#this flat assed freak is afraid of affection!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[everymeloneveryday]

chapter 150 page 21

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Be Very Afraid

This is the best story arc episode in season three and arguably the best written episode since The Great Tree, but it’s still season three so there are still issues with it. 

Summary: When Zhan Tiri tells Cassandra she must destroy Rapunzel in order to wield the Moonstone's true power, Cassandra discovers that she can create, with fear, red rock spikes that cause fear and freeze their victims. Varian discovers the red rocks and teams up with Rapunzel to use his amber solution on them. Meanwhile, Eugene and Lance decide to throw a talent show to distract everyone from their fears. 

Why Can’t Cassandra Control The Rocks?

The series never gives an actual explanation for this. She could control them just fine in Rapunzel’s Return, so what’s changed? 

There is No Destiny!

There’s no prophecy, no oracle, no grand design nor master of fate to fight back against; the characters literally have no reason to do what they do. If you want destiny to be a goal then you have to establish what that destiny is first. 

What does Cassandra want? How does this connect back to Gothel, Rapunzel, and the Moonstone? Why she just failing about like an idiot here? Did she not have a plan when she threw her life away for this stupid rock? 

And of course Zhan Tiri is lying here, but why should Cassandra believe her? What does she gain by listening to a creepy ghost girl? This ‘destiny’ has not been established, so therefore there’s no hook nor bait for Zhan Tiri to trap her with. 

Leading directly into “you should kill your bestie’ should logically put Cassandra off of Zhan Tiri’s advice for good because Zhan Tiri isn’t actually offering anything. Temptation requires the person to be, you know, tempted by what they want, but Cassandra doesn’t know what she wants so none of this makes sense. 

The writing is desperately trying to make Cass sympathetic here, but all it winds up doing is making her look like a moron instead. 

This Isn’t Consistent

Not only does this fail to explain why Cass could control the rocks previously but no longer can, but it’s also contradicted just a couple of episodes later with the incantation bullshit. 

You need an established magic system in place in order for the character’s actions to make sense show!

This Ultimately Goes Nowhere

Ignoring how Varian should have been in season two and how translating the scroll should have led to freeing his father, which we’ve talked about previously; this subplot should have had more impact on the narrative than it actually did. Yes, Varian’s translation winds up driving the plot of Cassandra’s Revenge, but 90% of that episode winds up being utterly pointless, including the incantations themselves, so.... 

I Like This Sequence; Shame It Winds Up Being Undermined Later  

Unlike the majority of dream sequences in this show, this nightmare has an actual point. It more firmly establishes Varian’s fears and gives the audience some insight into what happened to him back in season one. Something we were sorely lacking. It also becomes the core conflict and drive of Varian’s character development through out the episode. 

Only for the episode to ignore Varian’s real issues and fail to adequately address anything. By series end this plot point will be completely forgotten. The show acts like bringing it up once and then never acknowledging it ever again just magically revolves Varian’s character arc. It doesn’t.  

So How Come Quirin Isn’t Affected By the Rocks? 

He’s right there next to them and he shows no reaction to them at all. You’re telling me the man who lost his home twice to these things, almost died to them, and nearly lost his only child because of them, is just not going to respond to new creepy red ones popping up? 

Quirin would have a treasure trove of trauma to explore in his own right, that undoubtedly would connect back to Varian’s own issues, but we’re just going to ignore it and have Quirin off screen for the majority of the episode?

Are These New Character Models?

Are you shitting me!? 

They built five new models just for a short two minute scene, one where none of the new characters are named nor given lines, only to never appear ever again!

What the fuck? Why did you waste time and money on this? What happened to all of the other background characters you already built? Did a bunch of season one models just get lost or deleted or something? 

Also why are they all wearing green? Is it St. Paddy’s Day? 

This Plot Point Wasn’t Established Enough Beforehand

Look, I’ll buy that there are people in Corona who still blame Varian for what happened in season one and for the Sapoiran take over. I mean they’re only getting half the story and were directly effected by his actions whether or not he intended harm to them. But we needed to see more of it beyond just this one scene.

No one was bullying him in Lost Treasure or The King and Queen of Hearts, so for all purposes he appeared to be integrated back into society, and now you’re telling me he’s not and that Rapunzel risked his well being by forcing him to interact with people who were hostile to him back in Lost Treasure? 

And yeah you can’t really move Lost Treasure back any further than it already is cause that’d leave a giant hole in the wall of the throne room for over a year. Which also makes no sense either. 

Or hey, maybe it’s just Feldspar being an asshole. In which case why should Varian or the audience care? 

Eugene is Wasted

Look I understand that there’s only twenty five minutes to tell this story and that Eugene isn’t the focus of the episode. I also understand that the B-plot is meant to be comedic in order to relive tension from the A plot, but this wasn’t the best way to go about it. 

The B plot swings too far wide in the other direction that it dilutes the tension too much. The A plot now has to work over time to keep the urgency going. I could understand it, if the show wanted start off with small fears first, but it needed to ramp up the drama as it got closer to the climax, not under cut it. 

We never see Eugene freak out over anything other this this cowlick. In fact we never see him scared of anything else beyond this one scene, which undermines Rapunzel’s arc this episode as she’s suppose to be the only one bottling things in. What makes Eugene so special that he can keep a lid on it with out consequences, or are you telling me that a dumb cowlick is his only fear? 

Either answer is stupid. 

I Hope You Have Copies of the Map

You went through all that trouble to steal the journal for this very reason and now here you are prancing around without it like it’s not that big of deal. Way to undermined past story arcs. 

It’s like the writers know that season one was their most successful season, and therefore try to make callbacks to it whenever they can, to make up for ignoring it in season two completely, but they still don’t want to actually acknowledge anything that happened during that season so they just refer to it in the laziest way possible, rendering the previous events pointless. 

So Close and Yet So Far

I’m mainly posting this whole conversation so that you dear readers will have context for what I talk about next. 

For you see, this scene starts out okay and it looks like we’re finally going to address the elephant in the room regarding Rapunzel’s involvement in Varian’s past trauma, only for the scene to immediately side step the issue all together and not resolve the conflict at all. 

No! Don’t Interrupt; Listen! 

Or at least go all the way and accept some of the blame yourself. 

It may look like Rapunzel is comforting Varian here on a superficial level, but without her verballing acknowledging what she did wrong, this action just winds up taking the focus off of Varian and what he needs and places it upon Rapunzel, both narratively and physically.

So what happens is that, in universe, it comes across like she’s just consoling Varian for her own personal comfort rather than genuinely trying to help. 

Why Would Varian Ever Think This? 

Okay, first off this has nothing to do with what Varian was talking about previously. Why would he jump from discussing his trauma to praising Rapunzel? You know the woman who is responsible for said trauma? 

Secondly, this switches the focus of the conflict off of Varian’s specific trauma and makes it about a generic “over coming fear” lesson mixed with an out of place validation issue. Which is not what’s actually needed for his character development; nor for Rapunzel’s for that matter. 

Third, being the sundrop has nothing to do with Rapunzel as a person. Her being born with magical powers was an accident of fate, same as her being royalty. She’s not innately better than anybody else because of this and nobody has any narrative reason to assume otherwise. Especially since her powers are utterly disconnected from her actual personality, choices, and actions. All three of which have become unbearably unpleasant by the last season. 

Finally, Varian, of all people should be the last person on earth to ever think so highly of Rapunzel. Them being friends again is already pushing believability. Him suddenly kissing her ass the same as everyone else this season is just flat out bad writing.  

Varian knows better than anybody what an awful person Rapunzel is. He’s seen her at her worse. He’s seen her not live up to her hypocritical ideals. He knows the larger problems that steam from placing people in power on pedestals. As her former victim, Varian by all accounts should be the one person who can bring Rapunzel down to earth and poke holes into her ego, even while still being her friend. Especially while still being her friend. She needs that! Writing Varian as another blind Rapunzel stan is not only writing him out of character, but it also damages Rapunzel’s own development. 

Also Varian hates magic. Why would he now worship someone just for having magic? 

THIS AIN’T ABOUT YOU BITCH!!!

I literally yelled that at my tv screen when I first saw this scene. Those were my exact words upon the episode’s first airing. And believe it or not, I’m not one to usually scream obscenities at inanimate objects. 

I understand what the writers were trying to accomplish here. They wanted Rapunzel to ease the tension by saying something funny and to make Varian laugh to distract him from his woes; thereby defusing the situation. But it doesn’t work because of season three’s tendency to make Rapunzel the most egotistical, smug, self-centered, abusive, self-righteous twat in the show. 

It really boggles the mind just how unaware the writing is. Like, surely no one makes their protagonist this unlikable on accident. Clearly they meant for Rapunzel to be an ass on purpose right?  They wanted Cass to have a reason to hate her so they decided to make her insufferable to the viewer in a misguided attempt to make Cass more sympathetic? Right? 

Then where is the bloody comeuppance? 

I genuinely thought this was all going to lead somewhere. That Rapunzel was going to learn to be a better person and I would have been fine by that. I would have applauded the show if they had turned her into an asshole intentionally so that they could teach a mature and nuanced lesson about morality. 

But they didn’t, and here I am; still shaking my head in confusion over a year later. 

Seriously what the fuck happened behind the scenes to cause this? How can processionals paid by the largest animation company in the world be so incompetent? 

Having Trauma is Not the Same Thing as Having a Phobia  

This is where Varian’s arc falls apart. Not only does the episode fail to have Rapunzel acknowledge her past wrongs for a second time, but it also completely mishandles Varian’s trauma because it equates it to being an irrational fear. One that can be overcome through pure force of will at that, same as Lance and everyone else’s fears in the episode. 

Ok first off Varian’s fear isn’t irrational. He even just said so at the start of the conversation. Varian’s trauma is very real, it’s not a hypothetical unlike clown-spiders and cowlicks. Also has been given very little reassurance that it won't happen again. Varian has no reason to trust Rapunzel or anybody else in the show. They never owned up to abandoning him previously, and both he and the audience have little reason to believe that Rapunzel wouldn’t just neglect him again if it was convenient for her.   

Secondly one does not simply ‘overcome’ trauma. Oh you can deal with trauma, you can manage it and learn to live with it. But it never goes away. It doesn’t magically disappear just because you ‘faced it’. 

In fact confronting it head on is actually the opposite of what your suppose to do when going through something traumatic. Studies have shown that distracting your mind after a car crash or what have you actually helps with PTSD later on. And ‘dealing with it” doesn’t mean ignoring the problem out right, but rather learning how to function despite the pain. 

But as the show acts like Varian’s trauma never even existed after this episode. 

This Doesn’t Resolve Anything!

What does “being special” have to with fear? How does this help Varian with his trauma? Empty validation has nothing to with what we were just discussing. 

Everyone gets afraid. Everyone has trauma of some sort. Are you telling me that my need for therapy some 20 years after being physically assaulted is just because I’m not special enough? Fuck you show! 

Moreover, this doesn’t resolve the story arc from season one. Varian and Rapunzel’s conflict with each other has nothing to do with self esteem. It was about personal responsibility, conflicting needs, and abuse. Yes, self image and acceptance was a small factor in their motivations, but it was never the driving goal behind their decisions. 

This is yet another broken narrative promise to the audience. There’s no closure to be had from this and leaves the viewer wanting, if not outright frustrated. 

In order to justify this exchange fans have to ‘read between the lines’ and make shit up in order for any of this to make any sense. People who still defend season three do by doing all the heavy lifting that writers themselves should be doing. 

If it’s not on screen, it doesn’t count. 

If Rapunzel never apologizes on screen, then she never apologized. If Rapunzel never checked up on Varian on screen, then she neglected him outright. If Rapunzel never acknowledges her wrong doings on screen, then she’s never learned anything. The characters pretending like she has doesn’t make it so. 

Why Does Cassandra Even Want a Destiny? 

Yes, Zhan Tiri is lying, there is no destiny, but Zhan Tiri being a liar doesn’t absolve Cassandra of her own actions. 

Cassandra herself believes in destiny and is looking for her’s, but why? 

Why does she want a destiny? What is this destiny she’s after? Why does she believe such a thing exists? What does she believe it’ll gain her? Why is she willing to risk so much for such a vague goal? What does any of this have to do with the moonstone or her mother? How does this destiny connect back with her personal feud with Rapunzel? 

It’s all disjointed and confused. Nothing lines up. It’s like the writers just had this dart board full of ideas for Cassandra’s villain arc, but couldn’t decide on which one to go with, so they just threw darts randomly each episode and went with whatever stuck for any given scene.

“Oh she want’s revenge for her mother during this scene, or wait no, she’s actually looking for destiny this episode?” “What destiny?” “Who knows. Now for this scene we need her to be sad because reasons...” “What reason?” “I don't care, make something up... Uuuuh, she’s sad cause she’s not a royal guard still” “But she became a guard during season one.” “Ignore that. Kids won’t remember. Now she needs to be angry and threating here” “Why?” “Because it’ll look cool.” “But why is she angry?” “Cause it looks cool Bob! Geez! Oh but she still needs to be sympathetic so give her a frowny face afterwards. Just have Zhan Tiri remind her how much she hates Rapunzel later, so as to egg her on and keep her doing stupid shit?”  “But why does she hate Rapunzel?”  “Do I have to think of everything BOB!!!???”  

There, there’s my non-so-accurate behind the scene’s glimpse into the Tangled writer’s room when discussing Cassandra’s arc. I could be wrong. There could have been some intricate and complex plan thought out that just didn’t make it onto the screen for whatever reason, or maybe everyone involved was so far up their own ass that they just forgot to give their main villain an actual reason for being the villain. But regardless the over all effect is that Cassandra is handed the idiot ball for a whole freaken season in order to even have a conflict and that is never good writing; or rather she’s hit in the head with it repeatedly. 

This Actually Goes Against Zhan Tiri’s Plan

Zhan Tiri’s short term goal is to be released from her dimensional prison and apparently she needs Cass and Raps to fight into order to do this. This was never established before hand and goes against her disciples pervious plans, but whatever. One could argue that this is just a lie in order to get them to fight later... 

However, this lie jeopardizes her long term goal. She eventually wants to wield both the moonstone and the sundrop herself in order to destroy Corona, but Rapunzel is the sundrop and you can only take her power during an ellipse, supposedly, which means if Cass actually succeeds in killing Rapunzel before then, then Zhan Tiri is up a creek without a paddle. Also if Cassandra did manage to steal Raps’ power with or without an ellipse then Zhan Tiri would still be out of luck. 

This was wholly unnecessary; you didn’t have to go from zero to sixty in one fell swoop. Have Zhan Tiri claim that fighting Rapunzel will award the power to the winner or something. There’s no need to bring up the ‘kill her’ option. That should logically just drive Cassandra away and puts Zhan Tiri’s plan at risk. 

The series wants to act like Zhan Tiri is this master manipulator, a chess master like Zantos or Palpatine, but she couldn’t even tie their shoes. Her plans make no sense and often contradict one another. They only work because the rest of the cast are reduced to imbeciles in order for them to work. 

This Plot Point Contradicts Season Two

His fear of spiders was establish early on, and I’ll accept the clown thing as there’s nothing to contradict it, but Lance has preformed numerous times before now and has never show stage fright. He’s a huge ham and back in Return of Quaid he mentioned how much loved acting and preforming and apparently been on stage before, so where does this fear of singing in public come from? Heck he sung in public just a few episodes ago in Rapunzel’s Return. 

If you have to sacrifice established character into order to make your plot work then you need a new plot. 

This Song is Nice; It Just Needed to Be in a Different Episode 

I’m glad Lance got a solo. He deserved one and the song is good. However it breaks the tension of the climax and gives the episode tonal whiplash. 

More than a song, Lance needed an actual focus episode in season three. One that was fully his. If anyone else shared it with him it needed to be Red and Angry, not Varian and Cass. 

Just imagine if this song came during an episode where he had to watch the girls. Imagine if he was singing it just for them. How much more impactful would that have been? 

Now imagine that we had a Rapunzel and Varian duet in it’s place here. That would have tied the episode together better and helped to further their own stories. Glenn Slater can write lyrics far better than Chris can write dialogue. I bet you a thousand to one Tangled the Series would have solved like half of it’s problems had Menken and Slater been allowed write and actual apology duet between Raps and Varian. 

Such a duet was proposed during Rapunzel’s Return but it could have worked here too, and you could have placed Lance’s solo in Day of the Animals or something, just leave Rapunzel out of that episode all together. 

Nothing honestly needed to be cut music wise, yet for some reason season three has less songs than the other seasons, even when counting the reprises, and they’re mostly shorter too. 

That’s mismanagement right there. Plain and simple. Someone at the top didn’t know how to balance the budget or resources and didn’t know where to the throw the money at. 

You Have a 70 Foot Shield Made of Magic Hair, Rapunzel

You couldn’t think to just block those rocks instead?

Giving your protagonist a big hero moment doesn’t work if they placed the person the have to save in jeopardy to begin with show. 

I Do Not Care About Rapunzel Right Now, Show

Yes, she’s the main character. Yes, her feud with Cass is the main conflict of the season and kicked off the episode. That does not mean that I automatically care about her personal feelings at this moment in time. 

Rapunzel has kept such a tight lid on her real feelings for the whole episode that this just comes out of nowhere. I was never waiting with baited breath for her to confess her deep dark secrets or whatever. 

It’s not even an interesting reveal. It’s just “Oh, see Rapunzel’s human too. She’s gets scared just like everybody else.”. I already fucking knew that, thanks. And what she’s afraid of isn’t even that compelling either; it’s a just a rip off of the prophecy dreams she had back in season one. The same ones that had no explanation and never furthered the story, so why should I care about this one?  

You have to earn the audience’s investment in your conflict. The character’s likability, as little as that may be currently, will only carry you so far, you have to establish shit first.  

Varian’s conflict has been the focus of the entire episode so far, and it’s a conflict that was set all the way back in season one, so of course that is what I’m invested in seeing get resolved. Rapunzel is once again just butting in and making it all about her when it’s not actually her story. 

And if you wanted it to be her story then you should have made her the actual focus to begin with and had her learn something by the end of it. 

This is Poor Choice of Words, Writers 

I could be generous here and pass this off as Rapunzel not fully believing in this prophecy. After all Corona’s destruction is still a hypothetical at this point and Cassandra really has left already. Since the episode is about fear, Rapunzel is of course more afraid of losing Cassandra’s friendship as it’s real tangible possibility. 

More than a possibility even, Rapunzel’s been dumped. Season three is a classic break up story, right down to the poor plotting and tunnel vision, hence why it’s so gay baity. 

However, this reading only carries so far. For starters this is Rapunzel’s what, fourth prophecy dream so far? Haven’t the past three already came true, so why would she think this one wouldn’t? 

Secondly, all that good grace goes right out the window once it becomes clear that, yes, Cassandra is indeed a threat; a threat that Rapunzel refuses to take seriously because she cares more about her own personal validation than her kingdom. 

Even as Cassandra does succeed in destroying Corona, and no doubt harms other people while at it, Rapunzel still is obsessed with ‘winning Cassandra back’. Oh and make no mistake, this is not because she actually cares about Cassandra as a person and her needs or feelings. Nope. Rapunzel just doesn’t like being dumped. 

Why Does Varian Need to Shove His Feelings Aside for Rapunzel’s Bullshit?

Rapunzel’s ‘confession’ has fuck all to do with Varian’s current issues. They do not connect in any way.  

Varian is dealing with real trauma, trauma that she helped cause, while Rapunzel is only dealing with a hypothetical prophecy and one very shallow, self-centered fear. There’s nothing to relate to here. Neither for Varian himself nor the audience. 

Yet for some undefined reason this is what gets Varian to ignore his PTSD flashbacks? What? 

This is once again break the narrative promise. I was promised closure for Varian’s story arc and instead of that the writers just brush it up under the rug. 

From the outside looking in this doesn’t come across as Varian ‘overcoming’ his ‘fear’. It looks like an abuse victim using learned helplessness to placate his abusers.

And yes, for the last time Rapunzel is Varian’s abuser. 

NEGLECT IS ABUSE!!! 

And and even though he is no longer her ‘responsibility’, she is still neglecting him emotionally as his supposed friend. 

Varian’s and Cassandra’s Stories Undermined Each Other’s 

Varian stopped the rocks. Rapunzel had nothing to do with it. Zhan Tiri blaming Rapunzel for it steals agency away from both her and Cassandra. 

However, if Rapunzel had used the hurt incantation to stop the rocks and Cassandra had felt it rom the other side, then you’d have something to back up Zhan Tiri’s claim and an actual point of real conflict to carry the rest of the season. Not to mention an actual tangible goal for Cassandra to work towards, survival. 

Cassandra’s conflict with Rapunzel not only prevents the resolution to Varian’s arc from being satisfying, but Varian fulfilling his arc in turn winds up cutting off Cass’s story at the knees. 

It didn’t have to be this way. Varian’s and Cassandra’s arcs should have complimented each other, but instead the creator decided to make them complete for screen time and relevance. 

It is such an gratingly stupid and petty decision that winds up being a disservice for all the characters involved.   

Cassandra’s motivation and goal should have been revealed back in season two. Varian should have been the sole focus of Rapunzel’s Return and gotten his big hero moment there along; with an actual ending to his conflict with Rapunzel that didn’t feel so lopsided and half assed. Then Rapunzel and Cassandra could have both been held accountable for their conflict in season three, instead of pretending like their shit smelled of roses the whole damn time. 

Lance Got a Whole Crowd Cheering Him On For Singing a Song, Varian Just Gets One Asshole Giving Him a Single Line of Congratulations

Did I mention this show has an odd anti-Varian bias? Cause it does. For whatever reasons his own creators hate him and that’s just utterly baffling to me. Like why create a main character that you don’t like?��

I look down on professional writers who treat characters they didn’t create poorly within their works, like with James Gunn and Scrappy Doo in the Scooby Doo Movie, Adric in the Doctor Who spin offs, or even the treatment of Doofus in Ducktales 2017. I don't care how much a character is liked or disliked by fandom, that shit is just tasteless and often unfunny. But at least I understand where they are coming from when they do it. 

But I’ll never understand what compels a writer to sabotage their own work; one that they are getting paid to write no less. Especially when said character is super popular with their fans. And Chris knows this. He knows the ratings plummeted without Varian in season two. He knows the merch didn’t sell because there wasn’t enough Varian products. That’s why he hyped up Varian’s return a whole week before Season Three’s airing with a massive online campaign, but he wasn’t smart enough to treat the character decently afterwards? 

I mean congrats, you convinced a just enough viewers to come back to season three to keep the show on the air I guess, but you left them all pissed off and have nothing to show for it to the higher ups a Disney. 

And Chris wonders why he wasn’t asked back to work on new Disney princesses shows that are currently in the works. 

That is Not Quirin. That is a Plank of Wood Pretending to be Quirin.

*Beep* *Boop*...*Dad Bot Is Proud. exe* 

Quirin is such a pale shadow of his season one self that he might as well not exist. I genuinely don't know why the writers released from the amber so early if they weren’t actually going to use him until the season finale. 

For the longest time I honestly thought that Rapunzel sucked out his soul with that decay incantation; what with that lyric about “setting the spirit free”. I genuinely thought that would be a later plot point, but nope, it’s just bad writing

Him just saying hi to son once and smiling blankly isn’t compelling and it’s isn’t fulfilling. It doesn’t actually resolve his arc. I mean he’s at least shown spending time with his son, but that’s not enough. We need to see him acknowledge past, we need to see him acknowledge his own flaws, and we need to see him being more attentive when Varian is in need. .  

Season one Quirin would be trying to stop Varian from going near the red rocks, a post season one Quirin should logically go after his son to make sure he’s alright, even if he’s know longer trying to actively stop Varian like he once did. 

There’s also that damn note and it’s secrets! 

You know what? That’s it. That’s the problem. The focus is all wrong in season three. Episodes get pulled into to many directions trying to juggle too many characters rather than dedicating the needed time to each individual arc. 

Season two’s finale should have been a three parter with Cass’s full motivation and goal laid bare before leaving.

Rapunzel’s Return should have been solely about Rapunzel and Varian’s conflict and resolving that arc fully 

Either Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf or Day of the Animals should have been a Lance episode about him and the girl’s, no Rapunzel. 

And this episode should have been about Quirin and Varian resolving their issues, with the Rapunzel and Cass stuff as the B plot not the stupid talent show 

There, all fixed. You don't even have to cut much, just rework the focus and leave Rapunzel and Cassandra out of conflicts they have no business being in. 

This Does Not Excuse Rapunzel’s Later Negligence Regarding Cassandra

Just because the red rocks was an accident doesn’t mean Cassandra should get a free pass for all the awful things she does later. Rapunzel uses this one interaction to excuse everything else Cassandra does in season three, as if she was just some poor lost baby and not a grown ass woman out to kill them. 

