#times like this it feels like I’ll never fully be rid of you or able to cut these feelings out of my chest

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[izukuszn]

“Hey,” Satoru breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, soft white hair tickling your skin. 

“Hmm.” you hum, running your fingers through his soft locks, your other hand rubbing along his back, feeling the smooth material of his cotton shirt, lingering on the muscles you can feel under it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even more into his lap so that your chests are as close as they could be, your bodies melded together. You feel his nose press into you and the rise and fall of his body as he releases a breath when you place a delicate kiss on his shoulder. 

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” 

“Satoru…” you do your half-awkward laugh, half-breathing out thing that you always do whenever someone compliments you, now burying your own face into his neck as heat crawls up your skin. 

“You are. You truly are,” he says, pulling away from you and holding you by your waist, looking straight into your eyes with that unwavering gaze that never fails to let you know he’s being genuine. You take him in as his silver eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, framing his azure eyes that are intensely staring back at you. His glasses are always off around you. He claims that he wants to fully see you as best as he can. 

Awkwardly smiling, you hold eye contact for a few seconds before nervously glancing away from his eyes. At times like this you can’t help but wonder, how does he see you as that? As beautiful. Doesn’t he know that he’s the beautiful one? That he’s the one that makes you stop in place multiple times a day just to think, wow. It's hard to believe him sometimes, when he says things like this. He says it so freely too, with no hesitation, no reluctance, simply opening his heart for you to look inside and do whatever you want with it. It makes you grateful that he chose you, of all people. It makes you scared, because what will you do when it's over? When it doesn't last? 

“We all know you’re the beautiful one, Satoru,” you respond, looking over his shoulder. When you’re met with silence, you glance back at him only to see his eyebrows furrowed, a pout on his lips, and without thinking you smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, smiling softly when he only pouts even more like a petulant child. 

He cups your face with his large hand, frown softening but still there when your eyes flutter and you rub your cheek into him. “Why do you always do that? Why don’t you ever believe me?” 

You keep your eyes closed. “You know why, Satoru…” You bring your front to his again, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as if he might disappear from under your fingers. 

“I’m yours forever, you know? There’s no getting rid of me. No matter how hard you try. You’re stuck with me, baby.”

“So you’ve said.” You hate when you’re not able to respond with the same thing, hate the hurt he tries to mask but fails around you when you don’t tell him how you truly feel, but you know he knows. You just need to work up the nerve to let it out.

He lets you avoid, Satoru can never deny you. Instead, you breathe him in, inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne and detergent, and he rubs soft shapes into your back, deft fingers bringing you to the edges of sleep. It's like this for a few minutes, the soft sounds of your breaths the only thing you can hear on the couch, but then he speaks again. 

“I’ll make sure to keep telling you until you believe me.” 

You sigh, “Will you now?”

You feel the jerk of his head against your neck as he nods, determined, and you smile to yourself. You can’t ever let him go. 

“I will, every single day.” You don’t mention that he already does. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, love. It kills me. I love it.”

You laugh, and he pulls away again to see the action, eyes crinkling with his own smile, dimples forming in his cheeks as his eyes sweep over your face.  

“Alright, Sa- Oh!” You’re cut off when he lifts you up with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist and strolling over to the bedroom. “Satoru!” 

He winks at you, patting your ass. “I know a few other ways I can show you that I think you’re beautiful.” 

[satormi]

— JJK MEN WHEN YOU CAN’T SLEEP !

a/n: reupload from my old blog. jeehjajs i need them so badly.

NANAMI knows you’re not asleep. if there’s one thing you know most about nanami, it’s how light of a sleeper he is. that’s why, even though you’re struggling to fall asleep, you try not to twist and turn around the sheets, though that fails. it’s only when you hear him clear his throat (even though he did it on purpose just to let you know that he was awake), you decide to gently tap his shoulder. he responds immediately, shifting to his side so he can face you. “yes, baby? what’s up?” he asks, raspy voice and all. although it’s 2 am, you can perfectly make out nanami’s beautiful face with the help of the moon light, via the sheer curtains in the room. you find yourself getting lost in his beauty and it’s not until he gently grabs your hands and intertwines it with his that you finally get the courage, (or at least attempt to), speak to him about your restlessness. but he understands – he always does. “i’m not feeling that tired either,” he winks, “let me make us some tea and talk.” you want to tell him that you know he’s completely exhausted, but he’s already pushing the both of you out of bed and to the kitchen. you figured that he may not mind staying up for a bit more.

it’s not until you tap TOJI’s shoulder for the fifth time that he blinks and slowly comes to his senses. poor guy, he can hear your mumbles but he isn’t fully able to process what’s going on because of how drowsy he is. at this point, you’re staring at him with teary eyes and all toji can do is deadpan, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. “i told ya not to read the ending of that book this late y’know. if ya read it earlier, y’could’ve had more time to recover. ” he grunts. you sniff once and nod your head and all toji can do is roll his eyes as he brings you into a tight embrace. he can act irritated all he wants, but he finds it so entertaining that the book he recommended you to read really took this much of a toll on you. he read it on a business trip and thought you’d really enjoy it. boy was he wrong. “they didn’t end up being together, toji.” you wail, arms wrapping around his torso even tighter. “i know, baby. i know.” he sighs, planting a kiss on your forehead when you sniffle again. “toji, we can never break up. if i couldn’t handle the book’s break up, i won’t handle ours.” and he only chuckles, because honestly, why is this book putting thoughts like these in your head? it’s fiction, toji thinks, but then again, it’s you we’re talking about. “ya can’t get rid of me, ‘m in it for the long run, babe.”

if you can’t go to sleep, SATORU will definitely try to help or (for lack of better words) force you to go to sleep. when he feels you shuffling around, he’ll grunt before placing his body on top of yours, hugging you tightly before mumbling “sleep” in your hair. “i’ll try if you get off of me. you’re crushing me to death!” you say and he contemplates for a few seconds, but ultimately decides that you’re a really comfortable body pillow. from how he’s laying, he can feel your heart beating and your soft, steady breaths and it makes him wonder why he never thought of using you as a mattress before. “promise?” even though you nod your head, satoru can feel your smile on his collarbone which easily gives away that you’re not telling the truth. regardless, satoru still rolls off to the side and stares at the ceiling with you. “what’s bothering you,” he almost whispers, it’s soft and genuine and that alone is enough to make your heart throb at 2 am. it’s also really funny seeing his concerned look right now because he doesn’t know he’s overanalyzing the whole situation. you see, you didn’t eat dinner tonight. satoru ordered you takeout on his way home because he assumed you’d be hungry, but you weren’t, so you let him have yours.what you failed to realize though, is how hungry you’d be and now you’re facing the consequences. you finally sigh and turn your body so you’re face to face with him on the bed. “‘toru,” you bite back the laugh that wants to come out because of how serious satoru looks right now. you figured that you should tell him straight up to ease his mind of any possible negative thoughts he could be thinking. “i’m really hungry.” and gojo sighs, (you can’t tell if it’s of relief or disappointment so you choose the latter), and props his head up so his elbows are supporting him. “i am too.” “you ate your takeout and mine.” you mirror satoru’s actions, propping your elbow to get a better look at his face and he blinks at you twice. you can’t tell if he’s lying or not. “do you want food or not?” with that, you roll off the bed before stating, “i’ll get the car keys!”

[selfindulgentpixies]

Learn to play the game for me

Aventurine x GN!reader Hunger games!AU

Wrote this for @decaydaddy's event! The idea of Aventurine being a previous victor and mentor for the hunger games hit me like a truck. It just fits him really well I feel like. I can't say i'll write more for this just because I can't say i'm fully back on the writing horse yet. I was just really taken by this idea because i really enjoyed the hunger games back when i read it. Even if i only read the first two books. It'll be clear that certain scenes really stuck in my head.

header is official promo art and divider credit goes to @kaeyaphile

A sharp rip echo’s through the room before a string of curses fall from your lips. “Fuckin mother fucki’- the hell did you you warn me first?! Why do I need this done exactly?!”

“Ah ah, language, if you’re going to get sponsors we need to play up that pretty and polite image, no one’s going to want to sponsor you if you don’t.” Your mentor chides as the stylist disposes of the first paper and wax strip now coated in hair, hair that you really didn’t think there was a point in getting rid of.

You glare at your mentor, pretty as a picture as he always is. He’d even been pretty when you were young children, even if he’d lacked the flamboyantcy and refinement he now carries himself with back then. You try to ignore it as more warm wax is painted onto your leg and keep your focus on Aventurine. “And you think a few sponsors will be enough for me to survive this thing? I’ll probably end up dead, and then i’ll just leave behind a ‘pretty’ and hairless corpse.” 

Something shifts in Aventurine's eyes and he leans close to you. “You can survive this, you just need to learn how to play their game. Just like I did. Are you really ready to just give up and let yourself be chewed up and spit out?” 

Something stutters in your chest both at the intensity of his gaze and at his close proximity. Rrrriiiip- the wax strip being pulled from your skin cuts off anything you could have said, though to your credit you don’t swear this time and just let out a surprised choked sound. 

Aventurine steps back from you, the expensive heels of his shoes clicking on the hard floor as he turns away. “I’ll leave you to get finished being cleaned up.” He gives a little wave of his hand and walks away. 

___

You stand before the full length mirror, staring at yourself draped in expensive fabric you would never have  been able to imagine yourself in before. Soon you’d be sitting on a stage, selling yourself, selling the idea of you, to the sponsors who could tip the balance for you once the games begin. No. The games have already begun. Aventurine stressed that point to you, that the game began the second you were chosen as a tribute. Everything you did leading up to the fighting was just as important if not more so. You swallow thickly, your thoughts race, you weren’t cut out for this but who was? Maybe those brats in the more well to do districts. Not you though. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing in check.

Suddenly there are hands on your arms, squeezing lightly. Your eyes snap open, only to be met with your mentor’s in the mirror. Finally alone with him you can see concern there. “That’s right, come back to me, just breathe.” 

His words make your heart stutter but you do as he says, he breathes deeply and you mimic the action. Time stretches on forever with you mimicking his breathing until he seems satisfied. “There you are,” there’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. His hands smooth over the fabric he’d wrinkled while gripping your arms. “I know none of this is fair, but I’ll do everything I can to give you every advantage I can in order to even the odds.” His voice is serious, quiet, you might not even be able to hear him if not for how his lips are pressed to your ear.

“Aven…” before you can fully say his name he continues. 

“All I ask is that you fight like hell. Both on stage and in the arena. Don’t throw the game because you’re scared.” His eyes are intense, so much so that you try to glance away from his reflection in the mirror only for him to turn you toward him. 

He holds your gaze until you give him a firm nod. “Good.” He rests his forehead against yours for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat, your heart racing for an entirely new reason by the time he pulls away and steps back from you. Suddenly your hands shoot out to grab at his arms startling you both. 

“I-i..” A deep breath. “How… Did you manage it? You were a lot younger than I am now when you won.” Despite being your mentor Aventurine has actually spoken very little about his own games. He’s dodged most direct questions both by you and the other tribute.

“I got lucky.” He lets out a dry chuckle when your face contorts. 

“That’s a terrible answer and doesn’t help me.” 

“Ah ah but is it not in line with what they say about these games? ‘May the odds be ever in your favor.’?”  there’s a hint of something pained in his voice. 

“Aventurine, please, is that really all you’re going to tell me…?” 

He removes your hands from his arms before reaching up to cup your face. You feel the warmth of his hands seep through his gloves to your skin contrasted harshly against the cool metal of his rings. “Tell you what, you win and then i’ll tell you everything.”

“But-”

“That doesn’t help you win? Consider it a little extra motivation.” 

Before you can protest he steps away from you and turns to head toward the door with a little wave. “It’s almost time for your interview~” With his back to you can’t see that sadness in his expression. He’s not ready to talk about her with you yet, his older sister who’d given her all and made it possible for him to be standing here now. He can’t share that pain with someone who could be dead tomorrow. 

—

Very few could ever claim to know what’s going on in Aventurine’s head, and you certainly don’t count yourself among them. So when your interview concludes and you’re just barely off stage and he takes your hand, mouthing the words ‘trust me’ then without a moment for you to process he pulls you to him, his lips crashing with yours. Your sound of surprise is swallowed up by him as he deepens the kiss, your hands flying up to grip the fabric of his expensive jacket. You almost don’t register the gasps and murmurs of the crowd. You may not see it but this moment with your mentor is broadcasted on the large screens as he walks you back a step further into view. The way he kisses you and his tender embrace plain for everyone to see. 

Everything feels like whirlwind from there, granted everything since being chosen as tribute has felt that way, but this? The news of you apparently having a love affair with your mentor is everywhere. Headlines of how a pair of lovers are being forced apart and how one must watch the person he loves endure the same trials he once had to survive are abuzz. “Was that seriously necessary?!” Your face is heated and you can’t decide if you feel more embarrassed or angry as you stare at Aventurine perched on the love seat in your temporary accommodations. Shameless with legs spread and a knowing smirk on his lips. 

“It makes for a good story. Everyone loves a tragic love story.” He gives a small shrug. 

“Why didn’t you ask me first!?”

He raises one elegant brow. “Would you have agreed?”

“No!?” 

“And that’s why i didn’t ask. This is another way i can help you and make you more appealing to the audience. Besides… You didn’t seem to mind while I was kissing you.”

“That’s-!” Your stomach twists and you feel your face heat further if possible. 

He puts his hands on his knees before standing and walking toward you, when he’s about to pass you he speaks again, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “If it helps, I meant it. The kiss, I mean.” 

