pink dusting her cheeks. Her eyes looking away as her hand went up to cover half her face. You couldn't help but laugh a bit. Mizu? Embarrassed? God that woke you up, didn't it?

The sound of your laughter made her feel even more embarrassed but at the same time relieved. Your laugh was so fucking cute. She was glad that you were starting to sound a bit more like your usual self. Hell, you were smiling now. A big improvement compared to the face of misery you were making earlier.

Eventually, your laughter subsided upon the realization sinking into you. She really did all this just to take of you. Dragging you to her apartment, tutoring you, fetching things for you, cooking for you...

She really does care. Doesn't she?

Your hands picked up the chopsticks before breaking into the soft flesh of the food in front of you, picking off the bones before taking a bite. It was salty, the char even made it a bit bitter, and for god-knows-why, even a bit spicy?? But it tasted so good to you. Heavenly, dare I say.

As you continued to eat, bite after bite and scoop after scoop, the shakiness in your hands slowly calmed down. You couldn't help but look up at your friend who was now checking your answers, the ghost of satisfaction making itself known through the barely visible smile she had. "Mizu..."

She looked over at you, raising an eyebrow to indicate that she was listening. "Thank you for uh..taking care of me," you said shyly, giving her a small smile. A low chuckle escaped her throat as she shook her head slowly as if in amusement. "At least you're not shaking like a leaf anymore," she joked, followed by you letting out a small 'hmph!', making her chuckle yet again.

Though she wouldn't tell it to you right now, she'd be more than happy to take care of you anytime you wanted or needed it.

The sound of your pen tapping on the paper filled the room again as her eyes narrowed at your answers, checking it carefully. After a while, she handed the paper back to you, looking very much satisfied. "Looks good," she said, eyes watching the proud smile on your face. "How 'bout a reward?...Some rest I suppose?"

Your smile faltered at the sound of rest. "I can't...my manuscript is due in a couple of days and I haven't even finished editing my methodologies and results," you explained, opening the files for each of your chapters. "The data isn't even tabulated in the required format. It looks like shit."

She stood up from her spot and sat next to you, placing a hand on your head to pat it gently as she looked at the screen. Her eyes narrowed again while you scrolled up the file for her before she sighed. "Yeah, it does look like shit," she agreed before suddenly grabbing your laptop and setting in front of her. "Go and take a nap or something. I'll do whatever I can to...whatever this is."

"But Mizu, this isn't even your field. I can't—" She cut you off with a finger to your lips before gesturing towards the sofa behind the both of you. "Nap," she ordered firmly. You sighed before standing up and laying down on the sofa. You knew there was no use arguing. When Mizu makes up her mind, she's deadset on it.

Her eyes scanned your figure for a moment, taking in every curve of your body and the way your face relaxed. Then, she took off her jacket and draped it over you, before giving you a small loving pat. Before you could even open your mouth to protest, she immediately shushed you and turned to your manuscript, scanning over it.

Your eyes observed the way her eyebrows furrowed and the way her eyes darted from word-to-word. The sound of her typing and clicking filling the room, oddly relaxing you.

It didn't take long for you to drift off to sleep. And for the first time since hell week started, you finally relaxed.

No frustration, no stress, just...sleep.

You did nap for hours longer than expected though.

Don't worry.

Your methodologies were now updated, results properly formatted, and ideas in bullet points for your discussion were laid out in a new file. Even your references were fixed.

Damn, you really wanted to smooch Mizu reaaal hard after this.

[weebsinstash]

(Thank you for reminding me bc this post was literally starting to get buried in my drafts. I gotta finish some of the posts piling up in here lol, I started this months ago)

Ok ok ok ok ok so like. I'm on my "unwilling red string of fate" shit so fucking hard right now and I thought of a story concept that really hits all my buttons for drama and jealousy and just, tension!

but god wouldn't Velvette GENUINELY be one of the worst people to be stuck with, especially if you're older than her? Like as a woman, being older than her? I've been imagining scenarios for the past several days and this bitch would have me FUMING and I gotta emphasize now that this is like, a sadistic bullying yandere kinda scenario

You've been in Hell for just a few months, managing to get a job, being lucky enough to find a roommate to help with bills, and one day, you finally get your red string of fate when you're out at work. Oh gosh, you work kind of a demeaning job though, whether it be fast food or retail,and you start feeling anxious. Oh gosh, what if your soulmate doesn't like you? You're at work and you're kind of sweaty and... and...

THE Velvette of the Vees, a fucking OVERLORD, is clicking her heels right up to you and giving you a very obvious look up and down that's so BITING that you already want to cry. She just steps uncomfortably close to you and examining your every pore with obvious distaste, "you've GOT to be kidding me. YOU'RE my soulmate?!!"

Like for real, I would immediately shift gears, "ok well I guess we're both disappointed because I was hoping for a man with a REAL job" like, for real I know she's an Overlord and actually very very successful in her career but in this scenario she's several years younger than you and probably shorter too and like. I'm a bottom. That's such a turn off. Like I'm sorry, you're insulting me and calling me old and I'm like not even 10 years older than you? OK you fucking iPad baby, get your sticky fingers and short attention span out of my fucking space

Can you imagine HER AUDACITY to insult you immediately upon meeting you, criticizing your skin, your hair, your body, but she's still rolling her eyes, "ugh, well, come on, I've got better things to do than mill about here" "what?" "Did I stutter or are you hard of hearing at your age? I've got things to do and I'm not leaving you here. Clock out and get your shit or whatever and let's go"

I would just. Immediately tell her fuck you to her face. The second her disrespect comes out, that's it. Ok honey, go back to playing dress up and playing on your phone. I have a truck to help unload--

and she's calling her security goons to MANHANDLE YOU OUTTA THERE. Personal agency, you're almost 30, what's all that? She doesn't give a FUCK. You're her soulmate and she doesn't want other people or YOU getting into any weird shit and she maybe just maybe despite her absolutely nasty attitude is actually quite pleased to meet you and thinks how huffy and upset you're getting is just SO CUTE, like this bitch is PROUDLY suddenly intruding on your personal space to take a selfish with both of your hands in it showing the red string and upload it to her social media, "found my #redstringsoulmate! She's a fixer-uppet but I like a good challenge 💅" like BITCH I'LL KILL YOU? ON YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA PAGE?

She absolutely weaponizes her influence and position of power over you. You disappear? She has a group chat of people who roam the city looking for the latest hot goss and one of them just so happens to be in the bar you ran off to. Does she think you're getting a little too attached to another person? She absolutely destroys their reputation, and I mean that. She will bully you to goddamn tears and be borderline panting in the exhilaration of making you cry, but then she sees you sneaking off to secretly seek comfort in someone else? Velvette overhears one of her models saying that you're way too nice to be stuck with someone like Velvette? She hears someone imply that YOU are too good for HER? She gets them fired and punished in a huge public incident that she makes sure you're there to witness to conpletely destroy your bond with them. Wouldn't it be like soooooo funny and coincidental if that person turned out to have a secret SMS account where they bully and shit on you? Velvette will have Vox plant that shit if she has to

She'll spend time negging you and breaking you down so she can fix you up in her image. She'll have your old clothes BURNED "because they're too fucking ugly and cheap, you'll make me look bad" amd starts to completely control your wardrobe. She insists on having your makeup done when you go out, often applied by her own hand, meaning she's always in your face, looking st you uncomfortably close. You could just be in your room applying your own skincare with you own money and she'll look over your collection with intrigue and say something along the lines "you could've been a mildly popular skincare influencer if you had died before forming all those ugly wrinkles" and you just hit her with "and you'd be mildly fuckable if you were a few years older" WHICH ACTUALLY GETS TO HER BTW, SHE CAN'T STAND IT WHEN YOU POINT OUT HER "FAULTS" OR ANYTHING YOU DON'T LIKE THAT SHE CAN'T CHANGE

I just. Ok. Listen. Listen. IMAGINE HER PIVOTING BECAUSE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AND SHE'S INTO IT??? like one day she's really pushing you and grabs you by your wrist when you try to leave and you SNAP, you're older, you're bigger, and you were working manual labor so you're STRONGER. You just push her back against the nearest wall and have her by the throat, squeezing, towering over her, "don't you EVER put your hands on me, you disrespectful NASTY little girl!!" Tearing into her verbally before you let her go once you realize, hey you're kinda choking her, and she's. Into it. You're completely overpowering her and face to face with her with such fierceness in your eyes that it's awakening something in her. She's breaking out in a sweat and watches you storm off where previously she might have chased after you to continue the argument.

