#to me ever again. i keep asking myself how difficult it would have been for kiryu to just pop in by the hospital every now and then to check

[dirt-str1der]

I literally had a dream about reading the worst fan fiction like fucking ever kiryu was just randomly a yandere and nishiki was trying his best to survive also kiryu turned into a dragon (deez nuts) halfway and let nishiki kill him for being a bad boy but he was so upset about having to kill his bro that he just lay in the corpse for a bit and thats when i decided to stop reading and i literally opened tumblr in my dream to complain about how bad it was like the writing went back and forth from being terrible to incredible and i found myself enjoying some parts and despising others. I skipped the first few chapters so i had to tab back out and read the summary like why are they in a beach resort and the summary didnt just tell me nothing but it was also double spaced between each line and very fucking irritating and while reading it i kept thinking this is extremely ooc and boring like they would not fucking say that

[apomaro-mellow]

His Love Makes Me Beautiful

some a/b/o fluff

Steve knew he was handsome. He knew he was good looking. He'd been told so all his life in many different ways, so visually he was never lacking in confidence. But that confidence had a different flavor when he started being with Eddie. Eddie didn't look at him just like he was a ten out of ten. Eddie looked at him like he was the only man in the world.

He loved Steve with such adoration that it bordered on worship and at first Steve thought it too much but now he basked in it. And if it bordered on worship before, now that he was pregnant Steve felt like Eddie was literally sending up prayers to him.

"Hey there, baby", Eddie pecked Steve's lips as he came into the kitchen. "And hello little baby." He knelt down and kissed Steve's belly three times.

"I think you've increased your knee-dropping by 75% since you knocked me up", Steve smiled as he opened up the cabinet to pull out some syrup.

"You know I can't resist prostrating myself at your altar." Eddie glued himself to Steve's back, taking in a whiff of his sweet vanilla scent that was mingling with the pancakes he was dressing up. "Speaking of..." He turned Steve around lowered down to the ground again.

"Eddie, it's 7 in the morning."

"Curse you for turning me into a morning person", Eddie said in between kissing Steve's thighs where his shorts stopped.

"Don't you want breakfast first?", Steve asked, his hands braced against the counter.

"I'll have whatever they're serving right here." Eddie put one of Steve's legs over his shoulder and mouthed at his crotch which was already wet from Steve.

It didn't stop there. As Steve got bigger, Eddie did whatever he could to make him comfortable. And for once, Steve thought there might be a point where he got insecure about his appearance. He thought that as he started growing out of his clothes and gaining weight that he might begin to feel like he wasn't attractive anymore.

Eddie never let that happen. He still touched him the same way and just as much. Honestly sometimes it seemed that the pregnancy just turned Eddie on more. Steve didn't believe the whole 'alphas go crazy horny over their pregnant omegas' thing until he saw it in action with Eddie. He would go from lovingly rubbing his belly to tantalizingly drifting his hands down.

The alpha found it difficult to keep his hands to himself before all this. Now it was damn near impossible. Eddie wasn't kidding when he compared Steve's body to an altar. He was a regular patron to the Temple of Steve and considered himself honored to pay his respects.

Eddie watched as Steve's face contorted in pleasure while he fucked into him. Hands gripping the sheets and lips parted in a continuous moan, slick dripping down where their bodies met. Steve's stomach was covered in bite marks and sat roundly between them. Eddie felt like he was making love to a fucking fertility god and he simply the mortal blessed with the privilege.

At seven months pregnant, Steve would look at himself in the mirror, feeling so many things. The love he felt for his unborn pup was there the minute he confirmed it with a test. The ever-present confidence in his appearance was always there too. But he didn't just think he looked good. He felt beautiful because Eddie made him feel beautiful. And every time he looked at his baby bump, he thought about Eddie and his love, and how he literally had the physical proof of it, carried it around with him every day.

They scented each other, shared matching bond bites, and now soon there would be a walking, talking reflection of their love. The affection they had for each other, given life. And Steve couldn't wait to meet them.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Cold as ice II

a/n because why not take an opportunity to cry some more. I am so thankful for all the love honestly! You guys are the best!✨🤍

summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.

This can be read as a standalone but is written as a part two to Cold as ice.

warning: Killing, mentions of multiple death, loosing your kids, supplement use, mention of miscarriage, trauma but I think this is not as bad as the first part lol.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"How is she?", Tommy approached Joel in a tight corridor that was filled with both sobbing people and soldiers shouting. "The same," Joel ran a hand over his face, "They are moving everyone out of here today. To a different quarantine facility." Those words instantly sparked something in Joel. "What? Shit, she's still pumped up with meds", if the process of going there was as torture as it was getting here, you barely stood a chance.

"Joel", Tommy started, but Joel was all up at his face within a heartbeat, "Tommy, if you'll tell me one more fucking time to leave her by. I will blow out your brain's myself". The tone was anything but pleasant. Joel had been wanting to rip someone to pieces for some time now. He had beaten the stranger to a pulp here after the first day. The man was standing in front of the door that led to your room. Crunched down to look through the little window. Joel didn't ask questions; he just swung a punch. Nor did he remember much besides that when Tommy pulled him away, the man was nothing but a pool of blood.

"You know that's not what…", "She lost two kids…", Joel's words cracked mid-sentence as the thought of his two angels once again swirled in his mind. His biggest and most precious little bugs were taken away like that. "So did you, man", Tommy brought Joel closer to him. Joel's arms moved to grip the material of his brother's jacket. He didn't want to cry, but the sob had come out of nowhere. The past three days have been a nightmare and then some. Now Joel was sure that he was paying for all of his sins. Paying in the most brutal ways.

Dragging you away from the field was the second hardest thing Joel ever had to do. He could only pray that his arms would not let him down as he pressed you closer to his body. Joel wasn't sure what they injected into your neck once you reached an army van and practically ripped out the eyes of the soldier who tried to help you into the vehicle, but you collapsed immediately. Joel barely managed to catch you. He pressed your unconscious body against his. Just like he had for the past hour or so. Praying and hoping that you weren't gone. Joel couldn't lose all three of you. Now you were all he had to fight for. No matter how much pain he was in himself. Joel had to drag you both out of the darkness.

Then he sat in the chair next to your bed. If you could even call it that. When they had ushered everyone underground, Joel had bribed a nurse to give you three a room and make sure that a doctor would come to check you. At that time, the price didn't matter. He needed an answer. Needed to know that you were going to wake up. High dose of sedatives - the doctor had said. "But I doubt it'll keep her out for long. After two kids… My apologies. If I'll find any medication", he had placed a supportive palm on Joel's shoulder. Something that would also end up feeling so foreign soon.

If Joel thought seeing you unconscious was difficult, it didn't compare to the heartbreak he had to endure the moment you opened your eyes. You jolted with a gasp. Eyes jumped across the room as you tried to figure out where you were. "Love…", Joel stood up, slowly approaching you. "Sarah… Malakai," you murmured as you continued to look around. "How about a glass of water, huh?", Joel asked, hoping to sway the topic. But you pushed the blanket off your body. "Sarah and Malakai," you repeated. Joel clenched his jaw. "Sarah and Malakai," "Love, stay in bed," Joel put his hands on your legs, stopping you from pushing them over the edge. "Sarah…Malakai", you said once again, eyes looking up at Joel, "They killed them. I saw… I saw," you breathed out, pressing a finger to your forehead where the bullet had pierced your son's skull. "I know, baby, I know", Joel tried to gently hold onto you, but the moment his palms touched your arms, you let out the loudest scream. Pushing him away as you turned to the other side of the bed. You dragged your feet over the cold concrete. Sinking to the floor without even being able to take a step forward. Joel rounded the bed as he kneeled in front of you.

"They are dead," you cried out, pulling at Joel's shirt, "My babies… I need to go, I need to…", you tried to pull yourself up by using Joel to brace yourself, but that only made you glance down at your hands, which were still slightly stained by the dried blood that had been on them. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Or they will come in here and", but you paid Joel no mind as you pulled your hands up so you could look at them.

"Get it off," you whispered, "Get it off," pushing your arms towards Joel as you screeched. Joel had scrubbed your unconscious body for hours. There was nothing more he could do. "Joel, get it off," you said once more, tears spilling from your eyes, and Joel couldn't bring himself to do anything. "It's everywhere, get it off", you moved your hand to rub at your skin. All you saw was blood. Blood everywhere. Rubbing turned into scratching, and soon your nails were raking over your skin. Joel quickly caught both of your wrists in his hands. Shaking you slightly as if in hopes of making your return to your senses. "Make it stop", you cried out, hallow eyes looking at Joel. "There's nothing on your hands, love", he barely managed to sound somewhat like himself. But you just shook your head at him, "There's blood all over them. Our kids' blood, Joel."

That was a day ago. Now you just lay there. Leafless. No movements. Eyes blinking once in a while. The only indication that you were still alive. Now Joel wished you would scream. The silence was torture. It was too loud. It pulled you so far away from him. Tommy clapped his brother on the back a couple of times before pulling away. "Get her ready. I'll look at how to get the best spot for you and make sure you two stay together," Joel said nothing. He hoped his eyes said enough. "You look after her. We'll get her back up on her feet," Joel could tell that even if Tommy tried to keep it somewhat positive, he didn't fully believe it himself. Didn't believe that there was any coming back from this. Nor did he believe that you would ever be the same. But Joel nodded anyway.

"Hey", Joel ran a hand over your forehead, once he stepped back into the little room, but didn't get a single movement in return. Not that he was expecting it. "We will have to get you dressed, okay? Then we'll need to go somewhere," Joel said, carefully pulling the blanket off your body before reaching for your clothes. Clothes he had washed. Wash off your kids' blood. Blood that seemed never-ending.

You were shivering. It hadn't stopped ever since you were brought in the first QZ. It had died down a bit. But there wasn't a moment when the quivering stopped. Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked through the corridor. Everyone was on high alert, and the soldiers were tired. Jumpy even. More than one person was killed here simply in the aftermath of unimaginable stress and anxiety. They only let healthy, strong people stay. Anyone with any injury, even the slightest one, was shot. You needed to stand on your own two feet. Walk through the lines of different specialists. Prove yourself worthy of surviving. And even that didn't guarantee you anything. You could have been hit by a bullet at any point.

You, however, were in no condition to stand. There was no way you could walk, much less talk. "Keep your head at the crook of my neck, love", Joel guided your head to rest there, "I will not let go of you even for a second. No one who will approach us will take you away from me," and at this point, Joel wasn't sure if he was still reassuring you or if it had turned to self-reassuring now. With the help of the doctor who assisted you just as you were brought here. They filed the documents of you having a miscarriage. Right here at the QZ. A piece of paper that had the main doctor's signature and forbade you from walking. That had high dosages of medicine marked as a fallacious move by the doctor itself. That you were more than a healthy female before that, and that you would regain that strength once the medication wore off. The only hope Joel had of getting you out of here alive was that piece of paper. And if that didn't work… Well, Joel was ready to kill anyone who stood in his way.

"Joel," Ellie's sad voice pulled the male out of the trance, "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Joel rested his palms on his knees, ready to stand up, but Ellie quickly inched forward. It seemed to her that the man in front of her was no longer the same Joel she knew. "How did you… how did you get through that?", she knew the question was stupid. Joel let out a sad chuckle followed by a painful sigh, "You don't even have an idea how much strength you have until you are forced to use it. That's when you truly see your power". Joel had locked his pain away. Behind a plethora of locks, doors, and crevices. So no one could see it. No one could access it. Draped a shield of coldness on top of it. The coldness made Joel seem more like an animal than a human. He had to become a monster in order to protect the only thing that kept his heart beating. Nothing was off-limits when it came to you.