Your world slows. “You- you don’t get to just say things like that and walk away!” You follow hot on his heels as he begins to head for the door. You grab at his expensive jacket once again, the poor fabric seemingly doomed to your abuse, and turn Aventurine to face you. His expression surprises you, all traces of smugness gone. You swallow thickly. “You can’t play games with my feelings at a time like this…” Your fire seems to fizzle out further with each moment you look at him. 

“I’m not… I wouldn’t be putting so much work into giving you the best chance possible if I was.” 

“But… why now? After all this time.. After you were in the games when we were little I never heard from you again and suddenly now that you’re my mentor you’re telling me what? That you lo-” a deep breath. 

“And if I am?” 

“I don’t know… But i have missed you.” 

“That’s why you wanted me as your mentor isn’t it? I know you asked for me specifically.” 

“Is it why you accepted?” 

You meet eachother eyes and suddenly share a small moment of quiet laughter. 

“You’re impossible, you know that right? And don’t think I’m not still mad at you.”

“Win the games and I’ll make it up to you.” And he sounds so sure when he says it that a small part of you believes you could win, if not for yourself perhaps for him. Perhaps for the two of you.

The next day, standing on the platform waiting for it to rise to the arena you feel your resolve solidify. He stands in front of you and rests his forehead against yours. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” spoken for you only before he steps back, allowing the platform to rise to take you to the surface, away from him and he hopes it’s not for the last time. By the resolve in your eyes as you get further and further from him he can believe you have a chance, and that’s all you need to win a game like this.

I hope you guys liked it! Aventurine has taken over my brain lately. I've actually written a couple other things but I just haven't polished them. This idea forced me to sit down and write it.

Tag list: @scarabrat-archived @pastelle-rabbit @fushigurro @zorosdimples @bad-as-the-boys @likelilacwine @kweenkatsuki-fics

[treasuringizu]

⤷ gojo x reader | 0.7k words |

⤷ tags | insecure reader, very self-insert, suggestive content at the very end, established relationship, not proofread, satoru loves u, u love satoru, he's a sap!! satoru carries you up at the end.

“Hey,” Satoru breathes, nuzzling his face into your neck, soft white hair tickling your skin. 

“Hmm.” you hum, running your fingers through his soft locks, your other hand rubbing along his back, feeling the smooth material of his cotton shirt, lingering on the muscles you can feel under it. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even more into his lap so that your chests are as close as they could be, your bodies melded together. You feel his nose press into you and the rise and fall of his body as he releases a breath when you place a delicate kiss on his shoulder. 

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” 

“Satoru…” you do your half-awkward laugh, half breathing out thing that you always do whenever someone compliments you, now burying your own face into his neck as heat crawls up your skin. 

“You are. You truly are,” he says, pulling away from you and holding you by your waist, looking straight into your eyes with that unwavering gaze that never fails to let you know he’s being genuine. You take him in as his silver eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones, framing his azure eyes that are intensely staring back at you. His glasses are always off around you. He claims he wants to fully see you as best as he can. 

Awkwardly smiling, you hold eye contact for a few seconds before nervously glancing away from his eyes. At times like this you can’t help but wonder, how does he see you as that? As beautiful. Doesn’t he know that he’s the beautiful one? That he’s the one that makes you stop in place multiple times a day just to think, wow. It's hard to believe him sometimes, when he says things like this. He says it so freely too, with no hesitation, no reluctance, simply opening his heart for you to look inside and do whatever you want with it. It makes you grateful that he chose you, of all people. It makes you scared, because what will you do when it's over? When it doesn't last? 

“We all know you’re the beautiful one, Satoru,” you respond, looking over his shoulder. When you’re met with silence, you glance back at him only to see his eyebrows furrowed, a pout on his lips, and without thinking you smooth your thumb over his bottom lip, smiling softly when he only pouts even more like a petulant child. 

He cups your face with his large hand, frown softening but still there when your eyes flutter and you rub your cheek into him. “Why do you always do that? Why don’t you ever believe me?” 

You keep your eyes closed. “You know why, Satoru…” You bring your front to his again, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as if he might disappear from under your fingers. 

“I’m yours forever, you know? There’s no getting rid of me. No matter how hard you try. You’re stuck with me, baby.”

“So you’ve said.” You hate when you’re not able to respond with the same thing, hate the hurt he tries to mask but fails around you when you don’t tell him how you truly feel, but you know he knows. You just need to work up the nerve to let it out.

He lets you avoid, Satoru can never deny you. Instead, you breathe him in, inhaling the comforting smell of his cologne and detergent, and he rubs soft shapes into your back, deft fingers bringing you to the edges of sleep. It's like this for a few minutes, the soft sounds of your breaths the only thing you can hear on the couch, but then he speaks again. 

“I’ll make sure to keep telling you until you believe me.” 

You sigh, “Will you now?”

You feel the jerk of his head against your neck as he nods, determined, and you smile to yourself. You can’t ever let him go. 

“I will, every single day.” You don’t mention that he already does. “You’re so incredibly beautiful, love. It kills me. I love it.”

You laugh, and he pulls away again to see the action, eyes crinkling with his own smile, dimples forming in his cheeks as his eyes sweep over your face.  

“Alright, Sa- Oh!” You’re cut off when he lifts you up with one arm, wrapping your legs around his waist and strolling over to the bedroom. “Satoru!” 

He winks at you, patting your ass. “I know a few other ways I can show you I think you’re beautiful.” 

[thezombieprostitute]

Constant Change

Summary: You and Nick must navigate the new territories of pregnancy and parenting while managing the continued hostility from Clark Kent.

A/N: Reader is AFAB. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 2

You’re finally home for the day and you’re still in daze after the phone call from the doctor. Everything feels surreal as you unlock the door. The surrealness isn’t helped by seeing Nick on one knee in the living room, holding a ring box. 

You freeze at the sight and he shyly rubs the back of his neck, “I know it’s kinda quick but I also know you’re the one. If you’ll have me.” He looks back at you with those puppy dog eyes you can never say no to.

All you can say is, “I’m pregnant.” Nick’s eyes go wide and he’s immediately on his feet and moving to hold you. You practically collapse into his arms and he sits you down on the couch with him. 

“The doctor appointment,” he asks. “To see why you’ve been sick?”

“Yup,” you quietly reply. 

“I, uh, I guess we weren’t being as safe as we thought.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

Nick kisses you, “it’s not your fault. It takes two to make this kind of thing happen.”

“You’re a lot more calm about this than I expected,” you admit. “I…part of me was scared you’d be angry and want to leave me.”

“Not a chance,” he affirms. “I can understand why it didn’t register but I was just down on one knee asking you to marry me. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You were proposing on the idea that we weren’t having a kid, Nick.”

“So you want to keep it?”

“I’m…” you hesitate. It’s something you long ago gave up any hope on. Another way you disappointed your parents. You’ve been so mentally ready to never have a child that this has entirely shaken your worldview. “I don’t know,” you confess.

“You don’t have to decide today,” Nick reassures. He gently moves your chin, making you look into his eyes. “Whatever you choose, I’m with you.”

“Do you want a kid?”

“I’ll admit, it’s something I thought was never going to happen for me,” he says. “But it’s not me who’s going to have to carry the baby. I’m not the one whose body is going to have to take everything.”

“Yeah, pregnancy ain’t a fairytale like they portray in the stories.”

“Which is why it’s your decision, that I will fully support, when you make it.”

“I have to ask, are you still interested in getting married?”

“Of course.”

You scan Nick’s face, looking for any of the telltale signs of hesitancy but you don’t find them. 

“Then let me make sure that ring fits,” you ask with a smile. 

“Nick,” you moan as his fingers expertly play with your nipples and his lips leave marks along your neck. “Nick, we should get some breakfast.”

“Can’t let you go this morning,” Nick states. “I’ll just have to have you for breakfast.”

While you haven’t been together long you’ve learned that when he gets in a mood he needs to follow through. The few times you’ve turned down his advances he acquiesced but it made him all the more needy when he did get you in bed. Those were the times you couldn’t walk the next day because of how thoroughly he’d fucked you silly.

“You didn’t get enough last night?”

“Can never get enough of you,” he growls. He almost seemed insulted at the very idea. “You look so good with that ring on. How could I possibly get enough?”

“Lucky you I don’t have to go into work today,” you smile. He gently pinches your nipples, making you moan. “Lucky me, as well.”

He chuckles at that as he kisses his way down your front, leaving marks where no one else will be able to see them. You try to use your hands to move him where you need him but he stops and glares at you. “Hands on the headboard,” he orders.

“Or else what,” you snicker.

“Or else I show you some of the immobilization techniques I learned in the CIA.”

You raise an eyebrow but decide not to test him. Not this early in the morning anyways. You put your hands above you, leaning your arms against the headboard and he smirks. You really enjoy giving him control in the bedroom and he loves that you trust him enough to do so. He’s very open to rewarding you for obeying his request and he shows it by finally kissing his way to your needy pussy.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who didn’t get enough last night,” he gently snarks as he sticks a finger into your already wet core. Without thinking you spread your legs wider, a silent plea for more.

Nick spends the next hour hitting all of your favorite spots, his eyes dark as he watches you fall apart, first on his fingers, then his cock.

Early on you told him your concerns about him not getting as much out of sex as you. He assured you that “your pleasure is mine, Lady. Every time I can make you come, make you call out my name, or whimper for me, it’s better than any orgasm for me.”

By the time he's done you're barely able to remember your own name. He's gently kissing you, massaging your legs, praising you.

“I should be thanking you,” you murmur, gently kissing back. “Best sex I've ever had. Most attentive partner I've ever been with. Makes me happy to give you everything I've got and then some.”

Nick's expression changes from happy to loving. Those puppy dog eyes that own your heart. “You're so good to me,” he says softly before pulling you in for cuddles.

As you start eating breakfast, you remind Nick that the two of you still need to talk about the pregnancy. While Nick has given you full control over the decision, you still want to talk things out with him, regarding his wants and concerns.

“My biggest fear is bringing work home with me,” Nick confesses. “But I'm already afraid of that with you. I don't know if a baby would add to that fear.”

“It's not like you're the bigger target here. I'm the one he came after. I'm the one who had to move in with you because my place wasn't safe.”

“So we agree, we live pretty dangerous lives,” Nick nods. “Definitely a factor.”

“At least money isn't so much of a factor,” you comment. We're not ‘higher echelon’ rich but we're pretty secure. Even if I quit my job.”

“Is that something you want?”

You sigh, “if we keep the baby I'll want to give them all the care and attention they need. That means no more job. I enjoy my work and my coworkers but there's been a lot of…tension ever since the incident with Clark.”

“Everyone wants the juicy details?”

“That and the fact that, as a city employee, a lot of my higher ups rely on campaign support from rich people like him. They're not happy with a potential threat to their funds.”

“I could always convince them to change their minds,” Nick offers, eyebrow raised.

You chuckle, “I'm not asking that of you. But I do love your willingness to hurt others for my sake. It really helps with my fear about us accidentally bringing danger home.” Sighing, you rub your belly, “then there are the health dangers. It's definitely a high risk pregnancy.”

Nick nods, his eyes never leaving your stomach. “But we can afford to get you all the medical care you might need. Might have to call in a few favors with the Boss’s doctors but it's doable.”

“And that's without my income, right?”

“Right,” he nods.

“I think I want to try to keep it,” you whisper.

Nick kneels in front of you, gently gripping your chin to make you look him in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He searches for signs of second guessing, signs you might be doing this for anything other than you. Seeing your eyes filled with worry but hopeful determination he smiles, “then let's have a baby.”

Part 2

Tag List: @alicedopey ; @icefrozendeadlyqueen ; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory ; @rebekahdawkins ; @terry2227 ; @texmexdarling

I've tagged everyone who had asked to be tagged in Changing Minds. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the list!

[what-even-is-thiss]

Someday when I have a more consistent schedule I really do wanna have a YouTube channel. And I’ve wondered about sponsorships. I’ve gotten offers on this very blog before to participate in one of those stupid ads for drop shipping crystals that project your birth sign or whatever that I’ve turned down.

I’ve wondered though. Because on one hand sponsors pay good money and money is a thing that is required to live in this day and age. But also I feel like if I ever took a sponsor nobody could ever fully and completely trust my opinion on anything again.

There’s this YouTuber I love whose channel is called Swell Entertainment. And she comes across as being very honest but also she takes sponsorships. And a big part of her channel is review content. So sometimes I wonder if she’s pulling her punches slightly because she still wants to be marketable. But I don’t hold that against her because she’s living in LA for god’s sake and sponsorships provide much more reliable income than other methods.

It’s kinda sad that advertisement is almost required to make a living creating internet content.

I pay for YouTube premium not just because I wanted to get rid of ads on my smart tv, but because creators get more money per view from YouTube premium subscribers. I can’t afford to subscribe to a dozen patreons but I can afford one cheap subscription.

I hope if I ever have a channel big enough to have sponsorships I either take them extremely rarely for stuff I actually care about or don’t take them at all. Because I want to be able to just have opinions about stuff openly. But the sad truth is that money can be an issue. So. Who knows? I certainly don’t hold it against people who take sponsorships. That’s just how the industry works nowadays. They need money to live. And if you have adhd which many creative types do contractual deadlines can really help you get stuff done. And sponsors can get you experiences like vacations and luxury hotel stays and free reviewer copies of books and video games. Who can blame them? There’s so much stuff available to you from sponsors that can improve your quality of life and help you make your business better. Money to hire editors and voice actors and writers and animators, buy better equipment, rent out a sound stage.