Like honestly... fucking bully bottom yandere Velvette who turns from a sadist into a masochist and starts actually really liking when you dig into her and even causing fights or confrontations so you talk down to her or even hurt her. Bully yandere Velvette who watches you actually stand up for her and one hit KO some creep who was aggressively coming onto her and getting really scary about it while the two of you are out and, oh what's this, she suddenly wants to design a new line of clothing, suddenly more, functional, a little masculine even. She watches you pulverize a guy twice your size and reveal you have like Uber Strength and later that week she's coincidentally having you try on a leather jacket "that was totally supposed to be tried on by another model but that bitch didn't show up today so you'll have to do" and it surprisingly fits you absolutely perfectly and... it's actually.... to your tastes???

You're beating up some fucking guy because even if you hate this bitch, you see a younger smaller woman having a grown ass man come up with the intention of hurting her and it just activates your protector instincts, and at some point you wonder why she's not yelling at you for creating some sort of massive scene in public and she's just. Sitting there holding her phone horizontally, "what? You can keep going. I won't stop you" and biting her lip as you proceed to pulverize the guy

Of course, she IS the co-creator of the love potion, so obviously I can't help but think of a Velvette who isn't so patient that you're 'holding out on her and playing hard to get' and decides she needs to 'get you in the mood'. Or, on the other hand, she knows you're tougher than her and needs to get you kinda doped up anyways and you're just coming to all tied up and completely helpless and at her mercy. I just. See so many potential dynamics. Her being taller than you, you being taller, her being the older one, but, in general I just see her being into artistic types of bondage like shibari and forcing you to model different things for her (even if you hate the style or its forced fem or anything like that) including lingerie and even the really really horny kinds 😳

she's always taking photos that you're never sure whether she's saving for her private collection or if she's taking things to use for blackmail, although she's never posted anything of you In That Way so far. Too jealous to share those kinds of pics, perhaps? (She will threaten you with it though. God do you think she could. Ask Vox to stage some kind of hoax or fake app where it looks like to you certain things of you are leaked and Velvette makes you beg and promise to be good for her to take them down and they're, fake, never even up to begin with. She's punking you.)

I guess as a final note, did any of you ever play, what was it, dressupgamesforgirls when you were growing up? I like the idea of a Reader who, to match Velvette's powers, can pull up an "inventory" or "wardrobe" and you can mix and match and swap out your outfits and makeup with magic. Of course, this will only fuel Velvette's already OVERWHELMING constant urge to dress you up and style you, but even if you try to keep things a secret, she's got such a close eye on you that you'll never keep anything from her for very long. Velvette may be the one who's an actual doll but YOU'RE the one who's gonna wind up played with like a toy

[sailingshipz09]

Because @stellariders & @chicagofires are fueling this fire & I have very minimal self-control, here we fucking go.

First, let me preface this rant with the following context. This situation triggers me so much because I am a WOC in a predominantly male industry so I see myself in the struggles that Stella has been exposed to & it's simply not fucking fair. So this take will be framed from my POV...Perspective & Perception. The fact that I have to preface this rant with the above statement instead of just saying how I feel is exactly the fucking point I'm about to make 🙃

(Grab a snacky snack)

"You have to be what?"... you have to be 2x as good, work 3x as hard, to receive HALF of the recognition, praise, grace, & chances. They can fail upwards or even have a promotion fall into their hands "cough cough" whereas you have to drive yourself up the wall just to prove that you're worthy of the opportunity. Because ONE mistake can & will follow you throughout your entire career. & that constantly plays in the background, like static when it comes to Stella Kidd. & I feel like Stella knows that, which is why she came in, did her job, did it damn good, & proved that she can hang with the best of the best at 51 but it was never quite enough for some people & i wonder why. There's never been a moment where she has been above reproach or criticism. How can she be out of fear of being labeled difficult, aggressive, or hard to work with as the only "broad on truck" & let me be clear I'm using that term & phrase because thats exactly what Hermann said when she joined truck 81.... yuck! Anyway, how can she make a mistake when the few mistakes she has made have followed her. She fucked up in 7x02 why is it S10 & Casey if implying she can't come with him when Severide & squad 3 were under water because she might be to emotionally charged. (LOL excuse me but didnt you jump out of a moving firetruck when your poor Sylvie was hurt, hypocrite much?) Didn't see Brett or Violet volunteering to hop on the boat & Stella is a trained paramedic or EMT so she would have been an asset. She messed up in S8 so why did they just take away her teaching at the academy versus addressing burnout & how to prioritize her time to be able to do both, because she was & is fully capable of doing both she just needed direction & support...She made a mistake in S10 by going mia & she apologized profusely for it but it still felt like Kelly held back & almost iced her out a bit longer than necessary. But in S9 when he royally messed up she immediately took him back & told him she wasn't going to let him get away again even though it wasn't her fault, he iced her out to begin with. Oh not even touching on the fact that him icing her out in S9 absolutely fucked with her confidence in her abilities to the point she almost skipped out on the LT exam.....🙂

When her CAPTAIN no less saw her burning it on all fronts in S8.. what did he do? How did he act? Was it with compassion or care, or did he get snappy & reprimand? Did Stella argue, talk back, or provide excuses? No, instead, she took accountability for her actions & tried to do better even though she KNEW she was drowning & overwhelmed. Instead of creating a safe space for her to be like hey captain, I'm struggling prioritizing how you manage she went internal & pushed herself to the brink of self exhaustion that she could have killed herself or someone else.

So let's talk about how Gallo on the other hand came in & had his own share of potential life or death mistakes with Casey & how he was down right disrespectful to Pelham & how he was inappropriate in the attitude & tone he took with Stella when questioning her about Carver. I never saw fucking reddit think pieces on how disrespectful, cocky, arrogant or annoying he was. Nope! He got a pass & a slap on the wrist time & time again. Casey even sat down with him, bought him a beer & they talked it out. So why couldnt Stella get that same grace? Yet when Stella very respectfully told Pelham "hey hesrd you are a great ff but I'll have to see for myself" parts of this fandom erupted, calling her all types of jealousy , entitled, etc. Never once saw Stella defy Pelhams commands or undermined his leadership. I dis however see her lay her busding career down on the line for a man she barely knew but did it because it was the right thing to do.

Casey was ready to cut Gallo loose on HIS FIRST fuck up after Boden told Casey he didn't want him at 51 because he was reckless. Had it not been for Boden providing Casey with Gallos' backstory, he would have cut him loose, i believe. Funny how Boden had to tell Casey about Gallos family history but Stella took it upon herself to try & work with & get to know Carvers backstory AFTER Boden, her mentor, her father figure & CHIEF told her who her next replacement on 51 was going to be.... Funny how the most turnover truck saw in 10 years was Jimmy, Gabby (chose not to return to truck) & Otis yet Stella is 2.5-3 years in & she's had to navigate through Mason, Gallo, Gibson, while dealing with shit from Carver & Damon.... you see the picture I'm painting here!?

Correct me if I'm wrong, but outside of Carver... who else has Boden forced his officers to take on their rig when they were explicitly against it..... I'll wait. Oh, but because "he's 51 material," you have to find a way to manage his bullshit & if you rewatch S11, Carver had a lot of BS. And I know we like Carver now because they abandoned the I have a crush on my married LT storyline, but I had actually forgotten how bad he was as an EMPLOYEE!