"I felt like I was failing every day. Every day that I saw her lying there," Joel shook his head at the images that haunted him. The feeling of helplessness flowed through him. Joel had found a woman who could pretend to be you for the time being. Who could take your evening shifts. Who kept the target off your back. No one was allowed to lay around in the QZ, there was too much work as it was. "Joel you were far from failing her", Ellie said putting her hand on Joel's palm, "It feels different kiddo when you see someone you love drifting away".

All the worried looks that Joel would give you made sense now. All the times he would walk up to you. Taking a hold of your hand as he looked at you. Moving to kiss your hands at the time, if not that then, Joel would just hold them in his much bigger palms. At the time, Ellie thought that by doing that, Joel was just trying to warm them up during the cold evenings, but now it had a way bigger meaning behind it. That was Joel's silent attempt to make sure that you stayed with him. That you wouldn't drift away. Like a true guard at night, standing his watch. Always ready to fight for you.

"And I felt horrible that I left him all alone", the sound of your voice made the two of them turn toward the door. "I kept on telling myself to get up. You need to do that for Joel, but…", you shrugged your shoulders. Joel reached his arm towards you, and you instantly walked close to him. Settling down on his lap. His arm snaked around your middle as Joel pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "I never blamed you for it," Joel whispered, looking straight into your eyes. "I know because you're an angel." You cupped his face gently. Leaning in to press your forehead to his. Brushing your fingers under Joel's eyes as you wiped away the last tears.

This man was everything. If you'd fallen for him and his sense of humor back then. The fact that there was never a dull moment with him that even the most serious moments could be turned into fits of laughter. If you had fallen for how attentive and caring he was toward your kids. The way he always put them first. The way he sat in the bathroom for hours learning how to braid Sarah's hair or how he played astronauts with Momo even after the longest shift. Putting him over his shoulder or back as he ran around the living room making all sorts of noises. Then Joel turned into a rock—a whole mountain that shielded you from the restless sea that threatened to drown you. Never moving. Never scared.

"I don't want you to feel like we've been using you as some sort of… as our kids' replacement. The love I feel towards you…" you started, but Ellie quickly shook her head. "How could I? No, Y/N never," she said quickly, and you reached for her hands. "You are a special girl, Ellie, so special," you said as you brushed your fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. Trying to savor it for as long as possible. "You both are like my parents and I've never felt that..", Ellie's bottom lip trembled. Joel reached out to her as well.

"And you are our girl," Joel said, his voice shaky, but he knew he had to say it. Had to let her know that his coldness toward her at the start was just his defensive response. His fear of the unknown. The fear of it all ending the same. But Joel knew that once his nightmare shifted and he started to see Ellie dying in Sarah's or Momo's place, he knew that she had sneaked past his guard. Ellie had managed to find that well-hidden spark inside Joel's heart. And there was nothing that could have been done about it.

Ellie wrapped her hands over both of your shoulders, pulling you both into a hug. A light cry slipped from her lips. Your hand instantly moved to rub her back in hopes of soothing her. Joel pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head before turning his eyes to you. Your teary eyes were already looking back at him. You mouthed a silent "I love you" to him, which Joel returned straight away, followed by a light smile.

Once Ellie pulled away, you both looked at her with fondness. "Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn't have to, but you did," she said, as you rubbed away her tears the same way you had done before. "You are a part of the family now. Family doesn't have secrets," you said softly. "Plus, I think me and Y/N both needed closure", you nodded your head at Joel's words. You had told him multiple times that it was eating you alive that you were keeping this way from Ellie. You could tell that she sensed that something was wrong; she just never asked.

"Do you want to see a picture of them?", you asked, turning to Joel, who you knew had kept a picture of you four. The one he always carried around with him. Tommy had taken it on Momo's second birthday. The summer was in full swing, so you decided to have a barbecue outside. You stood there in a flowy dress, laughing at Sarah, who had a surprised look on her face since Joel had rubbed barbecue sauce on her cheek. Joel's head was thrown back as he laughed. Even Momo, who was nestled in your arms, had somewhat of a grin on his face.

"Sarah would have loved you", Ellie lifted her eyes away from the picture to the sound of Joel's voice. You hummed in agreement, "Momo would have been all over you as well you two cheeky bunch would have gotten into so much trouble". Ellie glanced back down. The image that she saw frozen in front of her seemed almost impossible compared to the two people she had met. But now she knew more than better to not judge the book by its cover. The deepest and most painful scars were always hidden the deepest.

"I would have loved to know them", Ellie said dragging her finger over their faces, "Momo, looks like a minute version of Joel". You let out a little laugh, "That's what I said. Imagine how mad I was after carrying him for nine months and he popped out looking nothing like me". Joel cracked a smile, looking down at the photograph himself. The one he barely pulled out these days.

"If we stay in Jackson, we must build them memorial stones and plant flowers all around them," Ellie said firmly. The tears picked up at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at her. "That's a really beautiful idea, Ellie bear," you said, running your fingers over her hair. Joel nudged Ellie's side playfully, making her let out a chuckle before he brought you closer to him once again. Time healed scars, even if slowly. But you two were here and now you had Ellie by your side. Your hearts, even if covered in scars, still beat for one another. Together, you were capable of anything and everything. Life has already proven that.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for slapping my mother in law?

I (27F) am married to my husband Jay (26M) and we recently had our first child Lily.

Well the pregnancy was a very very difficult one. I was throwing up every day for over six months, suffered long bouts of insomnia, developed gestational diabetes, standing up too fast made me incredibly dizzy, my entire body just constantly hurt, Lily kicked me so hard I legit had tears in my eyes (which combined with full body pain was...not pleasant) and to top it all off Lily weighed ELEVEN pounds and I tore really really badly.

Yeah...ow.

I love my daughter to death but never again. Ever.

Anyways after that literal hell of a pregnancy, I've been more or less bedbound for several weeks now while healing from that entire ordeal. Which means Jay has been taking care of pretty much everything, keeping the house clean, making food, taking care of me and Lily, etc. Its a lot I know and I wish I could do more to help but Jay has been insisting that I rest and recover and that he's got this. He's been handling everything like an absolute champ. Honestly if I didnt have him I dont know how I would be doing anything.

Well this morning Jay's parents came to visit and meet their granddaughter. So I was moved to the living room so I could introduce them to Lily and socialize a bit while Jay cooked lunch.

Now Jay's parents are very traditional. They believe that men make the money and that its the woman's job to take care of the house, the cooking, and the children.

You can probably see where this is going.

I introduce Mother in law to Lily and we get to talking. (Father in law went outside to go smoke)

Thats when mother in law asks why Jay is cooking. More importantly why Im NOT cooking. I tell her I physically cant even stand UP without help so how am I supposed to cook.

She only scoffed saying that I was just making excuses. I am very used to her bullshit by now so I just roll my eyes.

Then Lily started crying because she needed a diaper change. Mother in law tells me to go change her diaper. Again I cant even stand up by myself, much less get up to change a diaper.

I call Jay and he happily comes to get our daughter. Mother in law starts yelling, telling Jay no that I should do it because its my job. She grabs Lily and shoves her back into my arms and tells me to get up and go do it.

Jay, my wonderful angel, tried to tell her that I physically couldnt move for weeks and to mind her own damn business.

She then started yelling even more saying that I was making my husband do my job for me, calling me lazy and a slut (What that has anything to do with this? I have no idea) she went off on a complete tangent about how it was a woman's job to take care of the home and the children, that SHE managed just fine and she had five small children, that I was completely emasculating Jay, that I was a disgrace, etc.

She just kept going and going while not letting me and Jay even get a word in. Until eventually she said that my daughter will probably grow up to be a whore like I am.

I think it was a mix of pure exhaustion and hormones because somehow I managed to stand up for a moment and slap her across the face before immediately falling back on the couch.

Jay looked shocked, Mother in law looked livid. (Father in law was just watching from the doorway, equally as shocked.)

Mother in law started full on screaming, calling me every single name in the book until father in law physically dragged her out of the house by her arm.

Now hours later my phone has been blowing up with messages from my brothers and sister in laws, telling me that I was an asshole and that I had no excuse for hitting their mother.

Hell even my friends think I was in the wrong for hitting her (completely ignoring how she was yelling, calling me horrible names, in front of a newborn baby no less.)

So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[semischarmed]

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired. 

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.  

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen. 

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it. 

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1: 

<3

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short. 

 My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged. 

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day. 

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water. 

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this. 

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”  

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.” 

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol” 

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself. 

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”  

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text. 

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream. 

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment. 

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head. 

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done. 

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry. 

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”. 

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another. 

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny. 

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through. 

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front. 

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature. 

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”. 

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine. 

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click. 

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Can we see Alfred and shop girl bonding in the Other Half?💕

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Warnings: Mostly fluffy, with a peppering of angst; Shop Girl has nightmares; this is an Alfred-centric chapter for obvious reasons

“I known Frank twenty years. I do that to him, can you imagine what I’ll do to you?”

The words are drowned by a gunshot, and a cruel laugh—

You’re sitting up and scrambling to turn the lamp on before you can stop yourself. You heave in tight, panicked breaths as your memory still crowds behind your eyes and rings through your ears. You look around the bedroom, and for once, you’re relieved to find Bruce’s side of the bed empty. Ever since you’ve returned to Gotham, he’s been hesitant around you. His worry hasn’t disappeared, but he’s been far more careful about voicing that concern. 

You draw a deep breath in through your nose, forcing yourself to hold it for ten seconds before slowly blowing the air out again. You can feel the panicked pounding of your heart as you begin to adjust to your reality, away from your nightmare. 

You look around the dim room, stomach churning in discomfort at the thought of laying back down and trying to fall back asleep with the memories of the kidnapping so close to the surface. You push the sheets aside, tucking your feet into your slippers and taking your bathrobe up from where you’d hung it over the footboard. You pull it open, yawning widely as you head for the door. 

It’s a short trip to the kitchen, but you’re surprised to find the lights on, and Alfred puttering around. 

“Alfred?” You speak up, voice thick from disuse. You smile a little as he turns to look at you. “Is everything okay?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

You hum softly, walking over to the stove. “I wanted some tea,” You fib. “Would you like some?” 

“I’d be happy to make it.” 

“I don’t mind. You do these things for us all the time. What are you doing up, anyway?” 

“I had trouble getting to sleep, myself.” 

“Really?” You frown, turning to look at him once you’ve put the fire on under the kettle. “Are you alright?” 

“Quite alright,” He reassures with a gentle smile. “I was trying to parse whether or not Master Wayne may want to do anything for Christmas.” 

“Mm,” You nod. “A good question, consider the catastrophe that was Thanksgiving.” 

You walk over to the shelf that Alfred keeps the tea chest. 

“Would you like a biscuit with your tea?” 

“Oh, yes please,” You smile. 

“Has he said anything to you about Christmas?” 

“Not a word. But communication’s been a little…Odd since I got back.” 

“‘Odd’ how?” 

“Mm, well,” You shrug, opening the lid of the tea chest. “I don’t know, I feel like we’ve been tip-toeing around one another.” 