But. Idk. A lot of those sponsored products aren’t that good. And a lot of people are susceptible to advertising. It works on a lot of people. Especially when it comes from a face they trust.

The tradeoff to take sponsors or not is a difficult one. Honestly and truly. And it’s very probable that I’ll never be popular enough to actually have to make a decision on these things. But I still think about it every time I see a sponsored segment. What levels of calculation have gone into that? None? A lot? I’ll never be allowed to know because that would be bad for business.

[insuke69]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a hobie x trans!reader mtf kinda like the ftm one you did, and if so please tag me in it

His Girl.

★Hobie Brown x Mtf!reader <3

☆You're feeling insecure of something you know you can't get rid of any time soon. At least Hobie would never mind.

★ ; Angst, misgendering mentioned, descriptions of crying, pre-bottom surgery, fluff.

☆ Transphobia = Blocked 849 words.

_______________________

You look at the woman in the mirror you’ve worked so hard to maintain, making you feel like you inside. After years of taking hormone therapy to kill off the misplaced testosterone and replace them with as much estrogen you could.

Little bitties grew, thinner hairs to shave, and finally being the girl you’ve known you were ever since you saw your friends wear dresses, Hardly anyone could tell; You’re always told ‘You don’t look trans?’ as if trans girls looked any different from the ones assigned as such at birth.

All was good except for one thing.

One thing that could have been good if you were cis.

Of course it's convenient whenever you and your boyfriend, Hobie, are having intimacy, but beyond that: It’s difficult to try and tuck every hour of the day spent in public and you can only dream of wearing thin dresses without that incorrectly positioned dick.

Except you had found a summer dress at a thrift shop while on a date with Hobie and bought it because of it’s cutthroat price and at how it would seem to hug your body perfectly once its being worn, the color would be breathtaking against your skin and ‘on the floor of my bedroom’ as Hobie put it.

That impulsive buy ended up having its repercussions, you were in the bathroom and you almost felt like you were gonna cry.

It wasn’t that the dress didn’t fit, You tried it on when you were buying it, But you were tucked then. Usually when you re-enter the comfort of your own home you get comfortable on the couch or in bed and quit worrying about being tucked or not.

But promptly forgetting about it, your default of having your sex free in the confines of your underwear. That bulge peeking through the soft fabric which made you frown, whining with your hands over your face with frustration.

It’s so hard to try and be as womanly as possible, if it’s not hormones it’s the clothing. If it isn’t clothing, It’s the people and homophobes. If it isn't any that bullshit; It’s the one thing you’re fully stuck with until you can afford the surgery.

Your body.

Hobie had heard the whines from the other side of the door and soon began knocking on it. “Sweethear’?” He asked as the door opened slowly, being greeted by you quickly wiping your eyes free of the fallen tears.

“Hey hey hey..” He said with his voice being gentle and soft as if speaking to a baby, his hands moving towards you to pull them away from your face, soon wiping your tears himself. “What’s wrong?”

You frowned more as you looked up at him, you felt your throat grow an unforgiving lump, and not wanting to talk because you knew your voice would crack with your words.

“The dress doesn’t look good on me..” You mumbled after being able to find your voice, looking down at the dress adorning your frame and straightening it out by your hips to express what you mean.

“What are you talking about? You’re beautiful..” he responded softly as he looked down at you and your body with his eyes gazed at you as if you were the only woman in town, in the city, at all. 

“The dress is too thin- and I’ll have to always be tucked and it’s annoying how I’m literally just a girl but born in the wrong body.” You cried, to which hobie wrapped his arms around you with one hand cradling the back of your head.

“Shh.. Shh.. You’re alrigh’, You’re going to be fine. Soon you’ll have the surgery, soon you wouldn’ even recognize the boy that was once there.” He tried to reassure before you cut him off.

“Soon! I don’t care about soon I need Now, I don’t want to have to wait-”

“Exactly, You’re stuck like this. Things may look bad but look on the brighter side. You have me that will support you along the way, You have the access to hormones and you have something to look forward to. I bet this day in two years will breeze on and by then the only thing about you that wouldn’t be accommodated to the girl you are is a letter in a birth certificate.”

You felt yourself get less tense at his words and melt a bit more into his comforting touch and his words soothing your ears to your brain.

Once the atmosphere calmed down, Hobie kissed the top of your head and leaned over a little more in order to whisper in your ear, “Besides, we can have so much fun in said two years.”

You roll your eyes playfully and soon feel his lips close over yours, and your beating heart pumping downwards in a familiar way. And he slowly eases you against the bathroom sink and hands lowering to the ends of your dress just below your hips, and his voice a low raspy siren call.

“Lemme show you how much fun I can ‘ave wit’ my girl..”

____________

Stopping right before the smut because feminism or something (/j)

I'm not a trans woman so I'm sorry if I got anything bad or wrong! Commissions = open

[writeandsurvive]

Caught in a Snowstorm - Alden Parker 2/2

Summary: After a work road trip, you and Alden have to stop at a hotel cause the roads are being closed and there’s only one room left.

Warnings: smut, age gap, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, jealous!Alden, Sawyer being a jerk, gossip, Torres being the annoying brother

Words count: 5.4k

Part 1

Tags: @geeksareunique

The sun was still down when you woke up again and the bed felt extremely cold. You were cold. You didn’t have to look for Alden as you felt the extra blanket covering the bed. “Heating system out again?” You sleepily asked.

“Power too.” He answered, crawling back into bed. “It’s barely 5 am, let’s try to get a bit more sleep.” He wrapped his arm around his waist and brought your body against his. He was still shirtless, and it felt amazing to be able to touch his skin a bit more. “Is this okay?” He mixed his legs with yours and kissed your forehead.

“Perfect.” You said without thinking. You tentatively kissed his beard, and were more than happy when his lips met yours. This kiss was slow and passionate, tongues dancing together, both making little moans. You wanted him, all of him. At this moment, you didn’t care about having no condoms. After all, you were on birth control, and if he told you he was clean, you’d believe him. And it would definitely keep you warm. Still kissing, you moved to get on top of him, immediately feeling his growing erection in his shorts. You grind your center against him, mad that there was some fabric in between. His hands were touching every part of you they could, and one of them grabbed your butt cheek.

“We can’t.” He struggled to say between growls.

“I—I’m on birth control.” You told him, kissing his neck. “And clean.”

He gently grabbed the back of your neck and pulled a little on your hair to bring your forehead against his. The power wasn’t just out at the hotel but in the entire neighborhood, which meant that there was no light outside nor inside. You couldn’t see his face, how he looked. “Are you sure you want to cross that line?” He asked.

“I think it’s too late.”

“Fair enough.” And he kissed you again.

Your tank top was off almost immediately, you couldn’t feel the cold anymore. Alden played with your breasts, while kissing and sucking on your neck, earning some moans for you. You kept grinding yourself against his fully erected cock, until one of his hands worked on getting rid of your - ruined - panties. “So fucking wet.” He muttered after he touched your most sensitive part. “You’re a dream.” He whispered in your ear.

You shook your head, smiling and put his shorts down. “I’m very real. This is too.”

Both completely naked, Alden rolled you down and got on top of you, his cock aligned with your entrance. He rubbed himself against your pussy, his precum mixing with your wetness. Hands all over each other’s body, kissing like it was the last time, he pushed himself inside you. So slowly, inch by inch, it was killing you. “Alden!” You whined-moaned.

“Patience, babydoll.” He pampered your face with kisses. “You’re so fucking tight. Dear god!” He thrust into you, getting just a little more of him inside every back and forth.

“You’re such a tease. Fuck me!”

He chuckled. “So needy, are we? I’m supposed to fuck you properly.” He reminded you.

A few moments later, he finally bottomed out, making both of you moan loudly. You could wake up the entire hotel and you wouldn’t care about it. He stopped moving, giving you time to adjust to his size. “You alright?” He softly asked.

“Never been better.” You kissed him. “Move already.”

“You can do better than that.” Despite the fact that you couldn’t make out his face, you knew he was smirking. And not moving.

“Want me to beg, Parker?”

“Don’t Parker me during sex. Or I’ll—“ he stopped. Someone needed a little encouragement for dirty talk, and you were going to give it to him.

“Or what? You’ll punish me? Fuck me senseless? Edge me?” You could tell from the noises he was making that it was working. And finally he started to move but not as slowly and softly as before. He retrieved all the way out, and slammed back in. Over and over again.

“That’s how you like it, baby, huh? That’s what you’ll get.”

Alden pounded into you, his cock stretching you out. The man could move. He knew when to slow down, when to stay deep inside and move around, when to be fast and hard. He was definitely fucking you properly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, offering a better angle for him to go even deeper. Your nails were scratching his back, your mouth tasting as much of him as you could. “You feel so good inside me, Alden. Don’t stop! Please, fuck.”

He grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head while his other hand started to rub your clit, making you lose it. “I’m so close.” He informed you. “I need you to cum with me. Clench around my cock, baby.” You did as told, and it didn’t take long before you cried out his name as the orgasm hit you like a huge wave. “Where?” He breathlessly urged you.

“Your choice, wherever!” You encouraged him. He didn’t have the time nor the will to pull out and he came deep inside you.

With the power out, there were only limited options for breakfast. You and Alden were starving, and cold despite the layers of clothes and the extra blanket you carried around. Several customers like you were gathering around the chimney to warm up. “No power outage in DC, but some roads are still closed. We’ll have to wait before going home.” He informed you after a phone call with McGee. You were curled up in an armchair, blanket over you, warming up your hands with your cup of tea, and moved a little to give him some space. He grabbed his coffee for the table. “Stand up.” He told you.

He sat in the armchair, spreading his legs for you to settle between them, and covered both of you with the blanket. His arm held your middle as you leaned into him. To all the people around, you probably looked like a couple in love and you enjoyed that very much.

“Were they able to get some work done?” You asked quietly. No one needed to hear your conversation.

“Only research. McGee is still stuck at his place, no school for the twins. Knight and Palmer were able to walk to the office, so Jimmy is Kasie's puppet in the lab as she’s at home too.”

“This must be fun.” You giggled, imagining Kasie bossing Jimmy over the phone. “What about Torres?”

“Sleeping in, I suppose. Can’t blame him.”

“And you and I—“ you turned your face to look at him. “Are stuck in here.” He kissed your nose and then your lips.

“I’m glad we got caught in a snowstorm, to be honest.” He whispered and you grinned.

“Me too.” You kissed him more.

“A nice break before going back to reality.” He said, kissing your hair and holding you closer.

So… this was it? Once you were out of there, things were done? You forced yourself not to react to what Alden said and just drank your tea, looking at the people around. There were couples, families, friends. Most of them eager to go home and be warm. There was this elderly couple in particular who caught your eyes. The lady was totally shivering despite the blanket, being close to the chimney and her husband trying to keep her warm.

Standing up, you took your coat off, and walked over to them. “Here, take my coat.” You offered her.

“Oh no, dear. Thank you but you should keep it.” She smiled at you.

“Please, it’ll help. I’m okay with my hoodie.”

It was the husband who took the coat because he knew his wife wouldn’t. He put it around her shoulders. “That’s very generous of you. I hope this doesn’t last long.” He said.

“Are you staying here or just driving by?”

“We were going back home to DC after visiting our children and grandchildren.”

“We have some friends there who are keeping us updated. When we’ll be able to leave, I’ll let you know, alright?”

“That’d be very kind of you, thank you.”

You noticed the lady looking at your left hand. “Sir?” She said towards Alden, who was watching the scene.

“Yes, ma’am? Do you need something?” He was ready to stand up and get or do whatever this lady needed.

“Marry her. She’s a sweetheart.”

You felt yourself blushing purposefully. Alden extended his hand to you, you walked over to settle back between his legs. “I’m not sure she’d say yes.” Was his answer.

“Are you not seeing the way she looks at you? She would say yes in a heartbeat.”

You were back in his arms. Alden looked down at you while you were avoiding his eyes, feeling shy and embarrassed. This lady had a point but he didn’t need to know that. His hand was stroking your leg to warm you up. “I guess I just—don’t understand how someone like her can feel like this for someone like me.” He was answering to her but staring at you.

“You don’t need to understand it.” The husband said. “You just need to take it and be thankful.”

“Yeah.” He shyly smiled and looked back at them. “I should just do that.”

Your coat helped the lady feel a bit warmer and you were happy about it. You and Alden stayed there silently for a long moment, just holding each other and trying not to freeze. At some point, he grabbed his phone. You could see everything he was doing as your face was buried in his neck. He opened the message app, clicked on the “Dad” conversation and typed: “Are you safe and warm, dad?” He kept his phone in hand until an answer arrived.

Dad: Yes

Dad: Are you

Alden: Stuck in a hotel a few hours away from DC but I’m okay. Stay home.

Dad: What are you doing there

Alden: Work. I’m with Y/N.

Dad: Of course you are

Dad: Tell her I say Hi

Alden clicked on the camera, and both your faces appeared on the screen. He smiled and waited for you to do the same. He took the selfie and sent it to his father.

Alden: She says Hi too.

Dad: You look comfy

Dad: Something I should know

Alden: If you should know, you would.

Dad: Idiot

Alden: I love you too Dad

“No one else other than your dad can see this picture.”

“Why?”

“Did you see my face? I look like a corpse.”

Putting his phone down, he grabbed your chin to make you look at him and softly kissed your lips. “You’re beautiful. The most.” He whispered.