In fact Cass showing hesitancy here actually makes her later actions even worse. This means that she fully acknowledges that what she’s about to do is wrong, but goes ahead and does anyway, even gleefully so at times. Then she has to gall to act baffled when people see her as a threat? 0.o 

When fans say Cass isn’t redeemable or shouldn’t be redeemed, it’s not because he actions are so much worse than everybody else’s (even though they are), It’s because she doesn’t act like she wants to be redeemed half the time. The show doesn’t properly set up her ‘redemption’, instead it just lazily has Rapunzel yell at us how she’s ‘not lost’. 

Like below for instance. 

What Does Cass Need Saving From?

Cassandra is not in danger. She is the danger. 

She made the conscious decision to leave taking a world endangering artifact with her, and she later makes the conscious decision to come back and be an asshole for no adequately defined reason. 

She’s never shown to be in any physical danger from the rocks, the moonstone, or even Zhan Tiri herself. She apparently can take care of herself in the wild for over a year. She also has the capability of getting a job else where and just living out her life if she wanted to. Nothing is forcing her to listen to Zhan Tiri. 

Heck, even her hurt arm, the one thing Rapunzel is responsible for and could potentially be a continued threat to Cass’s well being, is just completely forgotten about.

And no, mental illness and past trauma are not excuses as well. In fact it’s rather insulting to both people with mental heath problems and abusive survivors to suggest otherwise. We don't need ‘saving from ourselves’ and we aren’t automatically dangers to anybody. Nor do we get free passes if we hurt someone. A jerk who happens to have a mental illness is just a jerk who so happens to have a mental illness; coloration is not causation. 

Conclusion 

It’s better than Rapunzel’s Return, but this episode was still a disappointment. A small part of me whishes this was a two parter because it has so much untapped potential, but I know it’s just be wasted in Chris’s hands. 

Anyways, I consider this to be the true mid-season finale of S3. Not only did the hiatus kick in after this episode, but it also clearly divides the season between the first half filler and the later Cass conflict. As such the next entry will be the mid-season recap. See ya, then. 

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[parkers-gal]

Hey lovie, so Idk if you take requests but based on the other fic I read about Harrison having a baby sister and the boys talking behind her back can you write something about reader keeping her boyfriend a secret from the boys and she’s out with some friends and Harry sees the friends insta story and seeing reader in the corner on a boys lap and they Drive as fast a possible to the location to get haz babysister and being all protective around her like „what do you do on a random boys lap?“ and she’s like „uh, he’s my boyfriend.“

combing this with another request, hope u don’t mind :)

Hey! I've just read circles before selves and I loved it so much!! 😔 if you feel like it fits, could you write a part 2 where one of the boys has feelings for yn and really missed her during that time? Really angst? Thanks, bby! ❤❤

wc: 1.7 k

—

Through the week you’d ghosted the four of them, Tom had probably been affected the most. Being your brother’s best friend, he was very much intertwined with your life, which meant he was just as dependent on you as he was on Harrison.

The night after their apology in your apartment, Tom had come over with more take out and one of his hoodies on his arm.

“Hey… Tom?” You were surprised by his presence, standing in the doorway of the front entrance, Tom on your patio. “What’s up?”

“Can I- uh… Can I talk to you?” “Sure…” You’re still confused, but nevertheless, open the door wider for him.

Tom has always been your protector in a different way than Harrison’s ‘older-brother protective mode.’ He’s genuinely cared about your well-being, and tended to keep you out of the public’s eyes despite you not being a celebrity. He was there when you needed a ride home in the rain, and he was there when your ex-boyfriend had cheated on you with your best friend. He was there, angrily, supportively, encouragingly. Sure, he gave you butterflies, but you as another rule of the circle goes, siblings are off limits. Nobody had ever broken the rule, and you suspected Tom wasn’t here to break it either, so you dropped the thoughts from your mind, attention resorting back to the brunette in front of you.

“What’s happening?” You’re awkwardly sitting on the couch beside him until the tension fades away into nothingness. It’s never like this between the two of you, but you’re picking apart the context, pointing out in your head his demeanor — and why this time feels different.

“I, erhm,” He clears his throat. “I really missed you those past two weeks.”

“Aww,” You jutt a lip out, assuming that’s all he’s here for. Restoring those lost cuddles, huh? “I really missed you, too.” “That’s… not exactly what I mean.”

“Okay…” You lean back a bit in defeat. “What do you mean, then?”

“I mean… I’ve had feelings for you for a while.” He’s blushing profusely, scratching the back of his neck out of nervousness. Your eyes widen and he’s quick to continue, not wanting to shock you too much. “And- And I know it’s so fucking cliche — your brother’s best friend likes you — and I know that we have that stupid rule about not going out with your best friend’s siblings but I just… I don’t want to go away on- on… business or something and come back and you’re somebody else’s girl.”

You can’t help but let a grin take over your face. You can feel yourself heating up, hands coming to block your face from his view, trying to save your dignity and keep the embarrassment to a minimum despite him spilling his heart out right in front of you.

“Do… do you feel the same way?” You bite your lip before picking your head up. He’s so innocent — so sweet and so gentle and tender and pure with his words — and the glint of hope in his eyes could make your heart burst. It doesn’t, but instead flutters faster, wings flapping as it prepares to take flight. You’re afraid of where it’s going, but you decide to let it fly right in the hands of the boy standing in front of you.

“I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.” You confess it sheepishly. Tom’s quick to grow redder, ears turning a scarlet shade.

“The- the same way?”

“Yeah,” You breathe out a laugh. “I have feelings for you, too.” “That’s…” He trails off with a smile before remembering the hoodie he has in his hands. “Do you, uh- do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He holds the article of clothing out as an offer, widening your grin as you stand with a nod. “Yeah,” You take the hoodie from him, slipping it on smoothly. His smirk grows at the sight of you in his clothing. “You’ll be my boyfriend?”

He rolls his eyes jokingly, laughing with a happy smile. “Yeah.”

That is how you ended up here, at a bar with a few of your friends. Aisha and her girlfriend sit on your right — you’re on the inside of the crowded booth, sitting atop Tom’s lap to save space and to nuzzle closer to him. He’d told his brothers and yours that he was going up north to Manchester for the weekend.

In reality, he was secretly staying in your apartment, which was a few miles from the flat he shared with Harrison and the twins. The two of you were downtown right now, dressed for clubbing despite only downing a few shots. He’s dressed a bit differently than from his normal ‘clubbing’ outfits — you style him in dark grey slacks and a mesh shirt. His hair was slightly messy but hotter than ever, and your fingers constantly took a trip through the strands of curls, massaging his scalp while he groaned occasionally.

(Yeah fuck me, that esquire picture fucked me up for days.)

He’s holding a beer, now, one hand on your waist. Your legs are splayed across his lap, ass on his thigh comfortably while an arm wraps around the back of his neck. It’s comfortable — and intimate, but neither of you mind. It’s barely nine o’clock, and Aisha had insisted on paying for one of those stupid clubbing games. A waiter had brought the drinks over, and now each of you were going around to answer the questions as best they could with the amount of alcohol in their veins.

The two girls across from you were drinking the most, but Aisha’s girlfriend, Iridessa, was designated driver for the night, so the rest of your friend group was fine with getting wasted.

“Time for a cute pic,” Andrea announced, beckoning the cute waiter over for a favor. He took the picture on your Instagram, handing it back to you while you posted it to your story in seconds.

Your pose against Tom was cozy, and his face was hidden in the crook of your neck — you remember this fact very well, because he’d left a few open-mouthed kisses against your skin in the middle of the picture. His hair was different, and you hoped the only correlation between him and the boy your brother knew was that his lanky fingers were gripping a glass of beer.

Within a matter of minutes, each of Tom’s brothers — and your own — were replying to the post of you cuddled up with a ‘mysterious boy.’ They were currently discussing it in the Instagram groupchat, and Tom was trying to act as surprised, but he was being vague, too preoccupied with the girl in his lap.

You clicked the off button, setting your phone down on the wooden table, deciding to let them chatter away and deciphering who you were with and why. That was a mistake, because they had decided to talk about it in their kitchen, eventually deciding to drive down to the bar you were at. It was only a fifteen minute drive — what was the harm?

You were caught off guard by the door swinging open, emerging three boys searching for you. You gasped, alerting Tom and Aisha that if they did see you, your relationship would be outed. You tried to hide away in the booth, go as unnoticed as possible. You saw them go to the back of the bar, where more people were located, and breathed out in relief. They wouldn’t be leaving that room anytime soon — it was too crowded.

You remained in your seat, joining the game normally again. You missed the way Harrison had gasped, eyes widening as he pointed to you for the twins to see. They came practically marching over to your booth to get a better look at the brown-haired boy whose lap you were seated in.

“Y/N?” Harrison asked, another gasp escaping. “Tom?!” Your jaw dropped open, eyebrows raising against your forehead. You felt Tom’s hand squeeze your waist in acknowledgement — in protectiveness — and you tried to act as normal as possible.

“Hi.” You spoke meekly, something Harrison had rolled his eyes at.

“Tom?!” Harry was just as surprised. “You’re supposed to be in Manchester! For the weekend!” “Right…” He laughed sheepishly. “Surprise? I’m sorry, I lied.” He tried again, noticing Harrison’s jaw tense, clenching and unclenching.

“You’re…. You’re with my baby sister?!”

Tom nibbled his bottom lip and you placed a calming hand on his chest. “Guys, don’t freak out. You’re gonna cause a scene.” You eyed them. “Especially you, Haz.” He shifted on his feet, dominantly leaning on his right one.

“You’re breaking rule number two.”

You didn’t falter as you responded, without missing a beat. “You broke rule number one, first.”

He didn’t answer, and you could sense Aisha and Iridessa were awkwardly sitting between you and the boys. The tension was thicker than you thought it’d be, so you decided to speak again, filling the silence before Harrison had a breakdown in front of everyone.

“Look, can we just talk about this later? I’m with people right now, I can’t really have this conversation here.”

“Fine.” Harrison agreed, but he sneered closer to Tom, eyes crisp and jaw tight. “But you’re not off the hook, Tommy.”

Tom nodded nonchalantly, sipping his beer before replying. “Do you mind? My girl and I are a bit busy.”

You bit your lip at his words, knees weakening and stomach erupting in butterflies. This boy-

That seemed to tick Harrison off in a teasing way before they finally left the bar. You exhaled in relief, gasping at Tom. “That’s literally saying something to my dad like ‘you’re not the only daddy anymore!’” You compared the instances. “You’re a cheeky bastard.” You slapped his shoulder. Tom let out a loud laugh, chuckling while his hand rubbed up and down your side. “You know Harrison’s still gonna be pissed, though.” You sighed and Tom pouted, kissing your nose to grab your attention.

“It’s gonna be okay, alright?” You nodded, a bit unconvinced, and Tom clicked his tongue. “Trust me?”

You nodded again, faithfully, and he smirked, squeezing your hip again. You brought his hand to you, guiding the glass to your lips and sipping his beer. He watched you through hooded eyelids, tongue running across his bottom lip, across his teeth. You could see his pupils dilate, and you smirked from behind the cup, fingers slipping from his hand with a small smirk, turning back to the girls and continuing the game just as you had before.

[mrs-takami-keigo]

Idk if you do nsfw but... Hawks masturbating while thinking of his crush and moaning their name, then their crush walks in on them and they have sexxy timee

NSFW is my middle name~ Especially when it comes to my bird husband. I also made this a non-binary reader and this was my first time doing that, I hope you like it and it’s not horrible!

I’m slowly going through all my requests, I’m sorry it’s taking so long. My job has me working INSANE hours but I'm tryna get back into the swing of things. I have three days off this week so I’m hoping I can get more requests done, also I am working on Something to Somebody part 3. So maybe that will come out too!!

Parings Hawks X Non-Binary! Reader

Rating:Explicit!!! 18+ 

Permanent tag list: @gr0vndz3ro @katsukikitten @prismaroyal @hawks-senseis @kingtamakimurder 

You stood at the door in utter and complete shock. Your boss, Hawks, had his pants open, head resting on the back of the small couch in his office while his wings were stretched out behind him. Cock in his hand, slowly moving his hand up and down the hardened shaft. Small whimpers fell from his lips before he bit them as he moaned your name.

You felt your stomach drop, but in a good way. Just the sight of him, cheeks flushed, lips red from him biting them, eyes closed as he continued to say your name under his breath like a mantra, had you more turned on than you have been in your entire life. You always had a crush on Hawks but never thought that he might reciprocate them.

Gently, you placed the two bags of food you picked up for dinner in your hands on the floor. Tip-toeing towards the back of the couch, you were amazed at how you were able to get this close without his heightened senses detecting you entering the office. Hawks was so lost in him imagining your lips around him bringing him to new heights, that he had never heard you open the door.

Finally, you were behind him, his soft moans and whimpers sounded even more beautiful when you got closer. Taking both your pointer fingers you ran them through his feathers, your lips next to his ear.

“Do you need any help there, birdman?”

Golden eyes snapped open as a soft gasp filled the air. Hawks stopped his movements, he hurried to try and cover himself up.

“Tsk Tsk, no point in trying to hide it. You obviously wanted to get caught, touching yourself like that in the middle of your office.” Reaching over him, you grabbed his hands, moving and pinning them to his sides. You could see his chest moving with each deep breath he took, his breath shaky.

“Are you this hard because you thought of me?” His cock laid against his stomach, hard as a rock. You could see a small amount of pre-cum spill out as it twitched, it made your mouth water.

Hawks could only moan in acknowledgment, afraid that this was just a dream, and if he spoke he’d wake up. “Were you thinking of me touching you, that my hands gripping your dick instead of your own?”  You spoke through your teeth as you said that, soft lips brushing against his now red ear, his cheeks just as red.

Keeping your eyes on his cock, you watched as it twitched against him again. “I see someone is getting more excited.” You pushed away from him as you stalked around the couch. Hawks kept his eyes on you, watching as you unbuttoned your pants.

Once in front of the hero, you shimmed out of the clothing on your lower half, pulling your underwear down with it. You’ve never been this exposed in front of Hawks, but the look in his eyes made you feel loved and desired. His eyes were dark with lust but full of so much love, even when he grabbed you by the waist to bring you closer to him, his eyes never left your own.

“You have no idea how much I crave you. How fucking crazy you drive me, each and every day.” Hawks was still sitting on the couch as he ran a hand over your chest, watching as you took in a shuddered breath when he got close to your sex. Guiding you, Hawks dragged you closer to him, your thighs on either side of his own, straddling him. You could feel his hands run all over your body, exploring you. Your own hands found purchase in his blonde locks, gently gripping it when his hands ran over your bare ass.

“As much as I would love to tease you, I don’t think I can hold myself back any longer baby.” He moved his hips against you, making his cock rub against you, showing you just how bad he needed you.

You moaned as he rubbed against your quivering hole, each move made you feral with desire for the man under you. Reaching around your body you took hold of his throbbing cock, a small hiss came from Hawks his eyes rolling in the back of his head. Taking a deep breath you guided him to your awaiting entrance, watching his face as he slowly slid into you.

“Fuck….” Hawks said with a long sigh as every inch of him was being surrounded by your tight walls. His hands on your hips tightened, his nails leaving marks on your delicate skin.

The only word for you to describe what it felt like to have Hawks feeling filling you was divine. One of your hands laid flat against his chest while the other gripped the back of the couch. The sound of your soft moan and Hawks ragged breathing were the only sounds you could hear in the large office. You sat still, eyes closed as your body was adjusting to his size.

You felt a soft hand cup your cheek, a thumb gently swiped across your parted lips. Opening your eyes, you looked down at the man below you, you felt the little air that was in your lungs escape. He looked even more beautiful now than he ever had. Soft blond locks fell in front of those serene golden eyes that were peaking through the fallen fringe to look at you. Cheeks red and a small glimmer of sweat glistened on his forehead. The late summer sunset shone through the windows, silhouetting those stunning vermillion wings that were slightly stretched out.

“Whenever you are ready, love bird.” His voice was soft, nothing but love and affection dripped from the words he spoke.

Slowly you lifted your hips slightly, the feeling of him sliding out of you and then sliding back in caused you to moan only this time a little louder. You did that a couple of times as your body started to get accustomed to the beautiful love you and Hawks were making.

“God you feel so fucking good.” Hawks started to move his hips against you, meeting your thrust which sent a new wave of pleasure to course through your body. “That's right baby, I wanna hear you. I wanna know how good this makes you feel.”

With each thrust your moans became louder and louder, Hawks’ praises and thrusts were becoming too much for you to handle and he knew. Wrapping his arm around your waist Hawks lifted himself from the couch, placing your back against the seat cushions while he remained on top of you, your legs were moved to go over his shoulders, his cock still inside.

Hawks pulled his hips away from you, then snapping them forward. With this new position, Hawks was able to go deeper inside of you, hitting that soft sweet spot that made your toes curl.

“Do that again, please.” Your arms were above your head, trying to find the arm of the couch to hold on to as Hawks brought you to cloud nine.

“Anything for you love bird.” And just like that he had you gasping, gripping the couch with your nails, eyes rolling into the back for your head as he continuously hit that same spot over and over again.

“Fuck Hawks.” The only things that popped up in your head was his name and a whole string of profanities.

“Keigo….call me Keigo.” He had placed a hand around the lower part of your neck, slightly applying pressure.

“Keep going just like that Keigo, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Hawks’ pace picked up as he continued his thrusts. You could feel yourself coming close to that blissful release, and you wanted him to cum with you. To reach that same high. Grabbing him by the back of his neck you brought him down to you, your lips barely touching. His movements never stopped as he looked deeply into your eyes.

You could see just how vulnerable he was at this moment, just how much he cares for you. As if you were the most precious person in the world to him. Licking your lips, you lifted your chin, his slightly chapped lips met yours.

Opening your mouth you let your tongue dance with his. You could melt just from his kisses alone, they were a little on the animalistic side yet full still full of passion. His strokes started to become sloppy, signaling that he too was close.

Pulling away from his lips, you kept your hand on the back of his neck, massaging it lovingly, your forehead pressed against his. His hair falling in your face.

“Cum with me Keigo, please.”

“Fuck baby.” You moaned so loud you were positive the people walking on the street could hear you even if you were on the thirtieth floor. Hawks was moaning and grunting on top of you, God were they beautiful moans.

Watching you saw his wings spread open, showing off their length. “Look at me lovebird.” Your eyes met his and with a few more strokes you came for the man with wings that had flown into your heart and he came in you. His wings shivering as he did, his mouth brushed against yours as he tried to catch his breath.

You felt dizzy and hot as you both rode out your orgasm. Hawks pressed butterfly kisses against your lips as both your heart rates calmed down.

When you both felt your breathing come back to normal, Hawks pulled out of you, not before placing kisses all over your face as he continued to whisper sweet nothings against your hot skin.

“Do I smell food, specifically chicken?”  Hawks was laying on top of you, his face pressed against the crook of your neck, where he decided would be a good place to leave a fairly large mark.

“You are so freaking annoying.” You shook your head at the blonde. He smiled down at you, before leaning down pressing his lips against yours. You couldn’t help but smile against him, as annoying as he could be, you still loved him.

[maybebanks]

That Side of You

JJ Maybank x Reader

⚠️: allusions to abuse, anxiety

“Y/n why don’t you take that off and enjoy the sun!” JJ smiles, waving his beer as he said it.

“Nice try,” you rolled your eyes at JJs attempt to see you in your bikini. You had on black shorts and a beige oversized t-shirt. On of your staples recently.

“What’s up with you?” JJ asked, sitting down next to you. You could feel the interrogation coming on. And then would come the pity.

“Back off JJ,” you warned, getting up and moving to the other side of the boat.

“What’s up her ass?” You heard JJ ask John B.

“Huh. Y/n turn you down? Again?” John B joked in a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah right dipshit. As if she could turn down my charms,” JJ winked.

“She can and she did, JJ,” Kiara laughes.

“Whatever. Diver down folks!” JJ shouted, saluting you before plunging into the dark blue ocean of the marsh.

You envied him. His constant happiness, and humor. But not enough to let him convince you to be happy.

You didn’t have time for that. Not anymore. What was the reason anyway?

“Hey,” Pope nudges you from behind. You’re startled, so you jump back, tensing and involuntarily gasping.

“Jeez. I know JJ is an idiot but you have been acting strange lately,” Pope inquires, furrowing his brows in thought.

It was sweet. They cared. But that wasn’t enough to make you show them. To make you cry. To look weak.

“Can everyone please get off my ass,” you groaned, reaching for a beer.

JJ has made it out of the water, and has now snuck up behind you and was going to join you in the effort to get a beer. But instead, he came up with a new idea.

JJ reaches foreward towards the cooler, but then saw u bending down and decided to slap your ass.

It was a gentle tap, but you still felt it. And immediately straighten.

You turned around and saw JJ smiling. But when he saw your expression it dropped slightly.

“Had to see if it was tight,” JJ shrugged, walking backwards nervously.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you warned.

“Shitt, mama’s mad,” he joked, turning around quickly towards the other edge of the boat.

“I swear to God JJ!!” You screamed, chasing after him.

You nearly grabbed him, but he slipped away and jumped off the boat, diving head first.

You scoffed when his head rose up again.

“Whoo!” He said, flipping his hair causing water to splash off.

“You touch my ass again, and I’ll kick yours,” you threatened, turning your back and taking a swig of the beer JJ left behind.

“The adrenaline from that, man,” JJ muttered as the whole group laughed under the sun.

-

“Hey,” JJ said to you ask you both walked down the dock and headed to the grounds of the Chateau.

“What now?” You asked impatiently.

“I thought uh we could talk?” JJ mentioned. Throwing on one of his cut off tees.

“About?” you shrugged him off.

JJ seemed as if he didn’t want to get into it. He just had been feeling off, about the way you were acting. Sure you were always this confident, tough girl, but he had recently seen the signs. Signs that he himself had exhibited. When he had a particularly nasty run in with his dad.

“Look-“

“Whatever...J...I don’t wanna get all serious right now. Rather just get high,” you shrugged, partly ignoring him in general.

JJ wasn’t one to get serious, and he could tell you were pushing him away. So he figured he’d wait until you were more open.

Before he could respond though, you disappeared down the hallway.

Your shower gave you time to think, you decided it was ultimately best to avoid JJ. You’ve been trying to push him away with your words, but that only made him chase you.

You walked into John B’s room and found a clean shirt to throw on, and used some pj shorts you left over.

Before you could collapse onto the bed, a light knock erupted on the open door.

“You crashing here tonight?” JJ asked you, throwing you a tired smile.

“I am, yeah. That a problem?” You responded.

JJ shook his head, “No, no. As long as your okay sleeping with me,” JJ said, pulling his shirt over his head and hopping into the bed.

“Wait what? I- I’m sleeping here! I had the couch last time,” you argued, gesturing for him to get out of the bed.

He continued to settle under the covers, “Pope’s got the couch,” he shrugged.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

“It’s no big deal, Y/n. I don’t snore, remember?” he yawns.

You groaned. But reluctantly got in the bed on the other side of JJ.

He smiled at you. You rolled your eyes and laughed at his stupid smirk.

But before you could get comfortable, your ears perked up at the sound of glass shattering.

You sat up straight, feeling your back tense and your fists clench.

JJ noticed at propped himself up against the wall.

After a few minutes, nothing happened. So JJ leaned over you and turned off the light.

You were zoned out, so you barely noticed.

“Goodnight,” JJ whispered. Lying flat on his back.

“Good-“ you stopped when you heard shouting from outside the door.

“What the fuck?! You broke this shit!” You heard John B shout.

Him and Pope began to fight. Throwing insults left and right.

“Dude that was my last picture!!! You broke the fucking frame!”

“Chill! Your acting like a maniac!” Pope retaliated.

You felt your anxiety kick in when the insults started getting worse. Neither one of the boys were going to stop.

You brought your hands over your ears and smashed your face into the pillow.

“We’re trying to sleep in here!!” JJ yelled from beside you. You gasped in surprise.

JJ then looked at you, through the dim lighting he could clearly tell you were struggling.

You started rolling to the side, closer to him.

He heard you muttering softly, “don’t listen...don’t listen,” you told yourself.

JJs heart dropped. He could hear everything from your heartbeat to your breathing.

JJ was frozen. He didn’t want to scare you away with affection, and he was also afraid of rejection.

You tossed closer to him. Burying your head in the pillow near his shoulder. Tensing up at the sound of raised voices.

“Uh...” JJ said, it was all he could think of, Y/n was acting totally out of character.

Y/n sniffled a bit. Then immediately moved back away from JJ.

“Oh shit...uh sorry,” you mumbled, realizing JJ was uncomfortable with you.

“No..uh no it’s okay,” JJ stuttered, but it was too late, you already turned around. Curing into a ball, facing the opposite way.

“Y/n, really. I’m just shocked...I mean you never act like this-“ JJ rambled.

“Shut up,” you told him. It was harsh and fast.

“Y/n I’m not trying to-“

“Stop talking, JJ,” you warned.

“You don’t have to push me away-“

“SHUT UP!” you shouted. Covering your ears with your palms once again. Breathing heavily again.