He is hot tempered & showcased high levels of aggression & anger in the workplace. Imagine Stella getting upset & punching or throwing things. Yelling at her LT or engaging in behavior that would have landed her in jail. Did we forget that this incident in S12 is Carvers' second physical altercation with a civilian... Never thought I'd be referencing Emma Jacobs, but one incident in the file is a hiccup.. two looks like a pattern of him not being able to control his temperament. We've seen Stella drunk ONE time because she'd been transferred out & they acted like she was being biligerant (go back & watch the scene & just look at how they're looking at her). Carver, however, is allowed to get drunk thrown in jail, call his LT to bail him out & Stella's supposed to what? Take it, leave her damn job in the middle of the night just for him to not be apologetic at ALL & then tell her oh this needs to stay been us. LMAO EXCUSE ME WHAT!!!!? & it would be one thing if this was a one off but AGAIN nope later in the SAME season he didn't just get himself into a physical altercation but dragged Gallo, Mouch, & Ritter into it also because he refused to REGULATE & walk away.

But wait, there's more. Remember how he went off on his LT in the locker room because he was upset & then proceeded to get drunk & call out on one shift & NCNS on another leaving her with no time to find a decent floater... & even after Kelly explicitly told her that she would lose no respect if she cut him loose, what did she do... she went to his apartment to check on him, make sure he was alright & gave him ANOTHER chance. Matt Casey, Kelly Severide & Hermann would absolutely never & I'm not saying it's a bad thing that Stella gave him so many chances what I'm saying is i don't feel like her reasoning behind all the chances were actually her own but more so rooted in not wanting it to be a failure on her part in the eyes of Boden. & that for me is problematic as hell.

Even in S12... for Carver to get into that restaurant brawl & immediately take furlough afterwards was just such a cowardly move because here you are AGAIN leaving your LT high & fucking dry on truck during a crirical time no less with Boden being up for that promotion!

Now, moving into this Damon storyline, I'm going to reserve a majority of my thoughts until we actually get to see it play out. However, one thing in the finale that was alarming to me was Stella's conversation with Violet. I interpreted it as Stella had all intentions of cutting Damon loose. He was a floater, she owed that man no loyalty & she specifically said she was in no rush to lock anyone down permanently after the Gibson issue. However, again, it felt like Stella decided to keep him on longer because of other external factors. ie: Carver leaving her high & dry again & Kelly seemed to like him. Those to me aren't good enough reasons because she's not making decisions that honor her experience with this man rather than those around her.

The reality is that Stella could have lost her command or even worse because of that brawl. That man could have reported them to the CFD brass, called the cops, blasted them in the media & SUED the CFD. & the first thing they would have asked Stella was why she did not have control of the scene or her direct reports. They would have hung this on her & the old hags at CFD would have been like see this is why women shouldn't be officers." Blah blah blah. The repeecussions would have been so much greater for Stella & could have derailed what shes worked so hard for & the fact that Carver & Damon don't get that irks me because they should have NEVER put her in that position to begin with. You don't bring reproach on your leader especially when your leader has run through walls to protect you, bailed you out of jail, hell thrown herself on top of you to shield you from a blast, etc.

& so in conclusion my next gripe is with the writers & showrunners because I wonder if they know. I wonder if they know & they're choosing to reinforce these stereotypical experiences without effectively addressing them. I wonder if they know that they're not romanticizing it all & that its not cute or funny but infuriating that it feeds a part of this fanbase that's actually disgusting & rooted in misogyny. Or maybe they don't know & it's a mixture of unconscious bias/ ignorance.

Regardless, it's 2024 & I'm tired of it! 😫 I'm all for showing the reality & challenges that women or woc in the CFD face on a day to day but I feel like why not use it as a platform to show that just because it's embedded in the systems doesn't make it right nor does it make a requirement for Stella or any other female officer to have to endure the shit. She should be able to fucking fire or discipline Carver, Damon or whoever on HER rig without being questioned on whether or not her emotions or personal experiences are clouding her judgment because she's earned that right. She studied, she worked her ass off, she took the test, she passed & she's the LT. She shouldn't have to explain why she gave Carver or anyone certain assignments because guess what? No assignment is too big or small when lives are on the line, right? She shouldn't have to feel obligated to keep Damon on her rig just because now he's her long lost BOL that withheld the truth from her his LT & even when he decided to come clean it wasn't to her his LT. I am praying that is not the narrative they push in S13 but tbh I wouldn't be surprised because they've already set the groundwork for it. She shouldn't have to explain her reasoning or endure another year of unprofessionalism on her rig all because the patriarchy will get upset that a woman is leading/ discipling men. Reading the comments on how Stella was disciplined then in the finale really bothered me because yall can't be serious! Stella had ever right to be upset, to express that frustration & disappointment with them because at the end of the day, that was her scene, her fire fighters & her responsibility as the officer in charge.

It feels like the men on the show are allowed to have their emotions, their traumas, their demons & it be brushed over or romanticized with little to no consequence. However, that same grace is not extended to the strong female leads that have just as much trauma, pain, or demons. They vilified Gabby for hers & they try to do the same to Stella. it's not fair because if they were males, we wouldn't have the conversations of "Stella leading Grant on" "Stella putting people lives in danger" or "Stella's on a powe trip & has let her rank go to her head"

I know that was a lot & if you made it to the end of this rage rant, thank you. This has been something I've been sitting on since S11 & tbh it feels good to get it out! 🥹

[chemicallady]

I LOVE YOU TO DEATH BUT IM DROWING

Part 1

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem Reader

Content Warning: smutty content; implies sexual situations and strong language. Also, mentions to mental issues (anxiety, primarily).

Summary:  this your first job as merch girl in tour with a band. Its also the first time for you to fall in love so dramatically for someone that is almost a stranger to you. Someone that you really aren't able to get out of your head. What is Noah Sebastian hiding behind his dark eyes? This description is so cringe that I'm embarrassing myself. Its hard to keep up with the tour routine and your feelings at the same time.

A/N: HI HI HI SWEET LEMON PIES! so I beg you to be gentle because 1. this is my first smut ff and I dont know if I got it or not and 2. I'm not a native speaker. I'm trying my best to find my own place amoung the INCREDIBLE writers of this fandom. Of course what I'm describing is all fictional, I (unfortunately) don't know Noah personally , neither the rest of the band and crew. I have a lot of respect for them all and admiration for the work of art they're doing on tour rn. My intentions are far from being offensive towards them, I only want to deliver some good time to Noah's bitchies like me here on tumblr. I really hope I will! My pm are always open for opinions or talking about the band. Have a good one!

Enjoy

One hands slowly caresses every inch of naked skin on your back while the pace of the pounding slow down a bit. Your body is covered in a thin layer of sweat; you're heavily panting, your legs and arms shaked by a slight flicker. There is nothing that can stop your hair from falling on your face, but your vision is still clear enough to get another quick look the mirror on front of you. The sight brings you to repress a moan, biting your lips. Bended on the small table, partially , you look like a desperate mess. The pleasure you're experimenting is unbearable at this point. You could fall any time soon if it wasn't for the man that is taking you from behind. Noah looks merciless in this moment, while he is holding you still with a firm grip. His hips inconter you naked skin in an harmony of slaps, while he is fucking you. And that's the only sensible sound in the room because you have to keep it quiet; the green room is one wall next the small fitting room in which the two of you are hiding.

You don't have much time. Someone eventually will notice that one of the merch girls is not around before the opening of the gates and your colleague can't cover for you forever.

But in this very moment you're unable to think about anything but the gorgeous man that is rearranging your interiors. His eyes look pitch black in the soft light of the dressing room, his whispers and exhalations are low and scratchy.

He's the hottest thing you have ever laid your eyes on and he is only for you now. You're feeling like he is consuming your soul along with your body.

In a crescendo of intensity his hand comes between your legs, rubbing your clit in a hurry, following the movements of his hips.

He is close and so you are. For you its gonna be your second orgasm in less than fifteen minutes and its mental.

You can feel a pool of familiar warm forming inside your belly while your body starts to tense. The ecstatic pleasure of the orgasm starts to run through your veins, your walls are getting tight around his erection. When you come, it is impossible for you to hold back a sob.

