#And have actively known for two years... To see me in that situation. So I'd noy start any naughty business | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hugshughes · 4 months

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mad woman N. Moyle

Nolan Moyle x fem!reader

synopsis - Nolan is back in the place you two fell in love, and he can't get you out of his mind.

wc - 2.5k!

contains - UNEDITED SORRY!! cursing, NO HAPPY ENDING!(between Nolan and reader, I don't leave my readers sad you know that), um asshole!nolan as fuck, MAD WOMAN BY TSWIFT?????, um yeah i don't know, BAD BITCH!READER (you go girl), hints at future!frank nazar x reader (YOU KNOW I HAVE A HARD TIME HELPING MYSELF!!!!!!!)

an - hey y'all....... im not deceased!!! um yeah HOPE U HAD A GOOD HOLIDAYSSSSSS. some of this I couldn't tell, if it was funny or cringe so don't hate me. I don't loveeeeeee this but whatever. Frank is so cute SOMEONE REQUEST HIM ;))) anyways love u hope you enjoy!

what did you think i'd say to that? does a scorpion sting when fighting back?

Nolan felt weird. It was the first time he was back in Ann Arbor since leaving for China in the summer. He was stopping to see the boys and watch a hockey game before going back home to New York.

It was the first time he'd been in Ann Arbor since you broke up. The breakup was rough. There had been a lead up for weeks before, all you did was argue. You couldn't understand him, or anything he was doing. When you found out he was going to move to China, you felt like that was him saying you weren't important to him. He didn't seem even slightly upset about having to leave you, and when you were hysterical over it, he just called you crazy.

they strike to kill, and you know i will. you know i will.

When you realized Nolan wasn't going to be anything but indifferent about the situation, all you felt was rage. Maybe you were crazy, you felt it.

Nolan had been your boyfriend since you were a freshman, and he was a junior at Michigan. You dated for almost three years, and then he threw you to the side. Now you were interning in the athletics department at Michigan while you finished school, and you were talking with your supervisors about a job opening after graduation, so you were sticking around in Ann Arbor for a while longer.

It was honestly embarrassing the way you tried for you two, while it seemed he couldn't have cared less. The boys felt bad, they'd known you their whole college careers, you'd help them through losses, comforted them, cared for them. You were the best female influence they had while at college.

They hung out with you all summer, trying to include you in all of their activities, because they knew what you were going through. They loved Nolan, and they loved you. You didn't make them feel like they had to choose, and Nolan really couldn't even if he wanted to, being on the other side of the world from all of you.

You were still in Ann Arbor, along with the boys because they still had hockey games to play before they could go home for winter break, and you worked with the hockey team in the winter, so you were sticking around as well.

what do you sing on your drive home? do you see my face in the neighbors lawn?

Nolan couldn't get you off of his mind as he drove through the small Michigan college town. He saw you everywhere. You were the only person that had stuck around with him while most of his friends left to the NHL over the years. You could tell at the last moments of your breakup Nolan was jealous, he was jealous of people like Luke, who was leaving from their loss in Tampa straight to Boston to sign with the Devils. He had always dreamed of it, but had just not come close enough.

China would take him away from it all, a new place, as far away as he could be, because it did hurt to look at all the guys he captained, knowing they'd go on to do greater things than him.

He deflected what was going on in his head to you. He accused you of being crazy, and envious, and insecure, but it was him. He felt so shitty about himself on the inside that he threw it all to you.

does she smile? or does she mouth, "fuck you forever"? every time you call me crazy, i get more crazy.

Nolan was being suffocated by the overwhelming sense of you, that Ann Arbor held. Every corner, every road, every stoplight.

Nolan pulled into a parking spot on the side of the street, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning the car off. He sat in the empty car for a few minutes. Would you be there when he walked into the dinner the boys had planned? He knew they were really close with you, seeing as he stalked your and their Instagram profiles often.

He didn't know if the guys would do it to him. He also didn't know if they knew that seeing you would affect him so much.

You knew Nolan was invited to this dinner, but you didn't really care. You'd met your peace with him over the summer, at least in your mind, you were happy. Single life had been treating you well, you were prioritizing yourself, your friends, your family, and your career and it was a perfect balance for you.

what about that? and when you say i seem angry, i get more angry.

You'd always loved the idea of working for a sports team, specifically hockey. You'd been the daughter of the Minnesota Twins physical therapist since you were born, so seeing the behind the scenes of major league teams was always exciting for you. You'd gotten your first opportunity to work with sports teams in high school, when you had an internship with a smaller hockey team in Minnesota, and since then you'd loved working with hockey. It was how you met Nolan, interning with the Michigan team your freshman year.

