#which is objectively pathetic but alright

[monomorphilogical]

The list

Good lord, how I am unable to admit some things to myself.

This morning, it was merely I, who stared into the bathroom mirror; no soul around but my own haggard one. The mirror, partially fogged, did not even show the fullness of me, and yet, yet I could not make myself say the words to my own reflection.

Lord, I was barely able to think them clearly; only a mere concept floating around my head with a notion of truth, not whole and not untrue. I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, and I clamped my teeth together hard enough to ache even now, deep into the afternoon.

So hereby; the list of everything I cannot say, but I will force myself to do so anyhow. For the sake of honesty, bravery and spite.

I have been staring at this empty list for twenty-five minutes, hand covering my mouth, astonished, that I cannot even write down the truths on paper. This is because I am terrified of admitting that which makes me vulnerable.

Vulnerability makes me believe I am one of the weak, not because I am better than those vulnerable, but because it opens up the possibility of getting harmed, ridiculed, ignored.

I often get the urge to bury a knife in the middle of my thigh, as a protest, perhaps as a distraction, or punishment.

A gentle touch wakes up a starving animal within me; and it screams to be beaten into a pulp until it cannot growl any longer.

I do not know what love-making truly is, I have never experienced it, and a sick part of me would rather be beaten and gutted than find out.

I understand pain, I do not understand those who do not.

I am writing down these truths first to avoid the ones I am struggling to admit.

I am more comfortable talking about the act of abuse than about the yearning of care.

Sex makes me want to scream out for them to 'tear me apart' because I cannot handle a hand laid upon my skin any longer. No matter the heavy-handedness, nor gentleness (which may be worse).

I think I am very sensitive.

I experience thought, emotion, and art quite deeply; it is like a wound that cannot close.

I feel like a small girl still, and it is bothersome to look into the mirror and see someone so very grown up.

I dislike my mother, and her tendency to manipulate my convictions and emotions, it took me far too long to understand what were her opinions and what were my own.

I wish I had a father who cared for me, and I wish he was one to keep me safe; instead of the source of danger.

I was just a little girl, and I needed my father to hold me, and I needed my mother to listen to me.

I still need my father to hold me, and my mother to be kind to me. (though I will never have this, for this is not something they can ever offer me; nor can I ever accept any form of care from them)

I am fairly certain that I do not know what love is, precisely.

I do not know how to possibly love, but also I do not know how to hate.

I am terrified of being less than someone deserves; or being bothersome.

I am also fairly certain I will make many mistakes in any relationship, and though I will try my hardest; it is up to them to decide if I am worth it. That terrifies me.

I do not believe I am worth it.

I do not believe I am worth anything to anyone but myself.

Intimacy, in any form, is my greatest enemy, and I fear I will fight it until my knuckles crack and bleed.

I am vulnerable.

I want to be cared for.

I am tired of being responsible of care, I want someone to take it off my hands every once in a while.

I crave to be held.

I crave someone to tell me it is all well. No matter the truth in it.

I wish I had someone to look out for me.

I spend all my pastime in my own head; reading books, listing to music, imagining some other version of my life, anything to escape the crushing weight that are my horrid memories.

I am afraid I will not be able to escape in this way were I to be in a relationship.

I am afraid that will make life dull, since all that lives in my head is the horror and grotesque and dramatics, and I have gotten very much used to the intensity of it all.

Almost none of my scars are because of accidents, clumsiness or the cat. I am good at making them look like they are.

I tell people all of them are from my teenage years. It’s only a half-truth.

Were I not afraid of its consequences, I would slash open the entirety of my body.

I often get the inexplicable urge to sink my teeth into my own skin. I do not know why. It makes my teeth ache with want. I suspect it is a form of self destruction.

I am afraid that when I cry to be torn apart, I am really crying to be held gently. I suspect you have to restrain me first, for I will try to kick and scream as you do so.

I want someone to be strong enough to restrain me until I can be held with gentle hands.

I do not know how to ask for anything.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

God the idea of Simon having a s/o that's like wayyy shorter than him something like 5'5 is doing things to me. This man is 6'4 something and he's HUGEEE AF, like i think it would be a turn on for him, having his babe so small underneath him. And i don't even need to get into how probably big he is down there too? The struggle to take him in everytime but the afterwards is a pure bliss. Ugh.

Like, i agree with what you said, this man is an epitome of masculinity. And the need and want to take care, love and protect his mate. <3 <3

Mmm. Mmmm.

Ok I'm just gonna leave this here.

Original photo: @ S0CIALHUNTER on Twitter

This is not a Drill

Word count: 2.2 k

Tags/warnings: SMUT 🔞, a dash of fluff, size kink (obviously), size difference, swearing, premature ejaculation, penetrative sex toy. F!Reader.

A/N: Gaahh. No poetry this time. Just pure filth. Enjoy 🍽

This might just be one of your better ideas.

You've done this in secret for two weeks now, hoping by the time he arrives, you'll be able to surprise him with how well you've trained yourself to receive him.

If you can take a large toy so well, day after day, it should help with taking him in more easily too. Right?

As in, take in the biggest dick you've ever had and, god willing, will ever have.

You're actually quite proud of yourself. Not only does this thing keep you juicy, but it also makes you thirst for him even more. The need to have something even bigger inside you, the knowledge that he can provide that bigger thing, makes your lips purse, makes your walls throb as you remind yourself that tomorrow, your man will finally come home.

…Except that the stealthy fucker has chosen to arrive a day early. You don't even hear him before he's at your bedroom door. Fuck his profession, fuck all that experience in sneaking around, even with all that mass…

He comes in just in time to see how the said dong comes out, slick with your wetness.

Oh shit–

"Well. What do we have here?"

He looks at the brutal object in your hand, then raises his eyes to you – flustered you, lying all naked and throbbing and flushed on the bed. He can barely hold back a smile, but it's his eyes that laugh with an amused gleam.

"Careful or you'll hurt yourself with that thing."

That's some cheese coming from someone who's even bigger than the crude thing in your hand…

"You said you'd come tomorrow," you mewl as your excuse. He cocks his head a little, raises an eyebrow.

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not, but–"

"You want help with that?"

He gives a side eye to the toy still in your hand. You blink a few times, then reach to set it somewhere, anywhere – the bedside table has to do, but you're too clumsy, and the toy drops to the floor and rolls at his feet.

Jesus, could things get any more embarrassing?

He examines the sorry thing with a stare that says How pathetic. Because even if to you, it's gigantic, it's nothing compared to what he's got in those pants. And he knows it too.

"Now ain't this convenient. I can go straight in, right?"

"I– I'm not sure," you breathe with anticipation.

"Let's give it a try then."

He doesn't even wait for your admission, which would only be a blaring, blazing Yes please sir. He doesn't trouble himself with undressing, merely crawls to the bed and over you.

He pulls back only to get himself out of those jeans, and it always looks like he's drawing out a massive weapon. Even in his hands, which are fucking huge, the cock looks like an oversized beast. He's fully hard, too, probably started to gather blood there the minute he saw you on that bed, puny and shy and caught red-handed.

And he's as impatient as can be: finally, there's a chance he can drive that cock right in, that he doesn't have to warm you up for half an hour with mouth and fingers and hear you cry when it still takes a few tears and some swearing as he guides it inside.

But the toys are no help, it seems. The massive head of his cock disappears in you, alright… But that doesn't mean it feels safe or sound.

"Oh, no. No, no."

He halts, hovering over you with just the tip inside, pulsing wildly.

"No?"

Ugh, why did you have to pick the biggest colossus of a man to be your fuck buddy for the rest of your life?

"Just… slowly, ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

He swallows and gets back to it, more slowly this time, and the spread is delicious – but it's also blinding, and you always have to remind yourself to keep breathing.

You just need to relax; it can fit, it has been there dozens of times before…

"Fuck, you're– you're even tighter down here," he groans with a dry throat and a heavy accent that makes you instantly clench around him.

It appears that you have only managed to train your inner muscles with that ridiculous dildo.

So much for trying to coax yourself open with toys…

He feeds more of that thickness in, in, in, until his balls make contact; they press against your flesh while your pussy hugs him with a perfect O shape. You bite your lip and hold your breath, and you're not the only one gaping at the scene in mild shock and admiration.

"Look at that…"

He doesn't even bother to tone down the drunken arousal in his voice which always drops down a few notes when he's fucking you. But every now and then, it's tinged with concern. How the hell can you even take him fully in?

He glances your way with the smallest smile playing at the corner of his mouth, muscles taut with anticipation. The man simply can't wait to ruin you.

"You ready?"

No…??

You give him a frail little nod and some high-pitched, broken whimpers from your mouth.

"Uh-huh?"

He chuckles, then withdraws, slowly… But the next thrust is not that gentle, and your brows knit together in pleasure and pain. Well, it's not exactly pain, just… It's a little too much. If the angle was even slightly off, it would hurt. The wetness no doubt helps this business, but you still find your teeth sinking into your lower lip again – he starts to roll his hips, fuck you with experimental thrusts that, blessedly, don't plunge too deep.

You feel your inner walls both accommodate him and tighten around him; greedy, like it's no problem at all to have far too big a shaft stuffed down there. And not just crammed, but plowing: back and forth like you're a toy, too.

"What in the bloody hell have you been doing…"

He detects the tense muscles that pull him in every time he reaches the base. You're too small for him; that fact was established long ago. But added with the clenching and throbbing pulse of your cunt, a fervor that tries to suck him like he's a fat stick of candy cane makes his jaw gradually fall open. The man looks like he's going to pass out.

"Were you doing that shit for me?"

You smile and flutter your lashes innocently, all the while a giant is trying to work his giant cock in you.

"Yup. Welcome home, I guess?"

He looks at you, not with mirth, but with reproof. You're playing with fire, toying with a sharp blade, and teasing a man of his size might not be the best of your ideas.

But that's exactly what you are; a goddamn tease. You just can't help it. You know he gets an equal kick out of this setting: of you being so small. Anyone is small compared to him, but you're small compared to anyone. Next to him–not to talk under him–you look like a helpless doll.

And perhaps that's what this is all about: perhaps one of these days, you want him to wreck you.

Use you.

Even the very thought makes your cunt wrap around him again. Massive thighs at least twice the size of yours force your legs wide apart as he goes deeper – so deep that you can feel those balls again, hefty slaps against you as he tries to bury himself inside a place he's not meant to fit.

You always wonder what you look like under him, disappearing entirely under a dark shadow and hundreds of pounds of muscle. Spreading your thighs to offer too tight a slit to what's practically a monster. It must always be forced inside with sweat, patience, and needy grunts. How insane it must look for that thing to disappear inside you again and again until you're loaded with him… His cum never stays inside before you reach the shower, but the feel of it running down your thighs is absolutely glorious.

You notice he slows down the pace, which is odd. Normally, he's fucking you with abandon at this point.

"What's wrong?"

He huffs above you, chest swelling with shallow, alarmed breaths.

"Wrong? What's right, more like…"

He resumes with a thrust or two, looks down to where you are joined, and lets out an aggravated groan.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" He draws back as if to pull out completely, and you whine a complaint. A decision is made right away; he sinks back inside, fills you again and again, until…

"I think I'm gonna cum," he informs with apologetic alarm.

Oh.. Right.

… Already?

"It's ok… it's ok," you sweep your hands up his back, clutch him to make it known that he can collapse like a tower upon you, and you would only feel enthusiastic about getting buried under the rubble.

Use me.

Just fucking take me.

The look on his face is a rare glimpse behind the walls of a remorseless soldier: something primal but vulnerable, something fragile that only you are allowed to see.

"You can use me," you whisper, and it's like a spell that calls upon disaster.

"Ah, Christ…"

It takes only a split-second before he accepts your offer in full. You're planted in the mattress with starved thrusts, his thighs and chest spread you open until he's drilling you in an almost 90 degree angle. You're concerned for the bed's capacity to take this sort of plowing when you should perhaps worry more about your poor abused pussy.

It's such a heaven that your jaw falls open, too. You're dreamy and helpless under him while he's far from feeble. He looks like thunder above you, especially when you're looking at him like he's a demigod.

Like you're in love.

Which you are… And he knows it, even without that adoring bimbo stare you give him.

"Gonna–cum. Fuck, I'm gonna–"

You can almost see the sweat breaking, can feel the cock inside you jolting even when there's no room for it to do such a thing.

"Fuck–! "

It swells inside you as he cums with a painful groan. The orgasm seems to just last and last, and you realize with horror and thrill that the guy hasn't had a wank in days. Work has been a bitch, then, and you get to pay for it – a punishment you suffer with glee.

He gives you his all, squeezing you between arms that feel like a too tight cage, crushing you with a chest that feels like a compression machine burying you under an iron weight. Hard thighs press against yours until you're spread open for him to be buried in to the hilt.

And you know it gives him hell that he finished before you: it's on par with a failed mission, you suppose. Your mission, however, was a success. The body around and over you is coiled tight, but the tension gradually leaves. Obviously it makes him feel even more heavy.