JJs lips pursed together, in his gut he felt hurt by the way you yelled at him. He wanted you to reveal what was bothering you.

JJ waited a few minutes before making any movements, just listening to you breathe.

He finally turned to face you, resting his head on one arm.

You flinched at the noise, but when you finally took in your surroundings you realized the yelling from John B had stopped.

You just realized the vulnerability you were in. You just snapped at JJ and he was going to want an explanation.

You turned to face him, eyes wide as you looked into his.

“I shouldn’t have...snapped at you like that. I’m...uh sorry,” you admitted.

You never usually apologized, it was something that had always been hard for you.

JJ took note of this, but didn’t want to point it out.

“You can talk to me, you know? I can tell there’s something you need to talk about,” JJ said, it was weird being this emotional with you.

“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have freaked,” you said, taking in a deep breath.

“When your ready,” JJ said, letting you know that he wasn’t going to believe your lies that you were “fine”.

You nodded, and something in the way JJ was looking at you, made you slowly move towards him. Resting your head on his shoulder.

He smiled lightly, and you closed your eyes.

He sat still for a few moments, then, you felt his hand meet your waist.

It was a shock, which was why you reacted the way you did.

You gasped with a sharp intake of breath, pushing JJ back by the chest.

“Hey, hey, stay calm Y/n,”

“I- I... um,” you didn’t know what to say, you didn’t want to throw out another apology because then the other one would be meaningless.

“Did I hurt you?” JJ whispered.

You shook your head, “I’m just a little on edge...don’t mean to freak you out. Can we just forget this ever happened?” You pleaded.

“No,” JJ blurted.

You scoffed, “excuse me?”

“I’m not going to forget that you’ve been hiding this side of you. And it’s been eating you up,” JJ said, he knew a thing or two about ignoring emotions.

Soon enough everything you’ve bottled up would come out.

“That’s not what this is,” you lied, sitting up, your back up from the covers.

“Why did the yelling make you so upset?” JJ asked, mirroring your actions.

You bit your lip, trying to make a decision, “I just don’t like it,”

“Jesus, Y/n. I’ve already told you you’re not going to push me away!” JJ argued.

“You want to know my secrets, JJ? They’re secrets for a reason. Now for the last time, lay off!” you said, then before he could persist, you got out of the bed. Walking out the door.

“Y/n! C’mon!” JJ called after you, getting up as wel to follow you.

On your way out, you bumped into John B. He was passing back and forth, holding a picture frame filled with broken glass.

His hands were slightly bloody, he probably cut himself on the glass.

“Uh sorry,” you said nervously, stepping back.

“Get back in the room, Y/n,” John B groaned, he was annoyed, but also angry.

“I was actually going to sleep out here, with Pope or-“

John B cut you off, “you’re fucking delusional Y/n! You think you can just come and stay in my house whenever you want?!” He shouted.

You stepped back, fear settling, you didn’t like being yelled at.

“No. I need a place to stay. You-you said I could crash here,” you mentioned.

“John B scoffed. My house is for the damned Y/n! Me? My dad is gone! My mom? Gone too! You just go back home to your perfect little life!” He screamed, waving his hands left and right.

Tears started to fall involuntary, you kept walking backwards until your back collided with JJ.

“Hey, John B, chill alright?” JJ reasoned.

“You know why JJ’s here?! His mom fucking dipped and his dad beats him!” John B went on.

“W-what?” You didn’t know that, you turned to see JJ. He was staring at the floor.

“Go home Y/n. To your perfect little life because no one fucking wants you here!” John B raged.

Your hand wiped tears off your cheeks. You wanted to leave but you were frozen.

“You watch your mouth, man.” JJ stepped foreward, “don’t take your anger out on her. She’s had enough,”

John B didn’t say anything after that, and you didn’t want to give him the chance. So you left the chateau, running out the door to nowhere. Your destination wouldn’t ever be home as long as you had a say in it.

“Y/n!!!” JJ’s voice called your name. But you didn’t stop, you didn’t stop running.

JJ turned his adrenaline on for running, usually the cops did that for him, but he knew you needed him. He couldn’t leave you after what had just happened.

part 2

[sochilll]

Thoughts about the deh movie? What did you like, what did you not like?

I have SO many thoughts and I’m sure other people are gonna explain them much better so I’ll give you a top 5 on each side. (Also I did make a long ass story highlight of all my thoughts on my insta @ be_more_sochill always be plugging). Under the read more cause it’s long and for spoilers!

Likes

Jared Kalwani does is gay! I think they handled it pretty well. They just switched an existing line bragging about a girl to make it about a guy and gay him a pride patch! The “honey” moment was…….. a choice. But I didn’t think it was a big deal considering the tone of that scene. All around it was fun n good and makes sense that it wasn’t a major plot point given that Jared’s love life isn’t relevant to the story

Alana gets feelings! There was a lot of Alana changes I didn’t love tbh. But I really liked the scene of her talking to Evan in the park. It was a good connection moment and showed that while Alana feels the same as Evan, she actually sees that feeling in others too whereas Evan thinks he’s the only one.

Maybe cheating to make these two points but: Anonymous Ones! I really liked this song. It was good as a song, miss Amandla Stenberg has a beautiful voice, and it was good character development. I am disappointed they missed the fucking PERFECT opportunity to show a clip of Jared during the school shots god that would’ve been so good. But anyway, I really liked the addition

They gave us a few little kleinsen treats such as: Jared randomly telling Evan he put on 13 pounds of muscle and hooked up with some guy, and of course, Jared looking at a video of Evan and Zoe and being visibly upset literally in the middle of Only Us. Chefs kiss thank you

I did like the new ending of Evan actually trying to learn about Connor. Reading his favorite books, reaching out to old friends, finding the video. I felt like that showed how everything hit him and how he actually did care about what they were doing. I really liked that he sent the flash drives to Alana and Jared too.

Dislikes

Evan (and everyone else) isn’t responsible for anything. Other people have already talked about this but they removed everyone’s agency pretty much until the only people making bad decisions were people (like Alana) who didn’t *know* they were making them. Almost every single choice Evan makes in the stage version is taken from him. Cynthia literally just comes up with the idea of emails so Evan just has to agree. Alana comes up with the Connor Project and Evan says *no* at first before being pressured into it. Evan doesn’t even kiss Zoe or make the first (or any) move at all with her. There’s no mention of Cynthia and Larry making mistakes in regards to helping Connor except like one line before words fail. Plus, making Larry a step dad completely changes his role into like a hero for raising this difficult kid who “wasn’t his” or whatever. Jared is no longer the driving force behind Evan lying. He softly suggests that it would upset the Murphy’s to know the truth one time. He doesn’t freak Evan out and tell him he needs Jared’s help to pull it off. Everything is perfectly set up for Evan to just quietly nod along without doing anything himself. It undermines the message of the original show. It’s ABOUT people doing bad things. It’s about guilt and regret and GROWING from your mistakes. That can’t happen if no one is to blame.

Alana is very different. She’s quiet and you can sort of tell she has some stuff going on. Which is ???? The opposite of how she’s supposed to be. The whole point of her character was to show that even the loud, confident, outgoing, always good attitude girl feels alone and scared and sad. That doesn’t come across when her self doubt is prominent right away. It’s not as big of a shock when she gets her “I know what it’s like to feel invisible!” Moment. Maybe that’s why they didn’t even let her have it. She literally had to *whisper* her confrontation with Evan. Like they were so afraid to let her raise her voice they made her confront Evan for lying to her about this horrible thing in the library. Let her fucking yell!

Zoe and Evan’s getting together was so fucking weird. Without Evan kissing Zoe first, she doesn’t even know he likes her before launching into her love song for him. But more importantly, Only Us is not a “let’s start dating” song??? The lyrics are clearly about people who have been together. “What we’ve got going is good”??? What have you got going? A weird friendship where he’s trying to steal your parents???? It didn’t make sense. Also I don’t like how Zoe is the one to say “I wish we could’ve met now” at the end. I feel like it doesn’t make sense/feel right for her to say it.

Heidi. I’m sorry Julianne Moore but I can’t stand movie Heidi. She has zero emotion. The good for you fight was just SO boring and bland. She sounded vaguely annoyed. That scene is supposed to be SAD. Yeah she’s angry with Evan but she’s also SO heartbroken that he’s found this other family he loves so much. She’s hurt that he’s apparently been telling them how bad his home life is. She feels like she’s not doing enough for him and that makes her both sad and angry. In the stage version she’s on the verge of tears and she’s yelling and RBJ kills it. I got none of that from the movie. It was just a tense conversation. And because of that, Evan’s final “it’s not my fault other people can” had absolutely none of the punch it usually does. That’s a *gasp* moment in the show. It fell so flat. (I also didn’t like her version of so big/so small for similar reasons. She didn’t seem all that affected by Evan’s reveal :/)

And of course the biggest offense to me personally. Jared got fucked over so bad. They removed anything that gave him any development. Not just didn’t expand on it, fully removed it. He’s basically gone for the second act. He’s way less involved with the lying and the emails and TCP. And once the initial “I can do emails” plot is out of the way he’s just gone. He gets a few reaction shots looking at his phone and that’s it. And the worst part to me is the fact that they added those shots anyway. They put them in there to SHOW that Jared was upset. And then they just DIDNT RESOLVE IT HE DIDNT GET TO CONFRONT EVAN AT ALL. THEY DIDNT EVEN SPEAK IT JUST HARD CUTS TO “oh it’s graduation and we’re friends again”. It completely erases Jared’s entire character. He also feels alone and desperately wants to connect (specifically with Evan). We know that through the bits of him we see in the show ESPECIALLY during good for you. And they trashed all of that so he could be the funny side character.

Bonus dislike: they showed the scene of Evan falling so many fucking times and it was just so tasteless. Like… why was that necessary.

All in all I did enjoy it as a separate entity but comparing it to the stage version which I love so much, it was so, so disappointing for me. However I will be watching it 17 more times. Long live Nik Dodani Jared.

[alolanrain]

Ash wants affection. He wants his hand held and shoulders to bump into his in a familiar loving way, he just wants to be close to his friends and family. Though he doesn’t know how to ask.

He’s grown up in a household where he was alone for most of his young childhood. Delia is a good mom, a great mom, but she wasn’t the best mom. She was constantly working and his dad stopped coming home. He was friends with Gary who soaked up every piece of attention and demanded for more, Ash wanted to be like Gary when they were younger but he didn’t want to seem rude like Gary does. Ash yearns for the love he’s been lacking most of his life. Yearns to just be seen in people’s eyes and just generally acknowledge.

Ash ended up crying heavily into Brocks shoulder when he cane out of his stone state. Everyone watched as Brock pushed himself and tackled both Ash and Pikachu, frantic in checking every inch of Ash’s skin. Misty and the rest of Ash’s Pokémon followed and Mewtwo day more then Pikachu love the boy with a blazing soul. Brocks hug was warm, tight, and filled with familiar love that Ash aches for daily. He bawled, bawled like a newborn baby. Even after Mewtwo erases everyone memories, Brock still pulls Ash into more and more hugs. Some lasting a minute to three before Brock would press a kiss to the side of his head with one last squeeze.

Misty was just like Ash, she knows the need for family affection and can spot the lack in Ash. She notices how much Ash would press into Brock every hug but was never the one to start it in the first place. So she took it upon herself and used her own lack of family love and reached for Ash. She soon found out that Ash’s hair makes up for a very good stimming toy. It was fluffy and soft to the touch. Ash also found out he really liked having Misty run her hands through his hair. He would always come closer when Misty made grabby hands at him and would lay his head down in her lap or sit between her knees, letting the older girl play and scratch at his scalp lightly.

When Gary comes around Ash doesn’t realize what’s been missing for the past three years. How familiar and warm Gary’s hugs are or when he drags A sleepy Ash up to his bedroom everytime Ash starts coming home from another journey just to crush him in a hug while they cuddle in bed like they ddI while their younger. How much easier it is to just live knowing Gary isn’t an enemy anymore and they’ve worked out their differences with everyone in their families and now their thick as thieves once more. How familiar to tip his face back to accept a kiss of the forehead or cheek from Gary, how his shoulders relaxe when the soon to be Professor reaches out and runs his palm flat down his spine and curls an arm around Ash’s waist to pull him into a side hug that Ash can lean into and feel content knowing he isn’t burdening Gary with his presence.

Even know Asb doesn’t ask because he’s still to afraid. And people that are close to him notice that.

Lance sees Ash struggling with the trauma. Struggling to figure out what is really and what is imagination from his nightmares at three in the morning. He notices the faint look of jealousy everytime their at an even together and Ash spots a loving family walking nearby, eyes trailing the child interacting with their parent or parents before looking back with a slightly heavy sigh. So Lance doesn’t hesitate to be the first one every time to reach out. First were hands softly brushing with Ash’s that escalated to Lance’s hands rubbing between Ash’s shoulders. Feeling Ash lean back against his hand and take a calming breath. Lance finds Ash in the kitchen late one night, breathing heavily into his hands as he sits at the kitchen table. Lance grabs him and drags Ash’s ass over to the living room, corralling the boy until he’s laying back pressed to the couch back and Lance is crowing him in with a hug. They don’t say anything, never spoke a word between or during these actions, but they don’t have to. Ash takes the comfort and runs with it as much as he allows himself to, which isn’t that far. Isn’t that a shame.

Brock does the same, it’s not hard to notice since he has to many siblings and family affection can be overwhelming yet tight between them all. He sees how alone Ash is when it comes to family and Brock makes the choice to step in. Becoming Ash’s older brother in everything but blood. He also shows the signs to everyone of Ash’s more affectionate friends.

He shows Max and May, soon enough Max is always requesting to be picked up by Ash when he’s tired and their a little far from making camp still and everyone can see just how happy and at ease Ash is when Max inevitable falls asleep clinging to Ash like a life line. May takes it upon herself to constantly invade Ash’s physical personal space everytime Ash looks even the tiniest of upset. Soon enough Ash is doing the same, searching for May when he finds himself... lacking in a sense and happily getting a tight hug to make his emotions feel better.

Dawn didn’t need Brock coming to tell her about Ash. She’s already slipping her hand into his and tugging Ash about, curling into his side and racing to find Ash when Conway rears his ugly head. She draping herself over Ash’s shoulders and pressing her knee into his everytime they sit close by. A sister-brother bond grows and flourishes between the two and Brock loves seeing Ash starting to be the first one to reach out, it’s shyly and rare but Brock also notices how Dawn gives him twice the amount of affection then when she’s the one reaching out.

Ash goes through withdrawals during Unova and Kalos and he fucking hates it.

Cilan is to distant and Iris to loud. They don’t care and their teasing hits the wrong mark more then half the time. He yearns for his big brother Brock and big sister Misty. Misses the familiarity with Dawn about not having a dad. Misses how May is loud like Iris but she isn’t mean with her words.

When Meloetta happens and Danw appears, Ash drags her to an empty room and is the first one to initiate the hug. Dawns shocked a little but gathers her barring soon and has her arms locked around Ash’s shoulders. The hug lasts for over five minutes and they only break away when Cynthia comes looking for the two. Ash slips into Dawns room that night and for once has a peaceful night of sleep out of the past few months.

Kalos comes and Ash doesn’t know what’s better. Being put down all the time or being out on a pedal stool.

Bonnie is good, Bonnie is great. Ash has no problem with Bonnie. He even has her start talking to Max over a few video calls. She sees no problem when she skips ahead of Cilan and Serena to link her hands with Ash and start swinging their arms back and forth while talking to Pikachu who ends up weirdly placed on Ash’s shoulder to talk back to the girl.

on the side note it stings that Ash wasn’t there when Max started his journey, he was in Unova and never had time to call unless Iris busted in and demanded Ash to let her meet who ever is on the other end with Cilan hesitantly gaslighting her. Though Max happily shows off his motherfucking shiny Treeko to Ash with the biggest smile he’s ever seen since when Groudon and Kyoger were but back to sleep.

Clemont affection feels to forced. Like the teen wants nothing to do with it outside of Bonnie. He’s friends with Ash all right but he can’t give the same physical affection to Ash and says that it feels weird to hug someone that wasn’t family to long, especially when it’s a male as well. Ash shuts up and doesn’t really try with Clemont besides the odd hand patting on the shoulder and guiding Clemont through a crowded street.

Serena’s affection feels... oversaturated. Like she’s trying to hard to make Ash notice her. She gets jealous when he and Meitte talk, when they make light fun of each other and she tease flirts with him. Ash doesn’t know how to circle the topic to make her try and stop being so jealous. Ash doesn’t understand at all how Serena can hate Meitte’s friendly affection, yeah it manifests by tease flirting but Meitte doesn’t actually mean it. Ash doesn’t know how to word it to Brock and Misty either, or anyone else for that fact, and so he suffers in silence until the end. He doesn’t like the kiss though he puts on a brave face, on the inside he’s freaking out and just over all not having a good time.

Ash doesn’t understand that about himself. He likes kisses. Loves it when one of his friends lean up or down to plant chaste ones on the bridge of his nose or when they pull back his hair to land lightning fast kisses before Ash can wiggle away giggling from the feeling of surprise and happiness tickingly his sides. So he’s cofused on how he doesn’t like it when Serena kisses him on his lips. Ash goes to Lance about this, Ash loves his friends but he’ll never trust them with this kind of scenario, and it takes him about half an hour to just frantically spit out that he’s been kissed. Ash feels like he’s five again as he stutters out all the problems he’s facing about it and how he doesn’t know why and how and what he should be feeling.

Lance listens to him intently and gently prods Ash along until everything comes spilling out. Lance then lays out that Ash doesn’t have to kiss anyone on the lips, and that he can stop people from doing that to him as well. It was so simple and yet Ash sits there on the spot utterly floored and anxious. Can he really say no to someone like that? What if Ash looses Serena as a friend? Would it really be a loss for him even after all this time he’s spent with her?

Alola is like a breath of fresh spring air. Ash is only brought into class and a week goes by and he already has Mallow pulling him everywhere by the hand and Lana taking him to meet her twin sisters Harper and Sarah.

Ash thrives in Alola. Thrives when Sophocles leans into him after any hard physical day of class, thrives when Kiawe gets over his cold distance to Ash and talks animatedly about his baby sister Mimo and how good his parents are. Ash beams when Hau comes skidding around the corner everytime he spots Ash and tackle hugs him like they haven’t seen each other in years. He smiles when Gladion starts bumping his shoulders into Ash when they stumble apon each other or how he’ll rarely rest the front of his body agiants Ash’s back. Ash goes soft when Lillie starts reaching out to take his hand hesitantly. When her hands gently brush against his fingers and then intertwined just a finger or two with Ash’s. They never speak about it and Ash feels all kind of warm shit when Lillie starts to become just a tiny bit bolder and can now link both their hands together for long periods of time.

Ash try’s not to cry when he realizes that Professor Kukui has become a dad to him. He calls up Brock and Misty just to make sure what he’s feeling is correct and freaks out when it fully sinks in. He never noticed till now how much he adores and loves the Professors hugs, how when their not out in public Kukui would just... pull Ash into a hug in the middle of the living room. Tucking Ash in his arms and sway just a tiny bit back and forth after a minute or two. Ash does something for the first time in his life, he buys Kukui one of those corny dad mugs when it starts nearing Father’s Day. He ends up stuttering out to Mallow how she celebrates Father’s Day and doesn’t see the horrified and sad look on her face when she realized that Ash doesn’t actually remember celebrating any kind of parent day with his family. In the end Ash ends up with the mug and his own shoddy attempts at malasadas Mallow painstakingly helped him with.

Ash leaves the gifts with just a small plain short hand written note to the Professor on his lab desk before bolting out of the house in fear that he’ll be stuck there when the man finds it. Ash ends up avoiding Kukui’s gaze in utter embarrassment for the entire day and has to once more choke out his feelings to Mallow which causes him to go into a slight panic attack and flood his minds with horrid “what if’s?” That she talks him down from. Ash avoids the house until dinner time, feeling like he’s swallowed an entire commercial plane with the heavy feeling in his gut. He finally comes back to the shack and he sees Kukui with tears in his eyes. Before Ash could really panic and slurring out the most pitiful excuse in the entire existence of the galaxy, Kukui had tackled him in a bear hug. Both end up crying a bit that night and their bond strengthens.

For once Ash doesn’t want to leave, he doesn’t want to leave the region that feels more like home then the rest. Doesn’t want to leave Burnet and Kukui and the gang. But he goes anyways, says good bye and constantly keeps in touch. It’s also the second time he’s cried when Ash had to split up with the people he’s come to live as family.

Ash fears when he meets Gou and Koharu. Fears that this will be another Unova or even Kalos when he sees Gou loom through Logic Lenses instead of seeing the world in its true color. Stops and clenches his teeth when Gou proudly claims he’s going to catch Mew, knowing full well that Gou will never come close because Mew is needed to keep the world in balance and Arceus would rage across the world personally to find his other side of the universal coin. But he holds his tongue, Ash doesn’t know what they’ll end up like for sure but he can only hope.

——————

I’ll What this is. I was just feeling a Mood and *waves arms* this happened.

[cowtale-utau]

I said I would invade at some point. Listing each prompt wouldn't fit in the box, so could I ask for number 12, 16, 37, 40, and 52 from WII for Doc? And Aurum, too. Not poly. Oh, but I don't mind if you want to include Viridis with Aurum's prompts; I know you like to put those two as part of a poly. Thank you!

Good to see you!

12 S/O is accident prone

Doc – At first he's startled every time you run into something or trip or knock something over. He scolds you over while checking you for injury, fussing over every scrape and bruise. But give it awhile and he doesn't really relax so much as find a more “effective” method. I hope you aren't magic adverse, because you'll experience his a lot. Stumble and you find gravity is much kinder, and purple tinted. Knock something over and it never hits the ground before righting itself. He hardly even thinks about anymore, it's a trained reaction at this point. He rarely even has to look up. You still get a lot of long suffering sighs and flat stares, but it's all good natured.

Aurum – This man is an ass. He will let you get used to a layout and then shift things by six inches, just to watch you bounce of it. Of course he always makes sure you aren't injured, and helps keep you from breaking anything important or meaningful. But just general tripping or stumbles. Breaking yet another hideous vase someone gave you? Hilarious. Vir tries to put things back after Aur moves them, but it's a constant battle, and you are unfortunately in the middle of it. Little known fact, Vir is a damn clever prankster, and knows how to make himself look completely innocent. Ask him to help with revenge and it'll be weeks before Aur is brave enough to screw with either of you again.

16 S/O is tall (so for this one, despite my “relative” heights, I figured I'd make you taller than Doc, and around the same height as Aur, just for funsies)

Doc – Despite accusations, Doc doesn't have a Napoleon Complex in the traditional sense. He's very confident and does not feel the need to lie or exaggerate. He does brag, and loudly, but is also more than capable of backing it up at a moments notice. You being taller than him isn't an issue at all. He pretty much ignores it most of the time. He uses magic to get things from high up, and if he wants to kiss you he demands you lean down. Or just tugs you to his level. Whichever. He has been known to climb on top of things when arguing with people taller than him, and you would be no exception. He will go get something to stand on if necessary. He wants to look you in the eye to make his point.

Aurum – Frequently tells you how nice it is to not have to lean down to kiss you. He really enjoys how imposing the two of you look together. He'll jokingly ask you for piggy-back rides, but if you agree he's absolutely delighted. He makes it kind of difficult though, because he won't stop laughing the entire time. He'll teasingly ask you to get things from the top shelf for him. He buys you heels. If you tell him you don't walk in stilettos, he'll get you platforms instead. He tries to find ways to make you even taller, telling you he wants to be the short one. Like most things, he doesn't take it seriously at all, and has just has fun.

37 S/O gives comfort post nightmare

Doc – If you're close enough to be there to comfort him after a nightmare, then you're close enough for him to confide in. It takes a long time for him to trust you at that level, but when he does, it's absolute. Surprisingly he rarely wakes violently. His nightmares tend to center around loss rather than straight violence. It's rare to ever see him cry, but this is one of those times. He's a quiet crier, and tends to just stare at nothing. Eventually he'll start to talk, telling you not details so much, as just his general fears. His fear of losing you, of losing his brother (again), that he's afraid this “peace” they've found is temporary. Assure him you aren't going anywhere. That even if the world falls apart, you'll still be there. Flint will quietly appear at some point to do the same. It's rare to see Doc's brother so serious, but he sits in quiet solidarity. The two of you have very different relationships with Doc, but you both undeniably love him. Making sure he knows this, and that this won't change, is what matters most right now.

Aurum – Aurum's nightmares tend to go pretty unnoticed most of the time. He certainly has them, but he's gotten very good at hiding it. Now an then however, they can get a bit beyond his control, and he tends to lash out. Magically, physically, he's faced a lot of shit, and his fight instinct is strong. Especially if you happen to be featured in some way. One of his deepest fears is losing his loved ones to something he can't fight. And you fall into that category. Unfortunately there's a chance you'll get caught up in the crossfire. This will absolutely destroy him. Hurting you is something he never wanted to do. He'll try to run, don't let him. It'll take awhile, and some strong words, but make it clear you still love him, and that this changes nothing. He wasn't in control of himself, and just reacted. He didn't mean to hurt you, and that's what matters. He needs reassurance, but even with it he'll beat himself up for awhile. He doesn't want you to fear him. Smack him upside the head, hand him a tea, and tell him to get over it. Acting natural will go along way to reassure him everything is fine between you.