“That is to be expected, even if it’s uncomfortable.” 

“As long as it doesn’t become our normal.” 

“I’m certain you’ll find a way to work through it.” 

You smile as Alfred joins you at the counter with two clean mugs. 

“Thank you. Chamomile?” 

“How you know me,” Alfred chuckles. 

“Two tea bags?” 

“Yes, please.” 

You set the tea bags down in one mug before taking up a packet of sleepy time for yourself. 

“...Alfred?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can I ask…” You trail off, weighing your words as you put the tea chest away again. “When I asked Bruce about whether or not we were doing anything for Thanksgiving, you know—before the fiasco…He seemed to sort of…Glaze over.” 

Alfred purses his lips, considering. 

“The holidays have always been somewhat difficult for Mr. Wayne, but we haven't celebrated Thanksgiving since he was a very small boy.” 

“Oh…” You slouches back against the counter, scrubbing your hand across your forehead. “I wish I had known that. I’m sure this year hasn't sent him scurrying back to the table for turkey.”

“You couldn’t have known unless one of us told you,” Alfred soothes. “And if you consider it another way: the holiday can only get better going forward.” 

“...That’s certainly an optimistic way of looking at it. Though I may just hop on the bandwagon and never celebrate it again.” 

“It would certainly cut down on the dishes.” 

You snort a soft laugh, jokingly whacking his shoulder in admonishment before turning back to the stove, hearing the kettle scream. You fill each mug, glancing back as Alfred sits at the kitchen table with a plate of biscuits. You sit down across from him, passing him his tea before taking up a biscuit.

“...I take it he’s not back yet,” You hedge. 

“No…But it’s early.” 

Early. Your eyes stray to the clock. It’s nearly half past three. You shake your head a little, peering down into your tea and levering the bag in and out as you think. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“No,” You insist, “I just, um…Every once in a while I have these flashes to when I met Bruce. It was a little over a year ago now.” 

“I remember.”

“How are the gloves holding up, by the way?” 

“They’re in excellent condition.” 

“I better call my old manager. She’ll be so happy to hear it.”

The two of you share a chuckle before Alfred reaches out, resting his hand atop yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Drink your tea before it goes cold,” You nod toward it. “I know that drives you nuts.” 

“There is nothing worse than a cold cup of tea.” 

“So you keep telling me. What are your opinions on iced tea?” 

“That is an entirely different matter. It’s alright if the tea is cold, so long as it did not start out hot.” 

“Something tells me you’ve thought a lot about this. I’m starting to think this is what really keeps you up at night.”

“More than you could possibly imagine.” 

Next Part

[mockerycrow]

Undercover III (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — previous | next

Summary: After your undercover op has been exposed, Soap has to record an interview of your account of everything, along with any sensitive information you’ve learned. You begin to sort through memories that drag you into a dark hole.

A/N: there is usage of scottish slang, such as bonnie. bonnie is a gender neutral term, i know it’s often used in fem! fics, but please note it’s not feminine specific. also, thank you so much for the love on this!! also i’m lowkey making this a slow burn on accident, my bad—

[WARNINGS: angst, flashbacks, panic attack, very vague unintentional self-harm, violence, vague descriptions of corpses - gore.]

“It is not the bruises on the body that hurt. It is the wounds of the heart and the scars on the mind.” -Aisha Mirza.

I keep my eyes on the pillow that’s across my torso and lap, feeling like if I move my eyes to anywhere else, my heart will fucking crawl out of my goddamn throat. I hear Soap shift in his seat ever so slightly, and I think he’s leaning forward because his breathing sounds ever so slightly closer than before. “We had six weeks to prepare our new lives, six weeks to adjust to our government assigned personalities, six weeks to move some personal belongings to different areas of Russia, six weeks to brush up on our Russian, as well as our Ukrainian.” My voice is quiet because I’m afraid if I talk any louder, it’ll tremble.

I have a hard time swallowing whatever spit has accumulated in my mouth, the entrance to my throat fluttering. “I.. I got on the next flight to Russia, said goodbye to my old unit. In the United States, I temporarily, well.. no longer existed. They had to make it look like I never existed in the first place.” I pause for a moment, remembering how much of a pain in the ass it will be to officially exist as a U.S. citizen again after living as a Russian one for a couple of years.

“I was no longer [Name] [Last Name], I was Zhenya Antonenko.” I take a deep breath and decide to risk it; I look over at Soap and he looks.. intrigued, troubled even. His finger twitches over the pause button before deciding against pressing it. “Was’it difficult to get into Makarov’s organization?” He asks, his left eyebrow eyebrow furrowing inwards like he’s hearing something he doesn’t want to—or maybe he feels bad. God. The last thing I want from anyone is pity. “A bit,” I glance at my fingernails to keep myself preoccupied. “He did, heh, ‘loyalty tests’.” My tone is a sneer, and my gut tightens at the memory of what I had to do to show my loyalty to the cause. There’s a heaviness to the air, the tension so thick you would need a meat cleaver and hack at it a couple of times to get through it. Soap is quiet and I reluctantly make eye contact with him, and we both know the unsaid question. ‘What did I do?’ I scan his face, his posture, his body language. Anything to tell me what he’s thinking.

Soap is certainly.. conflicted, like he knows he needs this information but he’s uncertain if it’s right to even ask. I close my eyes for a moment to regain my composure, but that was surely a big fuckin’ mistake because as soon as my eyelids closed, I see the blood of an innocent person spilled, dripping onto the floor, painting a horrifying picture behind my eyes of the different bodies—the different families I’ve torn apart and mangled. I jolt and my eyelids snap open as my heart skips a beat and settles into an unsteady rhythm underneath my rib cage, my heart monitor following along to the inconsistency. Fuck, fuck, why can I smell it?— that mortifying, dreadful smell of metal, licking at my nostrils. I phase out the beeping of the machines, fuck, my chest—it hurts, can’t breathe, I’m sorry, I had to, don’t you fucking understand?? I had to kill them, the world’s fate was on my fucking shoulders!!-

I grab at my chest as my lips part for air, my need for air following into an unsettling similar, inconsistent rhythm like my heart rate. Fuck. I have the sudden need to bolt, so I yank my handcuffed hand, and I barely feel the sharp pain of the metal digging into my palmaris longus muscle, the way it’s slicing through my skin, fucking unlock it, please, just—“Let me gO!”

Warm and callused hands on me—don’t touch me—I think I yell, but I can’t tell, numb, numbnumbnumbnumb—gunpowder, shit-

I form a fist with my free hand and I use all of the strength I can muster—I don’t punch, but I use that strength in my forearm to push them away, hopefully making them stagger. Just fucking leave me alone, please—!

“…amin’ bloody hell, bonnie, breathe!”

Soap’s voice manages to cut through the sheer panic that’s overflowing everywhere around me—his hands are on my face?? Why is he touching my face, don’t fUcking touch my—One of his hands leaves my face and returns with something fucking ICE COLD, sending a shock through my system. “wHa-“ I cough and try to push him away again but I hear a muffled, soft apology before the cold thing moves from my face to the back of my neck. The shock.. feels like my system got reset in a way. I blink rapidly as I pant, my vision flooding back to me, along with my hearing. I have this fucking ugly, heavy feeling deep in my stomach.

My eyes remain unfocused as I look at the man next to me and his proximity makes me jolt; Soap is right up next to my bed but on the other side this time, one hand holding my handcuffed arm and the other holding.. I think an ice cold hand towel? His face comes in and out of focus, and I catch glimpses of worry and concern. “Back wit’me now?” Soap’s voice is a low, raspy murmur as he speaks, like I’ll bolt any second. I nod and shakily take a deep breath to control my breathing completely, and he nods in response. “Good, there ya are.. Take another one, yeah?” I follow his instructions and repeat my last deep breath, the oxygen flooding my lungs, flooding my veins.. Now that my chest no longer aches, or at least ache in the way it does when you have a panic attack there’s this.. stinging pain lining my wrist. I wince with a hiss and look down and the metal ring of the cuff around my wrist is lined with blood, dripping down onto the blanket. “Goddamnit.” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I go to turn my wrist to see if I’m able to view how much I fucked up my skin and joint, but Soap’s hold on my arm tightens and he makes a quick tsk sound. “Don’t’cha move that, maybe it’s a better idea t’let the nurse take a look.” I mumble “maybe” and I try to rest my wrist, but I can’t. No matter what I do, it fucking hurts. Soap stands up which makes me look at him and he reaches over to a button pad near my pillows and presses the big red button, a soft alarm going off down the hall. He situates himself back in his seat.

I make eye contact with him and his gaze is so.. intense. So many questions, his eyes searching mine for.. something. I don’t know what that ‘something’ is though, and it’s bothering me. “We can continue the report tomorrow,” Soap’s hand gently lets go of my arm—which I completely forgot he was holding—but he keeps his other hand holding the small hand towel to the back of my neck to keep me calm and grounded. “I honestly dinnae ken ta’reason why they’ve decided to do this shite so early.” I blink as I try to make out what he’s saying because his accent is thick, but luckily I’ve spent some time around some Scots in my lifetime to give me a head start. “Early?” I repeat back to him in a question. Too early to.. get the report?? Of course they’re going to want the information as soon as possible, it’s fucking Makarov! “Early.” Soap confirms back to me. “You’ve barely been awake enough to properly process this.” My eyebrows furrow together; why is this random guy concerned about that? His only job is to literally make sure I don’t try to do some stupid shit before my evaluation. Like kill myself or someone else, something like that. Before I’m able to retaliate what I’m able to sense in his voice, a middle aged man wearing this green scrub outfit. He gives me a wide and fake, polite smile. I fucking hate this. “Hi, I’m Mr. Sutton, one of your nurses for the day. What is going on?” His tone is laced with faux-politeness, and I can see the corners of his smile are tight, like there’s strings pulling his lips into something that isn’t a snarl. I feel my muscles tense and suddenly I feel lighter—but my heart rate monitor picks up a skipped heartbeat and I can’t feel my fingertips again.

Oh.

Sutton immediately eyes my monitor and furrows his eyebrows, looking back at me. “Are you feeling alright?”

I don’t answer, I can’t.

It’s like I’m fucking stuck in that godforsaken chair again, waiting for Makarov to come up with a new attempt to beat the fucking shit out of me, to wring out my plans.

The adrenaline.

Soap calls me by my name but I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes trained on Sutton.

Fuck, I can barely think.

Why am I suddenly like this? Why is it this particular nurse?

“Maybe it’s best if a different nurse treats ‘em.” Soap suggests to Sutton, his tone laced with a warning.

Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious, captain.

My eyelids flutter open and I stare at the ceiling as I wake up—my wrist was disinfected bandaged, and handcuffed one again. There’s no noise besides the faint beeping of my machines. I was given medicine so I could sleep, I really wish they hadn’t given me that stuff because now I’m laying here with the image of a mutilated body burned into my memory. Her name was Anya Kozlova. She didn’t do anything, yet Makarov had me slaughter her and leave her remains out like I was a poacher. My fingers twitch as I feel discomfort around my abdomen, which is where some of my surgery stitches are, so my pain medicine is probably wearing off. I stare at the fluorescent lights of my room until I can feel the dull pain of looking at a bright light source for too long settling in my eyes. I blink harshly to “reset” my eyes, my free hand coming up to rub my eyes gently, then going up to my eyebrow muscles and apply pressure, rubbing in slow, firm circles to relax the muscle. I freeze for a moment because this is a habit that developed after I successfully got into the organization—a clear sign of stress.