He finally goes slack against you, just like you wished, and you almost squeal while getting imprisoned by a heap of heaving muscles. He's catching both breath and the remains of his pride as he lies there on top of you. The cock inside gives an occasional pulse, but you're forever hungry.

This man should be illegal…

You know you won't be left stranded for long, and seeing him so utterly done gives you enough satisfaction for now. You can wait for him to finish you in other ways.

"You're fucking dangerous," he huffs in your ear while trying not to crush you completely with his weight. He's gathering his strength in the solace of your neck, and you smile like you're on drugs.

"Does that mean you like me..?"

"What do you think," he snorts humorlessly on your skin, but you know he's more than happy. "'Welcome home'... Bloody hell, woman."

"I'm glad you're here," you laugh and place a hand on that broad back to caress him gently.

"Yeah. You can keep that toy."

"Perhaps I'll finish myself with it," you chirp to annoy him a bit more. Another triumph: you have to suppress a laugh upon hearing him groan.

"Now give me a bloody minute…"

Poor man. The thought that you feel just too fucking good to him, so good that it makes him lose control, gives you such a high that it's just sinful. The thought that a stoic goliath like him is rendered weak on top of a small, harmless woman is more intoxicating than a wine glass filled to the brim.

You pet the back of his neck and know he's probably tired from work and wants to sleep. You wouldn't object to falling asleep too while he's holding you.

"How about we give it another try after a nap?"

Your offer makes him rumble softly, contently; the man's ready to drop but also thoroughly enamored. Your heart skips a beat from pure happiness.

"Mm. You always have the best ideas."

[electra-buttercup]

Tasteless Engine (2)

Suddenly, the puppet’s eyes flutter open and the doll stares at you.

Flabbergasted, you jump back and stop touching them. The porcelain puppet slowly, weakly sits up with numb arms. All you can do is stare at the living doll with wide eyes, while the mass elevates itself until it stands up before you.

“Who are you…?” the porcelain puppet asks with a low, groggy voice. Definitely a boy.

“I could return you the question! My name is […] and I’m a toy maker.” You reply.

“Good. I have been looking for you.” Says the puppet casually, as if he was not crying on your floor a few minutes ago. He starts walking in your bungalow with his chin raised high, as if he was the owner of this land. His torn clothes barely cover himself, and his joints and articulations creak with every move he makes and you decide to go after him.

“Wait! So, you know me, but what’s your name and how are you… Living?! Aren’t you a puppet?” You ask while walking behind him, in pure confusion.

“That’s none of your business. As for my name, I don’t have one.” Replies the doll boy. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing a book with his hand.

“Just a theater piece. It’s La Comedia Del Arte. You never heard of it?” You reply, taking the book and handing it to him. The nameless puppet takes the book and examinate it carefully.

“Well, just call me Scaramouche then.” He says after reading a few pages.

“Scara?

-Scaramouche” He objects, refusing the nickname. He puts back the book on the self.

“This bungalow is pathetic, but it is not the reason of my visit. I saw the sign near your house saying that you are a toy maker. It kills me to say it but I need your help.” After saying that, Scaramouche takes off the clothe that was hiding his bust. At the place where should be his heart if he was human is a huge hole, the porcelain is fissured and painting is damaged all around the hole and even slightly melted. You stare at it in awe for a few minutes. Never, in your life, you saw a human-puppet with a hole in the chest. Look then up at him in his eyes, which are a bit damaged too.

“… What happened to you?” You ask, shocked.

“None of your business too.” Answers the puppet with a dark face.

Promptly, you put him on your table and observes his features with a lot of caution.

“I never saw a doll this damaged. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fix all of that.

-What about my heart?

-You had a heart?

-Yes. But in an access of rage, I pulled it out of my chest, that’s how the hole… You know…”

You look at him, you can’t help but feel bad for him. Sure, he is not human at all, but it is almost like it, is it not? And mostly, he had a heart. You don’t know how it is possible, but you stopped asking yourself question when a living puppet started to cry before you.

“Sadly, I can do nothing for a heart-broken puppet, asides from repairing the damage, I can’t give you a heart.” You tell him softly, looking at him in the eyes.

“Then I’ll find someone who can.

-No one can. Scaramouche, a heart isn’t a clock! It is not mechanical, you can not buy it, or repair it with a hammer, nails and tools. I can’t do anything for this heart, nor no one can.

-You’re worthless! I should have known it when I crossed your door! I’m leaving, now.” The enraged doll jumps off the table and heads toward the living room.

“If you go outside, you’ll be even more broken!” You protest. “I can fix you! And maybe your heart will grow back! I bet you’re not that stupid…”

After you said that, Scaramouche looks down, lost in thought. Leaving the bungalow would be counterproductive, and after all, maybe those promises you tell him are true. In this case, it is not in his interest to leave. He turns to you.

“Alright, you win, human.

-I have a name.

-Don’t get me started or it’s you who’ll end up broken.

-So you’re staying here?

-Unfortunately.” The puppet rolls his eyes.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about Yandere Kiyosumi Katou again. He’s so pathetic. For @ladythot

Yandere Baki Imagines:

Die For You

Yandere Kiyosumi Katou x GN Reader

A fighter who fell in love with his caretaker at the hospital since he’s never been touched by anyone else… he was such a loser.

A loser that couldn’t get you out of his head. One that trailed after you like a stray dog desperate for scraps. Katou wanted you more than anything in the world…

Katou tried to reel himself in, he really did! Yet he only fell deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. Your warmth was a feeling he had never experienced before and Katou was hooked.

It didn’t matter how often he’d touch himself when you once wrapped bandages on him. How he’d ghost his fingers over the various scars that lined his body or how he tried to find the body wash you used just to make it seem like you were still with him. It just wasn’t the same. Katou needed you.

So here he was tracking you down after your shift. You were as oblivious as a gazelle grazing in an open meadow. Except a hungry lion had its sights set on that defenseless gazelle… yet Katou was bothered by the way you were unaware of your surroundings. How did you not notice him? He was wearing green and purple for goodness sake!

How had you survived this long with no one to take care of you? Tch, this just wouldn’t do! Katou would have to take you under his wing! His living conditions may not have been the best, but he was willing to turn his life around if you decided to live with him.

And that’s when you turn around and made eye contact with him… Katou wasn’t expecting the big smile on your face or the kind words asking how he was. Didn’t you know he was dangerous? What he could do to you? And yet you always smiled at him… you never looked at him like he was a failure. Like he was a loser.

Which was why Katou was so fond of you. The reason he loved you so much, it drove him insane. He knows it’s wrong and that it isn’t normal to stalk the object of your affection, but he couldn’t help it. He had to make sure you’re safe at all times. The endless worry kept him up at night. What would happen if you were attacked? If you were assaulted? Katou couldn’t possibly live with himself.

Katou may not have been the strongest, but he was willing to put his life on the line for you. He would die for you. Not that he’d ever tell you, of course. Katou could never tell you the true magnitude of his feelings for you, but he knew you wouldn’t understand. That was okay. Katou was just fine with you having an inkling of affection for him, because that was enough to keep him grounded. The thought of you liking him back.

“Katou? Are you alright?” Katou snapped back to reality and gave you a smirk. His hands dug into the pockets of his green sweatpants.

“Ya, I was just thinking about how dangerous it is for a tiny thing like you to walk alone.” Katou then sauntered over to you and offered you his arm. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

You gave him a soft smile and accepted his offer. Your small hand wrapped around his muscular arm as you rested your head a bit on his shoulder. Katou had such a strong scent of leather, musk, and cheap cigarettes yet it was kind of comforting… but your thoughts began to race as he lead you along.

How did Katou know the direction of your house?

[reneeluv154]

Doctor Dawkins

Hi! I really hope you enjoy.

I will be making a part two to this Jack Dawkins imagine!

⚠️Tw: mentions of self harm and sharp objects. ⚠️

My mother, in a panicked state, rushed to the door as she heard three firm knocks. “Oh my, I am so glad to see you here so soon. Please come.” Her footsteps now accompanied by another came down the hall towards my room. In my room was where I sat, on my bed. I was scared, scared he was going to hurt me or take me somewhere where he would perform outrageous surgeries and tests.

The door swung open and my mom marched towards me, snatching my arms and lifting my sleeves to reveal the fairly fresh cuts, next she threw the blanket which covered my legs, revealing the bruises. I kept my head down, not wanting to see the look of disgust on their faces. This made me weak and off-putting, ugly and unladylike. The doctor set down a brown leather bag and gently sat next to me.

“May I take a look? I promise I’ll be gentle.” His tone was just as calm as his mannerisms. I held out my arms letting him examine both.

“A few of these cuts need some stitches.”

My heart sank as he dug through the small leather bag, bringing out a needle and some cotton string. “Will it hurt?” I choked.

“Please.” My mother scoffed. “You’ve done such horrid things and you're worried about a needle and some string? Pathetic.” she hurried off to what I assumed was the kitchen to make some tea. Leaving both me and the doctor alone.

“It will hurt but luckily for you these cuts are small, you'll only need 4 or 5 stitches for each” I nodded watching him thread the string through the needle.

How does it work? I wondered in my head before saying it aloud.

“How does it work?” I looked at him.

This was the first time I looked at him, his blonde fluff of hair fell over his dark brown eyes. What caught my attention the most was he had no trace of disgust or malice in his eyes, but rather sympathy and… what I believed was kindness.

‘Well, I’ll show ya, if ya think you're tough enough?” He cocked an eyebrow, making me smile.

“You have a pretty smile.” He softly mentioned while positioning his needle right where it needed to be.

“Thank you”

“Alright, first I’m gonna very gently take the needle from one side to the other, like so.” my whole body tensed as I felt the sharp needle glide through the thick layer of skin.

“Shhh, it’s okay, try to relax your arm. After I get the needle through both sides I’m gonna take the string and tie a surgeon's knot, just like this.” I watched as he wrapped the string twice around what looked like pliers but for surgeons rather than builders or mechanics.

“Now I’m gonna make two more simple knots and cut the string.” He gave me a small smile once finished with the first stitch. I had more of a defeated look than he did.

“This is gonna take forever.”

He chuckled, “Well, why don’t we get to know each other, I’m Doctor Jack Dawkins.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” I decided not to watch this time, letting my eyes wander around my room.

“Beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” I blushed.

His concentration during our conversation was for some reason alluring, He gave off a sense of comfort no man ever had.

“All done, may I take a look at your bruises?”

I hesitated.

“I could take you down to the hospital if you would prefer a nurse, I or the nurse will have to do a full body examination.”

My eyes widened. “I would like to see a nurse.”

He nodded, packing up his tools. “You can get changed while I talk to your mother.”

Part two is out now!🤍🤍

[idontplaytrack]

Omg you should definitely do a part 2 for talk is cheap!!! Ughhhh you are FEEDING us! I love your fics <333

Your Favourite

dom! Janis ‘Imi’ike x sub! fem reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut— strap use, fingering, pet names(reader receiving)

Part 2 for ‘Talk Is Cheap’

(Pictures used are from grumpy magazine & Pinterest)

"How's your back?"

"That alone will make me cry if I keep thinking about it."

"Poor thing." She sulks, burying her face into your breasts.

"That feels nice, though."

"What feels nice?" She asks teasingly.

"Your hands pressing on my lower back." You stated.

"Okay." She replies, "Go on your hands and knees later. That'll take the pressure off your back, I hope." Her hands started roaming, one of which has found its way down to your ass and gave it a squeeze. Your breathing gets laboured, alerting her that you were just about ready. She continues groping your ass, forcing you to get riled up- maybe a little too soon.

Janis starts to slide her hand to your front, sliding down your underwear along the way.

Janis smirks, "You definitely do not need any lube." Her hand comes up, fingers spreading apart, your slick glistening under the dim lights.