For a second, your vision blurs, and your legs are about to give up. With your last strength, you hold yourself up on the table just enough to let only your breast touch the cold surface of the table while the pounding becomes erratic. His body tenses, rocking in you just twice more, and them he releases. The grip on your hips gets loose but still firm enough not to let you go on the floor.

Ironic enough, this is your favourite part; he gives you the time to get yourself together, landing his head between your neck and your shoulder. The scent of his hair is intoxicating, and all you want is being able to turn around and give him a passionate kiss. But you know it won't happen. Not today, at least, because in the moment he is sure you gained enough strength, he pulls out and starts to fix his clothes. You do the same, still in silent. With the side of your eye, you watch me taking off his condom, while he is cleaning himself with a paper tissue. He hands you one for yourself, avoiding to meet your gaze, and them he fixes his jeans.

《 Are you feeling good?》 , he asks with a raspy voice. It seems like the first time you've heard him speaking today. You are able to nod while you're fixing your panties and skirt, but you're not really into small talks.

He nods as well before leaving the room first, after sharing a shy smile that makes you uncomfortable for a second...

《 y/n? y/n??? You have a costumer.》

Steve's voice brings you back to reality. You guys are pulling away all the merch unsold but some people are still leaving the place, so with a smile that is a bit forced, you turn to them, asking which t-shirt they like to see closer and the size.

It happens all the time. You zone out without any intention since Orlando. That tour date was the one who changed everything.

It was an easy job, in the beginning. You simply know a guy that knows another, who knows Steve, the sales manager for Bad Omens, a metalcore band you kinda like since a while now. Easy job, maybe a bit too much frenetic, but nothing unbearable. You can see different cities, gigs and get a decent pay while having some fun, since you're have no responsability except smiling and selling as much as possible.

Noah got you the evening you met him, a couple of days before the first tour date. You were miserable after a long flight to Los Angeles but he had eyes only for you. He was kind and funny, almost goofy in a couple of occasions. All the members of the crew and band gave you a warm welcome, but Noah was the nicest one. The two of you clicked immediately. He has a lot in common with you, not only music and gaming.

He was the first one to make you feel like you have always been in the crew, part of their big family. What was born as a nice friendship evolved quickly into something even closer, and that's the deal, for you. It was too quick. You couldn't help but look for him any minute of your waking time. Before you could even realise it, you were sitting on his lap, starting a kiss. The kiss you started was followed by his hands on your body and then to a lot of pre show sex.

But this blind passion took off everything else. The laughs, the light chatting, the smiles. Your complicity came to an end, and you didn't see that coming. Noah can barely look at you now. He almost stopped talking to you. And this is heartbroken because you believed you were building something. You never hidden how much you like him, it's evident even without saying it out loud. But you've never thought that it could have been a problem.

Noah Sebastian is beautiful and successful, but he is a man made by flesh and bones. He is human. You are not the type that idiolazed famous people. With this mindset you made your move....

.... the move you're now regretting so much.

《 you have done an amazing job tonight, I havent see you keeping a break》 Steve congratulates you when your last client is served. 《 go and get some beer, I can finish with the boxes with Mandy, right?》

Your coworker barely nod, while she is closing one of the boxes. She is the one who covers for you every day, but she's getting bitter because you still have to tell her what exactly she is covering. The truth is that you're a bit ashamed. You feel like you're selling yourself to the devil, but nothing could help. There is no way you will stop having these incounters with Noah. Maybe in this way you have a chance to fix it. Maybe he will tell you one of these days what he is hiding from you.

What he's ashamed of.

Why hes holding up so much.

But it's not today, and you can tell by the look he gives you when you enter the room where the crew is gathering. Matt cheers you with a can of beer, asking about the tonight selling and if you had any problem. Then he invites you to pick up a slice of pizza and relax a bit. The obvious choice for you is sitting next to Folio, so you can listen to his excited chronicle of the show.

Noah is just a couple of seats away from you but it feels like an ocean apart. You don't even bother to look at him.

You know he won't exchange the gaze...

{ part 2 coming soon }

[mayakimayahai]

Sona?

Part 2 (prequel to kill lady)

__________________________

An: 3 weeks later...sorry okay I'm sorry but yeah okay I don't have an excuse, the first half was hard to write and the second half I wrote in one sitting so yeah- well enjoy (this is a mess I'm sorry)

Summary: they see each other for the first time and can't take thier eyes off each other

__________________________

She put a hand against her forehead imitating a shield in hopes that it will protect her from the mighty sun

She wasn't used to Bangalore's weather but one thing was clear, her gaze shifted down to look at herself

The saree was not a good decision

She was told to disguise herself to the point where nobody should even think that she could be capable of kill someone

A white saree and her glasses that she wore after a century felt weird but they were perfect to portray her as the innocent lamb

But an assassin always knows

You can never really hide your true nature

This is what she was born to do

What she was taught to do since she was a child

She stood patiently despite the sun hurting her eyes, tapping her feet against the pavement she looked back at her hotel

She was just a few steps away from the entrance waiting for her employer- or rather his son she was told?

She checked her watch for the millionth time taking deep breaths to keep herself calm while she looked down the road in anticipation

She got a call this morning telling her to get up and dressed, they were going to see him today

She didn't think much of it, thier sources told them that they guy the hired to kill the previous owner had decided to take the throne for himself

Her job here was to eliminate that threat to their throne

Should be easy enough

Her curiosity and impatience was growing with each passing second

The winds blew with the screeching of the tires as atleast ten luxury cars came into view making her tap her foot against the road waiting as she slowly lost patience

About four cars passed her the fifth one stopping near her, she glared as he rolled the window down

Her jaw clenched, knuckles almost white as he looked at her raising an eyebrow as to why she wasn't already in the car

He looked her top to bottom, inviting his own death "get in the car will you, we don't have all day" he said wearing his sunglasses back

The tone in his voice implied that he owned her or something, she took a deep breath

These rich kids really needed someone to knock some sense into them

Just a pair of tweezers and she would show him what begging for death feels like

She gave him a tight smile opening the door and getting inside

She wasn't hazel

I'm a professional

Yes professional. She repeated again and again in her head

But kamal had much a punchable face she was genuinely curious as to how he had survived this long, especially with a personality like that

"They sent you?" He said eyeing her up and down again making her clench her jaw as she flashed one of her business smiles again

"You have read my file yes?" She asked with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes

Why him? Couldn't they have sent someone decent?

They were really testing her

"I don't think you'll be able to do that job" he huffed a laugh "i mean look at your fragile little self" he shook his head "koi tumhe kyu bhejega?" He said

She smiled looking at her hands in her lap "kyunki tumse tumhara kaam nahi ho raha"

The roads weren't the best here and she wasn't exactly a fan of them but they were working in her favor today

As a bump in the road approached she dug her heal into the car mat while his forehead hit the shearling wheel making her smirk as she looked out her window

The sun still shined high as she looked at the unfamiliar land they were approaching

Giant rocky mountains, nothing but dust and dirt

No sign of life

Her eyes turned to him with a questioning look on her face

Deep breaths maya deep breaths

We don't kill our employers

There was noticing in sight

The place was a dead land

She had half her mind thinking this was an ambush ready to pull out her knife at any point, but why?