My thought process is interrupted by a loud snore, making my skeleton nearly fucking jump out of my skin. I quickly look to my right side and.. It’s Soap?? He’s still here??

He’s leaned back into the chair in a position that cannot be comfortable—these are the chairs that have squishy padding as a seat until you sit in it for ten minutes and then your ass goes numb. His legs are spread out in front of him in a manspreading kind of way, one of his hands on his chest and other on his lap which is holding a.. book of some kind? Maybe a sketchbook? Looks like it. His head is limp and is resting against his left shoulder, his lips parted with a line of drool, soaking into his shirt. The corner of my mouth twitches. I notice a pencil behind his ear, which he must’ve been using for his notebook, er sketchbook… Maybe. I feel my muscles slowly untense and honestly, I barely noticed how tense I was a few moments ago, how paranoid I felt when I thought I was alone. I glance at the door and then back at Soap’s his snore dying down into a soft rhythm as he adjusts his head’s position in his sleep. I wonder about the story surrounding that chin scar? The scar runs deep into the skin there, so it must’ve been something nasty. My eyes trace the way his nose is shaped, how the beginning of his eyebrows are furrowed inwards. His long eyelashes flutter ever so slightly which I take as my cue to look away, dragging my eyes across the room to scan for anything new, which of course there isn’t.

This is the reason why I hate being stuck in one room for a long time. Of course, the familiarity is somewhat comforting, you don’t have to stare frantically search for something that may be different, a weapon, a bomb, something, but at the same time? It gets me antsy. I’d much rather be able to get up and leave this room, but one, I don’t think anyone would let me—even if I managed to get myself out of these cuffs—and two, I’m not sure if I can stand. Fuck. My chest tightens at that thought; I’m not sure if I can stand. I can’t help but think back to Makarov and what he did to me, how he found out I was not born Russian. A part of me wants to resent Soap and whoever the fuck was in that room, and trust me, a little part of me does because they did a piss poor job at basically slapping a couple of bandaids on my wounds and then decided to try to waterboard information out of me?? If I didn’t say anything to Makarov, what did these fucks think they’d get out of me? I take a deep breath, feeling my chest expand as my lungs fight to make room for the oxygen. I hold it for a couple of seconds and slowly exhale through my lips. I need to calm down.

The door swings open to my room, making my heart rate spike again, my fingers instinctively grabbing the pillow on my front. Dr. Erikson and Mutton-Chops enter the room, and I don’t feel any better. Their eyes land on me and I can see the surprise stretched across their faces, at the fact that I’m awake, but I have a hard stare and I keep it. My shoulders ache as my muscles lock up once again. The door opening jolted Soap awake, my eyes flickering to him once I hear his sharp inhale from being startled. His head is turned and his eyes are also on whoever entered the room—scanned the room like a soldier. I hold back a quiet chuckle because of fucking course he woke up from that, he is a soldier. “You’re awake, [Name].” Dr. Erikson points out as he walks over, holding a clipboard. I don’t respond; my throat feels tight. He pauses at the fact that I don’t respond and he glances at Soap, then Mutton-Chops, then back at me. Dr. Erikson’s hand gestures to Mutton-Chops. “This is Captain John Price. We know you are having some trouble.. recounting what happened on your end, so Hudson thought it might be helpful for Price for catch you up to speed on his, considering you both have similar goals.”

Soap’s groggy yet loud voice cuts in. “What?” His tone is incredulous as he properly sits up in his chair, closing the notebook sketchbook thing in his lap. Mutton-Chops—the man who now has a proper name, Price—shoots Soap a look, like it holds so many words unsaid. Whatever his look said is enough to get Soap to quiet down. My fingers grip the pillowcase again because the silent, unspoken communication causes this weird fucking anxiety to flare up in my stomach. I don’t like it. I don’t respond again. Dr. Erikson approaches the IV machine—an infusion pump I think it’s called?—and presses a few buttons. I panic and I grab his wrist and yank it away because what if he’s sent by Makarov to finish me off, what if—“He’s just adjustin’ yer meds, bonnie.” Soap’s voice is low but close and I don’t bother to look at him, but I slowly let go of the doctor’s wrist. Dr. Erikson’s face has a troubled expression before he writes something down and takes his leave through the swinging door he came through in. That leads me to look at Price, as I’m left alone with him and Soap. He comes over to the other side, opposite of where Soap is sitting. I keep eye contact with the man and I must be unintentionally glaring at him because he’s looking back down at me with a challenging gaze. Gaze that screams ‘you have a couple of loose screws, don’t you?’

I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or not anymore, especially when he finally speaks. Price’s voice is rough, like gravel, yet incredibly soft. Which I hate because I feel like he’s treating me like a ‘civ.

“We need to get your head on straight.”

🏷️; @glitterypirateduck @darling006 @elowynnlane @hardnutpost @boycigs @wolfyland07

[morlock-holmes]

I got sucked into reading click-bait and once again I find myself angrily asking,

"What the fuck do conservatives think gender is, anyway?"

Because they keep saying that it's just "science" or "biology" even though that makes no fucking sense at all with how they talk about it.

Like, they'll say, "Biologically there are only two genders" and when you go, "Wait, there are more than two combinations of sexual traits" they just glibly go, "But there are only two combinations that count" and then drop the fucking mic like nobody could ever beat such a great argument.

There's also the bizarre insistence that trans ideology somehow denies biology; in fact, if that were the case, it would be very, very difficult to even conceive of a difference between cis and trans people.

Like, I often say, "I am a man," but conservatives seem to think that if I switched to saying "I am a trans woman" that I would suddenly be... what, claiming to have been assigned female at birth? Because I would literally be saying the exact opposite of that.

Any out trans person is being totally honest about "biological reality" and freely admitting to the exact biological facts which are supposedly so important and so contested.

I will die on this hill because I could not possibly be more obviously correct.

There is, as far as I can tell, absolutely no disagreement between trans people and anti-trans conservatives about underlying biological facts about human bodies.

So why there's this bizarre insistence on pretending that such a disagreement exists is a source of profound confusion and consternation for me.

[demaparbat-hp]

Even if zuko has a plan to end the war, making katara work amongst people who likely hold racism towards her and aided and supported the genocide of her people is still weird, especially since zuko benefits from the fire nations oppression of people throughout s1 when hunting the Avatar. Not good choices to make in a zutara au :/

Believe me, I've made these arguments against myself over and over again.

I know I'm putting Katara in an extremely difficult and unjust position in this AU with—from an outsider's point of view—little to no reason other than "I just wanted to see her in Fire Nation armor and kicking ass" and no consideration for the context. I'm not trying to somehow forgive nor redeem the Fire Nation's actions in war just because...well...just because. Not at all. People who've read Soundless (or any other of my wips, really) know that's not the case. On the contrary—I always do my best to see the war through a realistic, mature lense. And that includes everything that makes the Fire Nation so terrible in the first place.

That being said, there are some things I considered when deciding to make Katara side with them (even if her true motives lie elsewhere) in this AU. And they are not excuses. Just, different layers of context.

First of all, she was desperate. By this point in her life, her mother was dead, her father had left to fight the war, her brother followed behind a few years after, and she was left filling the empty spaces when, by all means, she wasn't ready for the responsibility. She had been feeling helpless and hopeless for years, and ached to do anything to help her people beyond doing chores and taking care for the children.

Let it be known that Aang's apparent betrayal comes from a place of trauma and misplaced anger on Katara's part. Much like how she put the Fire Nation's sins on Zuko's shoulders in S3. She is not on the right here, but this is her natural way to process and understand grief. There are many different aspects of her development as a child involved in how she views the Avatar—and, by extension, Aang—but more on this later.

Katara was young, and reckless, and she had just been "betrayed" by the first person who ever looked at her and saw more than the perfect caretaker she was forced to be. She was not in the right state of mind to make a decision like that and, to be honest, she couldn't have predicted the consequences. She saw a clear path to contribute to the end of the war, and by La she would take it.

On Zuko's end, you might argue that he should have known better than to let her join him and, well, you would be right. But there were many things about Katara's trauma response and state of mind that—unless he had known her for a long time—he couldn't have known. He will definitely blame himself later on, when the racism and cruelty towards Katara begins, and especially when word reaches her family at sea.

It's Katara's job to smack some sense into him from time to time and tell him that, yes, he should have tried harder to stop her (and she would probably be better off because of it) but what's done is done. And, by all means, the decision was hers to make. If anything, it's their fault, not his alone.

Now, Katara doesn't suffer the entire AU. That would just be cruel.

Zuko's crew was handpicked by Uncle Iroh, so you can expect dissidents, traitors and a few White Lotus agents who were smart enough to keep their true opinions quiet. There are...mixed opinions in that bunch, of course, but that's expected and, to be honest, rather easily dealt with. They are mostly honourable people just doing their best to end the war from the inside.

The real problem comes when they cross paths with, say, Zhao's fleet (or Hakoda's, let's be real).

And you may ask why Zuko is hunting down Aang, then, if he's secretly a goody-two-shoes himself... I'll explain that later in depth, so stay tuned.

In short, I know the decisions I've made, as a creator, are debatable at best, and downright blasfemous at worst. But they're deliberate.

I want the readers to feel conflicted about Katara's choices in this AU. I want people to have mixed opinions about the war, the (apparent lack of) morality, the characters, you name it!

I'm not trying to glorify a victim of war joining the side of the ones responsible for her people's genocide, even if it's just for show and she's actually set on destroying their government from within. Not at all.

Katara made a stupid, horrible decision, and she's going to suffer the consequences. But she's also going to fight to reach her goals, because she's stubborn like that.

I know most people may have a little trouble understanding where I'm coming from, because they don't have all the information necessary to make a full opinion.

I'm really thankful for these kind of asks. They let me explore these concepts and AUs in depth, and see what you think about them. I'm only human—my opinions are not infalible, nor The Right Ones, and this is a kind of discussion that I love to have.

So, keep the asks coming!!!

[hades-in-bloom]

Bitten Lips

a/n: happy Astarion brainrot—two silly blurbs for both Tav (#1, w/ Spawn A) and The Dark Urge (#2, w/ Ascended A) using the same keywords (see the title; like, also don’t ask how and why, pretty please). Summaries and additional warnings per blurb below. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

spoilers for Act 3

warnings & contents [for both]: depictions of self-harm (non-suicidal); mentions of blood; the reader could be any gender; Tav/Durge could be any race or class; age gap (hard not to with a 200-years-old vampire); could’ve been a headcanon

[1] : lucky one

Spawn!Astarion Ancunin x Tav!Reader

summary [1]: Tav is nervous, and somehow it makes Astarion climb a wall.

+warnings & contents [1]: unadulterated comfort with a pinch of anxiety; silly bad habits driving Astarion insane; cheeky Tav

soundtrack [1]: måneskin — honey (are you coming?)

***

Astarion snaps when you bring wandering fingers to the bottom of your face again.

“Stop it,” the elf demands, mouth pressed into a thin line as he attempts to keep his frustration in check. You wince slightly, picking a string of dry skin from your wounded lips once more without realising the gravity of your actions.

“Sweet hells,” Astarion grumbles. “Why would you do it? It’s disgusting.” A bizarre mix of annoyance and worry is almost palpable in his well articulated voice. He’s seen worse sights, but you hurt yourself—that’s what he finds appalling.