You gulped, "Fuck, let's do it."

~~~~~

“Okay, baby.” Janis caresses your ass, “Hands and knees, come on.”

“How do you want—”

“However feels comfortable to you, I’ll work with whatever.” Janis says with a smirk. You had your face in the mattress and your ass raised in the air. You then felt the warmth of her palm against your sore lower back. You seethed. She retracts her hand abruptly, taking a peek at your face, “Okay, I won’t do that anymore.”

“No!” You whisper-yelled, “That feels nice.”

“Alright, I’ll give you more of that afterwards.” Janis chortled, placing her palm back there for a few moments before it glides lower, cupping your ass cheek. You feel her breath fanning against your bare skin, then she says, “Legs apart a little bit more, baby.” So you moved a little, somehow unsure of what she wanted until you feel a dip in the mattress beneath you— she’s laid down, her face below your cunt and her hands groping your ass. You naturally lowered yourself just enough so her mouth could reach you with ease. She pulls you closer to her too at the same time.

“I’ll work you up to it, alright? Just relax, sweetheart.” Her words…they sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and you hummed, right when her lips founds its way to the hood of your clit, gently wrapping around the bundle of nerves. Janis stays stagnant until you whined, then she circles her tongue around it just ever so gently, eliciting a short gasp from you.

Your eyes eventually shut, making the other sensations feel more intense with the absence of your sight. Janis was being so gentle with you, it just made you melt. After circling the nub for a few minutes, you both felt your arousal growing and begin drip down your upper thigh. Without saying a thing, she begins to suck at the sensitive area, alternating between that, circling it and lapping her tongue up and down your folds. You went weak in the knees after her persistent gestures, she laughs while holding you up by either ass cheeks. A meek whine slips away from your lips, motivating Janis to pick up her pace. Each movement of her mouth makes you whine and whimper, much to her satisfaction. “Moan for me, princess.” Janis’ breath fanned against your heat, a strangled noise erupts from your throat, “Moan for me, you can do it.” You licked your lips, pursing them together but not before you let her hear yet another pathetic whine. Your knees gave way again, feeling the pleasure abruptly shoot up. “Mm, fuck~” You moaned, voice muffled by your face in the covers. You just knew she was grinning at the sound, you just knew it, “Fuck, oh— my fuck—” Your breath came out ragged, now an absolute whining mess with her ministrations. Janis breaks away, scooting downwards so she could get up.

You objected, vocally which gave her a very nice surprise. It felt like torture while waiting for her to return to you. You hear her putting on the harness in the meantime, and you clenched around absolutely nothing. You figured out she was watching it happen when you heard her laughing. “Aw.” She coos, hand roaming your ass and giving it a squeeze next while trying to position herself. You feel her leave you again, so you were incredibly. “Babe— I need you.” You admitted, painfully, words coming out strained.

“I know, I know.” She hums, you heard her grab a pillow from in front of you then you felt it against your skin, “Wanna get up a little bit, baby? I just want to put this down for you so you’re more comfortable.”

————

You lazily lifted your top half up just enough for her to squeeze the pillow through the space before you practically fell back down onto it. “Good girl.” Janis said smugly, massaging your butt in one hand while her other teases you with the strap. “Ah—” You whined, swallowing thickly, “Mm, fuck.”

“Yeah, keep going, baby. Just like that.” Janis urged, the tip of the shaft going up and down the length of your apex, “You love this, don’t you? Me fucking you with my strap is your favourite way to do it?” Then, it presses it against your swollen clit that was begging desperately for attention and relief. A tiny cry escapes your mouth, your eyes still close while you took in a deep breath. “Ready, baby?” She asks softly, you instantly nodded your head, mumbling incoherently. You feel the tip up against your entrance again, then it enters you bit by bit. You gasp, forehead resting against your hands that were clasped together. “Oh, fuck~” You reciprocated Janis’ move with a high-pitched moan when you felt it poke at your sensitive spot inside. Slowly, it moves in and out of you, hitting your g-spot every time without fail. She grabs onto your hips as she does so, pulling you in and pushing you away just enough. “Baby~ I wanna hear you.” She chuckles huskily, her fingertips traced your bottom gently, making you feel ticklish and squirm. Before you could even think of anything to respond with, she pulls out the furthest she has so far and rammed into you forcefully, causing a particularly loud noise to spew out of your mouth. “Oh, my God.” You muttered, shakily, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” “What, baby? What?” She asks sweetly, still moving and keeping at her pace. You whimpered feebly in reply to her question, unable to form any more proper words or sentences as your mind drifted further and further away into the abyss.

With each time she basically pounded into you, you gave her a whimper, whine and moan— in that order. That was how long she’s dragging it out for, stimulating you until you couldn’t take anymore. You weren’t even saying her name anymore, nothing was on mind other than pleasure, now almost too much of it. You were reaching your high soon. Despite your current position, the pain in your back started to bother you again while the coil in your core begins to tighten at a speed that was so quick, it made you burst into tears. “Don’t cry, angel.” Janis soothed, “Are you alright?”

Despite her calm, sweet tone of voice, her actions made it terribly difficult to properly hear her out. You were feeling the overwhelming urge to get fucked till you couldn’t take it anymore and was coming so easily, and it seems you were headed in just the right direction. “Just a bit more, okay, baby? Can you take it for me?” She asks quietly. “Mmm.” You moaned, nodding your head eagerly, “Fuck fuck fuck—”

“Not yet, angel.” She slows down right on time, watching you on the verge of your release, all reddened and needy, clenching around the silicone while soaking the sheets beneath you— and your thighs, too while you were at it. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes again as she carries on pushing into you unforgivingly Janis was drilling you into the mattress by the end of it, and you fall flat on your stomach as a result. Noises came from you without an end, right until she told you that you could come. Well, even then, you were still making a whole lot of noise for her hearing pleasure. “Such a good girl, princess. Holding it together for so long for me.” She praised, slowly turning you onto your back. Janis was finally met with your face: blissed out, eyes barely open as you tried to catch your breath. Janis made sure the pillow was right beneath your lower back to cushion it. Seeing that you were still shaking, Janis quickly removed the harness from her body and crawled into bed beside you.

“Okay?” She asks, brushing the hair out of your face.

“Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing harshly as your breathing momentarily seemed rushed.

“Hey. Hey, you’re alright. Breathe, baby.” She coaxed, holding you in her arms as she speaks.

“That was pretty amazing.” You laugh, in disbelief that you held out for as long as you did.

“You were fucking amazing.” She grins, kissing the tip of your nose, her hands were now pressing against your lower back just like they were earlier, soothing the ache. You only smiled back, curling closer to her warm body. “I’m impressed.” Janis continues, chuckling over her words. Humming in response you said, “You are?”

“Oh, boy. You are sleepy, aren’t you, baby?” She teases, placing a kiss at the top of your head. You nodded, comfortably resting your face against her chest. “So I take that as a no to a warm bath, then?”

“‘m sleepy.” You mumbled, “But it hurts.”

“I’ll go grab you a heating pad?” She asks, worried.

“Mm…no.” You slurred, “Stay with me.”

“I’ll just be a minute.” Janis sighs softly. Your response was to snuggle even closer, right now you were practically squishing your face into her chest. She laughs, “Okay, then. Getting comfy there, baby?”

You smiled sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Alright, close your eyes. Good night, angel. I’ll be right here.”

————

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

[sixxteenbullets]

BODY ELECTRIC

DALLAS WINSTON X FEM!CURTIS!READER

SUMMARY: Getting over a toxic ex lover wasn't easy to do, so when y/n turns to parties and drinks to cope with her past, she gets into a situation she can't quite handle. Lucky for her, her brother's best friend has a protective streak when it comes to her.

WARNINGS: Mentions of a toxic past, being drugged, alcohol/various substance use, forced kissing, violence.

The music that used to be a gift on the ears began to fade, the words all coming together to be some incoherent mumbles. Y/n blinked once, twice, and the two shots she had moments earlier felt like they turned into ten. Her grip tightened on the can in her hand, but it seemed futile as the drink fell to the ground anyway. This confused her, and as she brought her hand close to her face to inspect, it seemed to blur, the small scars and texture disappearing. Was she dreaming?

That couldn't be it. The pounding in her head was way too real. As was the fatigue which took over her. "Are you alright?" The voice was unfamiliar, masculine, and somehow unpleasant.

When her gaze found his face, she still did not recognize him. He was older than her, maybe mid twenties, and wasn't exactly hard to look at. His face was fairly defined, his gaze hard and cold, and his eyes were a shocking, deep blue. "Yeah."

His lip tilted up, almost in a smile before he caught himself. "You don't look it, let me get you out of here." The unpleasantness she heard in his voice must have been the alcohol slurring his words because he absolutely reeked of it.

"No," She said firmly, ignoring the tempting offer of leaving the party. "No, I'm fine."

"let's go." Ignoring her protests, his large hand grabbed her hand and began to pull her out of the house. "Let's see what everyone fusses over."

"Fuck off." It was pathetic, her words. Whatever was in her system made it hard to talk.

Why was no one helping her, she thought. What was even happening?

She was too weak to protest as he pushed her against the brick wall of the house, its unusual dampness saturating the back of her shirt. Too weak to push him off as he planted his hands on her hips and leaned his face towards hers.

Y/n was never much of a believer in God. She never understood it. Though, in that moment, she prayed to whatever and whoever she could think of to get this piece of shit off of her. The taste of hard liquor infiltrated her mouth as he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tongue begging for entrance.

When he pulled away to breathe, she turned her head back and yelled, "Dallas," she continued to yell the name like it was her only prayer. "Dal!"

"That punk doesn't know what to do with a woman like you, Curtis." He took advantage of the angle of her head and began lowering his face to her neck.

What happened next made her begin to believe that maybe there was a god. Something greater than her and all she knew, because her pleas were answered.

The man was ripped away from her and thrown on the ground, a man quickly jumping on top of him. From what she could make out of the blurs, he was getting his ass beat. A few feet away, the door opened again and two more people walked out. They headed straight for the fight and pulled the attacker off, pointed to Y/n and took over the beating.

Fear coursed through her as she realised that perhaps they didn't want to help her, but take the previous man's place. As he approached, all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and shove herself back against the wall and shout for the man she wished for moments earlier. Where she expected to feel an invading touch, there was nothing. She was being picked up.

With no other way to object to this, she kept calling for her savior.

"Yeah, I'm here, Doll." The familiar voice of Dallas Winston rang through her ears like music.

"Can't go home," She leaned her head against his chest, trying her best to remain conscious. "Not like this."

"I know."

They were at Bucks minutes later, a party of its own booming on the inside. As they passed through the door, he had set her up right and looped an arm around her waist as one of hers went around his shoulders. It was easier to weave through the crowd this way, even as she fully relied on him to stay standing.

She never expected to be so happy to see his dirty little room. Being laid down on his creaky bed and helped to change into a large shirt to replace the one she had gotten dirty. It suddenly seemed like a safe haven.

Her laying down only lasted a few seconds, before she had to stumble run to the bathroom and empty her stomach. With every heave, dry or not, she felt her head get lighter. Whatever she has taken was leaving her system easily and she couldn't be more thankful. Halfway through her time in the bathroom, Dallas walked in and sat on the edge of the tub next to her. He lazily took over holding her hair back out of her face.

"That was dumb," He shook his head, she turned hers away from him and laid her face down on her arm, which rested against the toilet seat. "You know what could've happened if I wasn't there? If the Curly Sheperd didn't tell me that you were being dragged around by some old greaser?"

She said nothing. She knew exactly what would've happened, but she didn't want to hear it.

"God, that was dumb." The sound of his fingers gripping the porcelain of the tub made her cringe. Why was he so mad? "You co-"

"I know!" She tried to yell, but she was too drained to do so. "I get lectured by Darry every day, I don't need to hear you complain about having to help me."

That made him pause. He wasn't upset about having to save her, but about what could have happened to her. He didn't know what to say. Emotions made him insanely uncomfortable but there was no good way out of this situation.

He remained quiet even as she used a towel to wipe the spit from her lip and push herself away from the toilet. Only when she tried to stand did he move to keep her from falling. Silence, as he helped her to his bed.

Dallas wasn't sure where he was going to sleep. The last thing he wanted to do was fall asleep next to the drunk sister of his best friends, but the floor didn't call him either. Maybe he would crash at the Sheperd's, or go home with some girl as an excuse to get a bed. This plan appealed to him until he was at his door and Y/n called for him to stay.