~

It took a few more hours before you could finally drive home. You let the elderly couple that it couple hit the road as you promised and the lady gave you your coat back, thanking you several times. Alden told them they could follow you, as he knew which road was safe to take and which wasn’t. The ride wasn’t as animated as the day before, and you definitely avoided talking about what happened between you two.

It was pretty late when you got to the office, the entire team was there and you all had a sitrep about the case. Luckily, they were able to get some stuff done, and found a lead but it had to wait the day after. After a bathroom break, you found Nick in the hallway, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “That’s creepy.” You said.

“For all the times you cornered me inside the bathroom.”

“What can I do for you, Nicholas?” You started to walk but Torres stopped you.

“One bedroom left, huh?” He wrapped his arms around your neck like an annoying brother.

“How the hell do you know that?!”

“Parker gave the receipts to accounting. They knew you were both gone, and found it weird there was only one room booked.”

“Jesus! We got back less than five hours ago!”

“It’s NCIS, and you know all the ladies there have a thing for Parker.”

You rolled your eyes. Nick hadn’t let go of you, and you kept walking with him practically choking you. “Fine. One bedroom indeed but a queen size bed and pillow wall.”

Nick laughed as you reached the corner, finding Alden walking towards you. He looked at you and Torres, puzzled. “Fighting in the hallways?”

“If we were, his ass would be on the floor.”

“Look at you being so confident.” Nick grabbed your cheeks with his hand and kissed one of them.

“When the hell are you firing his ass, Parker?” You asked your team leader who didn’t look very amused by this behavior.

“Sure he’d fire mine before yours.” Grinning like a child, Nick walked away, leaving you and Alden alone.

“What was that?”

“What? Torres being Torres?”

“Does he know?”

“Sure. I gave him every detail.” You rolled your eyes.

“Why the sarcasm, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. I— Look, I’m tired, I can’t warm up, I honestly can’t wait to go back to my place.”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you. Calling it a night, we’ll start fresh in the morning.”

“Great!” You let out a sigh of relief. “Good night, Al-Parker.”

You were once again stopped as you tried to walk away. But this time, Alden pinned you against the wall, and looked around to make sure there was no one. He cradled your cheek, before leaning over to kiss you. There were so many questions in your head but you couldn’t fight him off to ask them. You didn’t want to. Eager, you wrapped your arms around his neck and intensified the kiss that lasted for quite a moment.

“I thought it was a nice break before coming back to reality?” You said when he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You deserve better than what I can give you.” He said softly, looking at you so lovingly. Whatever his internal struggle was, it was written all over his face. You didn’t think twice before grabbing his hand and dragging him into the maintenance room that was close. You turned on the light and locked the door, before kissing him. You didn’t want to give him time to object and try to talk you out of this. But he was answering your kiss just as eagerly. His hands grabbed your ass and squeezed. You couldn’t figure out if he was an ass or tits man.

There was no time to lose, so you wickedly smiled at him and got down on your knees. “Doll, don’t—“

You unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. Alden threw his head with a growl when you freed his semi hard cock. It immediately reacted to your tongue. It grew when you wrapped your lips around the tip. “What are you doing to me?” He choked quietly, as one of his hands got to the back of your head while the other stroked your cheek.

You didn’t know if you’d be able to take all of him in your month but you were going to do your best. And you started to get into work; you split on his now rock hard cock, gave him a few strokes while looking up to him with a smile, and sucked him off.

Alden leaned back against the shelves, held your hair in his fist to guide you just the way he needed. He started to move his hips, almost facefucking you but forced himself to have some self control. The man was holding back again.

You held his cock up right and worked on his balls, earning a loud moan from him. Remembering where he was, he decided to bite onto his hand to avoid making any more noise. “Fuck my mouth, Alden.” You then told him. “Use it.”

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, rubbing his tip against your lips and tongue. “You’re such a naughty girl. Such a dirty mouth that needs to be shut.”

And he fucked your mouth. You choked several times, you had tears coming out of your eyes, saliva and precum dripping down your chin. You had to rub your legs together to release a bit of pressure you had down there. Alden noticed and smirked, biting hard on his bottom lip. “Are you going to swallow like a good girl?” You looked up to him and nodded. A few more strokes and he was coming down your throat, using all of his self control to be as quiet as possible.

Despite being out of breath and weak in the knees, Alden helped you back up after you zipped him up. He dried your cheeks and chin before holding you close against him. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“I don’t want this to stop.” You admitted. “I want to enjoy what we have and can have. I don’t give a crap about who deserves what.” You held his face in your hands. “I like you.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, “So, if you like me too, how about we—“

“I like you too.” He cut you off. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Do you?!”

“Endless hours of Supernatural?”

You giggled and kissed him again. “Exactly. And good sex.” You reached for the door handle and unlocked it.

“Girl, you’re already the best I—“

You turned around to look at him, his cheeks completely pink. He clearly didn’t want to admit this now, like this. You couldn’t help but grinned, proud. Alden walked past you, to leave the maintenance room. “I really need to learn to shut my mouth.” He muttered. You hurried to catch up with him in the hallway and jumped on his back.

“I got you.” You whispered in his ear, before nipping his lobe and walking away.

Whatever this relationship was, you decided to keep it a secret. And it turned out that you loved sneaking around. Pretending to leave the office separately to meet again in the parking lot or one of your apartments, stealing kisses in the elevator or hallways, even making out in the evidence garage. As much as he loved the blowjob in the maintenance room, Alden preferred to keep sex out of the headquarters and you agreed on this.

Despite the lack of labeling, it felt a lot like you two were dating and Alden was the perfect partner. He’d cook for you, using the herbs he grows in his greenhouse. He’d massage you to relieve some tension after a long day at work - and you returned it. He’d take you to dinner, to the movies, or even getting a drink somewhere. He’d run baths for you and end up climbing in the tub with you. And obviously, he’d fuck your brains out whenever he could.

You loved that he visits his father every Sunday, spending a few hours there just to hang out and play Risk with him. You even tagged along a couple of times. Roman was clearly suspicious of the two of you, but you didn’t say anything and neither did Alden. But when the older Parker was kicked out of his retirement home, and had to temporarily move in with his son, you knew you wouldn’t be able to see your man as much.

“How is it going?” You asked Alden as you met in the elevator, your arms wrapped around his neck.

“He woke up an hour before my alarm, woke me up because he couldn’t find the coffee that was right there. He turned on the TV so loud, I can still hear it. And complained that I don’t have cable. So you know—great.” His head dropped on your shoulder like an exhausted child. You giggled, stroking his hair.

“It’s temporary, baby. Show him Netflix tonight.”

“I’m not going to survive this.” The elevator’s doors opened, and your work day began.

You missed him.

Roman’s stay was extending, and even though you came over here and there, you couldn’t be what you were with Alden. You miss his touch, his kisses, sharing a bed with him, your conversations. Everything. And you wanted to tell him as much, but you were scared it’d make him panic, that he’d ask to back down a little. So you kept it to yourself.

To everyone’s surprise, Agent Sawyer worked a case with the team. He was annoying, arrogant, and flirted with you. You had turned him down a couple of times already but only Kasie knew about this. And of course, he took advantage of this new case to ask again.

“Sawyer, you never give up, do you?”

“I’m relentless.” He smirked. "Plus, you owe me." You sighed. Of course he remembered how he saved your ass a while back, before Parker joined the team. But holding this against you? That was such a dick move that only Sawyer would be able to. "I think what you said was–" he leaned closer to you, you were trapped between him and the wall. You wanted to punch his guts really bad, but knew you couldn't. Not that anyone would blame you for it. "If we get out of this alive, I'll accept your offer."

"In my defense, I was positive I wouldn't survive." You stated and he smirked.

"But you did, thanks to me. And I never told anyone what happened. So–tonight? At 8?"

You stayed silent for a moment. What should you do? Obviously your mind immediately pictured Alden's face. What would he think of that? What would he do to Sawyer if he knew? Clearly, you had no interest in going out with that guy, with or without Alden. But if you said yes, would he finally let go? Like, one night out and it's done, he wouldn't hold this against you, right? Plus, you were only agreeing to go get one drink, not an actual date. And sex was totally off the table, as you weren't attracted to Sawyer at all.

"If I agree to this, you'll never ask again. And what happened that day, you forget it. You put it to rest. Deal?" You knew you were asking a lot to a man who couldn't be trusted. But what else could you do?

"Deal." He grinned, winked at you before kissing your cheek and walking away. You wiped your cheek with your sleeve. That was going to be a nightmare.

Later that day, you were driving to a person of interest's house with Alden. It's been a while you didn't have some alone time, not that the circumstances were ideal. You asked him about his dad again, knowing that Roman was positively driving his son crazy. "I showed him the retirement home you found, thank god he agreed to visit it this weekend!" He sighed with relief.

"That's good. Hopefully this one will suit him and he won't get kicked out of it."

"Fingers crossed!" He grabbed your hand he's been holding to his lips and kissed your knuckles while driving. "But he wants you to come over tonight, watch the game with us."

Of course. The one you couldn't. What was the way out of this?

"Oh, um. I can't tonight–"

"Oh, okay. I know it's not work holding you." He smiled, but you could tell he was intrigued. He knew you didn't have much of a social life outside the team, and if something was planned, he'd already know about it.

"I'm going out." You couldn't lie to him. What would be the point anyways?

"Um–with Kasie? Jess? Torres? All of the above and I'm not inviting?"

You smiled despite yourself and your embarrassment.

"Sawyer."

"Sa–Sawyer?! You can't stand the guy!" You stayed silent. "Wait – going out for–drinks? Or is this a date?" He struggled saying that word.

"Drinks."

"Alright– I don't get it but fine."

You couldn't help but to be disappointed. Wasn't he jealous? Not even a little bit? Obviously, you didn't know if it meant that he trusted you or that he didn't really care. The former should be good news, a relationship is healthy when there's trust, but you still hoped he'd be upset about it. At least a little. Asking more about this, why you agreed to this since you didn't like Sawyer. Didn't he care if you end up sleeping with someone else? The rest of the ride was pretty silent from both sides, and the return ride too.

Around 8pm, Alden's house.

He saw you leaving with Sawyer. He always paid attention to you, but after you told him about tonight, he couldn't take his eyes off you. He had to know if it was true, and it was. You were out with another man. A player nonetheless. A handsome dude, about your age. Alden knew you couldn't stand Sawyer, that his personality was a huge turn off for you, but still there was a little voice inside his head saying "what if". What were you doing to him?

"So, she's really not coming?" Roman asked his son.

"I told you that." Alden answered, more harshly than he intended. He grabbed his beer and drank half of it, under the concerned stare of his dad.

"Did you guys have a fight?"

Alden stared at the tv even though it was the commercials. "No."

"Are you sure? Look if you did something wrong, just apologize and move on."

"Why do you assume I did something wrong? Maybe it's her who's out with another guy!"

Roman just let out "Ah", as it all made sense. Jealousy.

"I don't know exactly what's going on, because you don't really talk to me. But I know there's something between you two, and I know she loves you. It's written all over her face when she looks at you." Alden looked at his father, like a sad little kid. "It's like she's looking at the Holy Grail or something." Roman wanted his son to stop looking like that. "What drugs are you giving her?" He smirked, and Alden had the intended reaction, as he chuckled softly.

"Honestly, I don't–understand how she can love me."

"Me neither, go on."

Alden shook his head with a smile. "I mean, Sawyer is a dick but she should be with someone like him. Someone her age, someone she can have a whole future with."

"Don't you think that's her choice to make? If she chooses you, just embrace it, son."

Maybe his dad and the older man were right. He stayed there a few minutes to think. "Are you good being alone?" He asked his father.

"I'm a grown man, Alden. I don't want to see you until tomorrow."

He grabbed his stuff and left the apartment.

Once he got into his car, he realized he didn't know where you were. He could pin your phone, but you wouldn't like that. He did know where your go to bar was, so he hoped that was where you were and drove there. He didn't know what he'd say, no matter how much he thought about it. He could be turned down, after all, maybe you weren't going to choose him. But the idea of you with someone else was driving him crazy, he had to do something about it.

He saw Sawyer first, your back was turned to him. Were you having fun? Enjoying yourself? Did you want to be here? Many things rushed into his mind, but it was to turn back as Sawyer saw him and you turned around, surprised.

"Agent Parker, fancy seeing you here!" Sawyer smiled. Alden did not.

"Not a coincidence." He looked at you, "I need you to come with me."

"Where?" You asked.

"Just–come. Please?"

"Can't this wait?" Sawyer interfered. "We're in the middle of something."

"You definitely are." Alden answered without even looking at the man. "Doll?"

You understood. And you liked it. So you were definitely going to have a little fun. You looked up to him, resting your chin on your hand and smirked. "Do I really have to come now?"

"Yes." He was stern.

"I'm kinda busy…"

"I don't care." He put his hands on the table and leaned. "You're coming with me, right now. That's an order."

You loved this side of him. You actually turned you on.

"Yes sir." You stood up, grabbing your purse. "I'll see you at the office." You told Sawyer.

"Just at the office." Alden added, grabbing you by the waist and walking you out. Sawyer was left confused.

As you were about to reach his car, Alden brought your body against his and kissed you breathless. It was practically a public make out session but neither of you cared. "You're mine." He growled in your ear.

"As long as you're mine too."

"I'm gonna show you just how much."

Alden drove to your place, holding your hand the entire time. The ride was pretty quiet, you were waiting for him to say something, maybe open up about his feelings, what he wanted but he didn't. You weren't going to apologize because technically you did nothing wrong. Plus, you accepted for one reason only.