As thin blood gushes out of a fresh rip on your lip, unadulterated guilt floods your essence instantly. You feel your cheeks heat up, and anxiety crooks your fingers, while you finally realize how sore your lips are since you kept violating them repeatedly in the past half an hour, agitated and a little bit overwhelmed. A prospective of turning into a mindflayer with no lips whatsoever soon down the line would make anyone nervous after all.

Astarion gives you a long stare, so you look away and mumble, “I’m sorry.” To be honest, you didn’t expect him to pick up on your silly bad habit; no one ever pays that much attention to it—there are always bigger problems to tend—but somehow he does notice.

Your tongue runs across your bottom lip, and you taste metal.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” The vampire frowns, his voice rising an octave. He frets, however hides the feelings behind a playful facade everyone’s been so used to. “Otherwise you’re ruining that pretty face of yours for no reason.”

He asks difficult questions, so you huff, unsure of what you’re supposed to say. You’ve never been great at talking about your feelings, bottling up your emotions deep down instead, where no one would ever think of rummaging.

“You didn’t expect me to always be a damned ray of sunshine, did you?” You revert your gaze to him reluctantly.

To be fair, usually you’ve smiled inappropriately often. If there were any expectations in this regard among the party members, you are the one to blame for it.

“Gods, no. Also, too much sun is bad for my health, so...” Astarion shrugs off your cynicism without a second thought. “You do you, lover.”

The pale elf’s stare lingers on you way too long for your liking, mildly unfounded uneasiness growing inside you. You want him to drop it; you want him not to care, when you don’t have answers for him. Of course, it’s too much to ask. You lose your patience at once, rolling your eyes in defeat.

“You won’t let it go,” you acknowledge, and his lips curl into a faint smile in response.

“I will if you stop doing that,” the pale elf retorts with a hint of desperate outrage as your finger innocently slides over your sore lip unwittingly, probing before the next torture.

You turn your obsession into advantage, and there’s a mischievous spark in your eyes. “I won’t be able to stop by myself.”

He catches up almost instantaneously, with his gaze fixated on your bloody, tortured lips now for all the wrong (or right?) reasons.

Astarion eliminates the distance between you two with a shameless smirk forming on his face—the smirk you knew quite well.

“Darling, aren’t you lucky,” his voice sings, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling your bodies close, leaning forward meaningfully. “I might just be willing to help you out.”

[2] : broken one

Ascended!Astarion Ancunin x Consort!Dark Urge!Reader

summary [2]: Astarion’s partner falls a victim of their dark urges once again.

+warnings & contents [2]: Durge is durging; mentions of murder; mild descriptions of death; unhinged kisses; implied power struggle?

soundtrack [2]: bella poarch — villain and dutch melrose — runrunrun

***

Tonight the palace giggles in your voice, and It can only mean one thing. Astarion hears what you did well before he steps into the bedroom, blood champing under the sole of his exquisitely made shoe. Right there, in the epicentre of massacre, your figure is hunched over maid’s body, now lifeless. Her head hangs limply from your lap, while your twitching fingers are sorting through strands of gore stained hair.

Astarion takes stock of the committed atrocity for one moment before he begins to approach. “What a mess,” he sighs, slightly wrinkling delicate features in annoyance, making his verdict. “Why, little love—this one is particularly sloppy.”

You have not come to senses yet to argue; there is a dreamy, unsettling smile on your face as you glance at your beloved glassy-eyed. Astarion smiles tenderly in return, his fingers gripping your chin to lift your head.

“Poor thing,” the man cooes a tad condescendingly, seizing the moment, when you are incapable of biting back.

Animalistic grunt escapes your throat, and you snarl, but the vampire lord holds you in place tightly. He covers your bleeding, bitten in heat of the urge lips with his own, fangs dragging over your sore skin, making you gasp, almost weep instead.

At other times headstrong and fierce, able to fight back against his caring tyranny, at this point you are exhausted. You cling to his embellished doublet with the last of your strength, pleading, surrendering yourself at his mercy.

“My lovely consort,” Astarion mutters with affection, satisfied with your obedience to the point of one’s disgust.

The pale elf kicks back maidservant’s body with his foot and picks you up in his arms, holding tight to his chest as he carries you to your shared bed. You can feel the urge leaving your body, taking your consciousness away with it.

“It’s going to be over soon, my love.” Astarion whispers soothingly, although you can’t hear him anymore. “It’s going to be over soon.”

[lainiespicewrites]

Dreamless sleep

I mentioned in a reblog a few days ago that I sometimes write little oneshots about Henry to comfort myself when shit situations happen. Well I left work today and my car wouldn't start and... I've been struggling with remembering something really difficult that happened to me and I needed a comfort fic. This is that.... I don't normally post them but I wanted to share this one.

Warnings: Mentions of SA possible trigger.

summary: waking up from a nightmare and having a rough day. Henry is always there to help.

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

I watched the door shake.  The man on the other side determined to break in.  If he got through, he was going to hurt me again. Not that he would ever admit it. My attacker had spent just moments before trying to convince me I had asked for it. Like what he did to me was nothing more than him fulfilling my desires. Bile rose in the back of my throat from the thought. 

“Go away, Luke! I told you I won’t say anything to anyone! Just leave me alone!” But he didn’t stop. I watched the door knob turn as I looked around my childhood bedroom searching for something to barricade the door. Trying to find anything to keep him out. My strength would not hold much longer. One more shove and he would be inside. I wouldn’t be able to escape him. Just like the last time. As I’m reaching for a chair to press against the door, I stumble. I fall to the floor and the door swings open… 

I woke with a start shooting straight up gasping for breath. My heart was racing and I let out a whimper as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I flinched as I felt a gentle hand touch my hip. 

“Darling it’s me, it’s okay.” Henry’s soothing voice broke through my panic. It was a dream. Only, a dream. I swallowed hard and looked out the window. It was storming, the sky was still gray, I looked over at the clock 6:25 my alarm was about to go off, 

“Sorry, go back to sleep baby, it was just a bad dream. I’m okay.” I assured him. Henry sat up. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and placed a soft kiss on my head. 

“You’re sure? He asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head. I hadn’t told him about what happened to me. And as far as I was concerned he didn’t need to know. It was in the past. I was fine. It was rare that I had these dreams. 

“No bear, It was silly, just go back to sleep, I need to get up and get ready,” I told him. He took in a deep breath. He still held me close for a moment before hesitantly letting go of my waist. 

“Alright, love,” When I got out of bed I turned and kissed him softly. He looked so tired. He’d gotten back so late from set. I hate that I’d woken him up. 

“I’ll see you later,” I smiled. He sat up giving me another kiss. 

“Have a good day baby,” He said. I slipped out of my bedroom and took a quick shower. I quickly got dressed for the office and left. I picked up a coffee on the way to work. I splashed some on my shirt leaving a small stain. It wasn’t completely obvious but I knew it was there. This would happen today I hate Mondays. Things were in full swing, actually, busy. When I got there. I sat down and tried to focus on my work. But I couldn’t get anything done. All I could think about was that dream. 

Lunch rolled around and I realized I’d left it at home. I didn’t want to bother Henry. He hadn’t had a day to himself in a while. So I was just going to pick something up. I ran to the little convenience store down the road and got a little snack. It was much but it would hold me over until the end of the day. 

The rest of the day was so busy. So many emails and the work just kept piling up. It was non-stop. I was so ready to get back to my place and spend the evening with Henry. I walked out to my car and put the key in the ignition and… it didn’t start. I tried it again… nothing. How could this happen? It ran perfectly fine on lunch. God, I was just tired and hungry and I want to get home! I’ve spent the whole day reminded of this terrible thing I’d gone through, and now this? Today sucked! I sighed and pulled out my phone. I was going to have to call Henry. I tapped his name and the phone rang. After the second ring, he picked up. 

“Hey, babe, you on you’re way back?” He asked. I sighed again. 

“No,” I said flatly. “My car won’t start I don’t know what’s wrong, the engine won’t even try to turn over.” I rambled. I could hear myself starting to hyperventilate. 

“Slow down, breathe. I’ll be right there.” He promised. In 10 minutes he was pulling up next to my car. We tried to jump it but that did nothing. I sighed and slammed the door. “Whoa, hey, it’s gonna be alright we’ll get it fixed, love,” Henry said grabbing my shoulders gently and making me face him. I felt my lip start to wobble. I didn’t want him to see me cry. In all honesty, we hadn’t been together that long. He hadn’t seen me break down and I wasn’t ready for him to. What if I was too much? What if he didn’t want me anymore?

“I-i’m sorry, today has just been… stressful. I was looking forward to getting home and spending time with you.” I said. 

“And you’re going to, we’ll leave the car here I’ll have it looked at in the morning. Let's get back and relax my love.” Henry drove us home. I shuffled inside, quickly changing into comfy clothes. After spending a while trying to fix the car it had gotten a bit late so we decided to order in. Henry ordered dinner while I got cozy on the couch. We ate our Chinese takeout and binged a new Netflix series. My mind wandered not fully paying attention. Getting lost in the dream from this morning. I was staring blankly at a spot on the wall, I didn’t hear Henry say my name. He shook my shoulder and I yelped. His brow raised and his eyes filled with concern, and something that almost looked like hurt. 

“What’s going on with you today love?” He asked. I snapped. 

“What do you mean? Nothings going on everythings fine!” I said. He sat back looking at me from a sideways glance. 

“You’ve been on edge all day,” He stated. 

“You haven’t even been with me all day,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Is something bothering you?” He asked. I groaned. 

“Fucking hell, would you just drop it Henry? I told you, I’m fine!” I shouted. Henry ran a hand through his hair and groaned in frustration. 

“I’m just trying to help,” He sighed. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t ask, I’m not some helpless damsel you need to save!” I argued. 

“I never said that!” he groaned. “But you’ve been stressed since you woke up this Morning.” He stated. 

“So?” I deflected, clearly agitated.  

So… who’s Luke?” He asked his voice calm. My stomach dropped. How did he know that name?

“I don’t know what your talking about…” I said shifting my eyes to the floor. 

“Alayna, when you were having your nightmare, you… said his name, asking him to stop. Who is he?” He asked again. I swallowed hard. I kept my eyes on the floor hidingn the tears that had started to well up. 

“No one, must’ve just been a name my brain came up with.” I lied. 

“Come on,” he pleaded. “I know you don’t think I’m that stupid.” He said. I looked up at him, eyes meeting his. He was hurt. Hurt that I was shutting him out. 

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all, I just… don’t want you to think I … to think less of me.” I sniffled. Henry brushed my hair out of my face and brushed his thumb across my cheek. 

“Talk to me, I want to understand.” He said. “Whatever is, I just want to help you,” he stated. I nodded. 