A refusal was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be used, until he heard her say please. When he turned to look at her, she was laying on the very edge of the bed, half falling off, with plenty of room behind her. So, without a word, he climbed in behind her and laid on his back, doing his best to keep the space between them.

They remained in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." All tiredness left her body and he asked a question that has been burning a hole through him for a while now. "What's with all the partyin' now? Thought you hated 'em."

"They keep my mind busy. I don't like thinking anymore. Everything seems to remind me of Jason."

The mention of her ex boyfriend -- though 'fling' would be more accurate -- made him tense. Something bad, real bad, had happened between them, but no one knew. He didn't want to ask, but he was incredibly intrigued when she began telling the story anyway.

"He got with Sylvia just after he asked me to be his girl, threatened to kill me if I left, but his friends cooked him down, told me to get lost. Being with a crowd means lots of witnesses."

"I'll kill him." It wasn't a threat, nor an empty expression of anger, but a simple statement. A promise. He would kill him. She knew that.

"I know," She swallowed the thickness in her throat. "That's why I didn't tell anyone. They would go crazy and I don't want that, I just want some calm. I'm tired of bein' out every night."

This confession of hers made him feel a full range of emotions, mostly ranging from anger to pity to sadness and back to anger. How dare someone go after the girl he has had his eye on for so long. And then make her scared? He knew she wanted Jason to be killed, she just didn't want to have to deal with the aftermath. Usually he would agree, but this offence was far too serious to be let go. And he knew exactly how he would do it, too.

"Thank you, Dallas." She felt safe for the first time in a while. And when she woke up, Dallas Winston was gone. Her sadness was short lived, as when she was walking home, she overheard a group of girls fawning over the missing case of Jason Pinkman.

Dallas Winston really was her savior.

___

This could have been executed better, but whatever.

Give me requests y'all. Like go crazy with the details, PLEASE. Let me hear exactly what you want.

[pixyys]

— contradictory.

al haitham x traveler! reader

"you don't have question privileges!"

"then, perhaps we can discuss further terms to rectify that."

notes/ warnings. possibly ooc al haitham; kinda tsundere reader; denial; i haven't finished the main quest i'm just looking for excuses to write this man ;-;

art by @shigdesu (twt)

You're a traveler. The Traveler. You've traveled prairies and mountains, deserts and underground caves. Those lands have distinctive cultures, unique landscapes, and a variety of individuals. Some of them are infuriating and indifferent, some are pleasant and compassionate.

Sumeru is no exception. It's just your luck that the person you stumbled upon terribly fits the former category, and he is ridiculously attractive.

You weren’t quite certain when it all began. Your arrival to Sumeru has been nothing but a strenuous navigation through a series of unprecedented misadventures. Is it exactly because of that? Some helping hands during a flit of your vulnerable moments? No. that’s not it. Tighnari has been nothing but pleasant. He was the one who quite literally saved your life from some crazy.. what was it? Spirit Borneol incense-thing. Yet, every time you look at that bicolored eyes, what you see are the eyes of a close, trusted friend.

“How about Dunyarzad?” your eye shifts to the noble currently sitting in front of you, blissfully enjoying a serving of baklava at your usual seats in Cafe Puspa. 

"..Yeah, no.” 

Dunyarzad did help you out when you were stumped with no idea to meet the Dendro Archon. But that gaze- you don’t think you possess the same amount of fondness and admiration in Dehya's gaze as she watches her charge. The same charge whom she now dutifully accompanies even on a such casual excursion.

Nibbling your already cold samosa, your mind wanders, to your past adventures, to Sumeru, to Port Ormos, and to the object that caused you such distress: The no-nonsense, renowned Grand Scribe of Sumeru’s Akademiya. Al Haitham is a conundrum for you. He, not unlike your other good acquaintances, has his own share of heroic exploits- swooping in to save you from some lowly scam scheme that could have cost you a half million of mora. 

But is that enough reason for your attachment? No, it doesn’t seem right. The moment he sends you for Dori, it suddenly feels like it’s Mondstadt, Liyue, and Inazuma all over again. You’re being used. You hate being used, and you hate the fact you didn’t try to retaliate. Above all, you detest that Al Haitham might be the very reason you didn't try to refuse.

“Me?” You take a bite of your savory treat. “Possibly being so shallow that I'm already attracted because of his outer appearances?!”

The chicken fillings of your samosa now taste unbearably bitter.

Objectively speaking, he’s easy on the eyes, but...

“No, I remember wanting to punch him in the face the moment he technically sent me to Dori for his errands…”

“..Traveler? Are you alright?”

“!- Yes?”

“You’re not,'' Dehya frowns. “You’ve been out of it the whole evening ya know? You can talk about it if you want. As long as it’s not about your violent urges.”

“I... I don’t have violent urges,” You crease your eyebrows. “..probably.”

At this, Dunyarzad lets out a mirthful laugh. “Could this be about love problems?”

“Love?”

“As Dehya said, you’ve been spacing out this evening,” she shrugs, “and you mentioned something about ‘him’ just now.”

Which part of punching someone’s face signals love??

“Well..” you eventually cave in, playing with the edge of your plate. “I’m having these conflicted feelings..”

If Dunyarzad wasn’t over the moon, she was on cloud nine. You were glad Nilou wasn’t there to also squeal and feast on your evidently love-sick state.

The more you talk about this ‘him’ person, the more you become awfully aware that your conundrum is self-inflicted. The more you seek consolation from the flame-maned bodyguard and her charge, the more you really sound like some pathetic, lovelorn teenager.

As much as you hate it, Dunyarzad was right. Avoiding the problem will only make your hair paler. And Dehya was wise. You will be leaving Sumeru soon, and regret won’t do you well for your journey. 

So here you are, drinking in the cold breeze, perched on the docks of Port Ormos. Dunyarzad and Dehya have taken it upon themself to whisk Paimon away for a "Special Sumerunian culinary trip," as Dunyarzad claimed. But why exactly are you at the southward Port Ormos? When you're about to depart for Fontaine, which is located on the far north of Sumeru's border?

"Right." The bundled sword sitting on your lap feels somewhat heavier. "I'm here to finish a business right where it first started." You wanted to at least meet 'him' one last time, lest you carry the burden of regret through your future adventures.

As if Celestia hears your thoughts, the devil himself arrives. With all his confidence and efficiency, he strides over your little corner with swift steps.

You still wonder how he, a scholar, is more fit than you, an adventurer. And how he actually accepts your impromptu invitation to the far south of Sumeru's Port Ormos. But there's really no more time to dwell on the little things.

"Good, you're here. Let's cut to the chase." you hop from the wooden crate you took as a makeshift seat, "I want you to have this."

Al Haitham doesn't say anything other than keeping a good distance as you unfurl the bundle. 

"Geez, relax," you sigh, "I'm not about to engage you in a swordfight. I wanted to gift you with a sword."

True to your words, the modest bundle revealed a finely crafted sword. Its firm handle and poignant blade shine a brilliant emerald as if everything is meticulously carved from the finest jade of The Chasm. 

Well, it's not that inaccurate. This blade- The Primordial Jade Cutter (or at least you hope is the real one) is said to be carved by Rex Lapis himself. Judging from the amount of effort and mora you sacrificed, this better be made from pure jade.

Maybe you should find the occasion to ask Zhongli some other time.

"What is this?" Al Haitham finally deigns a comment.

"A sword."

"..My mistake. I'm going to rephrase my question. Why are you giving me this?"

Exactly. Why are you giving him this? "Because the glow of this blade reminds me of your eyes, beautiful and sharp all the same." Ha! As if!

"..Take it as a repayment for the mora you gave me to buy those canned knowledge, and for teaching me how to use them, and for the other favors I received."

"You owe me nothing, we pursued the same interest," the scribe deadpans, "and surely, this blade costs more than a half million of mora."

Haha yeah, it might cost a whole head and some limbs, actually.

"Fine." your shoulders sag, "Take it as a parting gift, then."

Al Haitham doesn't say a thing. His focused, dissecting gaze is still trained on you. Only after a while did he solemnly close his eyes and cross his arms.

(You really hate how those biceps are further defined by that very action).

"You are going to leave Sumeru soon, and you're giving out parting gifts as a final tangible reminder of yourself for everyone."

You frown. "Does it look like I have enough mora to buy everyone a fancy sword?" 

At that moment, there is a subtle change in Al Haitham's expression. Those ever-poignant eyes seem to soften, just a bit. You, on the other hand, couldn't help but lament how much of a fool you are. The Scribe might be... emotionally constipated. But his brain is still one of the best among the scholars of the Akademiya.

"Wait, I mean-"

"You specifically wish for me to remember you while you're away on your journey."

You scrunch up your face. It's not even a question.

"I hate how I can't pinpoint the exact reason why I like you," you mutter.

"I see. you're attracted to me."

"I'm not!" you straighten your voice. "I hardly find you likable."

"You're contradicting yourself. Is there a reason for that?"

At this point, you can further see the depths of his verdant eyes. The longer you fight back, the more likely you seem to drown in its depth. Again, you weren't quite certain where it all began. Your faces are now only a hair's breadth and your neck cranes to meet his gaze.

(You try to ignore the way his warm breath subtly caresses your cheek).

"-You don't have question privileges!" with a yelp, you retreat backward, shying away from whatever you both are engaging in. It's strange. Al Haitham is not an ounce scarier than the Raiden Shogun, nor the Shouki no Kami. But your hands are clammier, and your heart beats faster in the presence of this infuriating man.

Al Haitham, unfazed, merely hums. "Then, perhaps next time, we can discuss further terms to rectify that."

W-what is that even supposed to mean?!

When you get back your bearings, you realize that your hands are empty, and the bundle is now safely tucked in Alhaitham's arms.

"Thank you, Traveler. I will treasure this," he nods, the most sincere, human gesture you've ever seen coming from the Grand Scribe.

"Though, had I known you prepared such an extravagant memento, I would have prepared something equally valuable."

At that moment, you follow Alhaitham's eyes, and your hand falls on a gold-plated, emerald flower tucked behind your ear.

How curious.

It is the Labyrinth Wayfarer. How the stoic scribe managed to procure such an artifact, or how he tucked it behind your ears without you realizing, will be another conundrum you have to solve.

"I wish you a safe journey," he adds, "Until then, I will wait for your return and make sure to repay your generosity."

"And Traveler," Al Haitham pauses, glancing at your star-struck state. "Please consider my offer of discussing further terms. I would very much like to discover the reason for your.. contradictions. You are always an interesting subject to study."

endnotes. i'm down atrocious🤡

[electronickingdomfox]

"Mindshadow" review

One of these days, Spock will do the logical thing and get an all-risk insurance for his brain...

Novel from 1986, by J. M. Dillard. Okay, this story is quite messy, as it tries to put together a pastiche of plot threads and themes that may or may not be that cohesive. It borrows heavily from TOS episodes, from The Enterprise Incident to Journey to Babel (even a bit from Wolf in the Fold). There are definitely a few plot holes and some silliness. The espionage/murder plot is sometimes too convoluted to follow. Also, some names look like typos: Transporter technician "Lyle"? (I'm pretty sure that was supposed to be Kyle), the penal colony of "Ebla Two"? (should have been Elba Two), "Chekhov"????... In terms of absurdity, it's similar to that other novel, "Black Fire" (and yes, there's even a pirate Spock in here too). But just as it happened with that book... I actually liked this one as well. It's a glorious mess, alright.

The most serious (and somber) thread is that of Spock receiving brain damage, and his struggles to recover his memories and Vulcan mental disciplines. The abuse he suffers from medical malpractice, his frustration with his impaired learning, his loving (and sometimes painful) relationship with his family, or Uhura's tender attempts to help him through music... Those elements have probably the greatest emotional impact in the novel, and are actually pretty good in themselves. This is also, at core, a "triumvirate" novel, with strong character drama between Kirk, Spock and McCoy, and a focus on their closeness.

On the other hand, there's another, more ridiculous drama: both Kirk and McCoy fall in love with the same Mary Sue, and hilarity tragedy ensues. For his part, Kirk seems pretty callous in his seduction of this woman, as he doesn't even like her all that much; at times, it almost looks as if he just wanted to piss McCoy off (isn't there really ANY other woman available for him!?). While McCoy, who truly loves the Mary Sue, ends up looking incredibly pitiful, desperate and, well, downright pathetic. However, out-of-character as it is, I ended up getting some guilty pleasure from all of it, as in "Let's see Kirk's next shitty move and what happens next..." Anyway, even though the woman likes the two of them, she ends up realizing they're both just too gay for Spock, to the surprise of nobody.

Spoilers under the cut:

The planet Aritani has suffered recent raids from cloaked vessels, so Kirk is negotiating with the natives to offer Federation help against the attacks, despite the natives’ reticence towards technology. They erect a shield around the planet to prevent the fighter ships entering the atmosphere, or trap below it those that may be cloaked right now. Then Spock goes alone to investigate the nearby mountains, since he found valuable minerals that could be the objective of the raiders. However, when Spock is late to report, Kirk goes after him… And finds out he has fallen off a cliff and has gravely injured his head. McCoy’s assessment is that Spock has suffered extensive damage to the left hemisphere, so his logic, language and memory will be impaired, and the doctor has many doubts about his eventual recovery; they’d need a neuropsychologist specialized on Vulcans.