As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, Alden slammed it shut, locked up, and pinned you against the first wall that was there. He held your cheek, making you look at him. "Did you do that to make me jealous?"

"No."

"Did you want to go out with him?"

"No."

He looked confused. "Then I don't understand." You sighed. You grabbed his hand, kissed his palm and took him to the couch, where you explained everything to him. The mistake you made during a case, getting yourself almost killed and forcing Sawyer to shoot someone who had very important Intel. He took all the blame, and dealt with the consequences. You've always been suspicious that he came to an agreement with Gibbs, the only other person to know the entire truth. And when your former boss told you to go on with the lie, you did.

"He used that to get you to agree to go out with him." Alden said after you finished your resume.

"Yeah."

"He's so much more of a dick than I thought. I don't care what he does, he's not working with us anymore."

"It doesn't matter Alden–"

"Oh yeah, it does. No one pressures my girl to do something she doesn't want to."

You stayed silent and smiled. "Why are you smiling?" Alden asked.

"I'm 'your girl'?"

He grabbed your waist to get you onto his lap, and slowly kissed your neck. "Is that what you want?"

"More than anything." You grabbed his chin for your lips to meet his. Quickly enough, clothes were taken off. Still on top of him, you were rubbing your wet pussy against his rock hard cock. "Don't be a tease, baby." He breathed out.

"Doll." You added, just letting his tip in.

"Huh?"

"Babydoll. You forgot the doll part."

He chuckled, holding your body against his as tight as possible and pushing his length inside you, making both of you moan. "I love being inside you, babydoll."

"Fuck, so I do."

You stayed in this position the entire time, because it was the one that fitted perfectly at this moment. Being able to hold each other close, trying to be just one person. Feeling - almost hearing - his heart beat faster and faster as he approached his climax. He came inside you, slightly before your orgasm hit, but didn't leave you hanging for even a second. He kept rubbing your clit until your juice spread all over his pelvic, and you cried out his name.

"Don't ever go out with another man." He whispered as you were both catching your breath. "Please." He kissed your shoulder, where he bit a few moments before.

"Aw, I wanted to take your dad on a date."

"Okay, never talk about my dad while I'm high from an orgasm, your naked body against mine."

You laughed and kissed him.

"But he knows about us by the way." He said as he got some water in the kitchen.

You shamelessly stared at him as he walked back to you, completely naked, like he owned the place. You smirked as he handed you a glass of water. "Perfect, I can keep you then."

"For as long as you want."

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and The Boss | austin!elvis x oc (part 11)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana’s most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he’s just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she’s on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 1729

warnings/notes: Gun Violence

Chapter 11

I'd be lying if I claimed I wasn't worried about my father's impending visit. I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to wiggle my way out of his hands this time. There will be no rebellion or blackmail to save me or Elvis. This meeting would put a stop to everything, regardless of who won. I stayed close to Elvis while he and the rest of his mafia armed themselves with as many of Elvis' guns as they could conceal on their bodies. It was like witnessing troops train for battle. Elvis approached me, a fully loaded handgun in his hands.

He extended it to me. “Now, darlin’, I don’t know how this is gonna go. But I’ll be damned if I let him take you away from here no matter what happens to me.” He took my already trembling hand and placed the gun in it. “I’ll protect you with my life and you know that. But if Walker manages to fire first…you need to defend yourself. I know he’s your Daddy–”

“Not anymore.” I slid my hand around the gun's grip and tucked it into the waistline of my pants. Despite my quivering palms, the rest of me was rock solid. Even before I met Elvis, Daddy had been dead to me for a long time. I could pull the trigger if the time came. At least, that's what I told myself.

Elvis kissed both of my hands on the back. “When all this is over, we’re gonna have a Hollywood weddin’.” He grinned, but I could sense the anxiety he was attempting to conceal.

I smiled back and placed my hand on his cheek. “We sure will.”

~

2 hours appeared to fly away before Elvis received a call from the front gate. I knew it was time when his jaw clenched. He hung up the phone, nodding to the mafia guys who had been eagerly waiting for Elvis' signal. Elvis led me to his office, followed by his guys. When my father arrived at the door, just two people remained to accompany him in. Coming down the corridor, I could hear his dominating footfall. I took a long breath to calm my nerves, which were becoming more agitated as the steps became louder. The door flung wide, revealing my father and his mafia associates, men I had grown up with since childhood. Men who were previously like uncles were suddenly total strangers standing before me, staring at me with the same disdain they had for Elvis.

Elvis was absolutely disregarded by Daddy. He gave me a cheeky look as he glanced at me. His gaze slid down until it came to rest on my hand, which was lying on the outside of my thigh. His lower lip trembled. “Well…” he said slowly, “I guess my little gift was an early wedding present, wasn’t it?”

“You’re a sick man, Walker.” Elvis pretended he hadn't heard Daddy's remark. “You knew she would be in that car with me. You were willin’ to let your own daughter die just to prove a point?”

“My daughter made her choice.” While conversing to Elvis, he kept his gaze on me. “But once I get rid of you, well, her choice won’t really matter, will it?”

Elvis' jaw clenched. “I have no complaints about resolvin’ this peacefully. I’ll forget about the money you stole and your debt to me, but you have to leave Laura Jean here with me and never contact her again.”

“What kind of father would I be if I left my daughter here with you and your riff raff?” Daddy narrowed his eyes. “Especially when your bloodline has a history of killing mine.”

What was he on about? Until I met Elvis, I had never heard of the Presley family or their links to the mafia. And I knew Daddy would never miss an opportunity to tell me about another mafia family that was our rival. He had to be lying. Just trying to get something going inside of me so I'd make a mistake and he'd have the upper hand.

I discovered my own voice before Elvis had an opportunity to discover his. “What are you talkin’ about, Daddy?”

Daddy gave me a frightening smile, as though everything was going as planned. “You know your Mama died in a hit that was meant for me. You should know, darlin’. It’s his fault you don’t have a Mama anymore. Or should I say it's his Daddy’s fault.”

My cheeks heated, and I felt as if the world was whirling around me. My mouth got dry, and drums began to pound in my mind. Vernon Presley was the reason my life had crumbled. He was the reason my father saw me as a property rather than a daughter. His thugs had murdered my mother, an innocent, charming woman who had done nothing wrong but fall in love with the wrong guy. The name Presley was the boogieman I'd been looking for all these years, the thing that kept me awake at night hoping and praying for justice for a mother who died much too young.

“Laura Jean…” Elvis began in that lovely, delicate voice I had grown to adore, the one that was just meant for me..

My hands were quicker than my thinking, and I snatched the revolver from my belt and pointed it at Elvis. The Memphis Mafia attempted to make a move towards me, but Elvis stopped them and told them to keep still. Angry tears streamed down my cheeks, and all I could see through my clouded vision was red. “Did you know?”  I said, my voice shaking.

Elvis raised his hands. “Darlin’---”

“DID YOU KNOW?!” I yelled and removed the gun's safety. My finger was poised above the trigger.

Elvis' expression softened as he gazed at me with loving eyes. I have no doubt I could have shot him right there and he wouldn't have stopped loving me. I was blinded by the wrath, anguish, and heartache I'd been harboring since I was 12 years old. Elvis released both of his hands. “I didn’t know. But I knew Daddy had ordered some hits before he got jailed. He called it protectin’ me from the nearby bosses who would come sniffin’ around once word got out about me takin’ his place. When you told me about your Mama and with Louisiana bein’ so close, I—I thought maybe, but I didn’t want it to be true.”

The hammering in my brain became more intense, and the wrath within demanded blood for blood. I could hear my father laughing behind me. “See, baby girl? That’s why I’ve kept you so close, tried so hard to get you away from this boy. He doesn’t love you. He’s just tryin’ to finish what his father started.”

Mama's face flashed across my head like a movie reel. Her smiling face saying my name as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. Her hugging me and singing to me only to serve the purpose of making me smile and cheering me up. Her teaching me to play the piano and her bell-like giggles when I hit the wrong key. The images then altered. I saw Elvis's face. Elvis smiling at me and whispering my name to me in the breeze. Elvis cradling me in his arms and tenderly sang me to sleep. Elvis teaching me to play the guitar and his boisterous laughter when I couldn't figure it out. My thoughts abruptly cleared, allowing me to see Elvis's face directly in front of me. That was right. That first night when I watched Elvis perform, I rediscovered the affection I had lost from Mama. His love, our love, was as precious and beautiful as Mama's love for me. Elvis was nothing like his father, and I was nothing like mine.

I spun around, my gun now aimed squarely at my father. He also indicated for his men to take a step back. His amusement was unwavering. A memory went through my head of Daddy teaching me how to shoot a gun. If you aim at something with this, you better always intend on killing it, he had said. “What? Are you going to shoot me now? Your own father?” He laughed. “You’re not going to kill me, Laura Jean. As much as you hate to admit it, you need me. You can’t survive without me.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t needed you for a long time, Daddy.”

“You know that’s a lie. Look where you’ve ended up, look how far you’ve fallen.” He extended his hand. “Come with me, sweetheart. Let us be the family we were meant to be.”

I'd heard him talk like this before. He'd only used that voice with Mama. A sincere voice that made you believe he meant what he said. But there was something odd about it. The genuineness felt distorted and untrue. “Leave, Daddy.” 

“You’re coming with me, you little brat! Whether you want to or not!” He pulled out his handgun and pointed it at Elvis.

I didn't think about it. I simply reacted. In my haze, I heard a loud gunshot and had no idea who had shot first. I cast a brief glance towards Elvis. There was no blood or evidence of harm. He appeared unharmed and content. I carefully turned my head to see where my father had recently stood. He was now lying on the ground, blood soaking his costly suit from a gunshot wound to the chest. As I approached him, he was struggling for oxygen and choking on his own blood. His men just watched for a mob leader who fell quickly lost respect. I stood over him, his astonished and wounded gaze was returned with one of indifference.

I knelt next to him. “I want you to know two things before you die. That your daughter who you treated like an expensive object is the one who killed you. The other thing I want you to know…is that one day soon, your daughter is going to hold the name of the family who ruined your life.”  I kissed and placed my fingertips on his brow before rising to my feet. I aimed the gun at him once more. “Goodbye Daddy.” I fired, the bullet striking him between the eyes.

Stay tuned for part 11!! Click HERE to view!

[willow-and-morel]

Visions Through Orpiment Eyes

Chapter 2: Train Your Human Tuesday

Jasper

I woke up, still in the forest. With no idea how I had gotten here in the first place. I sighed, at least my headache had started to subside and I could actually think clearly. My back still ached- it seemed more inflamed than earlier. I looked around myself to find that fine lines of grass, or possibly rope, bound my hands. I stared at the tiny knots; it seemed like the string was barely holding onto my wrists. I tried to move forward and winced as my shirt edged against the inflamed wounds on my shoulders and back.

Too bad I don’t have a first aid kit with me, I chuckled.

“Stop moving.” I flinched as I heard a firm voice from the ground, close to my left side. I looked over to see the humanoid.

I guess I was not hallucinating earlier... It was only three or so inches tall, maybe less, with fluffy shoulder-length hair and animalistic ears. It had “hands” or- what resembled hands… they were more paw-like in shape. To match, it had digitigrade-like legs and soft clawed paws instead of feet. The main defining feature though, was its glare. A mix of intelligence, hatred, and fear. I recoiled as this thing seemed to stare daggers through me. It was an odd feeling to endure- Such a small creature holding emotions much too big for its presence. I was still observing it in awe as it seemed to wait for my response.

I choked up a bit as I attempter to get my words out, “Um…” I awkwardly held my hands up to show they were still bound. Although I could easily break them, it seemed more respectful to wait. They gave me an odd look.

“What- what do you want with me?” I asked. I noticed that anytime I moved or spoke it flinched, keeping a hand on what I assumed was a weapon at its side. I did not fully understand their skittish behavior, as they could have run away the moment I slumped over. I had never seen such a small humanoid before, and I wasn’t sure if it was going to grab its friends to eat the flesh right off me. I wouldn’t be able to do much against a group effort in my current state.

“I need…” they hesitated, a mild look of disgust in their eyes,

“I need your protection.”

I looked at them confused. They live in this forest right? Why would they need me…? I chuckled, which caused them to tighten their grip on the weapon in their holster. I continued in explanation,

“What use would I be to you? Anyways, I’ll die of infection before I can assist you with anything.” I turned slightly to show the bloodied wound on my back. They looked… flabbergasted? Annoyed? I couldn't tell. It seemed I was having trouble reading them.

“Fine, you help me, I help you.” They growled, “I know what kind of plant to use for your wounds and where water is… I can keep you alive and you can use your… size… “ -they looked me up and down, eyes still piercing into me-

“To keep me alive.”

What?

What the hell does that mean?

It sent shivers down my spine to hear such familiar words.

I'm not as useful as you think I am.

I was starting to worry they were going to use me for something that might put me in more danger than I already was in.

Why is their phrasing so odd?

I could not follow whatever thought process they were going through. They were still shaking, or trembling. It was hard to see. Maybe they thought I would kill them? I cocked my head slightly.

“So…” I held up my bound hands, “Can I get rid of these?” They nodded slowly, and pulled out their knife to cut the ropes. I was too impatient to wait as I ripped the thin ropes away from my hands. They looked somewhat dismayed at the fact that the ropes were futile.

Sorry, I can wait for you.

I promise

Don't let it be a lie this time

Fawn

You have got to be kidding me, I thought. Between the trembling, my heart rate being through the roof, and still registering that my only family member was killed in front of me- I was feeling… well.. Like shit.