40 S/O overworks to the point of fainting

Doc – Buddy, pal, friend. What are you doing? If you know Doc at all, you know this is a terrible idea. Not only are you in for an earful, but so is everyone you work with. It will only happen once. He won't really understand your limits, or human limits really, all that well at first. Physical bodies are so limiting! But once you collapse, that's not something he'll ever forget, and he'll be making sure it never happens again. If that means hovering and micro managing for a week to make sure you get the message, than so be it. He says it's because you negatively affected productivity, but really he just worries. Humans are so fragile! It's nerve-wracking!

Aurum – Hey now, that's Aur's job! He's peeved with you, but he gets it. He does it fairly often himself. Less over-working, and more continuing to work and forgetting to sleep, but similar enough. He will force both of you to take a few days to rest. He tries to work out some semblance of accountability for in the future, check ins and what not, but ends up just getting Vir to make sure everyone eats and sleeps with some regularity. Which works not at all, seeing as Vir tends to start reading and forget time exists. Ultimately it's something that will probably keep happening, but every time he makes sure you both take a few days completely off to get properly rested again.

52 Finding SO’s writing/art, including some about [character]

Doc – Despite being a control freak, Doc doesn't normally go through your things. Those are your private things, and as long as it's nothing that could harm you or the family, he doesn't care. You're allowed privacy. So if he finds some of your work it's probably at least mostly accidental. Likely he was looking for some paperwork or a project he asked you to work on and happened to find something. Unfortunately now that he's found it, the privacy idea is over. Especially if it's something about or of him. He's quite flattered, and will tell you so. Also, it's his now. Unless you insist it's incomplete, he will keep it. And if you do get it back to “finish it”, he'll insist he gets it back again. He wants to show it off.  

Aurum – Aur doesn't believe in other people's privacy. He's curious, nosey, and has next to no sense of “boundaries”, Give him enough shit, or pull the hurt/disappointed card and he'll learn. But until then, he absolutely goes through your things whenever the whim hits him. So obviously he's going to find your work. He won't take any of it, and puts it all back exactly how he found. That doesn't mean he's leaving it alone however. He will make constant subtle references to it, never outright saying he saw, but implying it heavily until you confront him about it. Then he uses that as an excuse to try to get you to show it off. I mean, you made something for/of/about him, he should get to see it right? If you are so inclined, feel free to throw something at him. He knows he deserves it.

These took so long I'm sorry! Lemme know if you want more, I'm happy to provide!

[evak-elu-nicotino]

A Nicotino fic

Well, here’s another one. Two in one day, well well...

I haven’t written in a long time, sorry if this sucks ! Thanks for reading anyway :)

_____________________________

They were laughing so hard, Marti was having a tough time not crying from laughter. They were watching some one-man show, cuddling up in front of the TV, which was hilarious enough to stop him from thinking too much about his boyfriend, who had snuggled up against him. They were sitting, or lounging was more like it, on Marti’s couch. The dim lights in the room made it all the more cozy, and Nico snuzzled against Marti’s skin, kissing his freckles, which made Marti chuckle. He looked up to Nico, who was smiling smugly. “What ? My freckles told you some joke I’m not aware of ?” Niccolò laughed out loud, and jabbed at Marti on the soft flesh around his hips. “You make me smile, isn’t that a good thing ?” Marti snorted. “Not if you’re laughing at my expense, or at my freckles’ expense. They did nothing to you”, he said, smiling growing by the second. Niccolò smiled up at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “You’re such a dork”, he laughed, unable to contain himself. “But a cute dork.” “Of course”, replied Marti, his eyes twinkling. Oh, how much he did love that boy. Not that he would tell him, it would maybe be too soon. But sometime, in the not-so-distant future. If he had the balls to tell him. Niccolò would probably beat him to it, though. Judging by his fond smile and his eyes who were telling him things he was having a hard time understanding. Or maybe he was afraid to understand. 

Martino didn’t grow up having an outstanding example of love. His parents divorced early on, his friends were…well, 17, and he didn’t really have a family, other than his parents, his now stepmother and stepbrother. So yeah, the examples for romance and true love weren’t really around. Gio ended up splitting up with Eva, Ele and Edoardo had a somewhat dysfunctional relationship, and as far as Elia and Luchino were concerned, well…They were still both single to this day, so Martino didn’t really that much about love, to be honest. And he knew that Niccolò’s parents weren’t together anymore as well. “My God Martino, I can almost hear you think ! What’s going on in that pretty little brain of yours, huh ?” Niccolò caught his gaze, and Marti sighed, fingers distractedly tapping a rythm against his own thigh. “Yeah, no, I was actually thinking about how I don’t have a great exemple of a successful love story in my life.” Silence stretched between them, Niccolò seemed deep in thought as well after that. He met his eyes, and his arm rested on Marti’s, the contact between us somewhat comforting to Martino. “Yeah, me neither,” Nico confessed, almost whispering. “Do you think it’s weird to think about that ? Because my brain just went to that place and I…” Niccolò touched his lips with his hand, eyes serious and soft at the same time. “Hey, don’t worry Marti. I know a lot about how your brain just go places, believe me”. Nico kissed Marti, slowly, purposely, with so much tenderness that Marti felt chills going through his chest. Butterflies erupted in his stomach, and he sighed against Niccolò’s mouth. “How come I get to kiss you, I’ll never understand.” Marti said out loud, and chuckled. “I never considered myself lucky, but…” he didn’t finish his sentence, eyes down, cheeks flushed, short of breath from the kiss. Nico slipped a finger under his chin, their eyes met, full of love and affection. He had a cute lopsdided grin, which should be illegal, Marti thought. He bit his lower lip, melting inside under Nico’s intense gaze. Gosh he felt completely in love with him already. The thought alone could’ve scared him, but he felt safe, somehow. He just trusted Nico, plainly and without any doubts. Marti got up, taking Nico’s hand into his, which earned him a chuckle. “Going to bed ?” Nico said, his eyes fixated on Marti’s lips. He swallowed down a moan. Whenever Niccolò looked at him like he’s candy, he could just melt into a puddle. “Yeah”, he says, almost indifferently. “Wanna come with ?” he extends his hand, and Niccolò takes it in a heartbeat. They turn out the lights on their way to Marti’s bedroom.

Once the door is closed, weirdly enough, the atmosphere changes all of a sudden, and Marti feels like he could cut the tension in here with a knife. It’s so palpable, even though they did spend the whole day together in a flat that was already empty, snuggling on a couch, this feels different somehow. Niccolò grabs Marti by the hips, making his breath stutter somewhere in his throat. He lays his hands down on his ass, and Marti has to remind himself to breathe, otherwise this will be over way too soon. He’s not 14 anymore, he can…you know, hold himself back. But Nico’s fond smile and the expression in his eyes makes him blush. He’s looking at him like every cell of his body is attracting him. Marti has to tear away his gaze, and breathes in deeply. “I’ll take the bathroom first”, he says quickly, stepping towards the door and closing it behind him, shakily. What’s happening with him ? That’s Niccolò we’re talking about, and he wouldn’t make Marti do anything he didn’t wanna do. But God know why, seeing that want and lust clearly written across Nico’s face made Marti flush from the top of his hair to the tip of his toes. He’s not scared, he’s just…alive with desire, and somehow it’s making him panic like he never panicked before. What if he wasn’t gay, after all ? What if all of this was just a dream, something he did just because he didn’t like Emma ? What if this was the biggest mistake of his life ? Oh my God, what did he do, making Niccolò believe that they could be a couple ? He had to get out of the bathroon, he just had to. Niccolò would just have to understand, he’d have to go home, because Martino was full on freaking out now, spread out on the floor of his bathroom. How pathetic was his life ?

As if Nico could smell his fear and panic, the door opened, and Martino just remembered he didn’t lock it behind him. He put his arm across his eyes, willing the tears not to fall down, because this would be the biggest embarrassment of his life. Niccolò didn’t say anything, and just sat down next to him. He didn’t touch him, didn’t kiss him. He just stared into nothing, facing the green wall. Martino stayed there, sprawled on the floor, Niccolò sat next to him. Marti almost jumped to the ceiling when his boyfriend started talking after a few minutes. He almost had forgotten he was there. “When I first told someone I was attracted to this guy, I almost fainted.” Marti closed his eyes. Yeah, he could definitely relate. Telling Gio was something that he dreaded for a long time. Until the very last second before the words slipped out of his mouth, almost by accident. “And he couldn’t care less, while I was standing here, having a heart attack right in front of him.” Nico lets out a breathless laugh. Marti’s chest hurts, as if everything’s too tight underneath his skin. He breathes out. “I’m scared shitless”, he says, almost whispering. “What I’m not gay ? What if…” he lingers, unsure on how to phrase his next sentence. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, much less Niccolò. “What if I’m straight ?” Niccolò looks at him and just smiles. “Are you attracted to me ?” he simply asks, as if the answer was of no consequence whatsoever. Marti doesn’t even think before replying. “Niccolò, you’re the most attractive guy in the world. I’d be crazy not to be attracted to you.” Nico smiles down at him, and Marti has to look away, because the smile on his face is like looking at the sun. It’s bright, intense, dazzling. “Then I’m afraid to tell you, that you might not be straight, my dearest Martino”, chuckles Nico, leaning towards Marti, who hasn’t moved since his internal sexuality crisis. “And thanks for the compliment.”, he smiles again, before capturing Martino’s lips slowly, gently, as if he was afraid to scare Marti away. Fireworks explodes once again behind his closed eyelids, and he smiles against Nico’s lips. “Yeah, no straight guy would get a boner by kissing another guy”, Marti laughs, and Niccolò’s eyes trails down his body, stopping on his lower half, smirking. Marti chuckles, cheeks pink, heart jumping a beat when he sees the hunger in Nico’s eyes reappearing. “You’re beautiful”, whispers Nico, staring at him. “I’d be crazy not to be attracted to you too”.

[alliswell21]

Password

A fic for @historywriter2007, @lovely-tothe-bone, @mega-aulover and @arbyeatscheesebuns from a Prompt about a professor on tinder... hope this one is to your liking!

————————

I come into my bedroom to find Johanna lounging on my bed, messing with my cellphone, like she owns the place.

“What are you doing?” I demand feeling all my nerve ends spike in warning.

“Nothing,” She drawls nonchalantly, looking up from my phone with those brown, wide set eyes of hers, too innocently to be true.

“What are you doing with my phone? And how the hell did you figure out my password?” I grunt.

Johanna flips the phone next to her on the mattress, stretching like a cat, and then sits up taking her sweet time.

“You know, Brainless, if you use the same password for everything, from your bank account, to your Facebook, and also your email, and the password is just your sister’s birth date and initials everytime, you deserve to get hacked.” She scoots off the bed lazily, “I’m done anyways. I took the liberty to check on your tinder for you. You’re welcome!” She smiles devilishly, sauntering out of the bedroom.

“Tinder?” I ask in confusion, diving for my phone to check it myself, because I’ve never signed up for a Tinder account. That’s just… not me!

A couple of swipes, and sure enough, there’s an icon for an app I would never download myself.

“How the…?! Fudge! Now I really need to change all my passwords! Lousy Johanna!” I mutter angrily under my breath.

“Jo! What did you do?” I run after her waving my phone. “Why did you signed me up for a tinder account?”

She rolls her eyes while raspberrying obnoxiously. “Katniss, we had this discussion Saturday, after Madge’s party. I said you needed to get laid before your lady parts became dusty, and you said it was cool when I suggested tinder.”

“I was drunk!” I screech.

“No you weren’t! You only had two beers.”

“Plus all the shots of tequila you practically force fed me!” I groan. “Johanna, I don’t want a tinder!”

“Kitty cat, it’s done. Plus there are some hotties there I already took the liberty to swipe right for you. Now you’ll be on their feeds and if the swipe right too when they see your profile picture, then you’ll be matched and you’ll be on your way to orgasmic bliss!”

I scrub my face with both hands, questioning my life choices, especially the one where I actually begged Johanna Mason to move in after my last roommate left the apartment.

Finally I say with resolve, “I’m deleting the account. I don’t want it and definitely don’t need it!”

“After all the time I devoted to create the perfect profile that made you look like a total bombshell?!” She’s glaring at me. “Do you know how many guys are showing in your feed? That means they’re interested in you, Brainless! Give it a try and live a little for once! YOLO and all that jazz, you’re no spring chicken anymore, you know.”

“Can it, Jo! I don’t have time for this!” I say hunching all over, “Thank you for the effort, but... this isn’t for me, Jo.” I say a little defeated.

“You’ll be fine, brainless, stop being so dramatic.” Johanna sighs behind me before I shut myself into my room.

My love life is nonexistent, just as I want it to be… at least while I’m sober it seems.

I flop on the bed, cell phone in hand, ready to delete the tinder app when I see there’s a message. Out of curiosity, I tap the icon and almost flat line at the name displayed in the header.

I scream. Loudly. I scream Johanna’s name like is a cuss word and stomp menacingly down the hall to scream at her some more, but I’m freaking out with anxiety to the point that my anger gets buried under other unpleasant emotions that make my stomach roil.

“What’s wrong?!” My roommate asks jumping off the couch, her eyes wide with concern. “Did something happened?”

I start stuttering and flailing my arms like a person drowning in the middle of the sea; it takes a shake from Jo to finally sputter, “My teacher!” I stare at Johanna with wild eyes and finally feel the anger return. “You matched me with my freaking Teacher!”

It feels good to lash out in complete control of my feelings.

“I did not!” Johanna shoves me away rolling her eyes and going back to plant her butt in front of the TV. “I wouldn’t have match you with some old fart looking for young tail on tinder.” She says dismissively. “I have my limits.”

I groan in aggravation. “He’s not an old fart. He’s only a few years older than me. He teaches my stupid Social Scienses class... the one I told you about.”

Johanna’s interest piqued, “Go on…” she prompts.

I sink into the couch next to her, afraid of my phone.

Getting my college education has been my very own personal Odyssey. What should have taken a normal student four years, has taken me seven, since at first I had to work full time to help my mother support our little family, while my younger sister finished high school. I would’ve kept supporting us if my sister hadn’t insisted I got into higher education as well; so at the age of twenty six and a half, a diploma is within my grasp. I don’t mind doing grunt work, but my sister was right to push me for more. I’m ready to move on to a higher bracket in the salary ladder, and to do that, I’m required a college degree.

I neglected the needed Social Science credits for my degree until this year. I had to scramble to get all my credits for graduation, and I needed a Social Science class to round up the requirements.

I decided to go with American Ethnich Studies because the odds were in my favor, since it’s a very sought after course and a spot magically opened while I was picking my schedule and was able to snatch it up. The class is not really an elective, but it fills pretty quickly, and for good reason: the curriculum is fresh, the material is interesting, the level of compelling information is outstanding, and I also rationalize that since my late dad was from Native American descent, it would be a great opportunity to acquire academic knowledge of my heritage and all the other cultures that make America a rich tapestry that go beyond race, gender and tradition.

But the man teaching the class is a whole other compelling reason on its own… not that I was aware of that tiny detail until I set foot in the classroom.

“So, are you gonna show me this professor that’s got your panties all twisted and damped?” Jo challenges.

I only glare at her for a second, before slumping my shoulders. “He messaged me.”

“What did he say?” Johanna is now on her knees on the couch, facing me, the mischief glinting in her eyes annoys me to no end.

“I haven’t read it yet…” I sigh staring at my phone like it’s a poisonous snake.

“Why not?” Jo demands.

“Because it’s my freaking teacher, Johanna!” I say at the edge of a panic attack.

American Ethnic Studies is the class I’ve done worse in my whole schooling career. I blame it all solely on the professor, Mr. Mellark, who’s name is flashing on my screen.

I don’t mean Mr. Mellark is a bad or even mediocre teacher; on the contrary, he is in fact very knowledgeable, kind, open, friendly and approachable. But the man is ridiculously handsome; his voice is deep and smooth like warm dark melted chocolate, his eyes are as blue and deep as a summer sky under an unruly mop of ashy blonde waves, and his smile nearly made my heart stop the first time I saw it aimed at me. Then is the rest of his body: ass round and firm scrumptiously encased in pressed slacks, and shoulders so broad I wonder how can he find the right size shirts to cover them?

In other words, professor Mellark is what I believe a modern Greek god would look like nowadays, which brings me back to my original statement, I never took into account how the looks of a man could affect my concentration in class, resulting in the awful marks I’ve been getting in the course all year.

Johanna snatches my phone from my fingers, and I scramble after her to retrieve it.

“Johanna!”

“Hush, Brainless!”

She sticks out her hand to stop me from grabbing back my phone. I see with horror she’s already unlocked the screen.

“Give it back!” I demand stretching beyond Johanna’s shoulder and finally wrapping my hand around my device. “Don’t read my message! It’s private!” I snap.

“Oh please! I already told you, nothing is private until you change passwords. Now… read the thing! Stop being a coward!”

I glare at Jo for a second, but ultimately turn my eyes to the small bubble with a great deal of anxiety, because now there’s not just one, but two messages from Professor Mellark waiting for me. I steel myself and finally let the words take meaning as I read.

Peeta Mellark: Hey Katniss, I saw you in my feed and grappled with the questionable propriety of my choices: a) acknowledge you, saying hello since we got matched and passing for creepy; or b) ignoring you by swiping left and passing for rude.

I guess I managed to answer that question already.

Peeta Mellark: I’ll take this slightly awkward opportunity to tell you your final grade: B

I say the words in a monotone, not really knowing how to feel. I want to laugh and bawl at the same time. This man is so witty even in writing.

“Well? Are you going to answer or what?” Johanna presses bluntly, practically breathing down my nape.

I push her away a fraction, and mutter, “Shut up, Jo. I’m thinking!”

“You gotta answer! Stop thinking!”

“What am I supposed to say back?” I ask her harshly.

“Tell him you can handle the D if he swaps that B for an A!” Johanna wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, as if I would ever say something as crass or forward.

“Are you crazy?! I can tell my teacher that!” I balk.

“You gotta say something!”

“I know!” I sigh and start typing, carefully choosing my words.

Katniss Everdeen: Hello, Mr. Mellark. I would have never thought you rude for swiping left. I completely understand. Believe me, tinder wasn’t my idea, but my best friend decided I needed to socialize more… so… here we are...

I cringe.

Katniss Everdeen: Thanks for the grades. I’m relieved to know I’ve passed the class, it means I’m officially a graduate! No longer a student!

For the first time I let the news sink in and bask in the knowledge that I am graduating and can’t help but smile and say a tiny “Yay, Me!” Under my breath at the same time I’m pumping the air with my fist.

Johanna shoves me aside to read what I wrote, and then makes a disgruntled noise. “I thought something sexy was finally said when you reacted so excited.”

I’m about to tell her that getting my diploma is exciting but a chime goes off, announcing another message.

We both peer down at the phone and I gasp. Mr. Mellark has responded, and there’s a smiley face and a question; Johanna is yakking about none stop next to me, trying to tell me what to say or how to phrase it, but I’m speechless and elated because the few lines my ex-professor has written are so unexpected but so welcome, is not even funny.

Peeta Mellark: Congratulations! I knew you could do it!

Peeta Mellark: By the way, call me Peeta, I’m not your professor anymore, and given the circumstances, I believe is kosher to be informal… friendlier.

Peeta Mellark: Also, I was wondering, since we got matched up and everything, would you like to have a cup of coffee or tea with me… since you're officially not my student anymore?

My fingers fly over the screen typing my answer in a flash. I don’t even have to think what I want to say.

Katniss Everdeen: Make it a cup of hot chocolate, and you have a date… Peeta.

His answer is practically immediate.

Peeta Mellark: It's a date then! Meet me tomorrow at my brother’s bakery? Corner of Twelve and Capitol? They have the best cheese buns to pair with that hot chocolate… and I’ll get the privilege to show you off as my date. My brother set me up on tinder too.

I’m not sure if the smile I’m wearing is for what I’m reading, or because I’m now free to fantasize about my teacher, but when I see the rest of his reply, I know this would’ve happened anyway some way or another...

Peeta Mellark: Full disclosure at the risk of still sounding creepy, but I think it was lucky our profiles got matched together. It gave me the chance to ask you out, and I sorely wanted to approach you, but didn’t know how. This is the perfect excuse. Thank you for swiping right.

“See, Brainless?! You’re welcome!” Says Johanna breaking the nice little bubble I was in.

I roll my eyes not even trying to stop my smile, “Fine, Johanna, thank you for swiping right… now get out of my phone, and don’t even try to crack the new password! Also, I’m definitely deleting Tinder!”

[unadulteratedangelheropickle]

Tags: old/young, legal teen, doctor/patient

°^w^°

It was a typical case. A young girl coming off age, exploring her sexuality after it had been suppressed by dominant parents. She wanted to be a rebell, wanted to provoke with tight-fitting clothes and vulgar language. But subconsciously she wanted nothing more than to be cherished and lead. This raw sexual energy, which he had to admit he hadn’t seen often, needed to be taken care of. So after several sessions dealing her problematic relationship with her old-fashioned parents, he began giving her homework. The look on her face when he ordered her to masturbate before going to bed and in the morning was priceless.

“Lemme guess: You want pictures, don’t cha?”

He chuckled. He couldn’t help it, her sass was amusing and refreshing after a day of listening to frustrated housewifes cry about self-made marriage problems. And, even though he shouldn’t take notice of it, she was a beautiful young thing. Her long red hair, the sparkling green eyes, the adorable freckles on the bow of her nose and between the pushed up mounds of her breasts. In his weaker moments he wondered how far down these pink spots went.

Slowly, the rude redhead grew on him and he liked to challenge her with new sexual challenges. Red loved it (that’s what he called her in his head). She always came back to him all excited, telling him how aroused she had been when she had sat in that dark cinema theater and pushed her fingers into her wet little pussy. In detail she described how her juices coated her fingers and soaked her panties, how her nipples poked through her tight green shirt while she fingered herself faster and faster, trying to muffle her moans by biting down on her lip.

It was quite a picture she drew.

“...And then, when I was really getting into it, I imagined you standing at the end of the row, watching me from the darkness.”

His pen only halted for a second.

“Did you?” he asked politely, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

She nodded, her smirk a challenge.

“And did it affect your arousal?”

“Are you asking if it made me hornier?”

“Yes.”

She leaned back, uncrossing her legs. She was wearing a mini skirt today. And no panties, apparently.

“Yes”, she finally replied, her creamy thighs wagging playfully before she spread them as far as possible.

He lets her see that he notices her absent panties, he takes a long look at that teenage pussy hooded by her short skirt. Then he averts his eyes with desinterest, skribbling some notes onto his pad. In a bored voice he continues the conversation.

“I see you don’t shave the pubic hair on your mon veneris, even though it has become common amongst women your age to shave completely. Why is that?”

Red didn’t bother to cross her legs. On the contrary. She pulled up her skirt and teased her happy trail with a fingertip. The outer lips of her pussy were pink and soft and puffy. Objectively speaking, it was a very pretty pussy.

“I want the guys to look. The bright red attracks attention, wouldn’t you say?”

Oh, how she loved to tease him. The look in her eyes and the crook in her grin told him.

“Indeed it does”, he replied in a neutral tone and took some notes.

“What are you writing all the time?” she asked, obviously disappointed that he didn’t fall for her so easily.

He inhaled deeply. Then he replied in a controlled, neutral voice.

“Patient tries to provoke therapist with not wearing underwear and presenting vagina.”

A flash of anger crossed her face. She hated not being taken seriously. He knew that and he used it against her to show her that he was still in control.

“Give me my damn homework”, she snapped, crossed her arms in front of her perky tits and closed her legs.

He had to suppress a grin. If he was being honest, he loved to tease her, as well.

“Since you’re a fan of going commando”, he started and got up from his chair and walked to his closet, “I want you to drive home with this.”

He showed her the bike saddle he had especially made. It had a bud for clitorial stimulation and a little shaft for vaginal stimulation, not very long though. He gave it to virgin patients, so they had to be short enough to not break the hymen.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the saddle and jumped up from the couch to take a close look. He could smell her peach shampoo while she was standing so close. It was a delicious scent.

“Thank you.”

“Not so fast”, he said and held it out of her reach. “It goes without saying that this is a valuable object and that you take good care of it.”

“Oh, I will!”

“Furthermore”, he lifted his arm when she tried to grab it, “you will keep it out of your parent’s sight. We both know they would freak out if they saw it and then they wouldn’t let you come back to me.”

Her eyes got huge and hopeful for a second. He had spoken gently and for a second the wall of sass and sexual energy crumbled. There was the young woman who needed to feel cherished and loved.