Meanwhile, Kirk authorizes shore leave on the surface of Aritani, as several hours have passed without sighting any fighter (the reasoning being that, by now, they’d have run out of fuel to keep their cloaks up). Well, if you ask me, I don’t think it’s the most appropiate time and place for shore leave; and sure enough, a little while later a group of enemy vessels appears out of nowhere and starts attacking the crew on leave. Kirk and Scott can’t understand how that’s possible, and only see two options: either the fighters have an improved cloaking device that allows them to stay hidden for longer, or they somehow managed to penetrate the shields. Actually, there’s a third option, which they never even consider: they’ve been beaming people down to the planet for shore leave! That means they’ve been lowering the shields ALL THE TIME!! Duh… Kirk is having the worst day of his life, and on top of that, the Aritanians refuse further help from Starfleet, after their failure to protect them. Kirk’s orders, however, are to stay in the vicinity.

In sickbay, Uhura comes to visit an injured friend and starts singing for him. Then, upon hearing the music, Spock finally shows some reaction, and is capable of calling her name and asking for songs, as his right hemisphere (supposedly associated with emotions and art) is intact. During the following days, Spock will make some progress thanks to Uhura’s company. Apart from that, a new neuropsychologist is assigned to the Enterprise to study Spock’s case: Dr. Mary Sue Emma Saenz. Five minutes later, both McCoy and Kirk fall head over heels for her (to the point that McCoy is jealous even when Kirk says “Hello” to her). Emma also shows an unusual physical strength when she beats Kirk in their combat trainings. Nonetheless, it turns out that Emma… is actually Dr. Evil!Mary Sue!! She forces a mind-meld with Spock while alone with him, and extracts some important information about what he saw in Aritani, before erasing his memory of the meld. Her diagnostic is that Spock will probably recover in the areas of language and amnesia. But he has lost the Vulcan mind rules to shield himself away from others’ emotions, which he can now receive telepathically at all times. This could turn him into a violent individual, and Emma suggests restraints and an experimental medication: neodopazine.

In the bridge, Chekov manages to locate a decloaked enemy vessel, and they capture it with a tractor beam along one of the pirates. The raider turns out to be Romulan, but he denies the existence of any special device to penetrate shields, and Scotty doesn’t find anything of the like upon dismantling the fighter. Kirk was about to interrogate the prisoner, when they discover he’s been vaporized. Someone stunned the guard, then removed the brig force field and killed the prisoner, trying to make it look like a suicide. Security doesn’t have a clue about the killer (though the reader certainly can suspect who is it…). If this wasn’t enough, Spock is found in bed with his wrists sliced, as if he had also attempted suicide. Spock denies having done so, and says someone tried to murder him, but he doesn’t remember who. Emma is furious and gaslights Spock, saying he’s imagining murderers to cover up his suicide attempt. McCoy, however, takes Spock’s side and has a violent discussion with Emma, who ends up admitting she just wants to help Spock. Of course, the situation is very romantic, so they kiss. Later that night, Kirk is having trouble to sleep (no wonder) and goes to McCoy’s cabin for some pills (you see, he can’t go to sickbay, no; if he doesn’t sleep, then McCoy can’t either). Then Kirk finds out that McCoy is… sleeping with Emma!! Kirk doesn’t like that.

Since Spock believes his only option of recovering the mind rules is returning to Vulcan, he’s sent there in a shuttle with Scotty and Chapel. The shuttle has been sabotaged, and they crash land on Vulcan, though just with minor injuries. Spock is fine, so he leaves Scotty with Chapel at the hospital, and walks to his home town on foot. During the following weeks, he will stay at his parents’ home, trying to relearn the Vulcan disciplines with a Kolinahr master. His progress is really slow, though, and with mounting frustration, he realizes the neodopazine, far from helping, seems to be deteriorating his mind. Spock also meets T'Pala, a girl who's staying with his parents while she studies to enter the Vulcan Diplomatic Corps. T'Pala has many things in common with Spock: she's also half human, and has difficulty adapting to Vulcan life (even moreso than Spock, since she grew up in Earth). Sarek's disappointment with her is a mirror for Spock's own youth.

In the Enterprise, Scotty is put in the brig as the main suspect for the Romulan's murder (of course, he's later cleared of charges). For his part, Kirk hurts his shoulder while training with Emma. She takes him to her quarters to treat the injury, gives him an analgesic, and then they kiss. McCoy waits for Emma the whole evening, grows increasingly suspicious, and finally sees her leaving Kirk's cabin. After that, he mopes for a couple of days, until Kirk visits him with a bottle of moonshine ("here, I stole your girlfriend, but you can get drunk with this..."). Kirk, however, says he doesn't remember what he did with Emma. And Emma confirms that Kirk just passed out because of the analgesic; she's attracted to Kirk and kissed him, but nothing else happened. McCoy is happy with this (he doesn't ask for much, right?) and suddenly he's like "Hey, you slept with me a couple of times. Where's my wedding ring!? I'm a decent boy!". Emma says she'll leave soon, so no, no wedding...

After this, the Enterprise is tasked with bringing a bunch of ambassadors to Vulcan, to discuss the acceptance of Aritani into the Federation. This part is a bit dull and drags too much, in my opinion. During the journey, more suspicious incidents take place: one ambassador is killed, another is badly hurt, and an explosion leaves the Enterprise without warp drive. It seems someone doesn't want Aritani to join the Federation. Then, Kirk discovers that Emma has been making unauthorized transmissions, but she assures him she's been working for Starfleet Intelligence all this time. An Admiral confirms this point, so Kirk is satisfied.

Back in Vulcan, Spock has stopped taking the neodopazine, and experiments a clear improvement. Finally, he's able to recover the mind rules, and his memories from Aritani return to him in dreams. There was something really important he needed to tell Kirk, and now that the Enterprise is near Vulcan, Spock opens a transmission to the ship. But just before he can say anything, an assassin breaks into his house, injures Sarek, and tries to slice Spock's wrists again. He wants to make it look as Spock murdering Sarek, then killing himself. T'Pala intervenes at the last moment, vaporizing the assassin with a phaser. Then, she confesses that Romulans approached her to leak info about Spock, but she couldn't comply with their murderous plans. Having failed at entering the Diplomatic Corps, T'Pala doesn't have much more to live for, and she kills herself too.

Sarek and Spock recover in a hospital from the attack. And Kirk and McCoy band together against Emma to go visit him. Then Spock tells everything. What he saw at Aritani was some fighter vessels beaming up from below the earth, where the Romulans must have an underground base (that's why the atmospheric shield was useless). Knowing that they'd kill him, Spock decided to escape by jumping from the cliff, where he damaged his head. Much to McCoy's surprise, Spock also shows him a medical article written by Emma, explaining all the damaging effects of neodopazine in Vulcan brains. McCoy confronts Emma about the use of such dangerous drug on Spock, just when she was leaving for her next assignment. But she stuns him (and a bunch of other people) and escapes the ship, confirming their suspicions.

In the last part, the Enterprise returns to Aritani to destroy the Romulan base once and for all. Kirk gets again that surgery to look Romulan (as in The Enterprise Incident) and infiltrates the compound with Spock (who's dressed as a Romulan pirate, while McCoy wants to pierce his ear). However, they're captured by a Romulan officer, that Kirk recognizes as Emma. Her real name is Tanirius, and actually, she wasn't Evil!Mary Sue at all. She just carried out the Praetor's orders as a cover-up, all the while working for Starfleet and a group of Romulan rebels, to destroy the underground base. She gave Spock the neodopazine to avoid killing him, once she understood how important he was for McCoy and Kirk. This plot twist really took me by surprise, but that's in part because... well, it doesn't make much sense. You know, despite the novel trying to present Emma as eventually good, she's just not! Not only did she try to kill Spock SEVERAL times, but she was far more efficient at carrying out the Romulans' plans than what was strictly necessary!! (whatever, maybe she was just jealous of Spock). Emma helps them to deactivate the cloaking device of the base, and then stays behind to destroy it whole. Kirk and Spock beam up to the Enterprise in time, while an underground explosion shakes the planet. In the aftermath, Aritani accepts the Federation's help, now that they're free of Romulans. And Spock tries to console McCoy saying that some vessels fled the base in time, and Emma could be among the survivors. Kirk sees through his bullshit, though, and wonders if Spock is just lying because he also has affection for McCoy, much to Spock's indignation.

McSpirk Meter: 9/10*. The Kirk/Spock angle is more evident. When Spock is injured, Kirk just can't think about anything else. He goes constantly to sickbay to check his state, argues with McCoy, is irritable with everyone and everything... Kirk even tries to reach the catatonic Spock through a mind link, to no avail. And once he gets a replacement First Officer, Kirk is unreasonably hostile to him, just because he's not Spock. It's also said several times that Kirk is the person that knows Spock better in the entire world. Another remarkable scene happens when Spock is leaving for Vulcan. Spock can feel Jim's emotions and pain at his departure, and his repressed impulse to touch him, so Spock relents and takes his hand. As for McCoy, his care for Spock comes rather as medical concern, but Emma sees through him quite early. She says he's too emotionally involved with the patient to be of any help. And despite the fact they're in a relationship, it seems that all of McCoy and Emma's conversations revolve around Spock, which causes continous tensions between them. At one point, she states the facts clearly: "I have risked myself for your friend because you loved him". Effectively, the reason she gives for not killing Spock outright, is that McCoy and Kirk cared about him too much. The ending lines have Kirk reminding Spock of this fact, and wondering if Spock also returns McCoy's affections.

Apart from this, there's a certain tension between Kirk and McCoy. Before the whole problem with Emma begins, they're reminiscing their shore-leaves together, and McCoy is said to grin lasciviously at Jim. Also, when Emma tells Kirk that she and McCoy are having dinner together, McCoy starts blushing, and doesn't understand why such a simple statement embarrasses him so much. Later, Kirk comes to McCoy's cabin in the middle of the night, and finds him basically naked (wearing just a short tunic), which almost prompts a sarcastic whistle from him. He attempts to enter the cabin (you know, with naked Bones in there and all) and feels offended when the doctor doesn't let him come inside. At last, after they reconcile, McCoy comments that Kirk looks dashing in his Romulan pirate uniform. There's also something in Kirk's behavior about Emma, that almost seems like a disgruntled ex trying to ruin the doctor's new relationship. After all, Kirk doesn't even find Emma all that attractive at first.

[yeehawbvby]

Operation: Seraphina-chan Figure Recovery (Mammon x GN!Reader)

+ Slight Levi x GN!Reader, but it can be read as platonic too. I just want to include that because this is mostly Levi and MC's shenanigans.

Rating: Teen+

Summary: Levi needs help rescuing a special edition Seraphina-chan figurine from the Great Mammon's clutches, and you happily oblige. Hijinks ensue, and somehow, you wind up in Mammon's bed.

Author's note: *Spoilers for Nightbringer Lesson 5-14 (hard mode) ahead!*

I took most of the plot/script from that lesson and then just changed the ending, so please avoid this if you'd rather experience it for yourself first ^^ Enjoy x

Check it out on ao3!

Being the attendant to your beloved seven sinners, it wasn’t uncommon for you to receive late night calls for assistance. Sometimes, Mammon required a partner-in-crime for one of his typical money-making escapades; and others, Asmo would request your help with his skincare routine after a long night of partying. More often than not though, your midnight calls or texts wound up being Belphie, all but begging to use your thighs as a pillow so he could fall asleep more easily. It’s hard, after all, with all of Beel’s noisy sleep-eating.

The few times Levi needed you so late, it was because he was playing his favorite MMORPG, and wanted you to join in for the group-EXP bonuses he’d get out of it. That said, it was a shock to you when Levi sent you a text – all caps locked, to boot – practically demanding you to accompany him in a heist.

More fueled by intrigue than anything else, you rushed over to the House of Lamentation, quietly snuck inside and upstairs, and lightly rapped on the door to Levi’s room before being yanked inside.

“Ack!” you yelped, not having expected such force from the normally timid otaku. 

The moment he shut the door behind you, Levi put a hand on your shoulder. The expression on his face reminded you that he was a war guy up in the Celestial Realm. His mein was intense, brimming with determination, and maybe even rage.

“Alright, so we’re about to commence ‘Operation: Seraphina-chan Figure Recovery,’” he announced. “Our objective: find and rescue Seraphina-chan!”

“...Umm, what?”

Visibly frustrated by your confusion, Levi took his hand off you and brought it up to his face with the other. As he answered, “Ugh, come on! You ruined the moment,” both palms slid down, revealing a more fitting look of pure desperation. He continued, “Listen, and listen well!”

“Okay,” you sighed, crossing your arms and leaning back onto the door.

“My beloved Seraphina-chan has fallen into Mammon’s clutches.”

“Uh-huh.”

The demon continued, “Oh, and just in case you didn’t know,” before giving you a paraphrased explanation of Seraphina’s whole deal. You lost him for a moment, before snapping back to attention just as Levi got around to his point. “Mammon won her figure recently in a prize campaign after drawing a lucky ticket.”

“Sooo we’re stealing her?” you asked for confirmation.

“Yes!” Levi responded incredulously, as if it couldn’t be any more obvious. “It’s just awful. We’re talking about a special collector’s edition that’s supposed to be kept in an air-conditioned case, never meant to be opened.” 