An involuntary gasp escaped her lips

Her eyes almost popping out at the sight infront of her

She had tried to paint a picture in her mind about what this place would look like

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her

Did mines actually look like this? Her eyes ached from all the dust flying off with the cars but that didn't stop her from looking out the window

How could she get herself to stop when

It was a whole another city

In the middle of nowhere

She was after a man that was sent to kill the owner of this place

Alone

A single man killed the holder of the throne in his own territory

She had more respect for him than these incompetent people who couldn't do the job themselves

If she had morals she could never bring herself to kill that guy

But alas

Money concurs all it seems, And she had a job to do

She liked power

And someone who was able to acquire so much of it? She was sure she would like him too

That's part of the reason to took this mission

He was a challenge she was sure she would enjoy

The car stopped making her look up to see an impressive maybe a little too excessive mansion which seemed more like a castle from where she stood

Her eyes shined with delight at the sight

They got out of the car making her return to her senses

She was still mesmerized by it all but she had better things to worry about at the moment

She adjusted her glass hitching them higher on her nose while he stood near her fixing his suit

"Yeh sab" he pointed at the castle infront of them "mera hai" he smirked making her huff out a laugh

She liked people who had determination and confidence

But this guy? He was overconfident

If he could have all of this then they wouldn't have needed that guy or her for that point

They came to a stop near three much older men, two of them eyeing her like she wasn't from earth

"If anyone can do the job it's her" Andrews assured Kamal and guru pandiyan who looked maya from top to bottom

He scoffed looking at andrews the disappointment clear on his face, he turned to her "you think you can take the one who challenged us all?" He huffed walking ahead

She took a sharp breath letting her hair rest on her back, the old man with a cross nodded at her as if telling her it was time to become madhura

She huffed shaking her head

They were making it seem like she didn't know how to do her job

The were all so worked up, the nervousness was clear on thier faces even with thier best attempts to hide it

"We let him do the work for us and will now shoot him to claim what is ours" he chuckled

She frowned but kept walking

They all walked up the stairs, she curiously eyed the people standing with thals waiting to welcome them

Distracted with them her ankle twisted but she caught herself with the railing, the giant staircase truly made her realize how hard it was to walk in a saree

"Main kuch madad karu?" His voice made her face scrunch up as she stood tall once again

"Tumse?" She chuckled passing him up the stairs

Sure she couldn't kill him but there was no need to make nice with incompetent people who can't do thier job right

He snarled while she walked up the stairs with ease, one of her hands on the pleats of her saree to keep it out of her feet

"Jis chattan ko toodna tha sirf uski mazbooti ke bare main soch rahe the, lekin usse toodne wale hathode ki mazbooti ab pta chal rahi hai"

"Ab uss hathode ko kaise toodna hai uski soch" the older man said making maya frown as she looked at the other two

She wanted to hear more

She wanted to know more

Who was he? What did he want?

Usse bheja tha garuda ko marne par vo gya tha kgf lene?

Was it wrong that she was starting to admire him? She would still kill him so there was no harm in that correct?

They reached the doors with 4 men around them holding guys, sweeping past them they shifted inside the room with dark walls, a conference table in the middle of it with a window overlooking the empire

It was like a breath of fresh air looking over such a well crafted structure

Folding her arms across her chest she stood there infront of the window

This is what they are willing to kill over?

She smiled, she must say they had good taste

Who wouldn't kill for this

The sound of the helicopter made her look over her shoulder towards the door

Not wanting to move from her stop

Not wanting to stop

Wanting to know everything

She gave up turning towards the door awaiting the man's arrival like the rest of them

The anticipation was killing her as the door opened revealing the bright light

She shielded her eyes but couldn't help but look

The black suit came into view making her eyes shine

She couldn't quite make out his features due to the limited lighting in the room but she could see him

Everyone stood and watch as he came forward reveling himself entirely taking a few steps towards her making her rise a brow as a curve appeared at the corner of his lips

He came closer

And closer

Walking a circle around her holding her eyes as he sat down at the head of the table

Her eyes were on him while everyone else's were on her curiously watching as to what that little stunt of his was

If only she knew

"Hey Deva dekhna iss kursi ke liye koi aur sar na kate" his voice came making her turn and stand next to the older men

One of the workers came forward towards the man in white "rocky, garuda ko marne wala yahi hai" she eyed them but he caught her attention once again

She could feel his gaze on her

Making her look up at him

He smirked but it was shortlived as her eyes shifted again taking in her surroundings

So they hadn't seen him before?

"Aare basa re basa darr aur izzat toh dil main honi chaheye" the man at the top of the table flashed a charming smile making the corner of her lip turn up

He truly was something else

This was going to he fun

She stood next to the men sitting infront of him fixing her glasses better on her nose

The small bowls of fire were the only thing providing the much needed light to the room

She still couldn't see him properly

It bothered her a little

She wanted to know more

She wanted to know everything there was to know about this guy

It wasn't common for someone to peek her interest like this

But he was different after all

Everything about him was different

"Aare sabke thobade kyu latke hain? Jaghan ke liye naya hu, field main nahi" a smirked touched his lips

"Aye ek gya toh doosra aake baith gya isko khokho samjha hai kya" Kamal spoke making her eyes turn to him

So he wasn't all talk after all

"Hamare baap logo ne apna saamrajya mehefooz rakhne ke liye he hume paida kiya hai koi bahar wala aake baith jaye aur hum ghaas cheelte baithe?" He leaned back his jaw clenched

She rubbed her forehead

His annoying voice made her head hurt

Why couldn't she just put a bullet in his head again?

The other man on the other hand looked like he was enjoying playing with these people like his puppets "nepotism? Yeh kya ho raha hai hamare desh main jahan dekho recommendation, donation, domination, influence, ghoos, baap ka naam ab gareeb ke bache kya kare, mehenat karke first rank lane wala kya kare, bina ghoos liye kaam karne wala officer kya kare, hal chalane wala kya kare, AKELA GHUS KE SAR KATNE WALA KYA KARE" he let his fist hit the table leaning back with fury in his eyes

"Merit se aae hain bhai aapon ko bhi thoda respect de na bhai, tumhare baap logo ne sab sahi kiya, lakin ek mistake kar di, tum sabko mere time par paida kar diya, main raaj karta rahoonga tum sab ghaas cheelte rehana hun? What do you say sona?" He looked at her noticing her smile

She looked away for a second but when turned back his eyes were still on her

The smile on her lips vanished but it was too late he had already noticed it

Noticed her

Their eyes met his looking at her like she was something else he could take over and hers looking at him amused

"Kon hai tu?" An amused smile broke out on his lips as he frowned not being able to place her

There was no way he would forget someone like her

She looked at the male in the white for an answer "hamare liye kaam karti hai" he nodded making the man at the top of the table frown

"Dekha nahi kabhi?" He asked tilting his head to examine crossing one leg over the other and leaning on one side of the chair

"Abhi join kiya hai" the older male spoke for her

"Naam kya hai tera?" He raised his eyebrows leaning against the table his elbows on each side of it

The man was about to speak for her again but he stopped him, shaking his head he pointed his finger at her

"Madhura"

she spoke and something inside him snapped

It was as if he didn't expect her to actually speak

"Madhu" he repeated a smile streched out on his lips

"Mere liye kaam kar, bohot danger hai yeh sab log" he spoke smiling "aur vaise bhi itni badi company chalane wale ko ek company toh chaheye na" a sinister smile broke out on those lips

"You are my entertainment sona" he said making Kamal get up his jaw clenched "aye bass kar bohot charbi chadhi hai tabse dekh raha hu kutte ke tarah bhooka ja raha hai, hamari ladki ke bare main baat karega" that made her head snap in his direction

Since when was she their girl?

She looked at Andrews eyes burning with fire making him back up a bit as he nodded putting a hand over his arm "kamal kya kar raha hai baith ja" his panicked voice did nothing for him to back down, it was like this guy had a death wish

"Vo teri entertainment hai kya vo? chup baithe hain toh zada he foodak raha hai" maya took a deep sigh knowing what was about to happen

She didn't care enough to stop it but it seemed Andrews cared a lot

"kya kar rahe ho baith jao" he spoke again but went unnoticed

"Apni aukat janta hai tu? Bombay ki galiyo main shoe polish karke chillar pe jeene wala keeda hai tu" the man tried to stop him again getting up but he pushed him down

Maya frowned looking up at the man again

Was he truly who kamal said he was?

Did he really manage to get all this while being that person?

Did a simple guy went from polishing shoes to sitting on the throne of one of the most powerful empires in the world just like that?