“He… is…was a friend of my brothers.” I started. “They were friends since they were kids, I new him since I was a baby.” I explained. Henry nodded. Keeping his hand on my back silently supporting me. I went on. “I thought I could trust him. I was so naive. He always seemed like a good guy. He came to town to celebrate my brothers birthday. And they came back drunk. He woke me up. Because he wanted to say hi. I got up to talk with them and when we went back to bed he… got into my bed. I thought he was joking at first. I thought he was gonna leave.” I looked at Henry. His face was calm, but I knew that he knew what I was going to say. I didn’t miss the anger in his eyes. But he stayed quiet. Letting me get it all out. “He was like a brother to me. I-I don’t know how he could touch me like that. But… I couldn’t do anything. It was wrong, it was so wrong but I was like frozen with fear or shock I don’t know. I know that I told him no. Once. something he wanted to do … I finally was able to find my voice but. It didn’t matter. The next morning he acted like nothing happened. I never said anything. I never pressed charges…nothing. It was years ago. In my dream I confronted him. He told me I couldn’t prove it. He wouldn’t own up to it. I yelled at him. And he tried to convince me I wanted it.. And he…he tried to come after me again.” I cried. Henry quickly wrapped me up in his arms pulling me into him. “That’s when I woke up.” I said.  I cried against Henry’s shoulder while he held me. He gently cooed in my ear as if consoling a baby. But it helped. It was the comfort I needed. The shoulder to cry on I never really had. He was quiet for a while. Letting me have this moment and then. 

“You know, none of that, is your fault.” He said. His voice soft. 

“But I.. let him.” I said. His jaw ticked. Trying to remain calm for me. 

“No, he may not have been violent or mean or angry. But he still forced you. He was bigger than you. You had no choice. But to let him do what he wanted. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve felt carrying this for so long. But I won’t let you do it alone anymore.” He said. 

“You don’t have to,” I sniffed. 

“The bastard is lucky he’s still breathing. He may not live anywhere near you but if he ever comes within a mile of you he’s a dead man.” He growled. 

“I’m sorry, about…” I started staring at the ground. 

“Look at me,” He cupped my face pulling my eyes back to his. “ I don’t care about some little argument. Or a stressful evening. I care about your wellbeing, your safety, and your peace of mind. There may not be much we can do about what happened. But I can help you feel safer, I can help you feel protected. That’s what matters. Let me care for you. Don’t be too proud to let me help you.” he pleaded.  I nodded. I was exhausted. Today had been so hard. I didn’t have the energy to be guarded anymore. 

“Okay,” I said. 

“You need rest love, you look exhausted.” He said softly. I nodded laying my head against his shoulder. Henry carried me to bed and I immediately curled myself around him. He smiled softly. 

“As long as I breathe. He will never, get to you,” He said softly. I nodded my breathing slowly as I listened to his heart beat. Henry softly stroked my hair and I felt my eyes lids get heavy. 

“Get some sleep darling, I’ll be right here,” he promised. My eyes closed and everything faded to black. And for the first time in a long time. I had a dreamless sleep. I was safe. Now. Truly safe. I didn’t have to fight this alone.

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

I don't feel like this is my best work but it is honest... I'm gonna add my taglist here but you so don't have to read it! if you do thank you! It's just away of me getting all my emotions out. Y'all are like my online emotional support group <3

@foxyjwls007

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@summersong69

@carrie80reads 

@identity2212 

@caramariehurst 

@redheadrouge 

@warriormirkwood  

@gummydummy19 

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[cycat-carisi]

Lonesome Superhero

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: Gator keeps hitting on you and you finally give him a piece of your mind. He's not the sweet boy you once knew anymore - or if he is, it's far too difficult to see.

Tags: No spoilers! Angst. Post episode 1 and 2.

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show

Length: ~1.3k

A/N: This just popped into my head and I needed to get it out. Gator is despicable and unless he has some major character growth, I can't bring myself to romanticize him. I do think his character is super intriguing though. I hope we get to dive deeper into what makes him tick throughout the season. (:

(Plus, I have a theory that Gator may have unintentionally been a witness to his mother's murder as a boy...)

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

It's in the way the frosted glass door harshly swings open that immediately lets you know who is behind it. There could only be one person who felt entitled enough to barge into a retirement home like he owned the place.

You swallow thickly. Not again.

Turning around from your medicine cart, you find him standing there in his camouflage cargo pants and a black t-shirt that is two sizes too tight. His hands perch on his hips as his narrowed eyes and cocky smirk aim in your direction.

"Gator, please. Not today," you speak coldly.

His smirk only grows. "Oh, c'mon, babycakes, you don’t know what you're missin'!"

"Gator!" you scold, trying to hush your voice in front of your patients. "Come with me, please." Anger bubbles up inside of you as Gator's face contorts into a triumphant grin. He saunters forward as you lead him toward the back entrance of the small facility.

In the shadow of the building, the fall air nips at your bare arms. The chill, however, is easily quelled by your boiling blood.

"How dare you come to my place of work!" You waste no time laying into the Tillman son.

Your ferocity catches Gator off-guard, causing panic to dart across his features. He takes a half-step back, pulling his head and neck along with it.

Oh, but you’re far from done with him.

"For weeks now, you've been popping up wherever I go, asking me to go out with you in the most degrading ways possible! Every. Single. Time. I have turned you down, yet you clearly cannot take ‘no’ for an answer! And now you have the audacity to show up at where I work and do the same? No! It doesn’t work like that, Gator. I worked hard for my career. I went to college, got my license, and came back here to help my community. I am respected in this building, and I will not tolerate you waltzing in here like God's gift to women and disrespecting me in front of my patients!"

Out of breath and seething, you continue to stare Gator down. He looks downright gobsmacked – a mixture of a wounded pup about to run and a cornered hound ready to bite.

The silence is deafening. You wait for Gator to snap back like he always does – some moronic comeback that's as pathetic as his barbed wire LOL tattoo.

And predictably, he does just that. "What the hell?!!" he cries out, stepping towards you and invading your space. The pungent odor from his last puff of vape wafts off his breath. "I'm the law in this town! I'm a winner! All you ever do is humiliate me! You're fucking awful!"

"I'm awful?!" you scoff, eyebrows shooting skyward. You're about to rip him a new one when you simply stop and shake your head in pity. "What happened to you, Gator?"

Once again, the Tillman son is rendered speechless. His dark brow pinches together in confusion. "Wha-?"

You seize your opportunity to dive a little deeper. "I mean, what happened to the Gator from middle school? The one who used to be my friend? The boy who was sweet and kind and would spend lunch hours reading comic books with me. It's like you suddenly woke up one day and decided to become an asshole, always acting out in class and purposely bullying other kids. Doing reckless shit because your dad could get you out of trouble. And now? I think you've gotten worse! Hell, Mrs. Lakeland told me that you all but pushed Gladys Baker out of the way at the corner store the other day. What the heck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?"

"I - I -" he stammers, head spinning. Then Gator swallows, puffing up his chest. "I take what's mine! I take what I'm owed. I made it through police training. People in this town owe me their respect, so I take it as I see fit."

"Newsflash! That's not how you get respect, sunshine," you retort. "Respect is earned, and from where I'm standing, all I see is a pathetic man-child whose daddy got him where he is today. 'My father is the sheriff' are the magic words that force people to step out of your way. That's not respect; that's notoriety from being a grade-A asshole!"

Gator's face twists into a snarl while his fists clench and unclench at his sides. You've clearly hit a nerve.

Even though you’d love nothing more than to lay into him some more, you remind yourself that it’s notworth the fight. Instead, your chest constricts with disappointment. "I don’t get it, Gator,” you speak softly. “Why do you let your father run your life? He says to jump and you ask how high. When are you gonna wake up and realize that he's just using you?"

If it wasn’t clear that you’d struck a nerve before, it certainly is now. Gator’s combat boot strikes the gravel, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt, and his cheeks glaze over with a deep red flush. "I don’t – He doesn’t –" Lost for words, Gator simply clamps his jaw shut. He kicks at the ground again and throws his hands to his hair, letting out a frustrated yell.

You hop back in surprise; a fearful gasp escapes you at his sudden outburst.

Gator's head whips back up, and those dark eyes meet yours.

Middle school was a long time ago, yet Gator remembers everything. He remembers how nice you were to him; how one day you saw this quiet boy sitting alone at lunch with a comic book and decided to come over and ask what he was reading. He used to dream of being as invincible as the superheroes in his books – Gator's way of shielding himself from everything that he'd seen. But then you came along and somehow made him feel a little less alone. He adored you and your friendship, eventually developing a little crush. That was, of course, before Gator was taught that girls weren't supposed to like comics, that men lead while women follow, and that his father's word was absolute. If he pleased his father, any situation could go Gator's way. The power sought after by characters in his comic books was right at Gator's fingertips; all he had to do was prove to the senior Tillman that he was worthy. Nothing else mattered.

And now? Gator almost had it. He was so close to having his father's approval. He was certain of it! Why couldn't you see that? Why couldn't you see how awesome he had become? He had buried his crush on you away while you were at college, but now that you were back, there was no reason to hide that he wanted you. And there should be no reason why you wouldn't want him either!

Except…your words today hurt. They made Gator feel puny and pathetic. How could you say that he was just his father's pawn?! He was his own man! A tough and strong and important man in this town...right?

You watch as despair briefly flashes across Gator's face before quickly being replaced by aggravation. He grunts again prior to spinning on his heels and stalking off.

No! Gator is his own man, and you were just the type of woman his father had warned him about! His crush is stupid, and so are you...

As Gator storms off, his ears catch your quiet words laced with pity. "Silly me for thinking that the sweet guy who read comics with me would still be in there.”

For the first time since he was a boy, tears stab at Gator's eyes. He scrunches his eyes closed and shakes his head, instead focusing on the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he slinks away.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

| Series masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

just keep driving

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie is driving a car that he hates, so you decide to do something special to distract him. 

word count: 1.8k

warnings: road head (aka getting 👅🍆 while driving), female masturbation, just general smut. 

a/n: sorry if this has been done before! i was inspired to make this post into a blurb, so here it is. i hope you guys like it!

minors dni!

_________________________

“I really hate this damn car.”

Eddie was grumbling again, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes from the passenger seat. Ever since his van went into the shop for repairs, he hadn’t stopped being a grouch; it was only because his borrowed car was smaller than he was accustomed to, and therefore more difficult for him to drive. He had been driving it since yesterday, and you honestly didn’t know why he was making such a fuss. You thought the car was nice enough, and you liked it a lot better than the van. The van was fine enough, but it drove terribly; the current car was smoother, less likely to break down in the middle of the road, and didn’t smell of weed, cigarettes, and sex yet. 

“You know,” you said, stretching your legs as you cracked your knuckles, “maybe if you spent less time complaining and more time focusing on getting us somewhere, we would actually arrive a lot sooner.”

“Don’t get cute,” Eddie said, his gaze fixed intently on the road. 

“I just thought I’d mention it,” you said, smoothing down the skirt of your dress. You reached for the radio, turning the music up a little more so that you could listen properly. It was a mixtape Eddie made, with a bunch of metal artists that he enjoyed. Judas Priest was playing now, and you reached over to brush your fingers through his hair. “You look hot driving this thing, you know.”

“Nah, I look like a fucking clown in his little car,” Eddie said, but he was grinning. He nudged into your touch, which encouraged you to give his hair a light tug. “Like, how could you look at me and think I’m a hot stud in this? That van helped me achieve my sex god status; without it, I have no charisma.”

“No, your hair is what gave you the sex god status,” you joked with a giggle, leaning over to nuzzle his cheek. “Not to mention those eyes, those hands, the fact that you’re in a band…and let’s not forget that nice, thick cock.”

He shivered at those last words, biting his lip to suppress a groan. “Shit, y/n…”

“You know what you could use right now?” you asked, your fingers ghosting over the front of his jeans in a circular motion. “A good distraction. You’ve done nothing but whine about this goddamn car all day long. What you need is something to take your mind off of it, and make you forget all about the fact that you’re driving a ‘clown car.’ Your words, not mine.” 