Freaking nerd… but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You nodded along, jumping a little when he shouted, “But Mammon just tossed her on the floor! Like random garbage! It’s unbelievable! I know she would be happier in my care. Several thousand times happier.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Probably.”

‘Which is why I’m going to stand up and fight for her!”

“Hell yeah!” you encouraged him.

“So, tonight, I’m sneaking into Mammon’s room and rescuing Seraphina-chan!”

You responded as enthusiastically as you could in your sleep-deprived state. “O-okay!”

“And, like, you will help me with this, right? You are my caretaker after all!” 

Even if you wanted to reject him, you probably couldn’t. The third-born looked pathetically endearing. “Alright, sergeant. Lead the way.”

The two of you skulked down the hall to Mammon’s domain, and Levi let out a quiet “Ah-ha!” as he turned the doorknob to his older brother’s room. “The door isn’t locked! I knew he’d leave it open.”

You both peeked inside – Levi’s head at his own level, and yours poking out from underneath his arm. The two of you scanned the area, as Levi murmured, “Now, where’s Mammon…?”

As if on cue, a loud snore echoed from Mammon’s bed. Perfect. Your companion looked down to you as you looked up at him, and you offered each other a curt nod, signaling that it was time to go inside.

“Let’s find Seraphina-chan while he’s asleep.”

As you took a step forward, something crumpled beneath your foot. “Ew…” you mumbled. “This room is a pigsty.”

“Seriously, how can anyone be this messy?!” Looking back briefly, Levi warned you, “Watch your step. If you make too much noise, you’re liable to wake up even Mam– d’ahh!”

Seeing as Levi was about to fall over, you gripped his arm, pulling him closer to you for balance. It backfired, and you both fell, Levi caging you against the ground.

“Ugh, sorry. I tripped over… um...” You couldn’t see much, but the whites of his eyes became a little more visible. “Is it just me, or is your face awfully close to mine…?”

“Uh…”

Before you could fully respond, Levi stuttered, “Ah, h-h-hold on, this isn’t what you think! I didn’t mean to knock you down and land on top of you, it was an accident!”

Finding his bumbling amusing, you decided to tease him a bit, rather than letting him know that you knew that. “Someone’s feeling assertive today, huh?” You weren’t sure if he could see, but you shot Levi a cheeky wink as you spoke.

His volume rising as he grew more embarrassed, Levi tried to defend himself. “I-it’s not like that! C’mon, don’t say stuff like–”

“Mnn…” 

You could feel the soft breeze of Levi’s head whipping to look towards Mammon’s bed in tandem with your own. His brother groaned, then let out another snore. You felt a little more weight press into you as Levi breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“A-anyway…” He looked at you again, paused to gather his bearings, then said, “we’d better find Seraphina-chan ASAP!” 

The demon scrambled to get off of you, then helped you up as he scanned for his figure.

“Mammon’s room is totally different from mine, huh?”

“Mhm,” you very quietly hummed, hoping it would remind Levi to keep his voice down.

“I’m guessing maybe… you like this sort of room better…?”

You let out a hushed chuckle. “We’re at risk of getting caught snooping around Mammon’s stuff, and that’s what you’re worried about?” You nudged Levi’s arm, then took the neutral route. Both rooms were sick, in your opinion. “I don’t really have a preference either way.”

“Ahahaha!” You winced at your companion’s volume. He’d been too loud and too nervous ever since your little tumble together. “I mean, yeah, of course, right? It’s just a room!” 

Worried about the steadily raising decibels, you tried to cut him off. “L-Levi–” 

“Like, who cares?!” 

Oh good lord.

“Levi!” you whisper-yelled. 

Just as his name left your mouth, Mammon groaned again. This time, he spoke. “Mmn… quiet down…”

“Shit.”

“Oh no!” Levi exclaimed.

Mammon slurred, “Whoever’s disturbed my… my sleep… I got a pile driver with yooour name on it…” 

“I think he’s only half awake?!” the purple-haired avatar speculated. 

Your eyes finally having adjusted to the dark, you could see his features better. As Levi looked towards you, you were looking at Mammon, who was skulking closer to the two of you.

“Levi!” You whispered again, “Watch out!”

The older demon’s form began to square up, and he growled as he inched dangerously close. “Ah!” Levi squeaked. “He’s coming in for a pile driver!”

If you weren’t terrified of, you know, the pile driver, this situation would have been hilarious. Unfortunately, your safety was on the line. You dodged out of the way, and noticing that Levi was frozen in shock, you told him, “Dodge right!” 

He obeyed, and Mammon missed him, falling onto the couch and right back to a full-on sleep.

“Ugh, what was that?!” Levi shook his head, then drew closer to you while still scanning the room. “Okay, now that he’s asleep again, it’s back to the search. This time we’re going to find Seraphina-chan, and–” He cut himself off with a gasp.

“What?” you questioned.

“I-i-it can’t be…” Levi groaned, falling to his knees beside Mammon. “That box underneath Mammon…”

“What about it?”

Levi didn’t – no, couldn’t – answer in coherent words. He simply stuttered and fumbled and flailed, his frustration growing as he gave up on speech and motioned towards the object in question. You could only assume it was his dear, sweet–

“Seraphina-chan…” 

Yep.

“She’s… she’s been flattened…” he mourned.

You kneeled down to comfort the demon, but just as your fingertips touched his back, he tensed up, stood up, and you could only assume he was about to yell. You didn’t risk the possibility of it. Thinking fast, you stood up too, clasping a hand over Levi’s mouth. He looked furious and his face felt red-hot as he groaned questioningly into your palm. 

“Chill. I’ve got this.”

Knowing that, even in this timeline, Mammon had a huge soft spot for you, you were ready to use it to your advantage. He was laying on his side facing towards Levi and yourself, and you hoped that if Mammon opened his eyes, you’d at least be blocking his view of his younger brother. If Mammon saw you first, he’d probably be too flustered to notice Levi was there at all.

“Mammonnn,” you whispered sweetly, running a hand through his snow-white hair. 

“Mn…”

The demon said your name, and your heart fluttered a little, unsure if he was even awake. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wholeheartedly reciprocate the avatar of greed’s feelings. 

“Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?”

Groaning again, he wrapped his arms around your waist, nearly pulling you on top of him. You held in a surprised yelp as you lost your balance. Your cheeks grew flushed as you gripped the back cushion of the sofa, so as to not further damage Seraphina-chan with your added weight. Hearing Levi growl from behind you, you turned to face him the best you could, and put your index finger to your lips. 

A silent, “Dude, shut up and trust me.”

Facing forward again, you placed a featherlight hand to Mammon’s back.

“Come on, let’s goh!” 

The next thing you knew, the second-born was tightening his grip around your midsection and hoisting you up over his shoulder, all while he raised himself back to his feet. You cupped a hand over your now-horizontal body to muffle an instinctive scream. Then, turning your upper half the best you could, you looked back towards Levi. 

“Grab her!” you whisper-yelled, motioning towards the couch as you were brought further away from it.

“W-what about you?!”

“What about me?! We came here for Seraph– oof!” 

Mammon dropped you onto the bed alongside him, before tugging you close. You were shorter than him, but he’d positioned you higher than himself, and was hugging your lower stomach to his face. Your shirt was riding up a bit, and you could feel his hot, steady breaths against the exposed skin. 

You breathed out a jagged sigh before metaphorically shaking several very naughty thoughts from your head, and continued to explain to the now-closer Levi, “We came here for Seraphina-chan. I’ll… I’ll figure something out, just get out of here and do un-flattening surgery on her, or something.”

Cradling the squished box to his chest, Levi looked between you and Mammon a few times before nodding. “A-alright. Uh…”

Backing away while still facing you, Levi seemed to be hesitant to leave you there. You motioned your head towards the door, and Levi finally gave up. 

“Uh, thanks for the help,” he offered before scurrying away.

When Levi shut the door, it became apparent to you how dark it truly was in Mammon’s room. In the present – Or was it technically the future? Whatever – Mammon normally kept a few dim lights on as he slept. You figured that it must’ve been a later Devildom development, because it was truly pitch black at the moment.

Not wanting to wake Mammon, but not wanting to scare him with your presence in case he did wake up either, you had the right mind to attempt to think of an alibi. 

Unfortunately, you’d soon learn that you wouldn’t have time for that.

Mammon sleep-spoke your name again as one of his arms shifted lower, now wrapping around your butt. You had a light hold on his shoulder, but the motion of his strong arm wrapping around a more intimate spot made you instinctively grip much tighter. 

In the future, this would’ve barely affected you. But given that Mammon only scarcely knew you in this timeline, and it had been so long since you’d last received a touch beyond a swift hug or light arm-link from any of your lovers, this was significantly more… exciting, to say the least.

“Mm…?” You sucked in a breath and remained silent as Mammon slowly came to. “W…w-what’s…?” 

Shit.

His eyes were slowly blinking open, and they grew wider as they trailed up your form. Not knowing if you should meet his eyes or look away, you were kind of stuck, reluctantly settling for the top of his hair. The demon reached around you to grab a remote from his bedside table, turning some dim lights on above his mattress. 

It took a moment before he could register the position he was in. Then, Mammon shouted your name. Was it fear? Shock? Embarrassment? You had no idea, because you’d assumed you felt exactly the same.

Quick to react, you came up with the most Mammon-friendly excuse that you could think of:

“I-I… I was here playing games with Levi, and I didn’t want to walk home this late, but I didn’t want to stay in his room either… a-and I kind of missed you, so…” 

It wasn’t entirely wrong. You did miss him… the him that you knew, of course, but it was still him nonetheless. You’d take any version of him at that point.

As you spoke, you looked everywhere but Mammon’s eyes. When he didn’t respond, you finally took a peek, and your breath hitched. His pupils were blown wide, and he had a dreamy yet carnal look to him that you haven’t seen since you were in your previous timeline.

After an almost-cocky-but-mostly-nervous laugh, Mammon slid the arm that was around your ass up towards your back, sending a shiver up your spine as his palm grazed your bare skin. 

“Of course you’d come to the Great Mammon in time of need,” he responded. “Some attendant you are, making me take care of you.” You rolled your eyes at his typical tsundere behavior, but smiled anyway. 

“C’mere, you,” he mumbled, pulling you down closer to his level. 

Then, Mammon pressed a kiss to your forehead – you didn’t even think he realized he was doing that as it happened – and repositioned so that you were able to lay against his toned chest. 

You hadn’t meant to sleep over, but that’s exactly what happened. You weren’t about to object to a comfy night with one of your favorite non-humans.

[thedummysdummy]

A Tigress Always Gets Her Way

I just got Victor's tiger New Year card and thought it needed just a little bit of a date to go with it. I hope you enjoy ^_^

“You’re making that face again.” 

Victor looked up from the carrot he was grating and lowered his eyebrows. Sure enough, the girl was right there, leaning on the counter and resting her chin in her hands. Her best ‘puppy dog’ eyes stared directly into his soul. “You know that face doesn’t work on me.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked, lifting one foot and tilting her head slightly. “You know exactly how cute I am!” Victor huffed and continued grating the carrot, while the girl puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. She was not going to be defeated! She had more than one strategy up her sleeve, after all. 

She slid around the counter to stand behind Victor and wrapped her arms around his waist. “What are you doing, dummy?” he rumbled, the tones vibrating in her hands. Without speaking a word, she set about undoing the buttons of his shirt and caressing his abs with gentle fingertips. “Mmm.” A pleased groan echoed in his chest and Victor pressed his back into her body. “Mmm. You’re going to delay dinner if you keep up with mischievous pranks like this, you know. How am I supposed to cook when you’re being sly?” His breathy voice told the girl she was getting exactly the reaction she wanted and a smile spread across her face. 

“I’m not being sly. I’m using all of my available resources to reach my goals, just like you taught me.” She nibbled at his neck as she finished unbuttoning his shirt and pulled it down over his shoulders. “This strategy is called ‘bribing the boss’ and I find it’s usually pretty effective.” A pleasant laugh shook Victor’s shoulders and he slid the bowl further back on the counter before spinning around suddenly and wrapping his long, warm arms around her. The world suddenly became very small as his intoxicating scent filled her nostrils. 

“Cheeky and a tease. I’m going to have to do something about that.” Victor spun back around to the counter with the girl still in his arms and lifted her onto the counter. He pulled down her shirt and nibbled her collarbone, hard enough that she gasped slightly. “How do you like your own medicine, hmm?” 

She laughed and kissed Victor on the cheek. “Perhaps I gave CEO Victor a little too much medicine. But it is all part of my strategy!” The girl placed her hands on his now-exposed pectoral muscles and beamed. “I think that’s enough convincing for now. Time to get back to cooking dinner!” 

The girl slipped out of Victor’s arms and hopped down from the counter while flashing him a bright smile. “Besides. I already bought the costumes! So CEO Victor has no choice but to say yes and attend the New Year celebration with me!” 

“If you were going to use that excuse in the first place, why did you feel the need to ‘bribe the boss’, hm?” Victor rumbled pleasantly, not bothering to return his shirt to its proper position. “Is it because you simply wanted to remove my shirt? You do seem rather fond of undoing my buttons.” A flush came over the girl’s cheeks, but she made no move to deny it. “That’s what I thought. Now, go wash up. Dinner is almost ready.” Victor waved the grater as if to smack her butt with it and chuckled as she hustled away toward the bedroom. 

What a dummy. 