I looked up at the gigantic form in front of me, bloodied and tired looking.

Just how much blood has it lost?? It was definitely more than probably was safe. It was taking all of my willpower to avoid locking my knees and falling to the ground, or simply running away from a creature who could easily kill or harm me.

Even not on purpose, it’s still going to be a danger. Great, great…

I made a mental note to train the human to never grab me. So just how dangerous would a giant with a thorough amount of blood loss be…? There were pros and cons, but I would have to take the gamble.

I pointed west. “We should head that way. There’s a stream and the plants growing in it should disinfect and assist in healing your wounds.” He nodded but seemed hesitant to move. My stomach sank.

“Can you walk?” I asked. It wasn’t as if I could carry him there. He groaned, which sounded more like a low growl then I would have liked. It was still taking my brain a couple tries to register that any noise the human made would be much louder than I would have appreciated, even if he was attempting to be quiet. I made another metal note to try and avoid flinching when he spoke.

“I can make it… er… probably.” He slowly moved to a kneeling position, clouding out the speckled sunlight and looming over me. I still flinched but I was amazed to find I managed to keep the composure to even speak to this thing. It seemed he had figured that he would need to carry me, which I was not adamant about… although I would much rather be high up than underfoot. He held a hedgehog sized hand out onto the ground for me to clamber onto. I stared, waited, and looked up at the scratched and tired face of the human in front of me. In comparison to his scratched arms and legs his hands were slender and relatively smooth besides hard calluses on his left hand. They still had smudges of blood but were oddly unscathed. I sighed, trying to bring my heart rate down and preparing myself for the sense of vertigo that I would undoubtedly have to deal with once he started moving.

“I won’t hurt you.” he said, I chuckled under my breath in response.

Yeah right, beanpole. I almost growled.

I climbed onto his palm, and fingers a bit longer than I was tall twitched slightly at my movement. It was an odd, fleshy, warm surface. What disconcerned me most was the sense of his slow pulse. It was enough to have him in front of me, it was another thing entirely to be sitting in his hands. Hands that could squeeze the life out of me, hands that could snap bones, rip apart limbs-

I tried to stop thinking about various nightmarish circumstances as I was still mentally preparing myself for him to start moving. When he did I was quickly brought back to reality. I propped myself kneeling down to stay balanced, as I assumed I would not be able to stand very well with how quick he was moving. It felt as if I was being pressed further into his palm as gravity took me down whilst he moved upwards. It made my head spin with the sense of movement but eventually he stopped with his hand carefully set next to his right shoulder. I stepped off onto his shoulder and kneeled in front of his neck, the connection point between his neck and shoulders had a natural dip with his collarbone, making an easy spot to sit in. His pulse was louder now that I was next to his carotid artery. I hated the feeling of obvious life right next to me, like a stupid mountain of flesh. “You good?” he questioned, I flinched at the volume as well as the vibrations from his vocal chords, which resonated through my bones.

“I’m fine- just, speak quieter please.” I responded, rubbing my ears a bit from the sudden noise. He hummed a low sound in response, which although was quieter, still made me flinch. I could feel so much vibration within his throat and I tried not to think about how the face above me could swallow me whole. He waited a moment before standing up. As he stood I had to hold onto the collar of his shirt to keep a proper hold to avoid falling. His full height was more than high enough for me to break a couple limbs if I fell. I, again, tried to slow my breathing.

“This way is west right?” He asked, more quietly this time. I nodded yes then realized he would not be able to see my motions, “Yes, that’s the way.”

As we walked I took note of the human’s point of view, he was high up enough that it would have been impossible for him to have seen Father's camouflaged form. I hadn't even told this human that he killed someone… What was I supposed to say to him,

Hey you murdered my father.

I sighed.

This sucks.

This sucks so much.

It may have been worse to just ignore it, but really, how was I supposed to bring it up. I chuckled at the morbidness of the situation. Maybe I could bring it up once he noticed the large blood stain on the sole of his shoe.

—---------------------------------------

[sexisdisgusting]

Hiii I hope it’s okay if I rant about a male to you but feel free to ignore me if it’s not ^^

So about a year ago I let a male friend live in my tiny, one bedroom apartment with me. He slept in my living room on a mattress I gave him.

He literally trashed my apartment—he left fast food bags, wrappers, cups, dirt, etc. all over my floor; he practically refused to do ANY basic household chores; he brought his other male friends into my home, most of the time without my permission, and played video games loudly in the next room at night while I was trying to sleep.

All I asked of him was $200 a month to help with rent, groceries, & the utility bill. This fucking asshole couldn’t even scrape up that much money when he had absolutely no other financial obligations. I worked full-time, 40 hours a week while he worked 10, sometimes 15 hours a week. And I still had to do all the chores if I didn’t want my apartment looking & smelling like an absolute pigsty 24/7. He was fully able-bodied btw and there was no reason he couldn’t get a full-time job like a big boy or at least do basic chores.

Instead he stayed home, watched TV, and played video games all day long while dirtying up my house, running up my utility bill almost three times as much as it was without him there, and eating all the food I bought with my own money.

Not to mention he litERALLY BROUGHT FUCKING BED BUGS INTO MY HOME MAKING ME HAVE TO THROW AWAY MY ENTIRE BED AND BUY A WHOLE NEW ONE. FUCK.

Thankfully this is the closest I’ll ever get to having a man-child husband as I’m a lesbian, but the experience was more than enough for me. I kicked his ass out but not after enduring his shit for a few months.

I feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I am known by most people as a tough, strong-willed woman who doesn’t take shit from anyone, especially men, but somehow I let this male walk all over me bc I cared about him.

And it was easier for me to get rid of him than it likely is for straight/het-partnered women to get rid of their man-child husbands/boyfriends. I feel for them sometimes, I really do. Some of them are dependent on their husbands/boyfriends in more ways than one, but especially financially.

Well, I will never, ever let a male (aside from my cat) live in my home again. FUCK that.

HIII!! yes of COURSE its okay for you to rant to me about a male, i encourage all my followers to rant to me about the shitty males in their lives!

after reading your entire ask all i can say is... holy fucking shit

why are men so repulsive and dirty, i swear to god its like theyre in a constant state of being mentally two years old, they cannot clean up after themselves, take care of themselves and dont give a fuck about anyone else except themselves, NOT EVEN GIVING A SHIT ABOUT THOSE WHO HELP AND CARE FOR THEM!!!!

listen, you have no reason to be ashamed of yourself, if anything it shows that youre a good person, and friend, youre kind and thats a terrific trait to have

unfortunately someone took your kindness for granted, and im proud of you for sticking up for yourself and kicking his dumbass out

i love you so much anon, i hope youre doing okay now !! <3

[simp999]

A New Home Ch. 24

Various! Splatoon manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader

Wc: 1.4k

A/N: Yippe soft wholesome team moments to put you guys in a better mood so that you don't claw my head off for not updating :thumbsup:

Back to the Start! Previous Next

"My team never goes easy on anyone. I'm not really able to speak up about it either." 

He only spoke with a small voice, but he seemed completely genuine. 

"I saw you in the crowd watching the match. The S4's well known, right? I feel bad on behalf of my team for-"

"-Straight up embarrassing them? Yeah. It's not like they played well together either way…your team sure is something else, though." 

You see that he's twiddling his thumbs, he's probably nervous about speaking up without his brother around. What an ass of a brother.

"Well, you should probably get going, we wouldn't want you getting in any trouble with your team."

He hesitantly nods before getting up and walking away to find them.

'I need to find a new way to defeat team Emperor. Prince is a good kid with a big heart, there's no doubt about it. It'd be wrong to pinpoint him in battle.'

You lean back and sway your feet back and forth in thought. How are you gonna go about this? Who should you focus on taking down first?

Maybe Edging Jr.?

‘He’s confident. Almost too confident, but his skill backs it up. But if we can get rid of the most agile player, even for a bit, that’s probably our best way to get an advantage. Then, of course, we need to take out their respawn anchor- the sniper. Emperor’s a powerhouse on his own, if we even want a chance at taking him down, we need at least a 3v1.’

‘Distractions. We need distractions.’

Ugh. This is too much thinking after such a long day. You’ll figure out more tomorrow.

You pick up your bag and make your way home for the night. Tomorrow, you’re back on the battlefield. It’s not like it’ll be any tougher than the past battles, though.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You wake up with a small stretch, and realize that you must have fallen asleep on the couch.

One of Milo’s blankets falls from the couch to the floor. Or maybe you didn’t even make it that far before falling asleep.

You rub your eyes and sit up, checking to see if your phone is on the side table. It’s plugged in, and a glass of inkling-safe water is sitting next to it. A small smile makes its way onto your face before you take a swig, and check your phone for the time. 9 am. It looks like to you got to sleep in a bit. You hear some plates clatter in the kitchen, and soon you notice the smell of pancakes. You’re surprised you didn’t notice it before. Milo comes into the living room with gentle footsteps, but pauses once he sees you sitting up.

“Oh, did I wake you? Breakfast is ready if you’re hungry. I’ll go get Leo.”

He turns back around and his footsteps are louder, he must have been trying to be quiet for your sake. How sweet. You make your way over to a chair in the kitchen and sit for a second. Hey, it’s hard to eat as soon as you wake up sometimes, alright?

Tasha was making her plate at the counter, she must have been helping Milo. She makes her through the line of food- pancakes, strawberries, banana slices, blueberries, and any other foods that could be added- before pausing for a moment. Leo slowly walks in, covered with a blanket. He would have stumbled into the nearest chair had Milo not been following behind him. You quietly chuckle to yourself as Leo is about to take a seat, but Milo steals his blanket.

“Hey-”

“You are not,-” Milo absentmindedly folds the blanket before throwing it on the couch, “-getting your blanket full of syrup.” Leo grumbles and he sits criss-cross on his chair. He never did like sitting properly. He’s almost fully settled but after scanning the table, it seems something’s missing. He’s about to get back up, but Milo places a plate with a few pancakes and the jar of Nutella in front of him. As he walks away, he gently brushes his hand over Leo’s shoulder, “Don’t stuff your face too fast. We don’t want you choking again.” 

Milo’s quick to make his plate and make it to the end of the counter where Tasha is. You can’t hear their hushed conversation over the sound of Leo chomping away beside you. You can only make out the last bit of what Milo’s saying; “It’s up to you, you know. There’s no pressure.”  He rubs a gentle circle over Tasha’s back before making his way over to the table, plate in hand.

Tasha slowly follows behind and takes her seat across from you. That’s odd, she usually goes to eat alone in her room, or in the living room if you’re lucky. Milo pours Leo a glass of juice and pushes it over to him, and you’re not sure if Leo thanked him, but you’ll assume that’s what he said with his mouth full. 

You’re halfway through your meal before Tasha finally decides to lean forward and eat. She reaches up for her mask and hesitates, glancing over at Milo, probably for reassurance. You look down to focus on your meal out of respect, but you can see her hand carefully place her mask on the table in your peripheral view. You realize that you didn’t bring your water over from the couch, so you reach for whatever beverage there is available in front of you to fill up the empty glass that Milo had put there previously. As you go to grab it, you finally get a good view of Tasha’s full face. She pays no attention to you, or anything else besides her meal.

There are two vertical scars that drag across the left side of her lips, one longer than the other. They look quite old. On the other side of her lips, she has two piercings next to each other. Spider bite piercings, if you remember correctly. Pretty. You didn’t dare to bring it up, you trusted that she’d say something if she felt comfortable enough to. After all, this is already a big step for her. You silently appreciate her new level of trust, and finish your breakfast without another word. Until Leo speaks up, asking about the next match.

“It’s on at 3- Kelp Dome. We’re lucky it’s air-conditionned with how hot it is outside.”

He gives a nod as he exaggeratedly gets up from his chair and makes his way over to the living room. Before he can walk through the passageway from one room to the other, Milo loudly clears his throat and raises a brow. Leo pauses and drags himself back over to the table to grab his plate, and brings it to the counter. He’s about to rush off again but Milo cuts him off for a second time.

“Leo.”

With a quiet groan, he picks up his plate and puts it in the dishwasher. Finally, he leaves and turns on his switch in the living room, while Milo stays at the table, gently shaking his head. “Kid never learns.” He’s finished his meal, and Tasha’s nearly done hers, so you get up with your plate and pick up his while you’re walking by. You put both plates in the dishwasher, then follow Leo to the living room where he’s already in the middle of a race. You lay down in his lap, and turned to face the tv.

“Take the shortcut.”

“What shortcut?”

“Riiiight,-” You lazily bring your arm up to point to the right side of the screen, “-there”

“...oh.”

“...next time around, then.”

Time seems to go by quickly as you play on your phone or watch Leo game, and it’s already almost time to leave for your battle. You still have more than enough time, but you’d rather be early and prepared, along with being in the right mindset for battle. Tasha’s already beat you to it, calling out for everybody to get ready to leave, with her weapon in hand.

You, Milo and Tasha are at the door while you wait for Leo to finish finding his hoodie. He nearly trips as he runs to the front door, one arm inside the hoodie sleeve, but you catch him in time. Milo hands him his dualies, and you’re off to the square.

Next Part

July.5.23

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

A marriage ends - chapter three

Note: so this is the final chapter of my series. I’ll let you know that this one is filled with angst like the rest, and it acts as a conclusion to the story. I hope you enjoyed this series and thank you for reading it! 💜;

Pair: Albert Wesker x F!Reader;

Tags: angst;

Ko-fi: if you want to support or commission me, you can find more details on my ko-fi page, or you can just DM me. Thank you 💜.