“And just what do you propose as a distraction?” Eddie asked, clearly amused. “Hm? Are you gonna make me play ‘I Spy?’ like a five year old? Or better yet, and the most effective by far, are you gonna flash your tits at me?”

“No to both,” you said, your mouth now at his ear as you shifted a bit in your seat. “I had something a bit more…daring in mind.”

“Humor me,” Eddie said, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel as he kept driving. “This should be good.”

“How about,” you whispered, ignoring his quip and palming his cock through his pants, “I suck you off while you drive? I'll bet you’d really like that, wouldn’t you? You would have to keep your focus on the road, but also on me and what I'm doing to you. I know you love it when I choke on your cock; maybe I’d even let you fuck my throat, and maybe I’ll play with myself while I do it. I did skip out on wearing anything under this dress, after all.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathed, bucking into your hand as you felt him growing harder. 

“Is that a yes, then?” you teased, kissing over his neck. Your lips were soft and teasing, very gently nipping at the most delicate area that he loved. “What is it that you always tell me, Eddie? That I need to speak up and be vocal with you about what I want?”

“Smart ass,” Eddie replied, his grip iron-clad on the wheel as the music blared from the speakers. W.A.S.P. was in the middle of singing “On Your Knees,” and your fingers were working his fly & belt loose. “You know I fucking love it when you blow me. I’m not going to refuse it; I never could.”

“I know you never could,” you said with a wink, pulling him in for a very quick kiss before you repositioned yourself in your seat. You unbuckled your seatbelt, smiling as you started squeezing him again through his pants. “Wanna know one good thing about this car that we can’t do in your van?”

“What?” Eddie asked, his eyes already glazing as he waited for you to begin. He lifted his hips as best as he could while trying to drive, allowing you to tug them down far enough to expose his cock and his balls. “Tell me.”

“It has too much space between the seats,” you said, leaning over after freeing his semi-erection and teasingly kissing the tip. “I would never be able to do this in it.” 

“You’re right,” he said, hissing as your tongue swirled the head of his cock. “You’re going to be the death of me, y/n. You know that, don’t you?” 

“I definitely could be, if you wreck this car,” you said with a breathy laugh, pumping his cock to full hardness before licking from the base of his shaft to the tip. “So, maybe try not to do that? I really don’t wanna die yet.”

He whimpered, reaching over and cranking the music almost full blast. Metallica began rocking “Master of Puppets” as you took him slowly into your mouth, his moans nearly drowned by the music as you gagged around him. One hand left the steering wheel to grab at your hair, his head tipped against the seat as he tried so hard to keep focus on the road. You swallowed around his cock, your tongue pressing flat to the shaft as you brought your head up, then back down. You wasted absolutely no time, bobbing along to the rhythm of the song, a fast pace that made Eddie moan filthily above you. You grasped his base with one hand, jerking him off in time with your other movements. Your hand was slick with your spit, the blowjob already so sloppy that some of your saliva was running down his balls. 

“Shit,” he drawled, breathing heavily as he held the steering wheel tightly in one hand, and kept hold of your head with the other. His knuckles were white from his grasp, his lashes fluttering as he struggled to concentrate on driving. His plush lips were parted, his groans barely audible above the blaring metal soundtrack that served as the backdrop tonight. “Just like that, fuck.” 

You moaned around him for added vibration, hollowing your cheeks as he cursed above you. You kept your fist closed around the bottom of his shaft, the fingers of your free hand moving under your skirt to drag through your soaked cunt. A small part of your dress that was against you had gotten wet, and you suspected a small portion of your seat probably would be as well. You were so turned on for him, your pussy throbbing as you deep throated him a few times. He held onto your head, and began to guide it along his cock after a moment. You rubbed at your clit, tracing circles as you mewled, and gagging as he took you a little too deeply.

“Sorry,” he said over the music, chuckling as his foot pressed harder against the gas pedal. “You okay?”

You hummed around him in assurance, and gripped the base to keep him from sliding too far again. You allowed him to fuck your throat, his fingers in your hair as he set his own pace. He was throbbing in your mouth, the vein pulsating against your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks as far as you could. You pushed two fingers into your slick cunt, fingering yourself at a speed on par with the music. Eddie turned it up even louder, the car vibrating now with the beat. He was driving fast—maybe a little too fast—but you were only getting more and more aroused with every drag of your head and pump of your fingers. 

“Jesus fuck, look at you,” Eddie said, gazing down at you for a quick moment. “You’re so horny because of how dangerous this is, aren’t you? That’s my fucking girl.” 

You whimpered around him, more spit cascading your fist as he guided your head up & down with one hand. You helped him, of course, going along with his rhythm as you jerked him off into your mouth. You flicked your wrist, moaning once in a while as the fingers under your skirt continued playing with your pussy. You curled your fingers inside of you, your thumb swiping quickly over your clit for added stimulation. He flew around a turn and you almost slid off the seat, but you regained yourself quickly as the lengthy song played on. The combination of the music and the taste of precum that was on your tongue made you dizzier with arousal, and you added another finger to fuck yourself on as you mewled filthily around him. 

“Does it feel good?” Eddie questioned. “I’ll bet it does; you’re fingering yourself like a common slut. Thinking about me inside of you, or my head between your legs? Both?”

You moaned hotly, and before Eddie could cum, he was tugging you off of his dick. You whined as you sat up, still touching yourself as you looked at him. His face was shiny in the evening light, his big eyes trained on you for a very brief moment, both of his hands now on the wheel as he decreased the speed. He moved your wrist from beneath your skirt to study your fingers, smirking as he saw how soaked they were. He made a noise of satisfaction, then held your own fingers to your lips.

“Clean those for me,” he said, thrusting them even closer to your face. “Go on; taste yourself, and show me just how desperate you are for me right now.”

You didn’t hesitate, drawing your fingers into your mouth. He slowed down further to watch, his eyes lusty and face full of desire. You made a show of it—swirling your tongue around the digits, hollowing your cheeks, groaning over the music, making your gaze as innocent as possible. He shivered, growling as he pulled off on the shoulder and put the car in park. He completely reclined his seat and coaxed you into his lap to straddle him, an effort that you had a feeling would shortly pay off. He was squeezing your ass in both heavily-ringed hands, his fingers kneading the flesh there before giving it a swat. He kissed you heatedly, swallowing your laugh as his hips pushed upward against your soaked pussy. He only drew away when the song finished, giving way to yet another Metallica tune—“For Whom the Bell Tolls.” 

“I see that your mind has changed drastically about this thing,” you teased, gesturing around the car. 

“Oh, you have no fucking idea, babe,” Eddie said, gliding his cock through your pussy. He didn’t enter you yet, both of you moaning at the heavy weight of his erection sliding against your wet cunt. “But I would be more than happy to give you one.”

—————————-

taglist: @littledemondani @korescomaactually @dumpsterfireoflove @erosso @strangerthings64 @fourlokiss @dylobilysmomg @sweet-beliefs @pedrosrealgf @eddiemunsonssslut

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I start hooking up with my hook-up's friend?

Some background info is necessary here. I'm aromantic and I've always been completely open about that and as upfront about what a relationship with me will (and, more importantly, won't) entail. I met this particular guy on a dating website like OKCupid or something like that, I don't remember exactly which one. We got along and were attracted to each other so I sat him down and had my usual talk with him about what he could expect and what he should never expect and whether or not that was a relationship he was okay with having. He said yes, so we started doing basically a FWB thing.

He's incredibly hot and we are very compatible sexually (which is honestly not super common for me tbh lol). The problem is, he often gets clingy and weepy and complains to me about how lonely he is and that he really wants a romantic relationship, complete with things about how no one will ever love him and those types of sayings. I've talked to him about it a few times and asked if he was sure he wanted to keep doing this with me when I will never be able to meet that need. We're also not exclusive at all, so I usually respond to this kind of thing by encouraging him to keep seeing other people/keep putting himself out there/etc and hyping him up and stuff. Every time we talk about it he says he's good to go, that he totally understands my aromanticism and he won't try to push for romance from me, and like I said it's kind of difficult for me to find people who also want the sex I want (I guess I'm kind of kinky and a stone top which in my experience a lot of guys are not into idk) and especially to find people who are interested in sex and dating with no actual romantic feelings or intent. So I've been sticking with him even though he keeps bringing this up and kind of (seemingly) implying that he wants things from me I've told him repeatedly I can't give. I don't want to hurt his feelings by still sleeping with him if he wants love, but I'm basically operating on the assumption that he's a big boy who can make his own decisions and I've been honest with him and understanding, at least as far as I'm concerned.

That's the backstory, now we reach the issue I'm actually asking about. A few days ago, maybe as an early birthday present for me or maybe just coincidentally, this guy had a friend over at the same time as me and we ended up having a threesome. It was great! I really liked the other person involved and we were all compatible and had a lot of fun. They gave me their number on my way out.

So I've been texting with this person, that my long term (I guess, depending on your definition of "long term") hook-up introduced me to via a threesome, and they have asked me if I want to hook up again with just them. Which I totally do. I know I wouldn't be an asshole to start seeing them in addition to the first guy because we're not exclusive and never have been, and I've made myself clear from the beginning that we never would be. My question is would I be the asshole if I started seeing this person that he introduced me to via a threesome, and also stopped having sex with him (I would be open to still being friends who don't have sex, but somehow I doubt he would be very interested in that).

The thing is, this new person is also aromantic, so I know that a non-romantic sexual relationship that stays non-romantic would actually for sure be okay with them. I wouldn't have to worry a) about hurting their feelings because they want something from me I can't give, or b) them repeatedly implying they want more or thought I could change my mind eventually or whatever. But... It just seems like it might be a bit of a dick move when he introduced us for group sex and then to... cut him out of the group, I guess.

So... would I be the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Ok, I just found your wonderful blog and can't help myself, I have to ask for a request TwT One of my too many ideas would be: HLC's reaction - professors included - to Mc's Excuse after MC was really mean in an argument. I have an almost-Slytherin-but-then-Hufflepuff-MC, so...xD If you would like to do that - pls feel free to make it as fluffy or serious as you like - it would make me "Happy as Fig"....yes, thank you a lot! <3

A/N: I feel this one on a personal level. Let's make it soft with MC saying sorry

HLC REACT TO MC APOLOGIZING AFTER A HEATED ARGUMENT

MC: They know there's no real excuse for what they said. They could give their reasons, prescriptive and feelings at the time of the argument but they can't un-say what left their mouth. They almost wished they knew how to use the memory charm. Then they might not be standing there awkwardly awaiting the judgment from their friends and professors.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He sighs. "If we haven't been through what we have up to this point, I wouldn't accept your apology. But...we've both said things we regret. No point in dwelling." He smiles and offers the seat next to him for them to join him for study. When they sit down, he whispers out the side of his mouth. "Now, if you want me to forget, on top of forgiving you, you'll help me with my most recent relic discovery."

OMINIS GAUNT: He's been rigidly silent since the argument. MC almost walks away before he finally speaks. "I'm tired, MC. I'm tired of people hurting me. While I understand that words are difficult when emotions run high, please, don't say things you don't mean." His entire world is transcribed in sound, so people's words mean more to him than most. MC's apology better be sincere if they hope to keep him as a friend.