~~~

Victor looked in the mirror and sighed, but made no move to remove the ridiculous ears, tail, and paws with which the girl had so eagerly adorned him. “Come on, we’re going to be late.” 

The girl came stumbling into the bathroom with her own costume partially on and the tail in her hands. “Victorrrrrr, I need help putting on my tail!” She gave him her most pathetic frown and held the object out toward him. Victor sighed, but accepted the costume piece and gently attached it to her waist. He did have to admit…she did look rather cute. 

“Alright, let’s go! Anna texted me that the food has arrived, so we need to get going! We don’t want the long life noodles to get cold before we get there!” She grabbed at his hand and Victor sighed. As if it wasn’t her that had held them up in the first place…

Yet he allowed her to drag him to the front door, paused long enough for him to lock it, and returned to pulling him toward the car. The venue for her company’s celebration was really only five minutes away, which was why they hadn’t felt the need to leave any earlier. But they failed to account for traffic at this hour, which extended the drive to nearly fifteen minutes. 

The girl bounced in the chair next to him with excitement, her little tiger ears wiggling with the movement of her body. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he covertly glanced over at her before returning his gaze to the road. Childish…but she was his childish dummy. 

They finally reached the venue and the girl burst from the car the moment Victor put it in park. “Why are you in such a hurry?” he called after her, but made no move to rush. Nothing was going to happen to her between the car and the front door. He ensured the car was locked and leisurely strolled toward the building while straightening his ears and tail. The sound of music could be heard through an open window and balloons colored the light which struck the sidewalk. Scents of beef, garlic, and soy sauce pulled him in and bid him welcome to the brightly-lit room full of happy party attendees. 

His girl was already surrounded by Willow, Anna, Kiki, and Minor, all of whom were wearing some variation of tiger costume and laughing. Victor lingered in the doorway for a moment, just watching her in her element. Truly there was no deeper beauty than his girl when she was truly happy. 

Music filled his ears and time seemed to stand still as he leaned in the door frame with a twinkle in his eye. She turned in what felt like slow motion and beckoned him to her, hand extended for him to catch hold of as he had so many times before. 

So many more times than she even realized.

He couldn’t help reflecting on the other ‘new births’ that this girl had brought into his life as they celebrated this new year. From the sandcastle of their youth to the orphanage, to the roads where he saved her life in return, to LFG and more universes than he could count, the girl had shaped and renewed each rebirth of Victor. 

And that? That was why he played games, ate long life noodles, and waltzed across the ballroom floor at her request. And why he wore a silly tiger costume through it all. Because honestly, in the end? That girl had saved him. There was no request so silly that he would not do it to see that genuine smile on her cheeks. 

When the night was over, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a squeeze. She was surprised to see he had worn the ears through the entire party. But before she could say anything, Victor bit her ear and whispered, “You bribed the boss to get those, remember? Well, it’s time for you to pay up. Let’s go home.”

[thisusernameiswack]

We’ll be ok

❖ A/N: alright this’ll probably be my last post for a while. Usually I post once a week, but I keep making new oneshots. These were made in one day too. I suppose you could say I had Shiggy brain rot. Hope you enjoy <3

❖ Warnings: depressing topics, abandonment, insecurities, self doubt, vomiting, ptsd?, codependency, lmk is there’s more

As you awoke from your sleep, you heard sniffles behind your shoulder. “Shig?” You tried to turn around to face him. Caress him, comfort him but his strong arms disallowed you. Keeping you in place, your back tightly held against his chest. His heart was beating fast too fast.

Oh no. Not again.

It must’ve been another one of those night frights. The nightmares which contained his most traumatic experiences. Sometimes, if you were lucky he would indulge in telling you the things that he saw in those dreams. Other times he just shut you out. It was easier that way. The nightmares were rare occurrences. But they seemed to get worse by the months. At first he tried to shake it off. It wasn’t until the dreams got more and more disturbing. One time he actually felt sick to his stomach and puked in the tin can next you guys’ bed. You made sure to rub his back, and ran a bath for him to feel somewhat better.

You stayed by his side when he needed you, he appreciated it even if he didn’t say so all the time. But at times he didn’t even have to. A simple look told you how he felt and that would be enough. Tonight however he thanked you differently. He held you close, smothering your neck in light kisses and saying quick thank you’s.

It hurt his pride sometimes. Just seeing how weak and pathetic he was after a nightmare. It didn’t matter to you though. Your feelings for him haven’t changed in the slightest. You told him it was ‘natural’ there was no need to feel ‘ashamed’. You understood and were grateful he showed you so much vulnerability in the first place. You knew how hard it was getting him to open up in the beginning. You guys came a long way, so you appreciated the transparency. The way he was needy at times and even the way he was whiny sometimes.

“Do you love me?”

Of course, I’ll never stop loving you. “I love you Shig.”

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.”

I could- no, would never. “I’ll never leave you.”

“And you’ll never get tired of me right?”

“Shig that’s impossible you get on my nerves quite often.” He laughed but the sound was empty it was broken, tired, and half hearted. It was an attempt to cheer him up. It didn’t quite work so you settled your hand right where his arm was holding you by your stomach. You squeezed it once, twice. “I’ll always stay by your side no matter what.”

He was silent for a moment. You thought it was because he was registering the words but no.

“You don’t think I’m a monster?”

Now you were silent. Out of all the things you didn’t expect him to ask that. I mean…you felt like he thought he wasn’t enough at times…but a monster? Objectively he wasn’t one. Some of the things he did definitely would define him as one. Especially with his quirk. People already deemed him a danger to society, a bomb needing to be eradicated. He was just a child back then though. A kid that was feared, neglected and abandoned..all alone left to grow up and become something feared 10x more and hated just as much. Sometimes you wondered if you didn’t know Shiggy would you even like him at all. Would you judge him like the rest? Or would you lend that hand that he so desperately needed in those dire times.

You felt his grip loosen on you when he didn’t receive your answer but you grabbed his arms and held them close. You’re not going anywhere. “I don’t think of you as a monster. Just troubled and misunderstood.” It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, then again he was glad you didn’t see him like that in the first place; evil, unkind, a cold blooded killer, a crazy lunatic..the list could go on.

“Is that a good enough answer for you?” You asked simply because he doubted your words at times. Thought you were just saying that to ‘make him feel better’. Some days it was worse than others. Where he would ask deeper questions or would leave one day and come back the next. All because he didn’t feel loved enough. But you tried. Expressed your love and care for him as much as you could. Used different tactics, love languages and even other obscure methods. Now don’t get me wrong it’s not always like this. But when the time appears you know what to do. Others would leave, say it’s too much and not worth the hassle. Once upon a time you would think like that. As the months passed by you actually didn’t find it quite bad. It didn’t stress you out and it didn’t put any emotional strain on you so you assumed you were fine.

He finally answered back. “You’re too good for me.”

You turned around in his embrace and attempted to stare at those vermillion eyes in the dark. “I’m just in love Tomu. I want the best for you.”

He cried some more and squeezed you into a tight hug. “I’ll be better I promise.”

You hesitantly patted his back. “I know you will. You’re getting better everyday baby.”

He kissed your cheek and held you close till the tears ran out and he drifted off to sleep. Just like that night you rubbed his back to soothe all the pain, the hurt, the neglect. He was capable of love and being loved. He just had a hard time accepting it. It was a hard adjustment. But it’s fine, he’ll be ok. We’ll be ok.

Quick lil reminder. You aren’t obligated to be your lover’s therapist. You could help them get better but do not stress yourself out to better their mental health. Their troubles can release a heavy burden on you. Remember it is not your job to fix them. Bc next thing you’ll know you’ll be putting your every focus on them. You are a person too with your own troubles. Make sure you care ab yourself just as much as you care ab that person. You guys are both important. Remember that please. Be safe and love healthily💕

[minhosimthings]

Hold Me Without Hurting Me

Chapter 11: Hyssop and Hidden Feelings

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, nothing much but it's a bumpy story, suggestive at the end

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

A/N: I finally got my ass up and posted another chapter yay. I've been so busy nowadays so haven't been able to find time to write much so I'm sorry if this chapter isn't that good

SERIES MASTERLIST

7 years ago

Jay's hands were shaking and his mind was racing at the speed of an atom bomb bursting and spreading its debris. With clammy hands and untied shoelaces, his mind was only on one thing.

'Y/N's going to do it today and I'm not letting her'

The air around him felt suffocating as he glanced at his watch. Sweat and exhaustion didn't deter him, as he ran across the bridge, inching closer to you, standing nonchalantly on top of the grills, looking down at the trembling waters below, with an emotionless face. Your hands were gripping the bars tightly as your mind twisted itself into bits and pieces.

"Y/N no!" Jay cried out, as he reached you, putting an arm on yours, as far as he could reach. "No love, your stronger than this come on." He said in a soothing tone. As he looked back to this memory, he often wondered how he could ever had concealed his own tears.

Your tear stained face turned to him, blank expression on your face, and your grip on the metal bar getting looser. "Please Jay." You begged, feeling a sob come into your throat, "Please let me go, I'm begging you."

Your tone of voice was enough to break him into shards of glass.

"Y/N please we can talk about this." He begged back, his tears still enclosed in his eyes. "Maybe I'm done with talking Jay!" You cried, the imprisoned sob coming out of your throat, "I'm done Jay! Now please let go."

“You know if you jump, I’ll jump too.” “You wouldn’t.” “Oh, you don’t know how much I love you to not do that." You knew you couldn't beat him at his words.

"Y/N come on." Jay said, his words flowing like the calm evening wind, "Who will I have to pick Salvias with me I you do this huh? Who will I have to walk home with everyday? Who will I have to steal my chocolate and crash over at my place to rant about her new crush?"

A pathetic giggle leapt out of your mouth as you turned your body to Jay's and climbed over the bridge, falling into Jay's arms like an autumn leaf. "I'm here I'm here it's alright." Jay rubbed his hand down your back as you sobbed into his arms, his hands supporting your tired head, "Shh my yarrow shush now It's alright."

Current time

"Jungwon please tell me this looks good." You spun out of your room in your dress, posing uncertainly in fron of your assistant whose eyes went wide as his clapped his tiny hands together excitedly.

"It looks amazing Ma'am. This is the one!" He giggled, "I'm sure Mr Park would want to date you for real now." "Has anyone ever told you you're adorable?" You raised an eyebrow at him as he went red, "Don't worry Kayla will love you in that suit."

You checked yourself out in the mirror as your eyes traced the beautiful dress. Off shoulder with blue beads beautifully decorating the golden silk, it was the dress of your teenage dreams. Funny for Jay to have sent it to your room with the note "Get ready. It's party time."

Nevertheless you hadn't objected knowing that if you did this, you'd be out of this stupid fake dating deal. Yet something inside your heart ached. It ached for you to call out to Jay, to tell him you still remember everything about him, from his favourite song to his nickname for you.

My yarrow, he would call you.

Yarrow. The one flower whose meaning you never knew. Your mother never told you, and the book with the meanings sewed in never revealed its secret. You were convinced that Jay made the word up, until one day you saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers from the window of the shop across and realised that it actually did exist after having tea with the shop's old owner. Nevertheless Jay refused to tell you the meaning of it to this day. And as much as it angered you, you found it quite romantic, to be called by a name you knew not of.

"Jay did you maybe plan to tell me what this party was for or did that skip your big brain?" You questioned as the car moved speedily across the road. The hotel you were staying at was a big one, the size of two football fields to be approximate, and you had heard that there was a luxurious party hall just a few miles from the main hotel. Excited wasn't exactly a word you'd use to describe your current state, as you adjusted your tight fit dress, admiring the sheen coming off from it. You noticed numerous other cars parked outside of the party hall which, to have a description of it as 'grandeur' would be an understatement. It was big, bigger than the hotel, with mighty pillars supporting it, gold gleaming off of every corner, stone gargoyles keeping menacing guard.

"Come on Y/N." Jay opened his car door, "This party may be our only chance to break this deal." You swallowed the lump in your throat and climbed off the car, uncertainty clouding your thoughts.

Jay's arm felt like cotton at your waist. He was so afraid to touch you, to remind you that he used to be yours, and you used to his.

His yarrow.

No one else's ever. And yet there was that lingering bitterness in him. Why hadn't you stopped him? He wanted to turn back, knowing you'd love that, but why didn't you stop him?

"Woah this is-" you stared at the interior of the party hall, "-dramatic." Your words rang with nothing but truth as you stared at the brightly lit hall. Chandeliers draped from everywhere and huge curtains of what seemed like red silk decorated the seams with grandeur. People parading around with champagne clutched in their grimy hands stopped in their tracks as their eyes fell upon Jay and you.

"Mr Park! Welcome!" A raucous voice came towards your ear as you saw Mr Hwang from the meetings step forward, glasses of champagne in his hands. "Mr Hwang." Jay bowed curtly and took the glasses handing one to you.

God his perfume smelled good.

"And how do you do Miss Yang?" Mr Hwang's starry eyes directed towards yours, taking you off balance. "Oh I'm doing quite well thank you." You shot a polite smile at him, as you noticed, from the corner of your eye, Choi Minho, standing and glaring while sipping his champagne.

"Y/N come on." Jay tugged at your arm, making you turn your head towards his. "Y-yeah sorry." You quickly apologised, making your way across the crowd with Jay leading you. You noticed how the eyes turned to you viciously as if you were a fire spitting dragon threatening everyone in your presence. In a faint try to ignore them, you sped up and walked at Jay's pace, keeping your head down and looking at his shoes.

"Ignore the eyes darling." Jay whispered in your ear, one hand snaking around your waist, "They're just jealous." His words provided a sort of comfort to you as you finally reached up to a place to sit down.