If there was a doubt before it was clear now

The respect she had for him increased and the urge to kill Kamal intensified

"vo hai teri aukat, aapne uss din rok diya isiliye aaj hamare saamne rob jama ke baitha hai" another guy from the side tried to stop him aswell putting a hand on his arm calling his name

Why did everybody care about this guy so much? If someone wants to die this much let them

He shoved the guy off "don't touch me jiski jo aukat hai usse vahi rehena chaheye kooda khane wale kutte ko singhasan par bitha ke khel dekh rahe ho hun? Us bin bach gya aaj nahi bachega iski maut mere hatho hogi ISKI MAUT MERE HATHO HOGI-"

A gun shot was heard stopping the guy from saying anything further

Maya stood there unfazed she knew this was about to happen, infact she was waiting for it

She looked down as a pool of blood started to form at her feet

Tsk my saree, she stepped aside holding her pleats as to not get blood at the bottom of them

She took a deep breath looking at the man who did this

She was truly grateful

It wasn't exactly ethical to shoot your client so it was good that he did it for her

The silence streched out in the room as everyone looked at the body on the ground

But her eyes were only on him

"Kidhar tha main?" He said still holding the gun up, the rest of them turned to him listening carefully as to what he was going to say

"Entertainment haan you will be my entertainment sona" he put the gun away getting up from his chair

"Aye kahi nahi jayega tu" one of the older men said making the guards behind point thier guns at him for even suggesting that

But he stopped them "aye aye aye aye kya re partners hain re aise ek ek karke udh gye toh dhanda kon Sambhalega"

The space fell silent again as his eyes reached her again making her look at him

The older man spoke again "garuda ko marne ke liye ek rocky paida kiya toh iss rocky ko marne ke liye ek aur rocky paida kar sakte kya"

The man infront of her smile his face scrunched up

"mera baap se he nahi hua toh mere baap ki kasam kissi se bhi nahi hoga" he faced him

"one and only piece" he smiled putting on his sunglasses as he walked out

He walked out leaving everyone in the room stunned looking at each other's faces

Hoping one of them would say something

Do something

The body was dragged away

Andrews looking at her making her nod as she made her way out

Now was the time

What she had been waiting for

A smile streched out across her face

This was gonna be fun

__________________________

@vijayasena @meenammaisslay @kalavathii @mahi-wayy @o-merebholebalam @hum-suffer

Did I forget anyone? I'm so sorry if I did

[drdemonprince]

autistic anon here again, thanks for fielding my question, you're a real one for not all toxic positivity on it. i guess i should've formulated things better, because i didn't mean to imply being completely wrapped up in decision paralysis to the point of doing nothing. that's a mental hurdle i've cleared a long time ago, so shit gets done. i have a few emails sitting in my inbox of fundraisers i helped with that closed out, and it;s making me emotional just thinking about it.

there's a weird disconnect between knowing that you're just one person (and that's something i actually like, i'm no-one special, that's a very freeing thought), and fully feeling it. because somewhere there's always a nagging worry i could do more. as true as it is, reminding yourself you're doing what you can feels like a convenient self-soothing lie when you're in the pit of a bad night. probably the calvinist whispering poisons in your ear. (being afraid of falling in the trap of slacktivism or just reposting everything as a signal boost and patting myself on the back for a job well done, amongst them. which is BS, but knowing isn't believing.)

i mentioned the autistic part for a reason, because community is something i've never quite experienced and only understand in the abstract. like those fundraisers i helped with many, many other people, that's a community effort and i'm proud i could contribute my little bit. translating that to in-person efforts has been a big ??? though. it's not very parseable or approachable to me.

i hadn't quite grokked this as all being part of shame, i have your book sitting here and have read it a while, probably should reread it.

Hey, thanks for writing back! I hear from people of all levels of engagement, from having never done anything to like dedicated black bloc hard core mother fuckers so it's hard to gauge from a single message what someone's particular situation is.

It sounds like you are already doing a ton, choosing actions to take, following through on them, reflecting on the impact of your tactics, and then regrouping to do more and to try things differently where you can. Yet you still feel like shit sometimes and as if you're not doing enough. What to do about those feelings?

Well. Consider those feelings aren't a problem you have to fix. They're just a thing that will happen. Because of cultural conditioning and endless exposure to alarming messages and imagery online they're just gonna come up. Those feelings can just exist while you keep doing the damn thing.

You've already got your behavior on lock. You're doing what you can and not succumbing to choice paralysis. You're hopefully not burning yourself out. It doesn't sound like anything needs to change, maybe other than you not consuming too much online bullshit that's making you feel even more guilty needlessly.

You say: "there's a weird disconnect between knowing that you're just one person (and that's something i actually like, i'm no-one special, that's a very freeing thought), and fully feeling it."

Yeah, you might not ever fully feel it. As long as you keep acting like it's true, you're good imo.

i feel like the most evil selfish unlovable human being alive most days. it doesn't really matter that i do. it sucks, but that's just a fact of how my life has been. i can keep picking myself up and doing what i have decided is right for me to do anyway. i do what i can to avoid triggers that make that feeling worse, so that it doesn't become a barrier to action, but otherwise i just... keep on living, with terrible emotions and terrible thoughts. and i focus on my actions.

As for the community piece, I hear you, it's really fucking hard. I think it's very humbling work that is so worth doing though. Often it involves showing up to the work that a group is doing and living with the fact that you won't know what the fuck is going on and looking inept for a while. it's a necessary distress tolerance building exercise, getting more comfortable with just being there and rearranging the chairs and setting up the food and feeling like a dumbass who has nothing to contribute.

being able to sit with those feelings and keep showing up and not having an ego about it is enough to earn a lot of trust and foster deeper connections, I find. so many people fail to be able to even do that in most organizing/activist/volunteering spaces. I understand it feels mortifying but it is another one of those situations of getting over oneself in a way that's ultimately so freeing and beautiful. when you can accept that people want you around even if you never have anything to say and do nothing but bring paper cups and take out the trash. it's a real object lesson in how not being all that important can be a wonderful thing and make it possible for us to find love and acceptance.

[ddollipop]

TILL I'M FINALLY FIXED. . . ! — ( MOIRA O'DEORAIN. )

#. synopsis! — you know this is a nasty habit, but it's not one you're willing to break until it breaks you first .

#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , lesbian smut, female on female, dirty talk , explicit age difference , references to power imbalances , oral sex , cunnilingus , dom!moira , sub!reader , one-sided stimulation , giving preference (moira) , praise , sort of birthday sex , collaring , mentions of alcohol (past) , mentions of smoking + cigarettes , toxic relationship dynamics , explicit references to mommy issues , implied rough childhood (reader) , usage of a sex toy (vibrator) , thigh riding , multiple positions , multiple orgasms .

#. word count! — 4.1k .

You know you shouldn’t be here, —but here you are yet again, coming to Moira’s every beck and call. All it took was one text and you’re standing in front of her door in a nice little dress that won’t stay on for much longer anyhow, but you wanted to wear it because you bought it less for yourself and more for her. You want her to see you in it, take a moment to admire the way it flatters your figure, hugs all the right places, let her eyes rake over you like you’re some kind of fine arts exhibit before she takes her sweet time stripping it off and tossing it to the wayside. And then you’re sure she’ll trail those nails of hers along the bare skin of your arms, toying with the straps of your lacy bra before she finally unhooks it from the back and discards of it as well, leaving lipstick stains on your chest when her mouth meets your skin. She’ll whisper that you’re pretty, and you might just believe it for the night, and then she’ll make you believe it when she kisses you hard enough to steal your breath away, and—

Your thoughts still when she opens the door for you, giving you a knowing smirk. There was never a question of if you were coming, just one of how quickly you’d be arriving, and here you are, even though you shouldn’t be. She invites you inside and lingers behind you under the guise of closing the door, but you can feel her piercing stare on your body as she flips the lock. You leave your heels at the door, as always. 

No, it’s not a good idea to be back here again, but you’ve convinced yourself by now that sometimes it’s okay to live a little. Moira is a lot of things, but she’s someone you trust enough to let see you in very vulnerable positions, and you like to think that’s enough. It might be a naive perspective to have on the matter, —but that’s to be expected of you, so young and pliable. You met Moira on the night of your twenty-first birthday, celebrating alone at a bar where she was sipping on straight whiskey while you nursed a poorly prepped martini (and found that alcohol in general just isn’t much to your taste.)