ANNE SALLOW: MC's apology leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, no matter how sincere they are. She's heard these types of "I'm sorry" speeches from Sebastian and her uncle before. Do they really expect her to forget everything just because they feel bad? "I'll accept your apology, on the condition that you don't speak to me like that going forward. If a conversation becomes too heated, I think at best if we take a break and let cooler heads prevail."

IMELDA REYES: "Oh, you're sorry? Go boil your head." She practically spits at them as she returns to what she's doing. She doesn't forgive easily. She's burned too many bridges in her life to care about one more. At least, that's what she keeps trying to tell herself. What MC had said really hurt and she hates the fact that they have that sort of effect on her.

NATSAI ONAI: "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have let my pride escalate things the way they did. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this position. It is big of you to apologize first. Thank you, my friend." She opens her arms for a hug. If MC isn't a hugger, she just gives them a smile.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He won't admit it to them, but he had screwed up more than one brew from accidentally crying into it. What they said really hurt and now that they were apologizing, he was struggling to keep it together. "No, I'm not- *sniff* crying. I got batwing fumes in my eyes. I....I just want us to be friends again, okay?"

LEANDER PREWETT: He didn't have much self esteem before he met MC, and now that his worst fears were confirmed by them berating him because he disagreed with them, he felt worse than ever. Hearing them apologize to him felt surreal. No one ever apologized to him. Somehow, he was always in the wrong. He feels more vulnerable than ever. "So...does this mean you don't hate me?"

AMIT THAKKAR: He stubbornly holds on to his frustration with MC. He KNOWS he's in the right. They were being unreasonable and resorted to insults out of egotistical retaliation. They surprise him when they come back. "I'll admit, I didn't think I'd see you again for a while. It takes a lot for someone to swallow their pride and admit they were wrong. Thank you, for apologizing."

EVERETT CLOPTON: He thought that was it. MC didn't want to be his friend anymore. He couldn't look them in the eye, even when they needed to tell him something important. He's stuck in his own head until he hears them say the words "I'm sorry." He snaps out of it and stares wide eyed at them. "Really? You mean it? This isn't...you're not messing with me, are you?" He needs some reassurance, but afterwards he'll forgive it easily.

POPPY SWEETING: "Well look who came crawling back." Her eyes are full of malice. This won't be an easy apology. As soft spoken as she is, her heart is hardened to people who've wronged her. It's her defense mechanism. MC will have to do more than say, they'll have to prove it.

~~~

MC's got a lot of gall to think arguing with their professors was a good idea.

ELEAZAR FIG: He knows them better than anyone else in the school. They'd come around, they just needed space. He hadn't punished them for what they said. He smiles warmly when they come back and puts a hand on their shoulder. "It takes a lot of courage to admit you're wrong. Thank you, for showing how much you've grown and matured. I know plenty of adults who wouldn't do what you've just done. They would double down, if anything else. I'm proud of you."

MATILDA WEASLEY: She had taken SO many house points. No one argues with the deputy headmistress and gets away with it unscathed. "It isn't to me you should apologize. I'm sure your housemates aren't too pleased to hear that they are now in dead last because of you. Better get to work earning those back."

CHIYO KOGAWA: "Nothing like manual labor to bring out the regret of one's actions." She had them organizing and repairing the quidditch supplies without magic. "Thank you for apologizing, now get back to it. The quidditch season may have been canceled this year, but it needs to be ready for the next."

AESOP SHARP: He gives them an indeterminate reply to their apology, but, deep down, he's impressed. While they had certainly gone too far with their argument, they apologized for making it personal. He can relate to being so passionate about something that you're willing to defend it, tooth and nail. That didn't stop him from taking house points and giving them detention. They were stuck organizing and counting the alchemy supplies.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He hadn't taken house points or given detention. While what they said was certainly disrespectful, he did not believe that the lashing of adolescence should be so strongly punished. They were clearly passionate about their argument. He only wished he could understand their point of view better. He's proud of them for apologizing and rewards them with house points.

MIRABEL GARLICK: As much as she tries to keep her teaching environment positive, she will not stand for disrespectful behavior. She takes house points and dismisses MC before she gives them detention. Her heart melts when MC returns looking so sorrowful and full of regret. She forgives everything and is willing to let bygones be bygones, just don't let it happen again.

MUDIWA ONAI: MC's boldness doesn't surprise her. As long as it was just the two of them, she was willing to let everything slide. If MC had tried doing that in front of students, she would have to make an example of them. She doesn't take house points or gives detention, merely expresses her disappointment. It must have done the trick, because MC almost immediately apologized.

BAI HOWIN: MC must have been aching to muck out the beast pens by hand, speaking to her in such a way, because that's exactly what they got. Three consecutive days of detention just to clean every single beast pen. She nods curtly when they apologize.

DINAH HECAT: She isn't phased in the slightest by MC's outburst, but her eyes tell MC they have gone too far. There's a darkness in them warning MC to back down before she puts them down. "I suggest you get to your next lesson, MC. Wouldn't want you to get lost. Hogwarts is as unforgiving as it is beautiful to those who exploit it's patience." She walks away, not particularly accepting or denying any apology.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He was taken aback by MC so fervently accosting him. He had never been spoken to in such a way by a student in life or in death. He wasn't really sure how to handle it. He gives them a nod when they eventually apologize. "Very good then. Now...in 1252, the goblins-"

SATYAVATI SHAH: She gave detention. That's where MC surprised her with their sincere apology. She narrows her eyes, searching for any sign of weakness. They passed. "I'm sure you've seen the error of your ways, but you still have to finish polishing all of the telescopes by hand."

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: They're lucky they weren't expelled for what they said. He haughtily huffs and shoos them away like they're an annoying gnat. "Your detentions start tonight. I suggest you get going." He did have slight satisfaction that they were apologetic, but that was likely only because they had detention every night for the rest of the year.

[wendysimp]

Best Lollipop Ever!

This is my first ever smut soooooo…. I hope you guys enjoy. Or don’t, that’s completely up to you.

Wendy Red Velvet X Male Reader

Warning⚠️ Step Siblings Smut! Quickie!

Another boring Saturday. Parents aren’t home, everyone is busy, and it’s just me and my stupid step sister here watching tv. “Ugh! Why do I have to be stuck with you?” My sister leans her head back as she licks her lollipop.

“It’s not like I wanted to be stuck here with you either!” She gets annoying here and there. But I’m used to it.

She sighs and closes her eyes as she began to suck on the lollipop. I watched as I imagined her sucking something else- No Y/n! She’s your step sister! My horny ass couldn’t help but come up with an idea of something that could either get me killed or could get me in big trouble… and possibly killed after.

“Hey Wendy, do you wanna play a game?” I asked her and she opens her eyes and looks at me with a bored look on her face.

“Why would I play a boring game with someone so boring?” She raised her eyebrow as if she looked disgusted.

I roll my eyes and keep trying to convince her. “Oh come on, let’s just play. We have nothing to do anyways.”

She thinks about it and finally gives in. “Ugh! Fine! What stupid game are we playing?” She asks as she sits up straight while sucking on her lollipop.

“How about we play a game where you’re blindfolded, and have to guess what lollipop you’re tasting?” I asked her. At first she tells me how much of a stupid game it was but finally agreed after convincing her some more. I get up and tell her I’ll be back as I get a blindfold and some lollipops then come right back to her. “Okay wear this. Make sure you can’t peak.” I tell her

“This is so stupid.” She whispered under her breath as she puts on the blindfold. “This is gonna be easy. Let’s hurry up and play so I could take a shower.” She tells me as she wanted to get this over with. I smirked as I unwrapped the first lollipop pop which was a bubblegum flavour.

“Okay, open up sis, first lollipop is coming in and you have to guess the flavour.” I say and she tells me to hurry up. She opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. I try to control myself and keep my cool as I make sure she gets a taste. She licks the lollipop trying to figure out what it was then after a few seconds, she made her guess.

“Easy, bubblegum.” She guesses and my eyes widened as I was surprised she guessed that quick.

“Wow, that was it. Okay, now time for the next one.” I opened the next flavour which was a cola flavour then give it to her to make a guess. “Okay, make your guess Wendy.” I tell her which she tries to guess but keeps licking it to get familiar with the flavour which she finally got.

“That was a little difficult for a second but it’s cola flavour.” She guessed and I tell her she’s right. She giggled and tells me how easy and stupid this game was and asks for a more challenging one. “Come on Y/n. Give me a hard one.” She says confidently.

I smirked as she said that and felt my pants tighten. “Oh don’t worry. I got a ‘hard’ one for you.” I undo my belt and pull my under and pants off slowly as my cock sprung out almost hitting her chin. Thank god it didn’t hit her. I would’ve been dead right then and there. “Okay, you ready?”

“Uhuh.” She has her mouth open wide and tongue sticking out as she was ready.

“It’s not a normal lollipop though. It’s a very big one so you have to keep licking and sucking till you get a taste.” I bite my lip as my cock was so close to her face, I could feel her hot breath against my hard on.

She raises her eyebrows again clearly confused but just went with it. “Really? Okay, well I’m ready anyways. This’ll be easy.” She says with confidence.

I smirked then slowly bring my tip onto her tongue which I felt chills go down my spine. I try to keep myself together as I felt her lick my tip. “Hmm, that’s weird.” She says. “Can I suck it? To get a better taste?” She asks and I of course said yes. What I didn’t expect next was feeling her hand wrap around my shaft as she began to suck on my hard and throbbing cock. I bite onto my hand so I don’t let out a moan. I hold her hair up as I tell her that I’ll make sure it doesn’t get all messed up. She said nothing as she kept sucking while her tongue slides against the underside of my shaft as she was desperately trying to get a taste.

I was going crazy as she kept going then lean over to get my phone and start to record for me to watch later. “Mmm that’s it, just keep sucking and you’ll get a taste.” I say as I try to control my breathing.

“Mmm, mmm d-dis- lollipop- is so big” she says as she kept sucking. I felt myself getting close and make her take my cock a little deeper and keep her in place as I give her a load of my warm cum. She gathers all of it and pulls away as she starts to swallow it all.

“W-wow, that was a weird lollipop… a fucking huge one.” I quickly cover myself up and sit down hoping she didn’t notice anything. I start to get nervous as she takes off her blindfold and looks at me. “Why are you sweating?” She asks me and I quickly wipe it off.

“O-Oh it’s nothing.” I giggled awkwardly. “Anyway, wanna take a guess?” I asked her and she tried guessing a lot of flavours but I tell her it’s all wrong.

“What kind of flavour is it then?” She asks curiously and confused.

“It’s a special flavoured lollipop. Did you like it?” I asked as I smile at her as if nothing happened.

“Well it was a weird taste at first, but at the end I got to taste the flavour. And I won’t lie I think it was the best flavour lollipop ever! I might need some more later. Can you get me some more?” She asks and I nodded. She thanks me and gets up “well Y/n, I’m gonna take a shower. The game wasn’t so bad. See you later dumbass. You better make sure to give me that big lollipop later.” She says as she leaves to go upstairs to shower.

“Oh I will, don’t worry.” I sighed with relief and lay back on the couch as I look at the ceiling with a big smile on my face. “Hmm, she did mention she will have some friends over. Maybe they’re really hot too.”

To be continued…

Hopefully it was a little enjoyable. I’m still trying to improve my writing but I hope this one is decent. Thanks for reading. More to come soon