Chapter one || Chapter two

To a certain degree, the aftermath of the affair left both of you scarred.

Seeing the fragile state of Wesker, you told Chris it was best to leave you two alone. He left the apartment quietly, with a sour taste in his mouth.

You were sitting in the bed, fully dressed, waiting for Wesker to come out of the bathroom. Every second that passed in that awful silence prolonged your anxiety and guilt. You were left alone with your thoughts, which became harder to endure.

When he came out, the sound of the front door being closed could be heard faintly in the background. The thought of being alone with you brought him some ease, but not enough to mask his feelings.

“I told him to leave us alone.” You said, noticing his exhausted state.

“I see.” He didn’t look at you. Instead, he was focused on putting his shirt on.

“Maybe this is the moment where we talk about us?”

“Sweetheart, we didn’t talk about us our whole marriage; why talk about it now? I believe everything was said through actions.” Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was the sadness, but he found your proposal quite amusing. Besides, he had a point.

“I can’t argue with that. So what now?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he opened the closet and pulled out a travel bag.

"Albert, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He began to carefully pack some of his clothes. From costumes to socks, he carefully placed them inside the bag.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know what I expected. As you said, we haven’t talked during our marriage. Why talk now?” A slight feeling of anger pierced through your heart.

"Ok, fine, what do you want to talk about?” He stood up and looked at you, noticing that you were irritated. “How have you cheated on me? How have we both let this marriage fail?” He raised his voice.

“ Yes! Anything works, let’s talk about anything for goddamn once!”

“Alright then, I was a fool for not only not acting sooner but for also not realizing what kind of woman you are. Maybe it’s better I didn’t do a thing; at least now I know who you really are!”

"Who am I really?"”

“Yes, a fucking cheater!”

"No, honey, no, I’ll tell you what kind of woman I am—one that put up with all your bullshit and was there for you no matter what. I tried to talk with you to make you open up to me, but every goddamn time you’ll take a step back and shut down emotionally. I’m grateful for your support, but in our ten years of marriage, I never really felt you close to me. You never let me know, in any way, that you were there for me.”

“Then why the fuck did you marry me?”

“I was naive; I thought you’d change.”

“So I’m always the problem, as usual. You know what? I don’t have energy for this.” He said as he continued to put clothes in his bag, this time in a sleazy way.

“Fine, just do what you always do! Abandon me, shut me down, and go bury yourself in more paperwork!”

“Maybe that’s what I’ll do! Meanwhile, you can call Chris to finish what you started!”

“Maybe I will! At least he listens to me!”

You burst into tears and looked away. All you could do was helplessly stay in bed and hear your husband packing his stuff.

“What about the apartment?” You said it between sobs.

“You can have it.” He said it in an emotionless tone.

“I was thinking you can have it, you know, after all that happened…” You wanted to give him everything, just to be able to get rid of some of the guilt.

“Why would I want to live in the apartment where my wife cheated on me?”

From a logical point of view, he was right. Even if he had his share of guilt, he didn’t have to sleep in the same bed in which you cheated on him. What surprised you is how easily he gave up on your shared home. Or how apparently easy it was, since it was a hard decision for him too, but he made up his mind about it a long time ago. You couldn’t really tell what he was feeling, since he never talked about it.

“You’re right; I’m sorry.”

This was painful for you too, as you’d had to live in this home among the good memories you made with Wesker throughout the years. Despite these setbacks, it was a good marriage. Why did it have to end like this? Why did you two let it ruin in such a way?

The sound of the zipper and the rustling of clothes was heard in the room for a while, until Wesker asked another hurtful question.

“Tell me, y/n, did Chris wear any of my clothes?”

“No, I’m not that cruel.”

“Thank you.”

With a weary heart, he closed the bag and tossed it over his shoulder.

“None of us is capable of making any rational decisions now.” He said as he approached you, stopping at the edge of the bed. “One of my lawyers will probably contact you in the following days.” He said it in such a cold tone, but again, it was the tone you were used to.

From outside, it seemed like he didn’t care about the crying woman who was sitting in the bed, one whose world was slowly falling apart. He remained stiff, with a blank expression on his face. But if someone could see inside Wesker’s heart, they could see that it was bleeding, for it was being torn apart by sorrow and resentment.

Feeling like he couldn’t stay any longer, he turned around and left. Every muscle in his body ached as he wanted to comfort you, maybe to do the thing he failed at during your marriage, which was to show you that he could be there for you emotionally. However, he knew it was too late. With a quick pace, he headed out of the apartment, closing the front door loudly. In that silence, only your sobs could be heard as you were left alone with your thoughts again. They began to torment you instantly, not allowing you a single moment of peace.

They loved each other, but it couldn’t go on like this. She failed to see into his heart, and he failed to understand her needs. He loved his wife so much that he wanted to have her one more time before giving her to the other man. At the end, he wishes both of them a happy life together. Now all that remains is to figure out what’s going to happen in its own.

Taglist: @shadow-wolf510 @cassie-todd @ravenrune

[fictional-love-is-my-life]

Hello, you can make stratosphere, bulldog, jetfire, sentinel prime and medic reader

Altform is a helicopter

How would they thank the reader for their help when they were injured (or get rid of something)

Stratosphere - gets injured while flying

Jetfire - (reader) helps him with his aching body (for example for 3-7 days?)

Bulldog - (reader) helps to forever get rid of the fact that he sometimes falls apart? (if you can call it that)

Sentinel prime - (reader) helps with his bad leg (I’m not sure if this is accurate, but I read somewhere that he has limp on 1 leg)

(I tried to find a more normal image but it didn't work.)

Decided to turn this into a little oneshot.

Warnings: Mention of injury, pain, medics, doctors, memory loss, old age, hinting of death.

Word count: 2,494. Under read more for length.

The sky was still dark, in a few of Earths hours the sun would be rising. Hopefully by then you would be beside your first patient. You stretched, it was going to be a long week of tending to your rounds, but it was necessary. The place you called home, and where you tried to spend your nights, was a middle point between all the bots that needed you. You had recharged and was fully rested for you journey.

You jumped into the air, transforming into your alt mode of choice, a helicopter as the humans called it. It was perfect for you to get around quickly, allowing you to reach many mechs within a short time span. Being one of the only medics left you took it upon yourself to be there for the remaining Autobots, especially the older mechs. They needed you the most, more than the younger bots.

It wasn’t long before you got to your first stop.

Stratosphere was sitting atop a hill, his usual location to rest. If he had to be on the ground, he liked to be up high. You transformed in the air, elegantly dropping to the ground.

“Hello Stratosphere.” You greeted, walking over to the mech.

“Good morning, Lass. how are you doing on this fine day?”

“Busy, but when am I not.” You joked. You scanned over his frame, and noticed he was hiding his arm behind his back. Your scan alerted you something was wrong with his arm. “Show me.” You ordered.

“It’s not too bad, really.” Stratosphere started to say, but you cut him off. Reluctantly he pulled his arm out from behind him, showing you the damage. His forearm metal was bent and a few of his digits were broken.

“Oh Sphere.” You gently took his servo in yours and examined the damage. Though it looked ugly, it would be an easy fix.

“Just a little mishap when landing, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

“You will be now. I can fix the majority of it, then your inner healing will do the rest. But you need to stay grounded for two days, no transforming or flying until it is fully healed.” You expressed.

“I knew you’d say that.” Stratosphere grumbled, annoyed. He only wanted to fly, and knew you’d tell him not to.

“Be grateful it’s only two days. If I wasn’t here, it would not have been able to heal itself properly and would have gotten worse. Then you’d never be able to fly.” You explained, trying to quickly finish his repairs.

Stratosphere sighed. You were right, he just hated that you were. He was quiet the rest of the time you worked. Finally, you were done. You stood and pulled a small amount of Energon from your supplies. You always carried some around for bots. You handed it to Stratosphere. He took the Energon and placed it down beside him.

“Alright buddy. Be careful, and I’ll come back to check on you again as soon as I can.”

“Wait.” Stratosphere called, stopping you before you left. “I just want to say, thanks lass. I know I’m a stubborn old mech, but I love flying. I know I don’t have long left until I can’t anymore. I can feel my joints and I know they won’t last, so I want to try and keep flying for as long as I can. But I appreciate you helping me out, thank you for all you do for me.”

You knelt beside him once more, placing a servo on his shoulder. He placed his servo atop yours.

“I know. That’s why I am here, to help you and keep you in the skies for as long as I can.” You smiled sweetly.

“Thank you.” Stratosphere felt extremely lucky and grateful to have you helping him. As much as he grumbled about it, he needed your aid and was so happy you always came back to help him.

“I’ll be back soon.” You repeated.

“No rush lassie. I’ll be here for the next few days.”

You jumped into the air, transforming, and headed to your next patient.

Jetfire was laying down in the desert, his body slightly sunken into the sand. You transformed and landed beside him, your pedes burring into the soft sand.

“You doing okay Jetfire?” You asked, giving him a scan. His body was still deteriorating, there was no way for you to stop it, unfortunately it was just caused by age.

“No, I’m bloody not okay. My blooming backs gone out and I’ve been stuck like this for days.” Jetfire groaned.

“Alright, let’s see what we can do.” You knelt beside him and began scooping the sand away from him. Once there was a gap between the sand and Jetfire, you gently pushed your servo into the gap and against his back. You moved your servo around, feeling along his back. “Looks like it locked up. Easy fix.”

You gave a little tug, pull and twist, resulting in a pop then hiss. Jetfire sighed happily, then sat up, your servo still on his back helping him up.

“That feels so much better. Thank you.” Jetfire patted your leg.

“Anytime. I am here to help.” You dug through your Energon supply and pulled out a special one. “Here.”

Jetfire took the Energon and immediately began to consume it. You had formulated the Energon yourself, taking the original form then adding your own special ingredients to it. The new formula was perfect for older bots as it helped soothe and relieve pain and help strengthen weak joints.

“Would you like to try and stand? It would be a good idea to get moving.” You asked.

“If the doctor suggests it, then I guess I should.”

You slowly helped him up, his body creaking the entire time. Once he was standing, he let go of you and rested on his cane.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” Jetfire stated.

“I’m sure you’d be alright.”

“I’d probably be gone already.” He stated blatantly.

“Don’t say that. You’re doing great, you still have a long time yet.”

“A long time of achy joints and falling pieces.”

“Well, that is why I am here. To help with the pain.” You paused, thinking for a second. “You know, I’d really like you to move. Come and live with me, I’d be able to take care of you a lot more often.” Jetfire stared at you for a second, thinking of your offer.

“Well, it would be nice to have the company. But as much as I would like to, I don’t think I can. That’s why I’m still stuck in this barren desert. I feel like my T-Cog is rusted, and my spacebridge doesn’t want to work.”

“Just try and transform. I’ll be here if anything goes wrong, but from my scans you T-Cog is still functioning.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t get sick of taking care of me?”

“No.” You replied. “It’s my job, it’s what I like to do. And you are my friend, I want to look after you.”

Jetfire was flattered at the offer, and grateful to have a friend like you.

“Alright, I will try. But I’m blaming you if I get stuck.” You giggled and accepted the blame if anything were to happen.

Hesitantly Jetfire transformed. It took him a while, but soon enough he was in jet mode.

“Would you like an escort, or do you think you can find your way alone if I give you a location?”

“Juist give me the damn coordinates. I may be old, but I am not incompetent.”

“I never thought you were.” You sent him the coordinates over the personal comm link. “Be careful and call if you need me.”

Jetfire started his engine, but didn’t leave.

“Thank you, doc. I am eternally grateful.” You nodded at him in reply.

Jetfire took off, you transformed and flew into the sky shortly after but left in a different direction. You flew for a couple hours before reaching your third bot. You reached an abandoned lot. A large warehouse sat in the middle of the lot. You landed on the roof of the warehouse then transformed. You swiftly walked to the edge and jumped off the roof, finding a way inside. Sentinel sat inside of the warehouse, his back against a wall.

He looked up and watched you walk towards him. He was glad it was you and no one else, out of all the bots you were his favorite, mostly because you were useful.

“I was expecting you earlier. I almost left because you were late.” Sentinel snapped. It didn’t bother you; he was in pain and it was his personality. You were used to bots snapping at you, it always just rolled off your shoulders.

“I apologize, but I have a few other rounds before you and they aren’t all in the same place.” You explained. You scanned Sentinel, apart from his leg he was in perfect health. He just had an old injury that refused to heal properly. You always just mitigated the pain as best you could until he had another flare up. You knelt down beside him, handing him some Energon to consume while you worked on his leg.

“This would be easier if you just stayed with me.” Sentinel grumbled.

“I know. But I can’t do that, there are a lot of other bots out there that need me. And like you, many of them don’t want to move. So, I have to go to them.” You worked on his leg, relieving the pain as best you could, trying to fix his old wound but it never properly healed no matter how hard you tried. “How does that feel?” You asked.

“Better.” Sentinel finished his Energon. “Thank you.” He mumbled.

“You are welcome.” You didn’t expect thanks from Sentinel but it was nice to receive them.

“I know you don’t have to help me. But you choose to, and even though you are late you always come back to help me. And I thank you for your loyalty.” Sentinel liked you because of your usefulness to him, but he did also think you were generally a good and nice bot. He liked how efficient and kind you were when caring for him, you also never judged him or thought ill of him which he appreciated. “Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you for trusting me and for using my services.” You smiled. You were just happy to be of use. Sentinel stood, putting weight on his leg. His pain had subsided and he was able to step comfortably on it.

“Feels like it should.”