“Would that make you sad?”

“Of course it would”, he replied and finally handed her the saddle. “After all, I make my living with treating patients like you.”

Oh, the hurt in her eyes. But he had to break her. Had to break her walls to get to her soft core.

“You’re a dick”, she hissed and stormed for the door.

Poor girl, he thought, so confused and full of longing. He had to be especially giving with her.

^w^

One week later Red was back on his couch.

“Where is the saddle?”

She crossed her arms.

“I lost it.”

He inwardly sighed. She was in a foul mood. Well, he wouldn’t have it.

“I counted on you to look after the saddle and bring it back to me.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have. You know I am unreliable. I’m just a horny slut who thinks of nothing else but to fuck boys.”

Ah, yes. The words of her father, no doubt. The tears lurking in the corners of her eyes gave it away.

“I have to say I’m very angry and disappointed with you.”

“I don’t give a fuck!”

Her whole body was tense and her breathing was flat, the little buds on her tits poking through her green top. Just from that he could tell she needed release. She needed to cry and scream, to let her pain out.

Her green eyes widened when he came over to her with a few strong steps and she squealed when he pulled her over his legs after he had sat down next to her.

“What do you think you’re doing, asshole?!” she cursed while he locked her down with one arm while the other pushed up her skirt and pulled down her panties. Her round, full ass was a mouth-watering sight. But he didn’t waste any time.

The first slap landed on her left cheek. She screamed, as expected; he hadn’t been gentle.

“You son of a bitch!”

“Apologize.”

“Fuck off!”

He slapped her right cheek now. She screamed again.

“I’ll tell my parents!” she wailed, the tears already falling.

“Do you really think they care what I do with you?”

He began spanking her with regular strokes, hitting her sweet spot low on her ass. He loved the sound and the sight of her pale cheeks turning pink.

At first she fought the pain, a natural reaction, but soon she stopped fighting and just lay there, letting him hit her. He felt the tension move out of her body while she cried and squealed. When she finally relaxed, he stopped, his hand now gently brushing over her hot ass.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked gently.

“No, you f-fucker”, she sobbed.

Ever so gentle did he roll her over. He was prepared when the slap came and stopped her hand, wrapping his arm around her. Holding eye contact he began rocking her.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. I forgive you.”

It were magic words. She began sobbing and slung her arms around him, crying her eyes out.

“It’s okay. I’m here. I will hold you forever. You’re a good girl. Such a good girl you are.”

“I’m-m s-s-sorry”, she sobbed into his shirt.

“I know.”

He held her for a long time, letting her cry. Fifteen minutes ticked away. Then  the tears ran out. Carefully he tilted her head back and looked into those beautiful green eyes, now soft and vulnerable.

“I want you to repeat after me: You are an intelligent woman.”

“You are an itelligent woman.”

He chuckled. Even after all that crying she still had that spark of sass in her. He loved it. Gently, he brushed her tears away.

“I’m an intelligent woman”, she said and smiled at him.

“My worth as a person is not defined by my sexual appetite. There is nothing wrong with having as much sex as possible, as long as both are consenting adults. My parents have no control over my life. I have control over my life.”

Red hesitated with the last sentence.

“What is it?”

She looked at him. He was still rocking her.

“I’m afraid. Sometimes I think I’m not ready for being an adult. I wish there was some guide or book...I feel so unprepared.”

“You want to be taken by hand.”

She averted her eyes.

“I know it’s childish.”

“Not at all. I can be that guardian, if you want me to be.”

“But I only see you once a week.”

“I can tell your parents that it’s necessary to see you every day.”

“I don’t think this will work. They told me they want to stop the sessions, since they don’t help...they found me in the garage, fucking our mail man in the car”, she admitted after a second.

“That’s what the fight was about.”

She nodded.

“You fucked him at home to get back at me, didn’t you?”

His fingers brushed up and down her upper arm. She nodded, tears filling her eyes again.

“I was so mad...” she sobbed and he pulled her close again.

“Shhh...it’s okay, sweet girl.”

He began stroking her thigh, her skirt hiked up to her hips and her panties wrapped around her knees. His hand glided down to it. He had to admit, he wanted to push them all the way down and look at this sweet pussy again. He wondered if she was wet now. But it wasn’t the time to ask her. So, with an inward sigh, he pulled it up and her skirt down.

“If you can convince your parents to continue, I will be your guardian. I’ll give you my cell phone number and you can call me whenever you want...and if you want to fuck a guy, you can do that at my place.”

“What?”

She looked at him.

“I have a big house with a second entrance and an en suite bedroom. You can use it. At least then I’ll know your safe and don’t get in trouble.”

With a happy squeal she shot up, sllinging her arms around his neck. Before he could react her wet lips landed on his.

He slapped her thigh. She cried out.

“Not without my permission”, he instructed sternly and pushed her off his legs. When she stood in front of him he pulled her between his legs and pulled her panties carefully over her burning ass. She bit her lip, but didn’t say anything.

Then he guided her to the little sink in the far corner of the room and washed her face. She had her eyes closed and was wearing a serene smile the whole time.

“Convince your parents. Come back tomorrow and we’ll discuss details.”

ooOOOoo

Red came. She had promised her parents to go to church every Sunday from now on in order to make them pay for further sessions. He couldn’t deny he was happy about it. Red had grown on him. He adored the spike in her and he was interested in seeing her grow and free herself from her parents.

The following weeks were fun, Red getting more and more mellow, bringing a guy to her new ‘pussy cave’ - as she called it - almost every night. He heard her moan extra loud, doubtlessly to lure him inside. But he wouldn’t go in until one month later, when she was listening to almost everything he said. Soundlessly he let himself in, the smell of sex lingering in the air of the spacious bedroom with a little bar, a couch and a luxurious bed. It had been the fuckroom all along, his and his girlfriend’s, back when he still had one. He was happy it came to good use again.

He found her on the couch, riding a fella like there was no tomorrow. The back of the couch stood to him, so he could look at her face and her bouncing tits. Casually he leaned against the bar, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she did and they found him, she lost her rhythm and gasped. He smiled encouringly and after a moment she smiled back, falling into another rut. This time she didn’t close her eyes. They were fixed on him until she came; which happened within a minute. He listened and watched her climax. A beautiful, beautiful sight.

This turned into quiet a routine. He found himself watching her almost every time, his cock hard and straining against his pants.

But he remained patient. Red had to come to him. ...She did three weeks later.

He was watching tv when the door to her room opened and she stepped into his home, her eyes curiously glancing around before they settled on him. She was wearing one of his blue shirts and nothing else. She must have found it in the closet. On bare feet she crossed the distance between them until she stood in front of him, blocking the view. Her long full hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her lips quivered and her eyes were begging.

Good, he thought.

His eyes didn’t leave hers when she slowly unbottoned her blouse. Neither did they leave when she brushed the cotton aside, revealing her young tight body. She really was naked and out of the corners of his eyes the red happy trail on her mound was trying to get his attention with its bright color.

When he didn’t react, tears filled her eyes.

She went down on her knees between his spread legs. Her hand reached out for his thighs, but she remembered the rule.

“Please”, she begged and her voice was such a lovely whisper it trembled through his spine straight to his wakening cock.

He gave her a court nod.

She exhaled and smiled, the fear of rejection falling away. Her hands were on his knees, on his thighs, until they rubbed the bulge in his trousers. A little moan escaped her parted lips as she felt his length and girth.

With shaking, impatient hands she opened his belt and pants until his cock sprang free.

Hungrily and with another moan she put her sweet little mouth where it belonged. With his arms sprawled on the back of the couch he watched her suck and lick his big cock. Hungry she was, but also devoted and cherishing. This girl really loved cock and she loved his. She was slurping and sucking soundly, he felt her wet little tongue circle around his head and gliding down his shaft to lick his balls until they were wet.

Needless to say, he loved it. But he didn’t reward her with a moan. Not this time. This was about control, about dominance. So he grit his teeth together and remaind silent, his body completely still...which became more and more difficult because now she was taking him inside her hot little mouth, bobbing her head and sucking him off almost expertly.

The only move he would make was when he came and his hips jerked up, pushing his cock into her lovely throat to feed her with his sperm. Red swallowed it hungrily, sucking the last drop out of his pulsating cock.

When he was done, he looked down at her. She smiled at him shyly, an adorable blush on her cheeks. His only reward was to stroke her left tit once, twice, and pull at her hard pink nipple. Then he sent her away with so much of a hand gesture.

Of course she didn’t understand. She stormed off and slammed the door shut.

He had to always be in control, he reminded himself when his legs wanted to follow her. Also, he admitted silently, he had to keep his distance. She was so fucking sexy. If he didn’t keep her at arms’ length he would be her boytoy within a week. That wasn’t what she needed. She needed a guide, a strong dom to take care of her.

So he continued to play her, make her submit more and more.

Most of the times she came to his house alone now, making herself known with clinks and clanks, waiting for him to come to her. Of course he wouldn’t. Then, after an hour she would come out and join him in the living room, falling on her knees and sucking him off. When she began leaving on her own after she had drunk his load, he knew she understood her role, at least began to.

Finally, he thought.

The next time she came he was already there, waiting in her room behind the front door. She had dropped her things onto the bed when he stepped up behind her. She flinched and gasped, but didn’t turn around.

“Take off your panties”, he ordered darkly, not touching her.

His cock twitched in his pants when she followed his order almost immediately.

“Onto the bed, on all fours, legs spread, upper body on the mattress.”

Fuck, what a sight. Her pink pussy was right in front of him, all he had to do was to pull out his cock and slam it into that tight hole...

Not today, he reminded himself.

He knelt down on one leg, her pussy in front of his face now. He breathed in her musky scent and his cock filled with blood, rising fast.

She gasped when he gave her a friendly slap on her left and then right cheek. Then he grabbed them both and spread her open until he could see both holes. Fuck she was getting wet right in front of his eyes, her pink flesh glistening now.

“Beg me”, he ordered sharply.

“Please, god, please!” she panted, her fingers clawing into the sheets.

“Good girl”, he praised her.

His head dizzy from her intoxicating scent he bent forward and finally, finally tasted her teen juice. His tongue plowed through her lips from her clit all the way over her ass, swallowing the juice he picked up on the way.

She tasted like more.

He lapped at her hungrily, losing control of his own desires for a while. He had dreamt of that cunt. He wanted it bad.

Her legs were shaking and he had to steady her wiggling ass with another slap. Red loved his attention, rewarding and begging with squeals, moans and gasps. He noticed how excited she got when he let the tip of his tongue circle her anus and his cock began aching. A three-hole-girl. Perfect.

He made her cum on his mouth twice before he slammed two fingers into her still pumping pussy, exploring her slick tunnel as far as he could. Her muscles clenched around him. She had trained them well. He couldn’t wait to let them grab his cock, trying to make him stay inside her.

...Not today, he had to remind himself again.

He made her cum on his fingers, enjoying her wails and the sight of her quivering ass.

Taking as much juice as possible on his way, he pulled out his fingers. She watched when he licked it off.

Then he rose to his feet. Her eyes widened in shock when she understood.

“Please”, her little whimper stopped him. “Please don’t leave me.”

He turned around. Tears were in her eyes.

“I need you. Please don’t go.”

After a long look, he strolled back to the bed and looked into her eyes while he opened his pants. With a gasp she crawled to the edge of the bed and had her sweet mouth on his cock right after he had pulled it out. He watched her, saw the bliss on her face when she kissed, licked and sucked on his big cock. She did it so lovingly, admiring his dick with every slow stroke of her tongue.

They had come such a long way. A brat she had been and now...she was woman, loving and giving and begging to be loved back.

A hand glided into her hair and his fingers began massaging her scalp while she pleasured him.

“Take him all the way into your mouth”, he ordered in a soft tone.

His jaw clenched when she did, looking up at him questioningly.

“Good girl”, he praised her and her eyes sparkled with gratitude.

He allowed her to please him as long as she wanted and she took her sweet time. He had to admit he had never been blown like this before, with such devotion. It felt fucking fantastic.

She moaned and swallowed hungrily when he ejaculated into her warm little mouth. After he had finished she smiled up at him and opened her mouth, showing him that she had drunk it all. He chuckled and stroke her cheek.

“Good girl.”

She leaned into his touch. His heart skipped a beat and his finger brushed over her soft skin. Oh, how much he wanted to claim her for himself. But he knew that wasn’t his role. He was her guardian. He had to show her what she needed and then let her find a man who could give it to her.

“Now, let’s have dinner”, he said and put his cock back in his pants. “You need more than sperm to stay healthy. You could use a bit more weight on those narrow hips.”

“Okay.”

No snide comment, no protest. He had done wonders with this girl.

She watched him cook her dinner, sitting on the counter, only wearing her long green sweater that fell over her left, freckled shoulder and her elegant collarbone. He asked about her day and she gave an entertaining report. They laughed and ate together, sitting on the high chairs at the counter.

“Can I kiss you?” she suddenly asked into the comfortable silence that had spread between them.

“Not tonight”, he replied, even though her strawberry lips were things he loved thinking about.

“When?” she asked shyly.

“When you’re ready.”

“Am I not ready?”

“No”, he chuckled.

“But why?”

He didn’t answer her.

“I want you to go out and bring back a guy tonight. I want you to fuck him on the couch.”

“So you can watch me?”

Ah, the sass. There it lifted its destructive head again.

“No”, he replied patiently and lifted her face by her chin. “So you can watch me”, he explained and stroke her bottom lip with his thumb, smiling.

Tears were in the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away and left.

She was getting attached, he mused. He had to be careful.

Even though she hadn’t been keen, she did as she had been told. Her moans signaled her return and after a few minutes he slipped into the room, just in time to see her naked body lower onto the bloke she had brought. Her eyes found his. A quiver of her lips, a flutter of her eyelids when she took in the cock. It felt like she was sitting down on him. Their eyes never left each other while she rode the stranger, slowly, savouringly, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, little gasps coming out of that sweet mouth. With his eyes he told her what he would do if it was him she was riding, told her that he would kiss her neck while his hands caressed her skin, covered her tits, massaged them, teased her nipples with his thumbs.

Another gasp fell from her lips and she rolled her hips.

He told her he would kiss and lick and suck her nipples, that he’d push his index finger deep into her ass and gently fuck that little pucker.

“Oh God”, she whispered and began riding the guy beneath her hard, began panting, her eyes burning with desire for him, her therapist, her guardian.

When she came squealing he could feel her pussy clench around his cock. For him, only for him, he thought.

Red broke down then, shaking violently, the bloke wrapping his arms around her. Jealousy shot through him and he knew it was time to leave. So he did.

^w^

On some level he knew they had entered dangerous waters, that they became too attached to one another.

So he made her bring more guys to fuck and tried to stay away. A big mistake. After the third time he found her crying in bed, still naked, the guy gone a minute.

Of course she wouldn’t understand. She was too young. He could kick himself.

When he lay down on the bed behind her, she tried to push him away, insulting him. Normally he would spank her for such words, but this time it had been his fault. So he only shushed her and took her into his arms, pressing her squirming body against his. It felt so good. Even better when she melted against him and cried her poor little heart out.

“I d-d-d-on’t und-d-erstand!”

“I know. I’m sorry. I should have watched. You did good. You’re a good girl. It’s not your fault. Shhh...”

Gently he rocked her naked body until the tears died away.

When she was calm, he began stroking her beautiful young body: Her arms, her shoulders, her neck, her side, her thighs, her full ass...her tits.

She moaned and writhed, her legs parting for him.

God, she was so sexy in her obedience.

Against his better judgement he bent down and sucked her left nipple into his mouth and his hand wandered between her thighs. His index and middle finger rubbed and twisted the little cherry, making it swell and harden. Then he pushed his fingers inside her and spread her sticky juice all over her bald slit, making her pussy smack while he stroke her. Red’s legs were shaking and her hand was fisted in his shirt. Their eyes locked. She looked up at him with big eyes and parted lips, an adorable blush on her cheeks.

They held their gazes while he pleasured her, gave her what she needed so bad: His attention and devotion.

When she came she moaned loudly and her whole body was shaking violently. He held her tight, keeping her safe while she fell.

When it was done, she breathed against his neck and clung to him. So they lay for longer than it was in any way professional. But he couldn’t let her go. Her scent, her warmth...it was too much. He craved her, too.

He was about to roll her onto his stomach and give into the demands of his aching cock when the phone rang all of a sudden.

“I have to answer this, little dove”, he whispered into her hair and after she nodded, he released her and stood up.

An emergency session, court ordered.

He had never been so happy about one of those.

[mldrgrl]

What it Feels Like For a Girl

by: mldrgrl Rating: NC-17 Summary: I had several Anons, and one non-Anon, requesting a body swapping story where instead of Morris Fletcher and Mulder swapping bodies in Dreamland, it’s Mulder and Scully.  So, here’s the result.  Mulder and Scully swap bodies at a very inopportune time.  (Or very opportune, depending on how you look at it). Note: I’m going to be honest here and say, I don’t think this is a concept that works well on paper.  A visual medium serves this thing a lot better.  Oh, well.  A big thank you to @kateyes224 for being the first to get through it :D 

As the blinding light in the sky hovers closer, Mulder takes hold of my wrist and squeezes.  I can’t see past the light, now shining directly into my eyes so strongly that I have to put my hand in front of my face because squinting doesn’t cut it.

There’s a flash and a moment of equally blinding darkness where it takes a moment for my sight to recover itself.  Morris Fletcher still stands grimly before us, flanked by military personnel who look a little too trigger happy for my taste.

“Come on, Mulder,” I say, but the strange thing is, I don’t hear my voice, I hear his.  When I look to my right, he’s not there.  When I look down, he’s still gripping my wrist, except I feel like I’m the one doing the holding.  And then I’m looking into my own startled eyes.

“What the fu-?” she says, right about the time I’m blurting out “oh my God.”

“Mulder?” I whisper.

“Scully?”

We’re both interrupted by an impatient Fletcher, barking at us that we are trespassing on government property.  She...he looks annoyed, clearly about to make an ill-advised retort and I shake my head at him.

“Come on,” I say, tugging on the sleeve of my own jacket.  “Let’s just go.”

There’s an awkward moment of confusion as we move to the car, heading to our usual sides. Mulder stumbles over his feet and then tip-toes towards the driver’s door with miniscule, shuffling steps.  

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss at him.

“I can’t walk in these shoes!” he hisses back.

I don’t fit into the passenger side.  I’ve never not fit into any space ever.  But, here I am, knees folded up and knocking into the glove compartment.  He’s not faring much better, unable to reach the pedals and clearly distressed about it.

“Maybe we should switch?” I suggest.

“Not until we get out of here and find out what the hell is going on.  How do you...Jesus, I can’t reach anything!”

This is surreal.  Whatever’s happening feels like a nightmare or a bad acid trip.  I keep pinching the skin on my wrist trying to snap out of whatever this is, but it’s not working.  Out of curiosity, I reach up and touch my face, feel my fingers scrape across the five o’clock shadow dusting my cheeks.  This can’t be happening.  This can’t possibly be happening.

*****

We don’t talk much on the way to our motel.  I can’t speak for Mulder...well, actually, I am speaking for Mulder, currently, but I think it’s just too damn weird to try to talk to each other and hear someone else speaking.  It’s jarring.  We do agree on one thing though, and that’s the fact that we need to get back to DC as soon as possible.

Actually, we agree on two things.  We get back to DC as soon a possible, and we don’t tell anyone about this until we know for sure what’s going on.  To that end, I book a red eye out of Santa Fe and Mulder hastily packs up our motel rooms.  

“Don’t you have any flats?” he whines, digging through my duffel bag.

“At home.”

“I feel like I’m going to break an ankle.”  He takes tentative steps across the motel room, trips twice, and nearly takes a header into the wall, but I happen to catch him.

“You hurt me, I’ll kill you.”

He stands there wobbling like a baby giraffe.  I’m afraid if I laugh at him he’ll think I’m enjoying this situation.  Trust me, I’m not.  Of all the messes he’s gotten us into, this one surely takes the cake.  So, I just stand there, with my arms crossed, watching Mulder hobble back and forth until he can assure us both he isn’t going to fall on his ass in a pair of two-inch heels.

The flight home is the most uncomfortable flight I have ever been on.  I prefer a window seat when I fly normally, but my whole body feels too long to fit anywhere but the aisle.  Mulder, on the other hand, looks almost pleased with himself and leans back in the seat and stretches.

“This is great,” he says.  “I’ve never had so much room before.”

As soon as I get my own body back, I’m going to kill him.  Slowly.  Using lots of torture.

Maybe it’s crankiness from the unbearable cross-country journey, or the awkwardness of being in someone else’s body, but as soon as the flight lands, I have the compulsory need to be as far away from him as possible.  It’s so hard to look at him and see myself, but to know it isn’t me.

“I think we need to stick together,” he says to me as we head to the taxi line.  “Just stay by each other’s sides until we come up with a way of fixing this.”

There’s a moment where he starts to put his hand on the small of my back out of habit, but his usual aim is thrown off by our change in height and instead lands directly on my ass.  I jump.

“Mulder!”

“Wha-oh!  Sorry.”

“Be careful.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Well how would you like it if I smacked your a...nevermind.  Have you come up with any solutions?”

“No.  You?”

“None.  I do think we need to behave as normal though.  Go about our days like nothing unusual has happened.”

“Days?”

“We don’t know how long this is going to last, Mulder.  Hours, days, weeks-”

“Don’t say months.”

“Years.”

“Years,” he barks.

“Keep your voice down,” I whisper, bending so our heads are closer together.  I don’t think I’ve ever had to bend down to speak to anyone in my life.  Why do I have to be so short and why does he have to be so tall?  It’s a wonder neither of us has suffered a neck sprain in the past six years.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“I am far from calm, but I’m not going to freak out in a taxi line.”

“Well, then what do you want to do?”

“It’s Saturday.  We go home.  We think on it.  We come in on Monday, go over our ideas, and hopefully, one of us will have thought of something brilliant.”

“You want to split up?”

“I want to think.  Which means, I don’t want to be distracted and I don’t want to get dragged into any other of your crazy schemes until I’ve had the chance to process this.”  There’s a taxi approaching and we’re next in line, so I do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for Mulder.  He reluctantly slides into the back seat and I hand over my duffel bag to him.

“Oh, and Mulder,” I say, just before I close to door.  “Do not, under any circumstances, get me into any trouble.  Just remember, I already shot you once.”

“Scully, I really think-”

I slam the door to cut him off.  I just want to get home and come up with a solution.

*****

I am well and truly exhausted by the time I get to Mulder’s apartment, my home sweet home for the next...however long it takes to fix this mess.  I want nothing more than to lay down, take a nap, and hope I’ve dreamed up something truly amazing by the time I wake up.  What I didn’t count on was the fact that Mulder really and truly didn’t have a bed.

All these years, I really thought he’d been joking when he said he never got around to buying a bed since he preferred his couch anyway.  He referred to his bedroom as the storage closet, and though I have glanced into it a time or two, all I saw were boxes.  Surely there must be a bed hidden under there somewhere, so I thought.  Well, I was wrong.

I almost called Mulder to berate him right then and there, first for getting us into this mess, second for not living like a proper adult, but what would that really solve?  I’d still be without a bed for the foreseeable future.  So, I did what a normal human being would do and I looked up the nearest mattress store in the Yellow Pages and drove down.  I probably spent an hour trying them all out, found one I liked, and with the swipe of Mulder’s credit card conveniently located in the wallet in my back pocket, bought him a mattress and bedframe that would be delivered bright and early tomorrow morning.  One night on the couch probably wouldn’t kill me.

With that done, I went to the mall and bought some sheets and pillows for the new bed and then on to the grocery store for food.  I’ve seen the science experiments growing in Mulder’s fridge and, though I’m pro-science experiment, I’m anti-eating them.  It also occured to me, once I got back and fixed myself a nice salad, I had better clear out all that junk in the storage closet so the bed would have a place to go.

In the midst of packing boxes and cleaning, I used the time to think.  I don’t know though, something about being in Mulder’s body must have affected my brain, because the only ideas I could come up with were ones that he would’ve thrown at me.  We could see a psychic.  We could hold a seance.  We could try time travel.

By the time I’m finished turning the bedroom into an actual bedroom, it’s past dinner time, and I do the most Mulder thing I can do.  I order a pizza and sprawl out on the couch in front of a movie.

At this point, you’re probably wondering why I’m boring you with all this stupid, mundane crap when you must be thinking oh my God, you’re in an entirely different body, why haven’t you inspected it from head to toe and tried out all the...new body features.  Well, look, I am curious beyond belief about what it’s really like to be a man, but I’m going to have to look Mulder in the eye again and I don’t know if I can satisfy a curiosity and still maintain a professional relationship after that.  There are boundaries.

But, fine, I may have changed into a nice pair of jeans and a sweater within the full length view of a mirror, not that I was looking, but I think the few glimpses I caught will allow me to keep my integrity intact.  I mean, and I did have to shower, so that was interesting.  I didn’t attempt to shave, but I will compliment Mulder on the body wash he uses.  It was very nice and I might try to find some with a more feminine smell when things are back to normal.