Nearly thirty years your senior, she felt like she was taking a chance on you that night. It’d been a rough day, and she’d gone so long only caring about her work and all the ways she was looking to change the world that her desire to want and be wanted had since fallen to the wayside. But there you were with those lost, innocent eyes, glancing around like you hadn’t a clue what you were doing (because you didn’t.) She was so confident and smooth in the way she moved down the bar to sit next to you, then let her hand rest on your thigh after a few minutes of chit-chat. One thing led to another, she bought you a few drinks to try, and then took you to a nearby hotel for the night where she sank her teeth in deep enough to keep you around for a while.

Nearing twenty-two and just as eager to please her, you accept her kiss with parted lips, letting her tongue rake itself over yours.

“You’re beautiful as ever,” she says, running the back of her slender index finger down the length of your cheek, “—is that a new dress you’ve got on?”

You know it doesn’t mean anything that she noticed. Not really, anyway. It’s in her job description to be observant, and her memory is impeccable, and yet you let it get to you that she noticed. You let yourself think that she really does care beyond what you’ve got between your legs that she really likes to press her mouth against until you’re left a quivering mess.

“Yeah, it is,” you nod, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I thought I’d treat myself. Do you like it?”

“I do,” she confirms, letting her eyes trail down the length of you once more. “An early birthday present to yourself, I presume?”

“You remembered?”

She remembered. Heaven help you, she makes this so much more complicated than it needs to be. Or, she helps you make it much more complicated than it needs to be, anyway. You know it’s a fool’s game to chase after her like she’s some kind of prize to be won, but. . . She’s so mature, and she makes you feel so special.

Long story short, you’ve got a down-bad case of mommy issues, but when you’re all tied up in Moira’s arms and she’s kissing every inch of you, wanting you down to the marrow, —it’s hard to let yourself be sad.

“Of course I remembered,” she replies so tenderly.

But tender like a bruise.

“Come, I got you something,” she beckons, moving her hand from your cheek and down to your wrist.

Moira pulls you along to her bedroom, the one you’ve been in many times before with a large sliding-glass door that leads to a balcony overlooking the city below. You’re not sure how much her rent is each month for this luxury apartment of hers, but you know it can’t be cheap. Sometimes you stand with her outside in the late night air, one of her button-up shirts hanging down to your kness with nothing but panties underneath after a nice time together. She’ll smoke a cigarette under the moonlight and press it to your lips every now and again, letting you take small hits that you never really breathe in.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” you tell her in earnest. “Besides, my birthday isn’t for a few more days. . .”

“Oh, hush,” she tells you, sounding more playful than scolding as she hands you a gift bag.

It’s a solid crimson color, which you can’t help but think is oddly befitting of her. There’s no glitter, frills, or ribbons, no bells and whistles to name, so you move to open it, but glance up at her in hesitation, as if asking for permission. She nods, to which you swallow and push some of the tissue paper aside, digging your hand into the bag until you touch something smooth toward the bottom.

Confused, you pull the item out and feel your face heat up. It’s a leather collar.

“Do you like it?” She inquires, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you should try it on.”

You nod and hand it over to her, pushing your hair out of the way so she can fasten it around your throat. It seems like such an easy process for her, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s ever done such a thing with anyone else. Once it’s secured, she moves in front of you and takes a step back, admiring the accessory.

“What do you think?” You ask, sounding somewhat sheepish.

“What a sight you are to behold, a ghrá,” she hums. “It even matches your dress.”

Black leather with a little black dress, it’s kind of hard to go wrong there.

“Come,” she all but coos, taking a seat on the edge of her king-sized bed right next to the oakwood nightstand.

It has three drawers, the top of which is always filled with various items you’ve had on or inside you over the past year; a few vibrators, various lubricants in different flavors, body oils, —and now, a silver chain. . . Like the kind you might use to keep a dog in place for a bit or curl around your bike to stop it from getting stolen. You stand between her thighs as she lets the length of it fall to the floor. Your guess would be that it’s only five feet or so long, but you’re sure she’ll make do with it just fine.

“Lean down for me,” she requests, and you do, no questions to be asked on the matter.

Moira smirks as she hooks the chain to the collar on your neck.

“Such an obedient thing, aren’t you?” She quips, then gives the chain a little yank for good measure. “Kneel.”

She feels her hunger grow the moment you comply so easily, as if she’s your master and you’ve been trained ever so perfectly to follow her every command without question.

“Good girl,” she murmurs, wrapping the metal links around her knuckles, then folding her fingers back over them.

She places a fingernail beneath your chin and tilts your gaze up until you’re transfixed on her irises.

“You’re so pretty like this, did you know that?” She inquires rhetorically.

The nail against your skin becomes the whole of her palm against your cheek. Her hand is cold, but you can’t seem to care beyond the brief initial shock.

“Don’t think your efforts go unnoticed, darling, I know exactly who you purchased that dress for,” Moira smirks. “And I’m enjoying every moment of seeing you in it, just as you intended.”

And that’s really all it takes. This love might bleed like an open wound, might fester until you stitch it up again, —but it’s here that you don’t mind all the nights you craved validation for every good deed that went unnoticed. Maybe Moira isn’t praising your straight A’s or being proud of just how much like her you look, but what’s the fucking difference if it fills the same void? What does it really matter if it helps?

“Open,” she utters, and as you do, she places two fingers from her opposite hand against the flat of your tongue, drawing little circles in your saliva.

Then she rests an elbow against her knee and leans down a little lopsidedly, replacing her fingers with her lips, kissing you sloppily, capturing your mouth and keeping you there until she’s had her fill of it. When she breaks away, you feel her fingers searching for your dress’s zipper along the back.

“I really hate to see this go so soon, but certain sacrifices are in order,” she sighs a little playfully, tugging the zipper down about halfway before standing upright and using the chain on your neck to pull you with her.

On your feet again, she helps you out of your dress and makes a show of folding it ever so neatly, then placing it on the nightstand in front of her lamp and her alarm clock that’s woken you up too soon far too many times for your liking. Moira lays you down on her bed, and it’s so large that it reminds you of the one you’d search for at night when bad dreams took hold of your fragile little heart and squeezed just hard enough to crush it into pieces at will. Only this time, there’s warmth awaiting your endeavors, and you’re not a lowly little child that has to beg for affection.

She rubs a few teasing lines down your slit through the black lace of your panties, teasing you briefly with her touch. For as long as you’ve known her, Moira has never been very keen on reciprocation, preferring to give rather than take. She likes the control and the motions of it all, likes to know that she has the upper hand, —and she always does when she’s with you.

It’s only been a few moments, but it feels like a lifetime and then some by the time she hooks her fingers under the waistband of your underwear and begins to tug them down your thighs. You feel the scratch of the materials against your flesh as you lift your hips off the sheets to make it easier, and she’s much less careful with your panties than she was with your dress just a bit ago. They wind up somewhere on the floor at the foot of her bed.

You gasp a bit when the pad of her thumb slips past your lips and nudges along your clit almost instantaneously. The quick reaction makes her snicker a bit.

“Sensitive as ever,” She comments offhandedly.

The unspoken part of that is something along the lines of I’ve always loved that about you.

After a year’s worth of hookups, late nights, and hellishly early mornings spent together, Moira is virtually an expert in all things pertaining to you. Such is only exemplified by the way she teases you for a bit with her tongue before letting it slip past your lips to lap at your inner folds.

You choke on a few curse words just above her, already clawing at the sheets as she flicks her tongue against you, pulling the chain that still remains clutched in her hand a bit tighter. It’s not enough to cause any pain, but it squeezes your neck from the back and makes it ever so slightly harder to take in gasping breaths of air.

She was more than right when she called you sensitive, —both to her touch and everything else about her. You’ve always been so eager to make her happy, and she loves that about you. You’d jump through rings of fire for her, and she knows it.

The mixture of your arousal and her spit makes for a delicious squelshing sound at every move she makes, tongue thrusting in and out of your soaked cunt, abusing your clit for her pleasure while you whine and whimper above her. This kind of pleasure has always felt overwhelming in a good way; the kind that gets your blood pumping, heart racing, and inhabitions lowered enough to fall for someone like her, even when you know it’s bad for you.