“Good. And don’t be afraid to contact me outside of our appointed meet up times. If you need my assistance any time, I can come help. As long as I am not busy.” You told Sentinel. If he was hurting, you wanted to be there for him.

“I will.” He nodded. “Now I need to take my leave.”

“Stay safe.” You called after Sentinel as he transformed and drove away.

The sun had set, leaving you in darkness. You stretched out your limbs, feeling a satisfying pop from your back. Your last patient was a long way away. You were comfortable with the journey, as you had done it so many times, but occasionally it was tiring. You shook yourself, making sure you were completely awake and alert before taking off.

Your last stop took you across the ocean, a long journey but you knew it was necessary. Eventually you made it to your destination, landing on the gravel outside of a large old house. A tank was sitting outside it. The tank spotted you and began turning its gun towards you. You quickly transformed and held your servos up.

“Medic!” You yelled out. “I’m a medic, Bulldog, here to help you.”

Your words calmed Bulldog; it took him a few seconds but he eventually realized who you were. He transformed, his joints popping and crackling as he did. The armor atop his helm falling off.

“Ah, good to see you friend. It’s nice to have you here.”

“It’s nice to see you too.” You smiled. “Here let me take that.”

You took the top of his helm and motioned for him to sit down. Once he was seated, you equipped your welder and began to weld his armor back to the top of his helm. You were quick and efficient, making sure it would not fall off again.

You liked Bulldog, he was a sweet mech. You hated that you could not cure his memory loss, but you would do everything else you could for him. During all the times you had been helping him, you had reattached many of his parts and he was always grateful each time.

“There we go friend, all better.”

“Thank you.”

Bulldog stayed seated; you took a seat beside him. You scanned over his frame, but there were no other issues you needed to fix, at least not at that time. Out of all the mechs, Bulldog was the oldest and the one who needed the most attention. You wanted him to come live with you, but he had a loyalty to his home which you respected, so you just checked on him often.

He didn’t need any other fixes, but you stayed by his side wanting to give him your company for at least a day, or maybe two.

“Tell me about your day friend.” You asked.

Bulldog began to talk, and once you got him talking, he didn’t stop. But you sat and listened happily. Enjoying his stories, and glad you were able to be there for him.

Bulldog always remembered you. Maybe it took him a second, but he always did. You were kind and gentle with him. You fixed him up and gave him company. In his eyes you were his best friend and his best medic, and he treasured you. He looked forward to when you arrived.

You were glad you were a medic, able to help the old mechs. Even if you weren’t you think you would try to spend time with them anyway. They needed support, and you were so happy to be the one to give it to them. You were happy to be their support, their company and their fix.

You dug into your supply and pulled out more Energon, handing it to Bulldog.

“Thank you.” He took it gratefully.

“You are welcome.”

You leant back, enjoying Bulldogs company. You knew you’d have to leave and go back home eventually. Then you’d have to start your rounds over again once more and spend time with all the old mechs again. You always looked forward to your rounds, so happy you could help. But for the next day, you stayed put, giving yourself rest before flying the long journey back home, and staying beside your friend Bulldog.

[station-aspenville]

chapter 7.

Alistair has remained radio silent for the following three weeks. It’s been his longest absence, from what I can recall. After the events from the end of his latest audition - which still figured as an unsolved mystery to  me - I’ve slowly begun to realize that my dear friend may as well not be with us anymore. As much as I wanted to just accept this fact and move on with my life, without his weekly auditions, I felt like some inherent part of it suddenly went missing. This feeling was irrational; I was aware of that. I never knew this kid. He wasn’t even an actual person to me - just a voice on the radio. I never wanted to get in any way attached to Alistair (or rather my idea of him), and yet I did. 

With no longer feeling the presence of Alistair in my life, I’ve begun to feel isolated, pointless and terribly bored. Was I really this lonely all this time without even realizing?

With all these complicated emotions building up within me regarding his absence, one could only imagine the relief that graced me once, upon deciding to check the radio, with no particular expectations, on a December evening, I was lucky enough to hear a familiar voice.

- Hello, listeners… - he seemed uncertain, but not in the same terrifying way as the previous time I heard from him, rather an awkward but joyful one - It’s been a while since we last spoke, hasn’t it? I’m so deeply sorry for leaving you so suddenly, I just… - he seemed to be struggling to gather his thoughts - it’s been a lot for me to deal with lately…

I felt the subtle change in his tone and immediately knew that what I’m about to hear is not going to be pleasant.

- He’s dead. - Alistair stated. He was close to yelling, not out of anger, but rather as if every single emotion he’s been holding in for the past three weeks, desperately seeked to get out - He isn’t with us anymore… - with every word his breath kept getting shorter and his voice kept rising, becoming more and more squeaky, but he did not cry - I… I promised to protect him. The day we left our old house and headed to the station, I hugged him and told him that everything will be alright. That I’ll make it alright. I’ve sworn for my life that I’ll keep him safe no matter the circumstances and then… - the struggle in his voice was overbearing - I… - he took a deep breath - Three weeks ago I buried him with my bare hands.

Alistair took several deep breaths and cleared his throat before continuing. I imagined him shivering.

- I hate Virgil Montgomery… - he went on and his voice all of a sudden became so cold that I could feel the atmosphere freezing around me - I despise that man with every last bone left in my body. In fact, it has been over a year since the last time I felt so repulsed by a person. And yet… yet I decided to take his advice. I got rid of my sunflowers. I’ve thorn them off the ground with no mercy and every last bit of frustration and helplessness I have ever felt, combined in one simple act of cruelty. The sad truth is that I didn’t even do it out of fear. I couldn’t care less whether they're dangerous and can possibly bring doom to the last place I have left to call home. I simply couldn’t stand seeing them anymore. Ever since that incident, I will never be able to view them the same. All I could see every time I laid my eyes upon my garden was my brother's lifeless body lying mutilated on the pile of the flowers, once so dear to me. And the soulless gaze of the creature responsible for this masacre. Its long limbs and hands fully covered in Neil’s blood to the point of it being impossible to tell what colour they were under the thick layer of deep crimson. In this state it was hard to determine which one of them looked more human. Listeners, you could have never imagined how terrifying this is… - I could hear him breathing heavily, his voice became more quiet, likely in order to hide his desperate attempt at holding tears back. Moments like this one always struck me as both intriguing and uncomfortable, as they reminded me that Alistair is, in fact, only a kid; an incredibly lost, human boy with blood, skin, tears and emotions just as real as mine. He was just as afraid as I was, as afraid as all of us - I used to sympathise with the Strangers; or at least I tried my best to do so - he continued - Virgil never approved of this approach of mine. I believed that somewhere deep inside they too are people, just in a different way than we are. Therefore I hoped to one day understand them. Was this foolish of me? Perhaps. Probably. I don’t know. I used to think that I knew a lot. Now, I’m not so sure anymore. When I began my work with Virgil I suddenly felt as if some secret gateway of knowledge had just opened before me. I felt like I have been given an opportunity to discover the true nature of this world and all of its secrets in order to understand what is happening around me. I thought I can learn everything if I only put my mind into it, but the more I learn the less sure of anything I become. Whenever I was “helping” my father with his work around the laboratory, I was only allowed to spectate and by all means necessary remain quiet and refrain from touching anything that looked in any way valuable. Now that I am finally able to get some hands-on experience instead of just reading books, what’s the use of it if I can’t even be certain whether any of this is actually true? I can’t trust anyone. I can’t trust Virgil, I can’t trust the Strangers and frankly, I cannot even fully trust myself. After the Calamity began and Strangers took over my hometown, my family was one of the very few connections I had to this world. Now everything I have left is this radio station. This is in part why I decided to return, I didn’t want to go insane…

Alistair paused his speech and the silence which came with it couldn’t get any more overwhelming.

- Three weeks ago I lost my last living relative… - his voice was bitter and freezing cold - He now lies six feet under, near our old treehouse, covered in dirt and a thin layer of snow which fell today’s morning. I think it was six feet, I really had no way of knowing. Besides, making his grave - if you can even call it that - an appropriate depth wasn’t necessarily one of my concerns at that time. I can still feel his blood on my hands. It’s everywhere; in between my fingers and under my fingernails. I can feel its sticky texture leaving marks on everything I touch and its repulsive metallic smell following me like a curse. No matter how many times I wash my hands, I can never wash it off. I hate myself for not being able to give him a proper burial. I couldn’t even find the right flowers to put on his “grave”. In my family, we always used to put white lilies on our relatives' graves to symbolise purity and a peaceful new beginning in the afterlife (not like either one of my parents even actually believed in such a thing), but now, in the dead of winter, nothing can possibly bloom. The only flowers I could access here at the radio station are those godforsaken daffodils, which for some bizarre reason decided not to obey the laws of nature. I kept those tiny inconspicuous spawns of the devil in order to study them, but for reasons I cannot comprehend, looking at them or even thinking about them fills me with an indefinable sense of resentment. Well… now that I think about it, there is also one more species of flowers which somehow manages to survive under these conditions - sunflowers. But no, I can’t risk having them here; not after what happened.  Ever since that incident sunflowers have been utterly repulsing to me, however, I cannot say that I detest them now. In fact, it is the opposite. However messed up wouldn’t it be, I still love them dearly. Isn’t it just the worst, listeners? To love something inherently poisonous… If there is one thing I could ask of you, if by any chance you happen to one day stumble upon my dead body, here in this disaster of a town, and for some unknown reason decide to bury me (maybe out of respect, maybe out of pity…); please, put sunflowers on my grave. For all I care, you can even bury me in a field of them; make me become one with it, I would be delighted. … I have been thinking about death a lot recently…

I think it’s safe to say we all have been. Especially those who’ve had the misfortune of experiencing a horrific loss, similarly to Alistair. With all of the empathy I have for him regarding his difficult situation, I have to admit that, sadly, incidents like this one aren’t anything uncommon nowadays. Alistair should know it better than anyone else. After all, he has already lost both of his parents to the Calamity.

- I hate Virgil - he sighed breaking the silence, which I have hardly even noticed, being too caught up in my own thoughts - My mom had a habit of saying that “hate” is a strong word, therefore I should use it wisely, however I don’t believe I have a reason to care about this sort of things anymore. For all I know, I can’t even be sure whether anyone can hear me right now. I hate Virgil Montgomery. I cannot stand the sound of his voice nor his manner of speaking. I despise him prioritising work above all else. In fact, if it wasn’t for this approach of him, if it wasn’t for him needing me to stay focused, I wouldn’t have…

Alistair paused as if he wasn’t able to get his words out.

- I hate him. After the accident he kept trying to convince me that he understands what I’m going through. No, he doesn’t. He could never. “I get how you feel, Alistair. I too have lost someone dear to me, when I was younger.” Yeah? Then please, tell me about it? You wouldn’t. Of course, you wouldn’t. Because you never say anything that actually matters. In all of your attempts to form a connection with me, you say a lot of things, but none of them have any real meaning to them. It’s almost as if you don’t actually care… - he was close to tears - After a while of this bullshit, I figured out that this is just his way of trying to persuade me. He wants to seem more “relatable” to me, in order to win over my trust. In whole honesty, I think that what he’s achieving by those measures might be the complete opposite. He’s only pushing  me away. The truth is, I’m scared of Virgil. I’m scared of his mind. The monotone, soulless tone of his voice gives me shivers every time I hear it. Once the two of us started working together, I was too stupid and way too naive to realise how manic he could be when it comes to certain topics. I was looking up to him and way too fixated on proving myself as a worthy co-researcher, which inevitably made me blind. I failed to notice any of his flaws. Virgil is obsessive. When most of us have been losing sleep out of anxiety and fear for whether we’re going to live to see another day, he has been losing sleep over his work. Virgil seemed excited about every new thing he discovered, to the point where it became nearly uncanny. Almost as if he treated the Calamity as a brand new opportunity to prove his greatness. Was this fun for you, Virgil Montgomery? - he raised his voice - Was any of this fun for you?!

Alistair took a few shallow breaths and then a deeper one, before he spoke again. I believe this might’ve been the first time, when I had not a single clue what could possibly be going inside of his mind.

- I hate it. I hate that what became a tragedy to me is a mere intrigue to him. Does this man even have a heart?  I hate this. I hate all of this, and it is why this very morning I decided to quit my work with Virgil once and for all.

As I have already mentioned before, I could never know what actually happened between Alistair and Virgil. I had no first hand account on my own and all I could rely on was Alistair’s word. It would be easier to believe in everything he says and stand faithfully on his side, but some rational part of me couldn’t help but wonder whether there’s something more I should know to make a proper judgment. Alistair seemed to be keeping things unnecessarily vague and I could only speculate on his reason for doing so. Neither of the sides has struck me as particularly genuine and one of them kept awfully quiet so far.

- Oh, listeners - the boy said after a minute of awkward silence - was I wrong for doing so? On one hand I think that cutting my ties with him once and forever was probably the best thing I could’ve done in this place, yet simultaneously I can't help but feel unreasonably guilty about it. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to judge him. Perhaps I should’ve given him more time to actually consider his side of the story. Maybe he was right. After all, all that happened was, at the end of the day, my fault, wouldn’t it be irrational not to trust him while I’m still somehow able to trust myself… … I think I’m going to give him a call after the broadcast is over. This actually reminds me, it’s getting late and I have been rambling for a while. It turns out that I actually missed talking to you a lot (no matter if you actually exist or not), but for now, I think I should just try to relax and finally get some sleep, it has been a long day. Goodnight, Aspenville!

Goodnight, Alistair. It was nice hearing from you again.