The only real challenge I run into is how to use the bathroom.  It’s one thing to check out Mulder’s body, but another thing to touch certain parts that need to be touched, I assume, when one uses the bathroom.  I mean, I didn’t know what would happen.  Do I just stay still and hope it aims itself, or what if once I start it’s like an out of control fire hose situation?  I know it’s not very manly, but I opt to sit down to pee.  Mulder doesn’t have to know.

*****

It’s late I think, at least past 10pm, and I’m dozing on the couch when my cell phone rings.  “Scully,” I mumble out of habit.  “Um, I mean Mul-”

“Scully, it’s me.”  There’s an edge to his (my?) voice that doesn’t sound good.

“Mulder?”

“You don’t...you don’t happen to feel like you’re dying, do you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh God,” he moans.  “Scully...something’s wrong.”

“Mulder?”

“Something is really, really wrong.”

“Mulder, I’ll be right there.  Don’t move.”

I’m off the couch in an instant, thankful for my suddenly longer legs that get me out of the apartment and down the block to Mulder’s car in what feels like two minutes flat.  I’m also grateful that I gave him a key a few years back and I use it to enter my apartment about fifteen minutes later.  All the lights are off.  I call out to him and he answers from the bedroom.

I find him curled up on the bed, still wearing the same pantsuit I threw on before accompanying him on that wild goose chase to New Mexico.  There’s just enough light filtering in from the street lamps outside to highlight the anguish on his face.  Let me tell you, it’s a little disconcerting to see yourself in pain.  I crawl onto the bed and put my hand on his forehead, but he’s cool as a cucumber.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You don’t feel it?” he answers, lifting his eyes up to me.

“Feel what, Mulder?”

He bursts into tears and rolls away from me.  “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Tell you what?”

“I thought it must be an effect of whatever this thing is that’s going on, but if it’s just me and it’s not you, then it can’t be and it hurts so much.  Scully, why didn’t you tell me the cancer was back?”

“What?”  If I wasn’t panicked before, I certainly am now.  “What the hell are you talking about, Mulder?”

“Your body is dying, I can feel it.  I’m dying.”

“What hurts?”

“Everything!  Everything, God, my head is...and there’s this pain in my back - I think it’s the kidneys.  Scully, I think your kidneys are going to explode.  And then the light was too bright and I feel sick and then like right here…”  He presses a hand to his hip, a little lower and off center from his abdomen.  “It’s like...I don’t even know.  Something is happening right there, something bad.”

It dawns on my almost immediately and I do some quick math and think about the date.  If it wasn’t so tragic, I’d laugh.

“Mulder, you’re not dying.”

“Do you think it’s appendicitis?”

“It’s not appendicitis either.  You’re PMSing.”

“I’m what?”

“You’ll be starting your period tomorrow.”

There’s a monumental silence that follows as he stares at me, silent tears trickling down his cheeks.  And then he gasps loudly and starts weeping.

“Why am I crying!” he chokes out.

“Hormones.”

“What am I going to do?”

I try not to roll my eyes.  “You’re going to do what every woman since the dawn of time has done, you’re just going to deal with it.”

“But, I have no idea what to do with...the things and the...you know…”

Yes, I do know.  And a few moments ago I’ll admit I was feeling a little smug about Mulder having to getting to experience what it’s really like to be a woman, but he’s got to experience that in my body, which means…hoo boy.  And of course he’s not going to know how to handle the finer details of a menstrual cycle, which means it’s going to be up to me to show him.  What other alternative is there?

I’m never going to New Mexico with him again.  In fact, I’m never going anywhere with him again.  This is all his fault.  If not for his stupid, wild goose chase, Mulder wouldn’t have cramps and I wouldn’t be on the verge of showing him how to use a tampon.  Jesus, but there’s another even more embarrassing conversation we’re going to have to have in a minute and it’s going to make the rest of it seem like a picnic.

“Alright, Mulder, I have medication I’m going to get for you,” I tell him.  “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”  He wipes his eyes with the backs of his hands and I slip off the bed.

I grab the prescription bottle from the medicine cabinet and fill the water glass on my sink.  I consider for a moment just leaving it as this - giving him the pills and walking away - but, I can see him behind me in the mirror, doubled up on the bed, probably praying for swift and sweet relief and I know all too well what it’s like and how it feels to just want someone, anyone to come take care of me when it’s as bad as this.  So, I have to bite the bullet and get him through this the best that I can because in a way, I’m doing this for myself.

“Take these,” I say, handing him two pills and the glass of water when I return to the bedroom.  He sits up, just enough to swallow them down and grimaces as he tries to lay down again onto his back.  I put the bill bottle and the glass on the nightstand and stare at the top drawer for a few moments before I sit beside him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, shutting his eyes.  That’s good.  It might be easier to talk to him if he’s not looking at me.

“Mulder…”

He sort of grunts-slash-whimpers in response.  I reach over to gently untuck his shirt from his slacks.  “Why haven’t you changed?” I ask.  “I’ve-you’ve been in this suit for two days.”

“I didn’t feel right about it.”

I unbutton the top button on the slacks and rest my hand low on the bare skin of his abdomen.  I press down, slowly increasing the pressure.

“Oh,” he breathes with a sigh.  “Your hand is warm.  Oh, that’s nice.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand on my wrist like he’s afraid I’ll move away.

“You need to get undressed,” I whisper to him, making a gentle circular motion with my hand.  “You need to get more comfortable.”

He doesn’t move, although he gives a tiny shake of his head and his brow furrows slightly.  He grips my wrist a little harder.  “I’m good here.”

“Come on,” I tease.  “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“It isn’t right.”

“You have my permission, Mulder, if that’s what you need so we can deal with this.”

It’s an interesting thing to watch Mulder’s expressions of struggle play out on my face.  I can see him even if I’m looking into my own eyes.  It’s bizarre.  But, then again, I’ve always said I could read his face as easily as I read my own.  I just never imagined for it to be so literal.

“How about this?” I say.  “You’re the only one that can take care of my body right now and I need you to do what I ask of you because you’ll get sick if you don’t.  I trust you.”

That seems to do the trick.  He nods a little, but still clutches my wrist.

“I was wrong when I said we should go about our days like everything is fine.  You were right, we need to stick together on this, so I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll get you through this, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“What’s going to happen right now is, I’m going to go into the other room.  You’re going to get undressed.  You’re going to open the top drawer of my nightstand and you’re going to take out the blue velvet drawstring bag.”  I pause.  “Um, I’m sure you’ll figure it out from there.  And when you’re doing, take a nice hot bath and go to bed.  As for tomorrow...we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Mulder stutters, taking a vice-grip on my arm.  “Are you asking...no.  No, no, no.”

“It’s okay.  You just need to do this and...it helps.  I promise.”

“No way.  For one thing I’m not...and for another it’s...no, Scully, I can’t.”

“Listen, the medication alone isn’t going to solve everything.  I’ve learned over the course of dealing with this for the last 20 years, so you’re going to have to true me.”

“I do trust you, Scully, but I’m not...I’m not you.”

“You do know how to bring a woman to or-”

“Yes!  Yes, but that’s different.  And it’s...it’s what you said before, this is your body.”

“Which you’re currently occupying.  If you think I’m not dying a little of mortification right now that I have to explain all of this to you right now, you’d be wrong.  But, I’m telling you, from personal experience, that an orgasm increases the blood flow to the uterus and contracts the muscles, which will ease the cramps you’re having now.  It also releases dopamine and endorphins, which are going to make the migraine you’ve got building up to go away and will let you sleep.  So, there’s a really nice, really expensive, very trustworthy vibrator in that drawer and if you just...tonight is going to be a lot easier for you to handle if you do what I tell you to.”

“No.”

“Mulder!”  God, but his stubbornness is exasperating.

“You do it.”

“I can’t do it.  You’re me and I’m you.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly, so-”

“You know what to do.  You do the thing with the...thing.  That way you’re the one taking care of things.”

Oh my God.  “Well, that’s not really…”

“See.  You can’t tell me it’s okay for me, but not for you, if your argument is you’re me and I’m you.”

“I mean, that is the argument, but then if I’m involved, it would really be you that’s involved because I’m you and you’re me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, it’s the exact same argument for why you should versus why you shouldn’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry, this is the first time I’ve been in someone else’s body and I don’t really know what’s okay and what isn’t!”

“Scully, I can definitely tell you it’s not okay to ask me to masterbate in your stead because I don’t even think it would technically count as masturbation since I’m not you.  So, if you want this body to get off, you’re going to have to be the one to get it off because it’s your body, not mine.”

I realize this argument has gotten a little out of hand and though we’re not quite shouting, it’s louder than it probably should be.  I take it back down to a decent level.  “Alright,” I say.  “I see your point.”

“Good.  So, I’ll go ahead and take that hot bath if you get a swimsuit for me and as for-”

“I mean, alright, Mulder.”  I know this is insane, but I really do see his point.  I also know that if he’s up all night in pain, if he doesn’t get any sleep, if he can’t shake that headache or the cramps, it’s only going to get worse from here.  He’s leaving me no choice.

“You mean...wait, I don’t know if…”

“We both agree.  It’s my body, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”  First thing’s first, we need to get him undressed.  Maybe what I need to do is stop thinking about him as Mulder, but as me.  We need to get me undressed.  “Sit up,” I say.

He does as I ask with quite a bit of hesitation and doesn’t look at me.  But then, he lifts his eyes and I sit back as the air leaves my lungs.  He’s reclined slightly, hands pressed back behind his hips, a little flushed, hair mussed, smudges of mascara under his eyes, and I have this moment of complete awe.  He looks...I look beautiful.  It tightens my chest and sends a flutter to my gut.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

Christ, Mulder, I think.  I want you to stop looking at me like that.  There’s fear there, but also trust, and expectation, like I have all the answers to all the questions in the world.  It’s making me feel flustered and incompetent.  Is this why Mulder always stutters when we argue?

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks in embarrassment.  

“You are, you know.  I mean, you say that like you have no idea.”

“Okay, maybe this really wasn’t-”

“Scully.”  He puts his hand on my cheek and it feels soft and delicate, but it feels like Mulder.

“Take your shirt off.”

His hand slides away slowly and then he pulls at his shirt from the back of the neck, typical man.  I stop him before he can stretch it out and break any threads in the collar.  I happen to really like that shirt.  I take it up from the bottom and he lifts his arms to help draw it off.  He blinks a few times.  I have to lean into him to reach around and unhook his bra.  Surprisingly, I fumble slightly, unaccustomed to the length of my own fingers.

“You smell like me,” he says, and I can feel his breath against my neck.  It raises the hairs on my arms and stirs my groin.  Oh God.

“I had a shower,” I answer, pulling back.

“Oh yeah?  How did that go?”

“Nothing to say about it.”

“Did you look?”

“Look at what?”

“It’s okay if you did.”

“Mulder, I’m a doctor.”

“Hm.”  He studies my face for a moment and then lays back and closes his eyes.

I lay down as well, on my side, propped up on an elbow, and put my hand on his chest, palm between his breasts and fingers splayed.  My chest, I remember.  My breasts.  I start with a soft caress, knowing how sensitive and achy my chest would be right now.

“I should tell you,” he says, cracking one eye open a little and shifting his gaze down to my waist.  “Sometimes...he’s got a mind of his own.  I don’t know if anything will happen, but right now my hand is on a beautiful woman’s breast, so you might want to start thinking of Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus?”

“I don’t know why, but it helps.

“Okay, thanks for the warning.”

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath.  My hand rises and falls with his chest and I pick up where I left off, this time slowly sliding the back of my hand around the curve of his right breast.  His mouth opens a little and he takes another deep breath.  I take my thumb and circle over and around the nipple, gentle enough so that it’s hardly a touch at all.  He bites into his bottom lip and scratches at the bedclothes.  

It feels like there’s electricity in the room, humming between our bodies.  I’ll blame it on the charge and say that it’s what compels me to lean over and kiss his neck.  I know the spot to hit, just below the ear and at the edge of the hairline.  For whatever reason, it’s always made me light up like a Christmas tree.  He whimpers, and one knee bends up ever so slightly and then slides back down, but his brow furrows like he’s in pain.

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?” he squeaks, and then clears his throat.  “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

It takes a few seconds to answer and he shifts his hips.  “Um, I think so.”

“Open your eyes for me.”

He blinks rapidly and then holds his eyes open to mine.  They’re wide and dark, but when I sweep the back of my hand down along his side, they droop almost sleepily.  It’s encouraging and I move on, bending my neck to place my lips against the top swell of his breast, with gentle suction, just how I like it.  His knee slides up again, higher this time, and bumps the side of my hip.  Without thinking, I catch his leg, hand wrapped around the inner thigh, and hold it there, slightly open, as I work my mouth down and across his chest.

He breathes my name and his fingers suddenly slide into my hair, first one hand and then the other.  Damn, but it feels good.  I’ve always loved the soothing act of having my hair washed at a salon, but it’s incomparable to having nails scratching at your scalp and thumbs skimming your nape.  It’s like I can feel it in the roots of my hair down to my toes.

Before I know it, I’m looming over him like it’s a natural move to make.  I know at this stage when I’m with a man, I’d be pulling him into that perfect cradle between my thighs where they fit so nicely, but the compulsion for me right now is to slide into that space myself.  As I sink down, I’m conscious of what the weight of a man is like, pressing you down, making you feel more delicate than you are at times.  And I’m conscious of just how much larger I feel.  The body under mine, my body, feels vulnerable, and I have the urge to protect it, to treat it carefully, and by extension, to protect Mulder, treat him carefully as well.

“Is this alright?” I ask.

“Mmhm,” he says, shifting beneath me.  His bent legs are pressed to my hips and his hands move to my shoulders and then I begin to waver.

I’ll be completely honest here, I have no idea what I’m doing.  I don’t engage in any foreplay when I’m by myself, mostly because I don’t need to, but even if I know the ins and outs of my body, I don’t know what it feels like for Mulder right now.  I know what I’m feeling like in his body, and all the images of a fat, bearded man in a red suit that I’m trying to conjure up are no match for what’s happening to me.

It’s insane, I know, but this has got to be the single most erotic thing that’s ever happened in my life.  And I also I know that the brain is a powerful organ, but it’s a mind-bending concept to be able to touch yourself with someone else’s hands and not recognize your own body.  As it happened, I had to wonder, has my breast always felt this soft and heavy, or is that just how it feels in Mulder’s hand?  Has my abdomen always felt so smooth?  Has my hip always curved so invitingly?

And I’ll be damned if the ache of arousal is any different now than when I’m in my own body.  The pressure is the same, if not a little lower in the pelvis.  The heavy, swollen feeling between my legs is the same, but with a different consequence.  And yet, I’m still overwhelmed with the urge to grind my hips into the bed, just as I would if I was myself.

I make a move to back up just a little lower, and oh my god, the friction and the pressure is both delicious and unbearable.  I reflexively groan a little and Mulder opens his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” I breathe, recognizing the hoarseness in my voice as the same one I’d encountered on occasion from knocking on our connecting motel doors and being told ‘just a minute.’

I move up and off of Mulder to sit back on my heels.  His eyes travel down to my lap and back up again when I unzip his pants.  The pressure against my jeans is tipping past the border of pleasurable to painful.  ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…

I grit my teeth, wiggling his pants off his hips and drawing them down his legs.  I notice with a little bit of relief that even if he couldn’t manage to get undressed, he did at least remove my socks and shoes.  All that he’s wearing now is navy blue panties, not the sexiest pair I own, but it could be worse.

Faced with this moment though, this turning point, I have to pause.  He’s aroused, I can see it and I can smell it.  I’m aroused, which is becoming more and more painfully obvious with each passing second.  So, what do we do about it?  Should we keep running from what I’m fairly certain we’ve both wanted for quite some time, or do we give in and experience something no one else on this planet has likely experienced before?  Jump or turn back?

“Mulder, I...I asked you to take care of my body for me and I never...I should’ve asked if you want me to do the same.”

“You looked, didn’t you?”

“Of course I looked.”

“Did you like what you saw?”

“I want this.  I want this if you want this, but I need your help.”

“You need a hand?”  He smirks and reaches for the fly of my jeans.

“I want you to show me what you like and I want you to tell me how it feels for you.”

“Well, the first part’s easy.  I like everything.”  He sits up and pushes my open jeans off my hips, a little rougher than I would have, and takes the boxers down with it.  Without any hesitance, he wraps a hand around my shaft, making a tight fist, and tugs up once, leading with the thumb to circle the head lightly.

“Holy mother of fuck,” I groan.  His grip remains firm and his rhythm is steady.  He twists his wrist just a little with every upwards  jerk of his hand.  It’s not the slow climb towards ecstasy I’m used to.  There’s an immediate gratification that comes with it, but also no satisfaction.  I want more, but it’s also too much.  “Sss...stop…” I pant.

He releases me and I swear all the air leaves my lungs with a whoosh.  I already want the feeling back.  Instead, I lean over and kiss him.  It’s not what I expect it to be and I’ll admit, I’m a little letdown, but I suppose that’s only because I’ve fantasized about being able to run my tongue over that pouty lower lip of his.  We both pull away with as though the disappointment is mutual.

I’m overwhelmed by a feeling of bashfulness and as I look down and sit back, suddenly remember that I’m still fully clothed.  Nervously, I take off my shirt and then I have to lay down to kick my shoes and pants off.  And then I just lie there, fully naked, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.

“Hey,” Mulder says, laying down beside me putting his chin on my shoulder.  “We don’t have to do this.”

“I know we don’t.  I want to though, it’s just…”

He takes my hand, twines our fingers together and then brings them to his chest.  I can feel the swift thump of his heart which matches the beat of my own, quick and strong.  I roll towards him so we’re face to face, nose to nose.  He leans his forehead against mine.

“I wouldn’t do this with anyone but you,” I say.

“Me either.”  He let’s go of my hand and reaches down to slide the panties off.  “Is it weird that I keep thinking how much I want you inside me right now?”

I shake my head.  “Not unless it’s weird that I keep thinking about how much I want to be inside you.”

“I want to know what it’s like to feel what you feel.”

“I do too.”

“How do you want to do this?”

“How about just like this?”

“Okay.”

But, neither of us really know how to start.  We make some abbreviated movements towards bringing our bodies together, but fall short.  Finally, I take his leg and pull it over my hip.  I don’t know if I want to watch his face for this moment, or if I want to watch us.  Ultimately, I settle on us and leave it up to Mulder to guide me inside.  

We don’t magically come together like I’d imagined.  There’s fumbling and just as I feel myself start to ease into his warm, wet folds, he let’s go and I slip away.  He grips my shoulders, breathing hard, and I reach up to push away the hair that’s fallen in front of his face.

“You okay?” I ask.

“It’s different.  Stings a little.  I don’t want...I don’t want to hurt you somehow.”

“It’s just for a moment, I promise.  You won’t hurt me.  But, if it’s too much, or too soon, we can slow down.”

“What if I’m not ready?  How would I know?”

At first I think he means emotionally, but it’s the follow up question that changes things.  And since he has no first-hand experience, that’s true, how would he know?  I reach down between his legs and dip my middle finger inside.  He tenses and I can feel the resistance of his body.

“Relax,” I whisper to him.

“I’m trying.”

I understand his nervousness.  I think back over my first few times during sex, when it felt like an invasion of my body, no matter how much I wanted it.  I adjust my hand, pull my finger out slowly just a little, and then slide back in, curling it as I do.  I must admit, having longer fingers makes hitting my target a lot easier.  His mouth drops open with a sharp gasp and his hips push forward into mine.

“Good?” I ask.

“Uh huh.”

I do a bit of lazy exploration with my thumb, skimming indirectly over the sensitive little bud that’s going to ultimately make Mulder’s toes curl, before I bring it out of hiding.  He moans and pulls my hip closer with his thigh.

“You have to tell me,” I say.

“It’s so fleeting.  I don’t know.”

I slow down and make exaggerated circles with my thumb, increasing the pressure and tightness of the motion little by little.  I know when I’ve got it just right when his hips roll forward, but then he jerks back and my hand slips free.

“Oh, that was…” his breath hitches.

“It’s okay.  Move with it, not away from it.”

We start over from the beginning, but quickly find our way back to before.  My hand cramps a lot quicker than usual, but quitting isn’t an option.  Fortunately, he’s learned quickly how to match the rhythm of my hand with his hips.  There’s just one more thing I think he needs for me to get him there.

“I want you to try to squeeze my finger,” I say.

“What?” he breathes.

“Think about those muscles down there, and try to squeeze.”

His inner thighs tighten against my hand.

“Not the legs.  Inside.  You can do it, you just have to concentrate on it.”

A determined look comes over his face and I slow just enough to make him want it that much more.  “Oh, don’t stop,” he says, just as I feel the slightest bit of pressure against my finger.

“I’m not.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.  Oh, Scully, that’s...oh…”

He tenses and rocks forward.  His nails dig into my shoulder and it sends a jolt of desire straight down my own body.  The heavy ache I felt earlier is becoming tight and painful again.  I slip my hand out of Mulder and wrap it around my shaft, just as he’d done earlier.  There is a need in my gut like being thirsty with a glass of water just out of reach.

“I need you,” I murmur.  “Mulder, please.”

“I need you too.”

With less fumbling this time around, I manage to push guide myself inside.  And oh my god, to be enveloped by the heat and the wetness and the tight grip of his body is just...oh my god.  But, Mulder is whimpering, making a short little gasps in the back of his throat and I stop halfway in and hold onto him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he breathes.  “Nothing, this is just...it feels so...it’s so different.”

“You feel amazing.”

“More.  I want more.”

“Are you sure?”

“All of it. I want to feel all of you.  Please.”

I push deeper, until our hips meet, and then I stop and relish the moment.  Our bellies press together, our thighs are twined, our chests expand together with every breath and I actually don’t know where I start and end any longer.  When I move, he moves.  When I put my arm around him, he puts his arm around me.

The pleasure sensation is different, more acute, more like tingling pressure.  It drives my hips forward.  The rapid beat of my heart matches the quick pulse between my legs.  Blood rushes through my veins, heats my chest, swells in my groin.  I have the urge to move faster, but this position has me restrained.

I stop, only long enough to roll Mulder onto his back and press up on my knees.  The new position forces Mulder’s legs wide apart and I take his right leg and drape it over my shoulder.  He grips my ass impatiently and I slam my hips back into his, grinding down a little with my public bone this time.

“Oh my god,” he cries out.  At least, that’s what I think he says.  It’s one long exhale and a groan, but that’s what it sounds like.

I have to agree though.  Oh my god.  Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.  Everything below my pelvis starts to tighten.  This must be it.  I can feel the release is imminent.  And Mulder’s got that pinched-brow expression of deep concentration again.  I can feel him.  I can feel him pulling me deeper, squeezing me tighter, and my eyes start to roll back in my head.

“Oh god, oh god.”  I’m not sure who yells it, but I know I feel like a bottle of champagne that’s just been uncorked.  All the pressure that’s been rising up explodes into stars behind my eyes.  The force of it is so strong that I can’t breathe.  I can only groan and quiver.  Beneath me, Mulder is also moaning softly.  The heel of his left foot digs softly into my ass.

I’m on the verge of collapse and muster up enough strength to pull his leg from my shoulder and turn onto my side.  I want to weep when I feel our bodies disconnect.  I reach for him just as he reaches for me and we twine together again, a lot stickier and sweatier than before.

“Wow,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t move.”

“Me neither.”

“You were right about the orgasm thing though.  It’s like the cramps never happened.”

I chuckle a little.  “That’s good.”

“And, like, Scully...twice?  In a row?  It’s not even like a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am kind of way either, those are just...wow.”

“It’s not always like that.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Huh.”  He stares up at the ceiling and considers this.  “Does that mean I should be flattered, or should you?”

I laugh and shrug a little.  Mulder presses his cheek to my arm and sighs.  Laying here like this doesn’t feel that strange at all.

“Do I still need that hot bath?” he asks.

“You should.  Even if it’s just to clean up.”

“You want to join me?”

“Yeah.  Sure.  I might need a minute.”

“Should’ve warned you.  Sex makes me sleepy.”

“Not me.”  I yawn.

“I’ll go get the bath ready.”

“Okay.”

“Scully, about tomorrow.”

“Heating pad, Advil, and you’ll get to learn how to use a tampon.  Wait, there was a short in the wire of my heating pad.  I had to throw it out.  We’ll think of something.”

“Yes, I can’t wait, it’s going to be great.”

I chuckle again, this time with my face pressed to the mattress and my eyes closed.

“But,” he says.  “What I mean is, what happens tomorrow?  Where do we go from here?”

“First we figure out how to get things back to normal.  And then...and then we’ll see.”

“Okay, I’ll go run the bath.”

“Okay.”

*****

I wake up with the sun on my cheek, a soreness in my thighs, and a twinge in my abdomen.  I pick my head up and turn it to the other side.  The bed is empty.