Great, you thought, now come the vultures.

It had been exactly two and a half hours and you had downed twenty glasses of rose champagne. The sweet bitterness of the drink ran through your veins fast, like cold winter chill.

Winter, such a pleasant season.

All the flowers would wilt and you and Jay would have the task of settling the mud down. It was beautiful to watch the snowflakes fall like a crown on his messy hair, as he worked his hands through the cold mud. Good times, you thought.

The room kept melting into nothing as the voices of your boyfriend and all the guests bored into your mind.

Wait boyfriend? No not boyfriend.

Fake boyfriend, you reminded yourself as you drowsily laid an arm on Jay.

"Jay~" you let out an involuntary giggle into his chest, "wanna go home." Jay'd arm which rested on your shoulder shuddered as he felt you sink into him. He felt warm, warmer than he had before, as he looked at you rubbing your nose against his suit.

"Im sorry gentlemen." He stood your figure up gently, keeping a protective arm round your waist, "We'll have to continue the conversation next time."

"Jayy-" your mouth drawled as you snuggled into Jay's grip. He did have a comforting grip, which you wanted to melt into as he carried you to your bed.

This was familiar, you thought, his hands tracing your body, as if he was tracing lines of art.

Familiar, too familiar.

Jay settled you down gently on the bed and wrapped the blankets around you as your eyes fell upon his dimly lit face. His lips.

"Jay." You breathed out, inching closer to him, hands gripping his collar. "My yarrow you're too drunk." Jay recoiled from you, placing his hands on top of yours to shove the grip off of his collar. But you didn't budge.

The speed at which it happened shocked Jay, your lips swiftly landing on his, bringing back drunken memories for him. Your lips still felt like his childhood couch, where he had let you drift off to sleep as he cried himself to sleep about not wanting to leave you. 'God please let our paths intertwine again', a silent prayer used to leave his tongue. Your lips still lingered with the taste of Iris and Hyssop bundled up with lilac ribbon and handed off to Mrs. Next door for school credit.

Jay's hands unknowingly made his way to the slit of your dress, squeezing your thigh hard as you moaned with not a tint of holiness into his lips.

"Jay- want you." You whined, feeling his fingers grip your skin. "So do I darling." He responded, reaching up your thigh, making sure not to commit the mistake he had made years ago.

[elles-archives]

We need some Sebastian Stan X marvel!actress!reader. Like they’re in an Interview or something

Inappropriate Questions

Sebastian Stan x Marvel Actress!Reader.

(A/N: I hope this is alright. I had wanted to write something like this but I also wanted to highlight some of the misogyny that some of the actresses have been exposed to. I hope you like it.)

Word Count: 699

Warnings: Misogyny, Brief sexual inneuendo (blink and you’ll miss it)

Masterlist | Requests are Open | Taglist

***

You were on your last interview of the day. You had been partnered up with your husband Sebastian so that made the gruelling process of interviewers asking the same questions over and over again a little easier.

Not that you hated doing press. You loved answering questions for the fans and having the opportunity to share your opinions about the film. But there were often misogynistic questions involved. Something that you, Scarlett, Elizabeth and every other Marvel actress had to put up with. There had been times where you were asked about your costumes when you male co-stars were asked about their jobs and there had even been a few times where an interviewer had asked you a question and spoken over you before you had a chance to finish the answer.

You didn’t have much longer left before the film premiered and then you could move onto the next project. The only thing you had left to get through was the interviews. Quite often you would be partnered up with someone who would always step in to help you out but you knew that really there shouldn’t be a need for them to do that and that you should be asked insightful questions straight away like your male colleagues.

*

You and Sebastian went into the room before the interviewer. You knew who he was and he quite frankly had some sexist views. ‘At least this is my last one for today.’ You thought to yourself as you prepared for the interview. Sebastian noticed you were in thought though.

“You alright?” He asked with a concerned look on his face.

“Yeah, just tired and want to get back to the hotel.” You reassured him and patted his thigh. He nodded in response and grabbed your hand to hold. Just as he did that the interviewer, Jack, came into the room. He had a smug grin on his face and sat down with an air of confidence which made you nervous.

“Hi guys, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He said as he looked at the pair of you.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“So,” Jack began. “This isn’t the first time you two have worked together but it is the first time since you got married, Sebastian what is it like working with your wife?” Jack asked.

“Well, it’s the same as before but there is a deeper connection between the two of us than before. Like we share a trailer now and spend more time together which is great.”

Jack smiled at Seb’s answer, obviously pleased before he moved on. “So if either of you could be another character from the MCU, who would it be?”

“Personally I would be Rocket.” Sebastian joked. “He’s just super cool.”

“I would be Black Widow. I’ve always loved her since…” That was as far as you got before Jack interrupted you. You squeezed Seb’s hand, trying to keep your irritation at bay.

“So Y/N.” Jack looked at you. “Your costume is pretty tight, so is it difficult to get on and off and do you wear anything underneath it? In the trailer you can’t see an underwear line.”

You were completely astonished by the question. Before you could even object it Sebastian was already turned around and calling for the interview to be stopped. Jack sat there in ignorance. As if he hadn’t just asked super offensive questions.

“Why are we stooping?” He asked. This time you jumped in before Seb.

“Because what you just asked me is completely inappropriate and I don’t have to sit here and answer questions like that.”

“I’m just asking what the fans want to know.” Jack pathetically tried to defend himself. 

“I doubt any true fan would want to know about what’s under my costume.” You said as you and Seb made your way to the exit. 

You could feel the anger radiating off of you and Seb could sense it. 

“Why don’t we go back to the hotel, and I’ll do that thing you like.” Sebastian whispered suggestively in your ear. All you could do was grin as you allowed your husband to lead the way. Ready to take the stress of the day away.

***

Sebastian Stan Taglist:

@ctlywoo

@hehehehannahthings

@princess-baby18

@ccmarvelxx

@evans-stan-thirstthotts

[tomhiddlestonfanfic]

It’s Alright

TITLE: It’s Alright CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One shot WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Actor Tom PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston/Gender Neutral Reader GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Platonic AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m so sorry that it’s been so long since I last updated. To be honest, I am struggling right now with... life (mental health, economy, studies). I know that a lot of people struggle, and help and emotional support can be so hard to find. I received a beautiful request from a very brave person some time ago, and it really moved me and inspired me to write ‘It’s Alright’. REQUEST: The reader has recently started socialising again after a year of struggling with severe depression episodes, and is trying to get back to life. Tom has invited the reader to an event. When they (the reader) arrive, they are overcome by emotions that they have tried to keep to themselves for so long. Tom takes notice of this and comforts the reader. DEDICATION: I dedicate this to my dear friend who requested this story and to all those who are struggling. In my eyes, you’re true heroes and I’m proud of you. I keep my fingers crossed that it’s going to be alright for all of you. If you’re struggling and don’t feel like you have anyone to turn to for support: please, feel free to write me a PM (or is it called DM?) and I’ll try my hardest to support you to the best of my ability. You are valuable! Your life is valuable! You matter!

BANNER CREDIT: Prislaa    

TAGLIST: @waddlenut @sleutherclaw @twhiddlestonsstuff  

It’s Alright

A wave of panic washed over you as you found yourself amidst a sea of people. Surrounded by happy faces, all completely clueless to the struggle you were going through. The agony you were suffering. No one seemed to take notice of you. Except for him. Tom. He had watched you from a distance. Excited to greet you, he had made his way through the crowd of people towards you. Just as you were about to break, his strong arms wrapped around you. Shielding you from the overwhelming experience of being surrounded by people.

With an arm protectively wrapped around your shoulders, Tom led you through the crowd and into an unpeopled area past the wardrobe where you had turned in your coat earlier.

“[Your name]. Hi,” Tom greeted you quietly and his blue eyes were so tender as he looked at you. The area you found yourself in was dimly lit and around a corner from the entrance, so you were out of view from the guests arriving at or leaving the event that had gone on for hours. “I’m so glad you came. I know it can’t have been easy for you,” Tom validated.

“Thank you, Tom,” you mumbled. “And thank you for inviting me,” you added appreciatively. “Most of my friends have given up on even asking me to come with them to things like this. I know it’s my own fault, since I’ve declined so many times, but it just felt so nice to be included for once. I really want to start living again, not just staying alive.”

“I’m so glad to hear that, [your name],” Tom replied and smiled warmly at you. “I’m so proud of you for coming here tonight.”

You smiled embarrassedly. He was proud of you.

“It’s a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” you asked him self-consciously.

“What is?” he wondered.

“The fact that I am getting out and doing things normal people do makes you feel proud of me,” you explained and smiled sadly. “It’s a bit sad, isn’t it? Pathetic, even.”

“There’s nothing pathetic about what you have been through,” Tom objected. “It really isn’t,” he insisted. “Please, look at me.”

You looked up at him and your eyes met. His eyes were deep blue like an ocean, holding the same sense of depth and mysteriousness. You knew from the way he looked at you that he was thinking about something, but as usual you could never quite figure out what was going inside that wonderful mind of his.

“Sometimes in life you get to a point where it’s no longer about living well and making the best of it. Sometimes in life, it’s just about surviving… about staying alive, like you said yourself. It becomes a matter of just getting through another day, even though every cell in your body is fighting you and telling you it’s just not worth it,” Tom said earnestly. “You’ve just fought a war against yourself, getting yourself through each and every day. Just because the war inside of you is invisible to the world, doesn’t make it any less real. I see you, [your name], and I admire you. You’re brave and you’re strong, and all those people here have no idea what a hero you truly are. But I know, and that’s what makes me feel so proud of you.”

“Tom, I…” You had no idea how to respond to his insightful and kind words. “I…” you uttered, but couldn’t bring yourself to say any more. You turned your back to him in order to hide your tears. You had a habit of keeping your tears to yourself, since you didn’t want to be perceived as weak. You were used to forcing a smile and keeping up an act to make it seem as though you were in fact doing better than you really were. But this time, all that sadness that you had been carrying around for so long, finally broke through those restraints you had carefully put in place and secured.

You buried your face in your hands as the tears ran heedlessly down your face. Tom wrapped his arms around you from behind and held you tight.

“It’s alright,” he assured you and you began to sob so much that your chest hurt. You were hurting so bad and had been in pain for so long that you no longer remembered what it was like to feel like you were doing okay.

As you cried your heart out, your legs gave in and Tom sat down on the carpeted floor with you, still embracing you from behind. You relaxed your shoulders and leaned back against his chest. The warmth of his body against your back, his strong arms wrapped over your chest and his fingers gently caressing your upper arms made you feel like you had finally reached your safe haven.

The tears, the crying and the pain all came out in waves. At first fiercely like a storm at sea, but eventually the intensity of it all began to die down. You felt completely drained of energy and let out a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry, I-” you began trying to explain, but Tom just hushed you.

“It’s alright,” he assured you. “Just relax and rest for a bit. I’m right here with you.”

You smiled and sighed with content as you felt more relaxed and at ease than you had in a long time. You shut your tired eyes and peacefully drifted off to sleep in Tom’s arms. For the first time in a long time, you felt like things were actually going to be alright.

[kiwiplaetzchen]

The fluffy white niffler was nodding itself to sleep. It had stayed up all night to pull off its heist in one of the castle's tall towers. But then, the rustling pulled it out of its stupor, and it peered blearily at the other niffler. The white one gave a shy chirp. Even if his head floof wasn’t spiky today, it was still very much artfully mussed - perhaps the teal one had just woken up? 

Up close, the white niffler could really admire the teal one’s assets – his eyes, although sleepy, still held the depths of chaos. The mark of a good niffler. The white one had also noticed how those eyes were often unblinking, staring down challengers with unbridled ferocity. Like the way he held strong against that tall, blonde student with too many muscles. Which was what gave the fluffy white niffler the idea to present a trophy from said student. It timidly turned its head to the side and held out the belt buckle, hoping this present would please the handsome one. 

Nosy tilted his head, his eyes darting back and forth between the white Niffler and the shiny offering presented to him. The teal King waddled a bit closer and sniffed the fellow Niffler curiously.

A belt buckle, huh? Nosy honked again. He reached out with his tiny paws, plucking the buckle from the white Niffler's grasp. Examining the treasure, Nosy eyed it closely, then gave it a good sniff.

Ah, that familiar, cheap, unworthy, pathetic, and unmistakable scent. A smug smile crept onto his face as he recognised it. Oh yes, this was stolen from the blond twerp, alright. With a triumphant huff and a grunt, Nosy shoved the polished object into his pouch, this might be useful for another opportunity.

He couldn't help but give the white Niffler a few affectionate pets on the head, acknowledging its effort with a nod of approval. The fluffy one had done a magnificent job. This morning was off to a good start, very good indeed.

But hunger gnawed at Nosy, making his belly growl like a Chimaera. That's right! He was still on a mission to find something to eat! With one last nod to the white Niffler, he waddled away in search of breakfast, his mind already plotting.