Moira feels the stress of her work and the critics of her methods melt away when her tongue is busy torturing you so sweetly, lapping at every glistening inch she can. She’s mind-numbingly thorough, and it leaves your thighs quivering long before your orgasm begins to prickle just under your skin. For as good as she is with words, it comes as no surprise that she’s just as skilled with her tongue in all areas of her life.

It doesn’t take much more of this to have you cumming on her tongue, cunt spasming so helplessly under her touch.

Fuck, you’d do anything to have her like this every night when she gets in from work and needs something —someone— to take her frustrations out on. You’ve always been good for that.

“Tired?” She muses, regarding you a bit sweetly as she sits upright and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her button-up shirt.

“Just a bit,” you answer, breathing slightly easier now that she isn’t pulling as harshly on the chain clipped to your throat.

“Not tired enough to stop now, I’d hope?”

What you really wanna say is that you’d never stop until she told you that you could, gave you explicit confirmation that enough was enough, —but you can’t. You know deep down that it’d scare her off, and you just couldn’t handle that kind of rejection, so you shake your head instead.

“Good,” Moira replies. “It’d be a shame to pause here when I have so much planned for you tonight. That was merely the tip of the iceberg.”

An appetizer, one she was wetting her chops with.

She digs around in that drawer next to her bedside, pulling a vibrator from the inside. You’re not so sure she’s ever used this one on you before, but if there’s one thing Moira always knows how to do right, it’s give you pleasure, so you resign yourself to laying there on her bed as she presses one of the pebble-like buttons on the shaft and feels the item begin to shake in her hand.

“Turn over,” she quips, thinking you’ve had enough cool-down time between sets of stimulation, —and you do, hiking your ass into the air and speading your thighs apart to give her ample access.

You feel her nails scratch thoughtfully over your goosebump-ridden skin, pausing for a moment to knead at your flesh a few times. Then she runs a hand down to the small of your back, wordlessly encouraging you to rest your head against the mattress and let her get to work. A needy moan is drawn from your parted lips the very second she presses the vibrator to your pussy lips, causing shivers to wrack through your body.

The soft hum of the toy speeds up into more of a whirring sound as she increases the tenacity and pushes it inward, slipping past your folds to pulsate against your desperate clit. Moira seems rather satisfied with the sounds you’re making, even as she reaches just under your body to snatch the chain still dangling from around your neck. You feel it jostle as she wraps it around her knuckles once, then twice, pulling taunt while she begins drawing blissful shapes into your snatch that have your eyes rolling back into your head.

Then from the soft melody of the toy’s buzz came a sudden crescendo into a firm, droning noise that made you cry out a bit from the intensity.

“Ah,” Moira says, almost in amusement, “I take it that’s the one?”

“Yes,” you reply quickly, the word coming out so ruined by no fault of your own.

“Very well,” she notes, swirling the tip against your clit again before pulling away and repeating.

It’s like she’s teasing you, though you’re not sure if that’s the intention of it all. Either way, you make no attempt to complain. It’s impossible to even think about doing so when you’ve got stars swashing across your vision. You’re sure you’d have been drooling between your legs by now, dripping all over her sheets, if not for the knob of the vibrator catching and returning it, slicking you up even more.

Your neck is beginning to ache from the position you’re laying in, but you ignore the signs from your body to move and find a more comfortable posture. All you can focus on is the heat between your legs and the toy she’s now pressing so roughly against you that you can practically feel the vibrations in your womb. The pressure builds once again, your stomach twisting into knots, —and then you finally let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as an orgasm wracks through your body. It was so much easier to elicit the second time around, almost enough for you to be embarrassed.

Moira pulls the toy away slowly, letting your lips kiss it softly goodbye as she switches it back to a stationary position.

“To your liking, I take it?” She asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Yeah,” you huff, “—definitely.”

It just always is when you’re with her, no matter what she does, or even if she only uses what she has readily available. Anything she offers is enough. You’d do anything just touch her, feel her skin against yours, feel her lips ghost against you like they always do. You’re left to toe another dangerous line between ecstasy and infatuation.

She tugs the chain and you find yourself on your knees, kneeling a bit unsteadily on your thighs that haven’t quite stopped quivering just yet. You lower your ass to your heels on the mattress as she wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you a bit closer to trail some peppered kisses down your jaw. It’s hard not to feel special when you have her like this, —when she showers you in all the adoration you missed out on in your younger years. Sure, maybe it’s not the same, and maybe it is just placing a bandaid over a gash deep enough to need stitches, but it’s the best you can do. There’s no amount of therapy that can really change the past, and if Moira is what it takes for you to feel like you’re worth something for a while, then so fucking be it.

By now, your pussy’s sopping wet and swollen, but still in desperate need of her attention. Moira kisses you again, but your lips this time, slipping her tongue into your mouth and swapping your spit for her own.

You swallow down the I love you that rises in the back of your throat like bile. You can’t say that. . . You won’t. You can think it all you want, because she can’t read your mind (as much as it feels like she can sometimes) —but you can’t say it out loud. Not when you know it means throwing away this already pitifully fragile balance.

“Come,” she says simply, moving to sit at the head of her bed, long legs stretched out and clothed in black dress pants with the texture of rough denim.

She situates you as she pleases, one leg on either side of her right thigh, one hand on your hip to keep you steady while the other fiddles with the chain. She coaxes you down until your pussy is flat against her, taking in a sharp breath from the warmth and the friction.

“Let’s get this out of the way, shall we?” She comments, both hands meeting behind your back to unclasp your bra, —the last item of clothing left on your frame.

Once it’s shed, she gives you another look-over, admiring you like she’s never seen you this way before. 

“Your wrists,” she requests, to which you comply so obediently, like a pet she’s trained ever so well. 

Moira wraps the length of the chain around your wrists a few times, tucking the end through the space in the middle. Under any other circumstances, you’d have easily been able to wriggle your way free, but you allow yourself to be bound for the sake of her pleasure; leaning forward to rest against her shoulder.

“Sweet thing,” she murmurs. “One more? They say third time’s the charm, after all.”

“Whatever you want,” you answer, even at the risk of coming on a little too strong.

Luckily, she doesn’t seem to mind the intensity of the statement and appears to chalk it up to pillow talk.

With both of her hands free now, she plants one on each side of your hips, nails digging slightly into the plush of your skin. A whine clings to the back of your throat as she guides you, coaxing you into a subtle grind against her clothed thigh. Sharp prickles run along your spine as you move a little faster, chasing a final high that really can’t seem to come fast enough.

Moira seemed more than content to lie back and watch you drive yourself wild in her lap, her hands less guiding your motions now and more just coming along for the ride that she’s letting you set the pace of. You spur between quick, jagged motions and slow, deliberate ones that really send shocks throughout your body, all of which meld deliciously together and leave you love drunk atop her.

You know the wetness from your pussy is staining her pants, likely more than enough to seep through the fabric, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. With your heart pounding like a drum in your chest, you almost have the wherewithal to wonder if she can hear it. You find it’s harder to breathe now, lungs aching a little from the inconsistent amounts of air you’re taking in a series of random gulps, then sputtering out between desperate moans of pleasure.

“Moira,” you hiss, —and she squeezes your hips in silent response.

The heat in the pit of your stomach has begun to spark like a live wire, just begging to catch ablaze. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, muffling the ragged sobs that you can’t hold back any longer, eventually sinking your teeth into the junction of her slender shoulder when your climax hits you. 

Moira listens to the uneven rhythm of your breathing as it steadily calms into something less strangled, trailing her fingers down your naked spine. When you’ve come down from the high, she unravels the chain, then removes it entirely, and stuffs it (as well as the vibrator) back into the drawer they came from. The collar comes off just as readily, and she takes a moment to check on the condition of your throat in the process. Best of all, you just know it’s going to be one of the better nights when she reaches off to the side of the bed, plucking her half-empty pack of cigarettes from the nightstand to place one of them between her lips.