“Mulder?”  I sit up and look at my hands.  My hands.  I’m wearing a pair of flannel pajamas I don’t remember putting on.

I get out of bed and walk through my empty apartment.  Something feels off.  I feel like I’m in a dream or I’ve just woken from one.  And where is Mulder?  But, wait, why would Mulder be here?

I return to the bedroom and stare at my bed.  I can feel flashes of my dream or a memory bubbling up to the forefront of my mind, but they’re also not quite clear.  I’m making love with Mulder, but my body isn’t my own.  I am Mulder.  My cheeks flush.  How strange.

My thighs though.  They’re sore and ache in only the way my thighs will ache after a night of passion.  Why would I wake up with Mulder’s name on my lips?  I pick up the pillow next to mine.  It smells like him.  It smells like us.

I find my cell phone in my duffle bag by the front door.  I remember packing a bag to go to New Mexico with Mulder, but almost nothing after that.  I call his cell, pacing in front of my table as it rings.

“Mulder,” he answers.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

“Hey, Scully.”

“Mulder, were you…?”

“Was I what?”

How do I ask him if he was here last night?  How do I ask him if this blurry image of the two of us in my head is real?  And if it is, well why did he leave?  It can’t be real.  I’m just being ridiculous.

“Nevermind,” I say.  “I think I had a weird dream or something.”

“Hang on, Scully, someone’s at the door.”  I hear him open his door on the other end of the phone and a distant conversation.  “A bed?  I didn’t order a bed.”

I gasp and hang up.  I ordered the bed.  I remember.  Oh my god.

*****

An hour later, Mulder shows up at my door and I open it, but I don’t move back to let him in.  He sighs and leans his head against the jamb and then holds a gift bag out to me.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“It’s a heating pad.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Can I come in?”

I back up and let him through.  He’s wearing what I wore yesterday, what he must have picked up off my bedroom floor this morning before he walked out.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I want to know why you left.”

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.  “When I woke up this morning, I was a little disoriented.  I didn’t know where I was or what happened.  I thought at first that I might have been drugged - that we may have been drugged.”

“And then?”

“And then things started coming back to me in pieces.  It was like deja vu at first, but then I remembered the lights in the sky and you being me and...the rest of it.  And I remembered you telling me that you didn’t know what would happen after things were back to normal, and I was afraid that you would wake up and be embarrassed or regret what...or that you would shut me out and we’d never acknowledge it or speak of it again.”

“I’m sorry you felt that way.”

“I don’t remember everything.  There’s parts that are clear and parts that aren’t.  I do know that, for me, it was pretty incredible.”

“It was for me too.”

“Well, yeah.”  He grins.  “The only time I crash hard like that is when the sex is really good.  I mean, like really really good.  So…”

I feel my cheeks get hot and I look down at the gift bag in my hands.  Some men bring women flowers.  Mulder brings me a heating pad.

“You bought me a bed, huh?” he says.

I huff at my feet and nod slightly.  He shuffles closer, takes the bag out of my hands and puts it on the table.  I pluck at the blanket hanging off the back of the couch.

“Guess I was past due,” he says.  “There is one thing I think we need to settle though.”

“What’s that?”

He cups my face and leans down.  This time, I get to taste that bottom lip of his that I’ve always wanted.  It’s even better than I dreamed.

The End

[supernatural-jackles]

You’re My One

Title:  You’re My One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4,360

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Fluff, Alcohol Consumption.

Summary: You have been in love with Dean since you met him in the third grade, but you’ve always been too afraid to tell him. 

Anon Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could request a Dean x Reader one shot where they are best friends, and they like each other, and they like to play-fight/flirt a lot and it ends in fluff? Thank you so much!!!

A/N: This is for @ilostmyshoe-79 Sweet Emotions challenge. Mine was Anticipation. In this sense, it’s good and bad. Feedback is always appreciated! Happy Reading!!!

x

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Dean Winchester was a man of many things. He was a badass hunter who could take down any monster without doubting himself. He could eat a burger, fries and down a beer in five minutes flat. He could eat anything and not put on a single pound. Dean also happened to be your best friend and the sweetest guy you had ever met and you had met a lot of men in your lifetime.

 Dean Winchester is and always was the man you turned to. At eight years old, you met him in your grade three class. He started the school year halfway through. He walked in with a leather jacket on his shoulders and no backpack on his back. Even then, he walked in the room with confidence. He took a seat next to you on the carpet, not saying another word as he listened to the teacher speaking before the group. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to talk to the kid. You were a bit of a loner yourself. The weird girl as most kids refered to you as. You were quiet, and always wore your hair in a ponytail. You never understood why no one wanted to be your friend. Why no one wanted to be associated with you.

 When it was lunch time, you sat in the back corner by yourself, as usual. The rest of your class was laughing at something one of the other kids said. You always felt excluded when it came to lunchtime, and recess time only made it worse. That is when the new kid came and sat next to you.

 “Why are you sitting all by yourself?” he asked you. You shrugged, taking a small bite out of your sandwich. You felt his eyes on you and you didn’t dare look at him. He wasn’t going to want to be friends with a freak kid like you. He was going to be in the popular group by the end of the day.  “You don’t say much do you?”

 “I talk,” you replied, almost inaudibly. “Why aren’t you over there?”

 “Because I saw you over here,” he chuckled. “I’m Dean.”

 “Y/N.”

 “Nice to meet you.”

 “Where is your lunch?” you questioned.

 “I don’t have one today. My dad forgot to pack me something before he left this morning,” he told you.

 “You can have some of mine if you want. Take anything you want,” you pointed to your lunch box. Dean nodded his head, reaching for the other half of your sandwich.

 Instead of hanging out with the rest of the class at recess, Dean followed you outside to the swings. To say you were surprised was a vast understatement. He swung next to you for the entire recess, talking to you about little things like the leaves changing and the temperature getting colder. You weren’t used to someone talking to you for an extended period of time. Dean seemed to like talking to you and that was something you liked. And that soon became what you looked forward to everyday. You woke up in the morning and your first thought was Dean and getting to talk to Dean and hang out with Dean. Dean became your best friend.

 But one day, something flipped your world upside down.

 You were walking home from school one day with Dean and his younger brother Sam, something that happened everyday. Dean always walked you to your door and spent a couple of extra minutes talking to you before heading home with Sam. This day was no different. You walked in the front door of your house, calling out to your mom and dad but no answered yelled back. You walked in, heading straight to the kitchen, hoping to find them there.

 You heard the sounds of the coffee machine beeping to say the brew was finished. When you circled round the counter, stopping dead in your tracks. Blood. So much blood that all you could see was red. You let out a scream and ran as quickly as you could.

 You caught up to Sam and Dean in no time, tackling him down as you cried your eyes out. You couldn’t form words to describe what went wrong or what you saw. You couldn’t speak another word.

 And that’s how it was for six months.

 It turns out it was a rougarou that John Winchester was hunting in your town and it just so happened to be your friendly neighbor, Mr Fenway, who snacked on both of your parents before you got home from school that day. After that, John Winchester took you in and you joined the brothers on the road.

 For six months, you spoke to no one, not even Dean. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he talked to you, you said nothing. You responded to nothing. You couldn’t form words to even remotely say something to him. Were you happy that you ended up with the Winchester’s, of course you were. But it didn’t change the fact that your family was dead and you were scared.

 Six months after it happened, you woke up from a nasty nightmare and you couldn’t calm down to save your life. So instead of curling up in a ball, your feet hit the ground and you made your way across the room to Dean’s bed, crawling in with him. He woke almost instantly, wondering who had joined him. When he realized it was you, he hugged you tightly and never said another word.

 But you knew then, Dean Winchester would always be your best friend. He would always protect you from any harm.

   “Dean Winchester I swear to god if you stole my laptop to watch porn again, I am going to to kick your ass into- what are you doing?” You questioned as you made your way into the bunker’s library. Dean indeed did have you laptop sitting on the table in front of him. But much to your dismay, he was doing something completely different.

 “I am trying to see if any movies are playing so I can take that girl from the diner in town on a date,” he answered. You smiled weakly. If only it was you he wanted to take to the movies, you thought to yourself.

 “Oh really? Trying to replace me?” you played.

 “Yes, you’re a pain in the ass,” he joked. “Unless you want to go with me?”

 “I’d love to, really. But if you’re interested in that girl from the diner, go for it. I can survive one night without my trusty knight in shining armour. Besides, I have another Winchester brother to harass. I’m sure Sammy will love a little Y/N time, you know,” you winked, not wanting to ruin his night. You ruined a few of them already and you didn’t want to stand in the way of him getting a little action.

 “Great, so I’m going to have leave halfway through my date,” he teased.

 “Shut up, Dean. I’m not that annoying,” you frowned.

 “Yes you are. You’re going to drive that poor boy up the wall with your constant talking. Have you ever considered becoming a mime?”

 “You’re mean and I don’t like you anymore,” you stated, trying to keep as serious as possible.

 “You love me and you know it,” he chuckled. “I mean come on, you’ve pictured me naked more than once. You want me, you need me. You desperately crave my body on top of yours, pounding you into the-”

 “Would you stop!” You scolded, playfully slapping his arm. He let out a laugh.

 “Never,” he beamed.

 Your heart fluttered in your chest as your eyes met his. This man was something else and he knew it too. If only he knew the affect he really had on you. You had been tempted to tell him a thousand times, each time more than the last. But you could never do it. You could never tell him what you desperately wanted to tell him every time. You just couldn’t ruin that friendship. It was the first friendship you ever formed and you didn’t want it to end because you had fallen head over heels in love with him. “Alright, Bean, have fun tonight. I’ll torture your brother some.”

 “Thanks, sweetheart. See you later.”

 Dean took off for his date with the waitress from the diner, leaving you in the bunker with Sam. Sure over the years, you and Sam had bonded quite well. He was the brother you always wanted. You and Sam liked to go on runs together and you both had the same taste in tv shows, which is something you enjoyed doing together. Sam’s favourite thing to do was to tease you about your feelings towards his older brother.

 You grabbed a case of beer from the fridge, bringing it into the library where Sam had settled down for the evening. He was reading a lore book with a salad in front of him, chewing away at the lettuce as his eyes ghosted over the pages.

 “Sam Winchester!” you shouted, smiling widely.

 “Dear god! I thought you went out with Dean,” he chuckled with amusement.

 “Nope. Dean’s off banging some waitress,” you sighed. ���Nothing I can do about.”

 “Uh, you mean other than telling him you’re in love with him,” he let out a laugh. You rolled your eyes at his comment.

 “I need a drink.”

 Four beers later, you had an amazing buzz going on. Sam had the same amount to drink and he was still sober. Sam’s alcohol tolerance was extremely high. You on the other hand, were a light weight. That was one of the things the Winchester’s loved about you. Getting you drunk was always easy.

 “Y/N, I just don’t understand why you won’t take that chance and tell him how you feel? I mean, how long have you loved him? Since the day you met him? You guys would make such a cute couple,” Sam pointed out.

 “You know what, yes we would make such an adorable couple, Sammy. I mean, you are the only one that knows Dean as well as I do. What is a girl like her going to bring to him other than a one night stand. And what’s to bet he comes back and claims that she wasn’t even worth it?”

 “You sound jealous as hell, Y/N,” Sam let out a laugh.

 “I am!” you yelled. “I always tell myself, you know, just tell him. Just grow a pair and tell him that you love him. Tell him that he shouldn’t waste anymore time sleeping with girl after girl when he’s got one that loves him sitting in the backseat of his beloved impala. Why settle for someone who can’t even make him laugh? I want to tell him that there is no one out there better for him than me. And in my head, every single time, he’s smiling. That goofy one he does when he’s nervous and doesn’t know what to say. Then he’ll lean in just a little and the butterflies will start soaring in my stomach, and I’m just waiting to feel his lips on mine. And when I finally do, it feels like my whole world is pieced together. Because I’ll know that Dean Winchester is mine and that is all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “You know you always have a chance to do it. Just knock on his door, sit him down and tell him. You owe it to yourself to tell him. You have been living this life with us since the beginning and you have never, not once, complained about how much you wish you wanted to be normal. My brother has one girl and one girl only and that will always be you. Tell him. Trust me,” Sam nodded.

 “Well well, if it isn’t my brother and my best friend,” Dean’s voice called out. He stepped down the stairs, making his way over to you and Sam, taking a seat on top of the table. “Oh I see you’re getting ol’ lightweight drunk.”

 “Shut up! I’m not a lightweight!” you groaned.

 “Yes you are, sweetheart. Just admit it,” he chuckled.

 “What are you doing home so early?” you raised your eyebrow.

 “The girl was boring. She never said a word to me the entire time we were out. I wasn’t about to waste my night trying to grasp her attention when I never had it in the first place,” he shrugged.

 “Good. You deserve better,” you nodded your head proudly.

 “I wouldn’t go that far. But I certainly deserve someone who wants to spend time with me,” he added on. “So that’s why I’m here with you two nerds.”

 “Says the biggest nerd in the room. I’m sorry, is that the anime in your room calling?” you giggled.

 “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Dean got up off the table and made his way over to you. Your heart began to race in your chest, something that happened often when he grew closer to you. After all, he was Dean Winchester. He could have any woman in the world. There was no way he would want a girl like you. You nervously downed the rest of your beer, your head feeling a little fuzzy as the effects of the alcohol set in. You had to get out of the room before you said something stupid, or did something you’d regret in the morning.

 “Well boys. It’s been fun. But I happen to have a date with my bed tonight, and I’m already running late. I’ll see y’all in the morning,” you smiled softly, getting up off your chair. Without another word, you practically stumbled out of the room, heading down the hallway to your room.

 Somewhere along the way, you stumbled your way into Dean’s room. His bed was made the way it usually was, along with a couple of shirts he had probably tried on before he went out for the night. On his couch was a couple of lore books he was reading in the privacy of his own space. You loved the look of his room, and that was more than likely because you wished that this was your room too.

 “What are you doing in here?” he chuckled, sneaking in passed you.

 “Oh you know, just creeping,” you giggled.

 “How drunk are you?” he tried to repress his smile.

 “Drunk enough,” you said bluntly.

 “You want to sit in here for awhile, maybe fool around a little?” he winked playfully.

 “You’re disgusting you know that?”

 “Well aware of it,” he beamed as he leaped on his bed, his arms resting behind his head. You took a seat on the end of the bed, crossing your legs as you faced him.

 “Do you remember when we were fifteen and your dad dropped us off at Bobby’s for the weekend, and we snuck out to go explore around his scrapyard?” you started.

 “Yeah, and you fell off one of the cars and hit your head and I couldn’t tell Bobby because he would kill us both. I stayed up all night with you to make sure you didn’t fall asleep in case you had a concussion. You scared the hell out of me that night,” he smiled weakly.

 “I don’t know why I thought of it but when I think back on all the good times we’ve had together that one always comes up as number one. Not because I got hurt or anything like that. You and I spent the entire night talking about anything and everything and I knew that night that you were always going to be there for me. That you were always going to protect me,” you breathed out.

 “I am always going to protect you,” he stated, moving over to the end of the bed. “You must be really drunk to think about that moment.”

 You felt the butterflies grow in the pit of your stomach. You swallowed hard. You were going to do it. You were going to tell Dean Winchester how you felt about him. You were going to finally take that chance you had been waiting on. Sam was right, Dean only had one girl in his life and that girl was you.

 “I may be drunk, but I know what I’m talking about Dean. That night back then, I knew that there was only going to be one person I could ever want in my life and that person is you Dean. You have always been there for me, and you have always been my go to when I need someone and somewhere along the way, I guess I maybe, kinda sorta fell in love with you in that time,” you stammered out. You didn’t dare meet his eyes. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to see the look in his eyes.

 “Y/N, I-” he started but stopped.

 “Don’t say anything okay. I just had to tell you because even though I try to be the supportive friend when you go out with other girls, it’s hard to hold it in sometimes. I just wish it was me sometimes,” you confessed. All the alcohol in your system made you more confident that you’d ever be. You took a deep breath, your eyes daring to look up at his. You could see the confusion etched on his face. You reached your hand up, cupping his cheek. You leaned in softly, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. You felt your stomach doing flips as your heart fluttered in your chest, but it only lasted a second. Dean was not kissing you back.

 And that’s when you knew your feelings were completely one sided.

 You pulled away abruptly, casting your head down. This was not what you expected at all. Every time you thought he would tell you that he felt the same about you and he had waited long enough to tell you but he was just as scared as you were. But it never occurred to you that Dean protected you because he saw you as his sister.

 “I’m so sorry,” you stuttered. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have said anything. God, I am such an idiot.” Before anything else could be said, you got up off the bed, taking off like a gunshot, heading straight for your bedroom.

 You shut your door quietly as tears welled in your eyes. God, you were such an idiot. You just ruined the longest lasting friendship because you couldn’t keep your drunk mouth shut. Dean was going to hate you and now you were going to be lucky if he even spoke to you again. You brought this all on yourself. You only had yourself to blame for this mess.

 You crawled into your bed, pulling the comforter over your head as tears steadily made their way down your cheeks. This was all one big mess.

 You woke up the next morning to a pounding sensation in your head. Something you should be used to by now, but clearly you weren’t. The memories from the night before came back to you in an instant and your heart dropped in your chest. You were the idiot who told Dean that you loved him and he didn’t love you back, and now you were going to have to face him. You were going to have to deal with your consequences, even if that meant you had to leave the bunker for good.

 The sooner you faced it, the sooner you could move forward with what the next step was. Your heart ached in your chest as you kicked the comforter off the bed. Your feet hit the cold, hard concrete floor, causing you to flinch at the shock of it. The bunker was quiet as you made your way through the hallways. Sure you prayed that both of the boys were still asleep, but you knew you were pushing your luck.

 The second you stepped foot in the kitchen, there was Dean, standing by the stove with his back turned to you. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, and you desperately wanted to escape out of the room, or pray that the floor opened up and swallowed you whole. That definitely wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever.

 “Mornin’ sweetheart,” Dean smiled as he turned around. You swallowed hard, mustering up a weak smile as you took a seat at the table. It was time to face the music. “How’re you feeling?”

 “Like ass,” you responded. Your voice was raspy and void of all emotions.

 “I bet. Here, take two of these,” he said as he placed an orange bottle filled with pills in front of you. You didn’t protest, downing two with a the cup of coffee in front of you. You stared down at your thumbs, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering just what to say to the tall handsome man standing a few feet away from you.

 You stood up, taking slow steps towards Dean. Were you nervous? Hell yes. You were terrified that he was going to tell you to give him space and that you were never going to be able to talk to him again. “Listen Dean, about last night-”

 “You remember?” he questioned, turning around to face you.

 “Unfortunately yes,” you whispered. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in anyway and I’m sorry I kissed you. I wish I could take it all back, but I know I can’t. Can we maybe, just forget about it?” Tears welled in your eyes once more. Please don’t let this be the end of your friendship, you prayed.

 “And what if I don’t want to forget about it?” he questioned. You nodded your head as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

 “I’ll pack up my stuff and go. I’m really sorry, Dean. It wasn’t my intention to ruin our friendship. I was drunk and a little too honest and I should have just kept my thoughts to myself and it was stup-”

 You stopped in your tracks the second his hand reached under your chin, inching you to look up. When your eyes met his gorgeous green orbs, you saw just how soft his expression was towards you. His thumb traced over your chin as he flashed you that smile that made you weak in the knees. Your heart was stammering in your chest and your mouth went dry once more. He dipped down, growing closer and closer to your face before his lips were on yours.

 You grew weak in the knees at the feeling of his lips on yours. Every scenario, every daydream, every fantasy could never compare to what it felt like to finally have Dean Winchester kissing you. His lips were soft, subtle and careful. Inside, butterflies were soaring inside your stomach. Your swore if your heart could beat any faster it would pop out of your chest. You almost forgot to even respond to him. You were so worked up in how amazing it felt to finally kiss him.

 You opened your mouth, deepening the kiss as your hands made their way to his body, trying to bring him in closer to you, also needing something to hold you upright. It felt like a dream. Hell, it was you dream. It had been for a very long time and now it was happening. His tongue was now dancing with yours and you could taste the bacon he snacked on before you entered in the room. His hand grazed over your jaw, moving to cup your cheek and you practically melted into a puddle.

 You had to pull away. Your lungs were burning, and you desperately wanted to know if this was all real and not made up in your head. You had no knowing that you weren’t standing in front of him staring off into space, while he waited for you to say something else.

 When you opened your eyes once more, you found to breathtaking green ones staring back at you. You were speechless. “I don’t want to forget about what you said.”

 “Dean, but last night-”

 “Last night you were drunk and I wasn’t about to take advantage of you. I had to be sure that sober you felt the same way. I’ve wanted to tell you for as long as I can remember that I have feelings for you but I was so sure that you saw me as your best friend that could never amount to anything more. I mean I’ve had a crush on you since the first day I met you. I just didn’t think I stood a chance with a girl like you until you said that last night and then you kissed me and as much as I wanted to tell you the same. I wanted you to remember it all,” he whispered.

 “You do feel the same?” you practically gasped.

 “Of course I do, sweetheart. You’ve always been my one,” he chuckled. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to kiss you for.”

 “Oh believe me, I know. We’ve got a ton of time to make up for,” you beamed.

 “Let’s start right now,” he winked before dipping down, capturing your lips with his in a sweet, yet passionate kiss. Your hands made their way into his short, light brown hair as his snaked down to your waist, lifting you up onto the counter. You would never grow tired of this, not ever.

 “You know, I would usually be grossed out by this but it’s about fucking time you two got together that I’m not even going to stop you, this time only,” Sam interrupted. “But I swear to god, if I see or even remotely hear the two of you, I will kill both of you.”

 “Love you too, Sammy,” you giggled. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

 “Mmmh,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours. “Not as much as I love you.”

 “I take it back, I’m leaving for the day,” Sam groaned. “No sex in the kitchen!”

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[perkqularkreashions]

Love

// The One Where Y/N and Lip have sex//

//Part two of Gallagher's Good Girl//

//Part One//

Her mother’s voice rang through the house, it was loud and overbearing especially when she wanted to put a point across. This week’s argument involved Y/N’s involvement and time spent at the Gallagher’s house, her mother barely got to see her growing child. Y/N sat there and let her rant, letting all her heartfelt emotions pour out of her mouth.

“I don’t want you seeing that boy lip” she finally commands, Y/N head snaps up, her eyes staring at her mother. She shook her head softly trying to process the words that were coming out her mouth. “His whole family- if you can even call them that- is horrendous, you’ve been picking up terrible habits from them!”

“Mom-”

“No, I want what is best for you and that boy Lip is bad for you, he’s a distraction, a simple phase that your father and I let you play with for long enough” her voice holding great weight, her eyes tearing up at the thought of not seeing Phillip again, not feeling his warm hands wrapping around her cool body. Not smelling the stale scent of cigarettes on his body or the strong alcohol on his lips.

“Mom please” she tried begging but her mother held up hand, not wanting to her the please of her daughter.

“It’s for the best” her father commented, she stood up quickly, her eyes watching them.

“Mom I love him” she sobbed out finally, she scoffed at her ridiculous statement

“Love, what do you know about love? Please enlighten me on your take of love!” She laughed, Y/N knew it was sarcasm and decided to keep her mouth shut, she couldn’t disobey her parents no matter how wrong their opinion was.

Y/N has been avoiding Lip for a couple weeks, not returning any of his calls, ignoring his pleas at her door to open up. At school she’ll take a different route to class, completely avoiding his usual hand out spots. Her sudden disappearance from Lip’s life didn’t just affect him, it impacted Debbie whom continually curse at Lip for losing Y/N, not holding on tight enough. Carl missed having her around, all the pet names she’d call him brighten his day and she didn’t judge him when he told her his weird thoughts. Even Fiona missed the soft laughter and happiness she brought forth.

“Y/N!” Lip yelled, his eyes catching sight of her, she didn’t spare him a glance she kept walking ignoring his constant pleas. Finally his hand grabbed her bag, he swiftly yanked her back, with a soft thud she landed against him her body instantly relaxing into his embrace, God she missed it. “What the fuck Y/N, why have you been ignoring me”

She was now facing the Gallagher, “Phillip-”

“Don’t you fucking Phillip me! I’ve been worried sick wondering what I did wrong! I- just” he was now calm, he let his hand drop to his side, his face returning to its normal color. “Why have you been fucking ignoring me?”

“I want to break up” Y/N simply stated, her voice cold and harsh. Lip shook his head, his hand grasping her face forcing her to look at him

“No baby, you don’t want that! Just tell me how to fucking fix us and I’ll fix it! I fucking fix it” he cried out, she removed herself from his touch shaking her head softly

“There’s nothing you can fix” she mumbled lowly, trying her best not to break down it front of him. She adjusted her before walking away from him.

“But I love you” his voice whispered, she froze, she couldn’t help but let the tears run down her face. Sucking in a deep breath, she continued on.

Y/N sat on her bed flipping through the various magazines that lay sprawled on her bed. Her eyes scanning over the latest outfits and makeup trends. She gasped softly at the thump emitting from her window. A shadow laying flat across her floor. Slowly she got up, switching on the lights hoping the figure will disappear in the light. But it wasn’t a figment of her imagination it was Lip.

“Phillip!” She whispered harshly, her hand instantly running over his face and arms making sure he didn’t have in bruises on him. “What are you-”

“Y/N are you okay?” Her mother’s voice screamed

“Yes mom, just fell of my bed is all” she shouted back, her eyes staying on Lip.

“Phillip you need to go!” Y/N hissed trying to push him back out the window, he shook his head roughly moving past her. She watched him, analyzing his features, the redness of his eyes and how sunken in they appeared, his hair wasn’t in its usual disheveled stated but it was standing all over the place.

“I need to know I’m been trying wrap my head around it, I’ve been trying so fucking hard but I’m not understanding how you could just up and leave me! Debbie! Carl! Fuck even Vee and Kev has been asking about you, but you don’t fucking care do you?” Y/N looked away from him, she tugged on her bottom lip trying to fight the tears.

“You need to go Lip, please” she begged

“I just want to know why. Why?” He whispered, he moved his hand under chin forcing her to look at him. “I’ll know that this isn’t what you fuck want, for us to be apart” his lips slightly brushing over Y/N.

“Just tell me what you want” he whispers, Y/N grabs the sides of his face connecting their lips. Her body guiding them to the soften and comfort of her bed, her hands running through his hair. Lip’s hands resting on her waist running up her shirt feeling the soft of her skin against his fingertips, his hands cuffing her breast, she quickly broke away her breath against his chest as she watched his hands. Her eyes slowly flickered to his.

“If you want me to stop just tell me but know that I’ve been waiting for this moment when he walked in my house. I knew I fell in love with you, your infectious laugh-” he stopped, his lips falling to her neck before sucking on a sensitive spot she didn’t know she had. “To your hair, I loved the way you styled it, the way you stared at me but never said a word but I knew you felt the same way…” his hand slowly pushing off her shirt revealing her breast, his sucked on them gently, his tongue running over her lip before taking them lightly in his teeth. “To the way you say my name, you wouldn’t say Lip when we first start dating but I didn’t care. You were so innocent, pure, and mine”

“Just- make love to me Phillip” she moaned out, he smiled gently his lips resting on hers. His hand cuffing the side of her face before playing with the hem of her thin night pants, she shivered in delight, her breathing hitched when his lips kissed her pelvis. Lip’s hand pulling at her pants, she pressed her lips in a thin line, she slowly sat up, Lip’s naked form hovering over slightly. Y/N’s hand brushing down his chest before moving back to his neck. She flipped her around, her body positioned stiffly on top of his, Y/N’s hands placed on his chest while she fearfully looked at his enlarged cock.

“I’m not gonna hurt you Y/N, it’s will hurt yes but I promise you it will get better” she nodded slightly at Lip’s words. She sucked in a deep breath, she slowly grabbed his dick lining up him up to her entrance. She softly cried out when she encased herself around him. Her hand flew over lips, while she squeezed her watering eyes shut. Her body soon relaxed against him, she no longer felt a large foreign object inside of her but something pleasurable. Slowly she began bucking her hips, she couldn’t move any other pace in fear of hurting herself, she didn’t even know if she was doing it right. Y/N rested her forehead against Lip’s. His hand rested on her lips while he slowly moved in her.

“Phillip” she moaned softly against his parted lips, her hand caressing his cheek while his caressed her hips. She moaned softly when her ass met his hips. He moaned softly, he called out her name repeatedly. He gave a harsh thrust, she gave out a pleasurable gasp while throwing her head back. He promptly flipped her over, positioning himself deeper into Y/N. Lip watched Y/N her breast bounced back and forth, the way she gripped the covers tightly. He loved the way her body arched with each thrust he delivered.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered as he came, his thrust becoming harsh and sporadic. “I love you so fucking much” he cried out. Y/N moaned softly as she came, her arms wrapping around Lip’s body that was pressed against hers. “Please don’t leave me” he whispered out.

“I love you too Phillip” she breathed out, he rolled off of her, his eyes instantly connecting to her. She slowly moved on top of him letting her lips connect back to his, the kiss was slow and sensual, Lip wasn’t use to the neediness and comfort from a simple kiss, he needed more. No, he craved more, his hands gripping Y/N, bringing down on his member. She moaned loudly, her eyes tightly squeezing shut. She yelped out when he suddenly entered her, he brought down harshly, the smacking on their skin filled the air. “Phil-Phil-” she tried moaned out his name but was interrupted by his quick thrust in her.

He promptly slows down, his eyes watching over the moaning girl. “I don’t deserve you” he suddenly cries out, Y/N watches her eyes laced with confusion and solemn. “God, I’m such a fucking dick, how could someone like you possible love someone like me? Fuck tell me that! Why did fucking leave me?”

“Phillip-” her hand runs down Lip’s face, he shuts his eyes pressing his face against her cool lips “I- my mom she thought it’d be best if I had a better- that’s not important Phillip. I love you, my darling you are so special to me. No matter how many times you drop the f-bomb in a single sentence or how all your clothes smells like smoke. I freaking love you, you are so unconditionally kind even though your outlook life needs to change slightly, I still love how real you are, not afraid of telling me the truth. I freaking love you Phillip Gallagher”

Lip chuckled softly, his hand running up her body, he simple watched her for a moment taking in the beauty that was Y/N. “Are you leaving me?” He whispered, she shook her head softly, a small smile pressed on his lips, he pulled the naked girl down on top of him. Her head nuzzling into her chest, she gently kissed his neck “I love you” he repeats

[the-cowgirl-bookworm]

Chapter 1

Zoey is talking with her best friend Kayla by her locker when she notices a “dead guy”. This guy is apparently a Tracker, sent to mark teenagers as new vampires. We also get our first characteristic of Zoey when she complains about her “freakish inability to fit in”, despite the fact that her family lives comfortably and she is dating the star quarterback of the football team. Really not fitting in, huh? While seeing this guy close to her locker should make Zoey aware that she could be picked, all she does to talk to her friend Kayla about how her boyfriend went to a part without her and drinks a lot. The quote below shows how Zoey completely ignores how Heath, her boyfriend, is becoming an alcoholic and she is only concerned about how this affects her, i.e. his attractiveness.

"The point is that he was wasted for like the fifth time this week. I'm sorry, but I don't want to go out with a guy whose main focus in life has changed from trying to play college football to trying to chug a six-pack without puking. Not to mention the fact that he's going to get fat from all that beer." I had to pause to cough. I was feeling a little dizzy and forced myself to take slow, deep breaths when the coughing fit was over. Not that K-babble noticed. "Eww! Heath, fat! Not a visual I want." I managed to ignore another urge to cough. "And kissing him is like sucking on alcohol-soaked feet." K scrunched up her face. "Okay, sick. Too bad he's so hot."

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to try to hide my annoyance at her typical shallowness.

Zoey then reiterates how there is a dead guy by her locker, and that vampires in this world have crescent moon tattoos in the middle of their foreheads. He recites some poem, points at her, and she blacks out as she gets a crescent moon outline on her forehead, the mark of a fledgling, who could one day become a full vampire. Zoey wakes back up and finds Kayla freaking out like a reasonable person because someone she is close to basically just got handed a death sentence, as apparently the tattoo means that Zoey is going through the Change, which could kill her if she doesn’t get around full vampires immediately. You’d think the Tracker would hang around so that the fledglings actually had a chance to make it to the obligatory school. Zoey then gets mad at Kayla for getting emotional.

"Stop crying. You know I hate it when you cry." I reached out to attempt a comforting pat on her shoulders. And she automatically cringed, and moved away from me. I couldn't believe it. She actually cringed, like she was afraid of me. She must have seen the hurt in my eyes because she instantly started a string of breathless K- babble.

Yeah Zoey, your friend has an instinctual reaction to a stressful situation and you immediately start bitching. Not to mention that Zoey had already mentioned how people seem to have a backwards view of vampires, despite what we’ll see later.

"Oh, God, Zoey! What are you going to do? You can't go to that place. You can't be one of those things. This can't be happening! Who am I supposed to go to all of our football games with?" I noticed that all during her tirade she didn't once move any closer to me. I clamped down on the sick, hurt feeling inside that threatened to make me burst into tears. My eyes dried instantly. I was good at hiding tears. I should be; I'd had three years to get good at it.

Our first Mary Sue trait, our poor abused heroine who tries to be tough and not cry. Zoey then remarks about how she’s glad she got Marked inside because she didn’t want every one including her “Barbie-clone sister” to see her out by the buses. Zoey then gives us a big dump and makes it clear about why I hate her as a character.

There was only one other kid in the math hall--a tall thin dork with messed- up teeth, which I could, unfortunately, see too much of because he was standing there with his mouth flapping open staring at me like I'd just given birth to a litter of flying pigs. I coughed again, this time a really wet, disgusting cough. The dork made a squeaky little sound and scuttled down the hall to Mrs. Day's room clutching a flat board to his bony chest. Guess the chess club had changed its meeting time to Mondays after school. Do vampyres play chess? Were there vampyre dorks? How about Barbie-like vampyre cheerleaders? Did any vampyres play in the band? Were there vampyre Emos with their guy-wearing-girl's-pants weirdness and those awful bangs that cover half their faces? Or were they all those freaky Goth kids who didn't like to bathe much? Was I going to turn into a Goth kid? Or worse, an Emo? I didn't particularly like wearing black, at least not exclusively, and I wasn't feeling a sudden and unfortunate aversion to soap and water, nor did I have an obsessive desire to change my hairstyle and wear too much eyeliner.

Yeah, Zoey pretty much insults any group that she isn’t a part of. And it brings up how the Casts cannot seem to get past that fact that cliques are not in vogue anymore. When I was in high school, yeah you had some kids who sat together since they were in band or on the same team, but other people sat with them. It wasn’t clearly defined, and was malleable. What’s with the hate on the goths? Isn’t that one of your key demographics, the people who think Twilight isn’t dark enough for them? Zoey then sends Kayla way after her phone starts playing “Material Girl” as her ringtone, because why show her character when she can be accurately defined by a song title? Zoey angsts for a bit about how she has to go to “Vampire Finishing School”, which is the exact phrase that Cast’s agent used, and how all she wanted was to fit in at school since her home life sucks. Zoey decides to go to the bathroom and wait out the crowd outside, but stops to look through a window.

High-pitched girl giggles flitted to me from the parking lot. Great. Kathy Richter, the biggest ho in school, was pretending to smack Heath. Even from where I was standing it was obvious she thought hitting him was some kind of mating ritual. As usual, clueless Heath was just standing there grinning.

Thus begins the massive amounts of slut shaming in this book series. The Casts constantly promote this as some kind of feminist series, but anyone actually reading this can see that they are some of the biggest hypocrites I’ve ever seen. Kathy also gets no further descriptions and only appears for this one sentence. The Casts could have just had Kayla smiling at Heath and him smiling back and that would have worked better, planting some seeds of doubt about her friend, but no, we get a throw away character who solely exists to be slutty. Zoey doesn’t think about this, instead moving to the bathroom and talking about how she looks.

She had my eyes. They were the same hazel color that could never decide whether it wanted to be green or brown, but my eyes had never been that big and round. Or had they? She had my hair--long and straight and almost as dark as my grandma's had been before hers had begun to turn silver. The stranger had my high cheekbones, long, strong nose, and wide mouth--more features from my grandma and her Cherokee ancestors. But my face had never been that pale. I'd always been olive- ish, much darker skinned than anyone else in my family. But maybe it wasn't that my skin was suddenly so white...maybe it just looked pale in comparison to the dark blue outline of the crescent moon that was perfectly positioned in the middle of my forehead. Or maybe it was the horrid fluorescent lighting. I hoped it was the lighting. I stared at the exotic-looking tattoo. Mixed with my strong Cherokee features it seemed to brand me with a mark of wildness...as if I belonged to ancient times when the world was bigger...more barbaric. From this day on my life would never be the same. And for a moment--just an instant--I forgot about the horror of not belonging and felt a shocking burst of pleasure, while deep inside of me the blood of my grandmother's people rejoiced.

Yes, a character who is supposed to be part Native American just said that she looks more barbaric! How can a person’s mindset be so ass backwards that they write that? The other thing that bothers me is that Zoey says that she is the only person in her family with a darker complexion, despite the fact that her mother is half Cherokee. Even if Zoey’s grandma had a child with a white man, her child would have at least some Native American features. Not to mention the exotification and reducing Native American people to some kind of old fashioned magical people. Ugh, onto Chapter 2.

[ketterdamns]

a brief history

so anyway i’ve been doing a lot of work over the last year (hence why im kinda awol and maybe less positive than I used to be) and the biggest thing that has always come up is to stop retreating when I need to be honest about the things that have happened to me, when acknowledging the things in my life that have damaged me and also as an exercise to let trust my friends and others not to use this information to hurt me- the only power of these words in the hands of others is what I perceive them to have. if i give it away freely and own it it can no longer be used to hurt me, or at least, that is the general idea i might regret this. i might not. i just think i need to try because im so so so tired. 

Anyway, under the cut; csa, parental and spousal abuse, rape, trauma,drugs, addiction, basically all of the triggers. a slightly optimistic ending tho!!! 

Additionally; if you read this, please can you in some way acknowledge that u have, via text, whatsapp, dm, pm, messages, likes (no reblogs pls!!)  just so i can keep track of who knows what ty!!!!

its really hard to admit that ive never had a stable home life. never even had a stable home, from the moment i was in the womb my mum was running, away from my dad (who never let her go), from my dad’s mum- who wanted me dead for reasons my mum has never been able to divulge, from poverty and homelessness throughout my formative years. 

That’s when it started maybe, I was about 3-4/5 we ended up having to move in with my uncle (my dads brother) and his wife. it was an uncomfortable situation for all, we were a family of four intruding on newlyweds, but we were desperate and immigrants to a new country without qualifications for work or money to support us or even a job to hold down. My mum tried her best, but my brother was one and i was two years older. I ended up spending a lot of time with my uncle, who often “took me off of her hands” for afternoons. I don’t rly remember those afternoons, except that I would always play up beforehand, not wanting to go. At some point, my aunt caught on, and instead of talking to her husband, or throwing his pedo ass out, she took out her ??jealousy?? on me, and started pinching me so hard i bruised. she would blame me for my uncle’s behaviour. i was a “madame” pretending to be his “princess”, my mum caught her hitting me, and packed our bags immediately, despite my father not allowing us to leave. we had to stay in that house for another two months, and this is when my mum would never want to let me out of her sight again. And this is also the beginning of the pattern that my dad would allow these things to happen to me but I was just a baby. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what was happening or why they were. No-one spoke to me and I had no one else in my life at that time. 

We spent some really uncomfortable years in uncomfortable places, but honestly being homeless for that year, and then moving into council accommodation was sort of the least of my worries. I was eight years old the time I was sexually and emotionally abused by my other uncle (also my dad’s brother). It was my first trip back to our home country My grandma spent all her time telling me I was awful (it turns out... she’s a piece of shit) all because I refused to call her “Mum”, she wanted to kidnap me and my brother, and idk what else. but we scuppered her plans by not going along with it. It was a very toxic and scary environment, so when my Uncle would invite me into his next door flat, and treat me with kindness, I was overjoyed. Finally, another adult I could trust! My grandparents used to police food, and essentially only allowed me one meal a day. Back in the UK we were very poor, and rarely got to have sweets unless they were gifts from other people, so my uncle already had the perfect tool to entice me. That first summer, I ate sweets and let him pamper me, slowly giving him more and more affection like sitting on his lap etc, because it meant more sweets for me and my brother. he was my favourite person in the world and i was sure that he was the one person i could truly trust and talk to about anything. I used to dream of moving in with him and living peacefully, well fed, in a quiet cosy environment. The next summer, I was nine, and my dad had almost finished his uni, meaning we were expecting more money. I had my fill of sweets. He bought me toys instead. Slowly, his requests for affection turned into demands. Slowly, his affection turned into something twisted and horrible, something dirty. I once tried to raise the point to my grandma, that sometimes my uncle did things that scared me. she told me off for being a coward. I didn’t say anything. I was getting toys, my little brother was being fed, my mum finally had a friend in my dads side of the family in him. I knew enough about unstable homes that the slightest disagreement could lead to homelessness again and I didnt want that. Maybe my silence was my strength. 

This was confirmed when he raped me when I was 12. It is the last time I will ever see that side of the family. I was in shock the whole time, I didn’t know what to do. When we got home, back onto firm cold soil and the safety of our shitty one bedroom council flat in the roughest estate , I opened up to my dad that for years i’d been terrorised by my uncle and afraid of saying something. Dads were supposed to protect their little girls from big bad men, even if that man was their brother. 

All I got for my troubles was another man who began to hurt me. Outraged that I’d ever speak something so horrible my dad began to beat me. Constantly. And if my mum got involved? He’d beat her too. she didn’t even know what was happening, but there was a point she also went silent, and it was all on me to bear the pain I’d tried to share. The following summer, my uncle died in a freak accident When I heard the news I laughed because I couldn’t help myself, and getting hit for it was worth it for the news. I never had to see him again.  He died and I was free. Except my dad never quite forgot what I had said, and he never forgave me for it. 

Anyway by this point I was a teenager, we moved again and constantly over the years until we properly settled and actually bought a house and I had a strong group of friends who didn’t mind my weirdness and my lack of skills. My mum at this point couldnt bear that I was branching out from her bubble, and something snapped in her too, she started to search my room, stalk my friends, refuse to let me out. honestly.. no i dont blame her (even tho her behaviour hasnt changed and im 23, but at the time? it increased how trapped i felt)

I was a teenager and I had a best friend. She loved a boy named DJ who was 18. DJ used to stalk me, and I kept quiet because I knew she liked him and I knew speaking up would cause me more trouble. I could look after her, and myself. DJ assaulted me one night at a party. I shouldn’t have been there and I shouldn’t have been doing what I was doing. I was already experimenting with drinks and drugs because I was dead inside anyway. he hurt me and then told my best friend that i’d hooked up with him and hoodwinked him into getting with me because i wanted to hurt her. within days that story was around school. i was the easy kid who would sleep with anyone for the drama, and i was quiet. i was terrified news would get to my mum, or my little brother who was also starting at that school. but most of all i was terrified of telling my side of the story, and to be hurt more than i was hurting already. I unfriended them all, and even though DJ continued to stalk me i kept quiet. DJ sent me a necklace with a dove, explaining the significance was that the dove was my innocence or some other weird creepy crap. my mum found it in the bin where id tried to bury it under rubbish i told her a fraction of the truth, I was being harassed by a boy and I didn’t welcome his advances. I didn’t tell her it was already too late. The school of course told him to keep away, and he did for the most part, and one time he tried to corner me while I was skiving off of a class and there was no one around, I ran and went to tell a teacher. I got told to “grow up” and sometimes “we have to get along with people we dont like”. I was the villain in their eyes. I swore  I would do everything in my power to get out of this school, go to the grammar in a new city where my reputation . DJ was arrested this year for online grooming an d sharing child pornography, and it honestly breaks my heart that its been going on for so long. maybe i should have said more, but who to? 

My time at school wasn’t all bad. And i had my first real positive experience with an older man. My english teacher once caught me unawares and I had a panic attack at being alone with a man-- he was gentle and kind, and worked with me to get to where i wanted to be grades-wise. he let me borrow his books and told me stories about his own son and i understood what real love meant, and it broke me that i’d never experienced it. 

My brother had grown so big now, and threatened my dad. if he ever lay another finger on one of us under our roof, my brother would kill him. my brother spent his childhood learning to fight, he’s in the runnings for the Olympics. My dad recognised the threat was real. And never hit me when my brother was home. However, when my brother wasn’t home... that was another story. my silence then was another kind of strength. I couldnt tell him the truth, because if he followed through on this threat, his life would be over. My dad got more sneaky, he would avoid my face, he’d grab my ankle and twist it so tight that it’s now forever fucked up. 

Despite all my fucked-up ness I did make it to grammar school, despite my parents not wanting me to go there. And im so glad i did. I finally had two years with minimal assault. My dad hurt me sometimes? The first night after my induction class because summer break, my dad took my prized hockey stick- one I’d worked long days to afford, and smashed it on my leg. I had to get crutches and didn’t leave my house for most of the summer, because I didn’t want to explain what happened. I couldn’t play my sport ever again properly. I lied to my friends and told them i was in my home country for the summer. i legit did not leave my house unless it was for doctors appts. 

 occasional nights he would be tired of me doing nothing but homework or making projects, or being loud. Alternately, he’d hate it when suddenly i became withdrawn and uncommunicative. when i physically couldn’t move etc. anyway turns out these were symptoms of my MI which wouldn’t be diagnosed for a long while, despite trying to find what was wrong with me from this point onwards.  but!!! for the most part! it was great! my school was in another city! i had freedom for a couple hours every day to do what i wanted! i made friends who embraced my weirdness! i had no reputation and i had my very own laptop finally so i could finally have some privacy!

too much privacy, i refused to give my mum my laptop password. hearing this, my dad threw my laptop down the stairs. 

i used what little money i had from part time jobs to fix it, but its something im resentful of to this day. my mum, in her eagerness to protect me, just let him hurt me again. 

anyway blah blah blah i moved to london and it was amazing i ran away i was free everything was going to change and i was finally going to be the person i always knew i was destined to be! chic and cosmopolitan and cool and confident and most importantly, safe, and comfortable, and in control. And I was. and then three weeks before halloween it happened again. i’d been away from home for two months now, and i’d started dabbling in harder drugs than weed, but that night i was not high. i was not in withdrawal. i was only drunk. i got raped again. this time, i did report it, but only because my housemates knew it had happened. i got rushed to A&E where they are legally required to call the police. the police took me to their HQ and i was interviewed. they arrested him. none of this was my choice, and my lack of silence led to a lack of control. I know ive been detailed already, but i wont go into detail about the rape kits they have and the questions i got asked and the journalists who dogged me and the nosy gossips who wanted to know the juicy deets. I don’t want to go into detail about how i realised I was a victim and was always going to be a victim, and i cant go into detail about the most recent abuses, not yet. All I know is i once thought i was in love with a boy called ‘T’, and what he did to me was worse because he made me believe this was all I could get and that I had to settle. He made me believe that him getting off on my trauma was love, instead of him picturing me as a child repeatedly brutalised by my male relatives. The moment I came to my senses and he was gone, I realised I was alone again. I failed my second year of uni, because the day before my final exam, my rapists wife found my house in london, idk how. She and her child begged me to help her husband’s appeal. I sympathised with her, she was a non-native with broken english looking after her kid. She reminded me of my mum. I told her for her chid’s sake and for her sake, I couldn’t. She cursed me and nothing has been the same since. actually, the lovely people of tumblr helped me raise the funds to complete summer school and carry on with my life. i now hold a masters degree. i remember each and every one of u who donated or signal boosted. i also remember my choice to keep his wife out of it, and not mention her. silence was golden. 

This year my rapist  was deported after raping another person when he was released for good behaviour. 

anyway. despite all of this magnitude of shit that has happened to me. despite my numerous addictions that im still working thru (im sorry if u knew me when i was nothing but a junkie. at 19/20 I was not a good person and anything I said that was thoughtful or provocative came from a bad place. I gave bad advice and abused my medication alongside brown and alcohol. My manic episodes got worse than I’ve ever experienced and usually led to me some very dark very scary places. I’m mostly better now but the last year has Been A Lot. I tried to kill myself twice. Once, I was saved by police, which is... embarrassing and I lied my ass off (and brandished the fact i was a MASTERS STUDENT OF LAW and they had entirely the wrong end of the stick) and another time, i was saved by chance. I am making so much progress tho. I’m proud of me. I’ve become more independent. I’m not afraid to speak out when I’m dissatisfied now. I know strength comes from knowing what you want and what you don’t want, not settling for the worst because unknown reactions in my imagination are worse than whatever reality has in store. 

im graduating from my masters next week. i feel as tho ive lost a lot of friends and people i cared about- all i can say is im sorry. i’m trying. but if i fuck up, its on me. if i speak too loudly and it hurts you, please tell me. if i dropped away, its because i had to work on me, and im sorry, and im ready to come back, if you’ll have me.  I’m really excited about the future, but im scared too. the last three months have been so hard and every day i feel like giving up again, but I won’t. there has to be a reason i survived all this, and im yet to find it, but i hope i will. im still going thru shit. my dad is still the worst. but i have a really lovely partner who is so so so patient with me- more than i deserve, im in touch with a doctor and a sleep therapist, my brother is looking out for me and im getting in touch with old friends, and im making new ones all the time. thank you for sticking by me, and sorry for the long read. i just had to get it out there you know? its my truth and the silence was killing more than anything else in this stupid story is. ive left lots of details out, but parts of my story interlink with others and other parts im still holding onto, i cant share everything online i think thats enough oversharing for a long long time.