You were already on your second drink when you saw Nolan walk into the restaurant. Seeing him left a pit of red hot anger in your stomach. You just looked away from him before he could catch you and kept talking to Luca. Maybe the anger never left, you didn't care as long as the love you had for him did.

and there's nothing like a mad woman. what a shame she went mad.

You chose not to acknowledge him, and he understood why. The last time you talked to him, you were screaming, crying, completely confused as to why he didn't love you like you loved him. You didn't understand how after committing three years to him, he could throw all of it away without a second thought. He probably had someone. Someone he could entertain halfway across the world.

You both ignored each other, deciding it best not to talk. You knew that it wouldn't end well, the rage sitting in your chest would release itself the second you said a word to Nolan. You both drank, a lot. You partially because you wanted to get your mind off of him, and partially because Luca was challenging you to go shot for shot with him.

Nolan was embarrassed before you two broke up, and he still was, sort of. Then, he was embarrassed because he felt like he wasn't talented enough to lead his team that was chock-full of NHL prospects. Now he was embarrassed because he had realized what he let go when he let you go. And obviously all these boys could tell he had lost a good one, because they all loved and admired you so heavily.

Nolan wasn't exactly good at handling emotions like embarrassment and insecurity, since being raised on "men don't cry" mentalities. And when he was so full of these unfamiliar feelings, he took it out solely on you.

And it made you crazy, like completely batshit. You were head over heels for Nolan, had been since the day you met, and when he flipped on you, you didn't know what to do.

no one likes a mad woman. you made her like that.

Nolan was drunk. Anyone in the bar could tell you that. He didn't always handle his alcohol well, either. His eyes locked onto you, all the way down the long table full of people. You were currently talking with some of the media girls, discussing the upcoming Monday video, thinking of question ideas.

Drunk Nolan was mad you weren't paying attention to him. He always wanted your attention, while you were together, and now. He started talking, rather loudly, about you. He was saying how you were crazy, and controlling and that's why you broke up. It was because he was drunk, but that didn't mean it was okay. You heard your name, and your head snapped to the side, staring Nolan down.

"No, she's a crazy bitch! Y'guys are lucky you haven't tried somethin' with'er, she's like the bossiest girlfriend ever. Like, like when we broke up, she was just beggin' me to stay and like wouldn't let me break up with'er!"

You were seeing blood red. None of that was true. You let Nolan do whatever the fuck he wanted during your relationship. He was the possessive one.

and you'll poke the bear, 'til her claws come out.

Most of the table was staring at you, those who weren't were staring at Nolan in bewilderment. No one believed him, they had witnessed your relationship. Some of the guys were telling Nolan to shut the fuck up, knowing you were angry.

You stood up, going to the end of the table Nolan sat at. You stood on the opposite side of the table, between Frank and Nick's seats.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Nolan? Do you really need my attention? It's pathetic, to talk about me like this, especially while I'm sitting right fucking there. We get it, you're not as fucking famous as you were here in China, but you don't have to bring me into your attention seeking."

and you find something to wrap your noose around. and there's nothing like a mad woman.

Nolan saw this as an opportunity. He knew he was getting you angry, he was thriving off of it.

"See? She's crazy!"

Adam slapped Nolan over the back of the head, telling him to shut up again, looking at you with wide eyes.

"It's alright Adam, you don't need to stop him from being a bitch. Anyways, Nolan, you calling me crazy is laughable. You were the one that didn't let me wear shit! The one that got mad when I went out with my friends!"

Nolan started to turn into an angry drunk guy. You were saying true things, all of that happened through the duration of your relationship. Nolan was getting embarrassed, again. He look around the table, his eyes catching on the one person likely on his side. A media girl in her junior year at Michigan. In her two years on the team with Nolan as a part of it, she'd had a crush on him, and made it clear to you and him. He turned back to you, ready to say something that would hurt you deep.

now i breathe flames every time i talk. my cannons all firin' at your yacht.

"It's your fault I was like that, I had to worry about you whoring yourself out to everyone."

You could've jumped over the table and strangled him. Frank grabbed your hand under the table, being the sweetheart he was. You squeezed his hand back, thanking him silently. You knew Nolan was embarrassed, and jealous that you were over him, when you obviously occupied his thoughts.

"You have to be kidding me."

they say, "move on." but you know i won't.

"She's not worth it Nolan."

A bitchy little voice came from down the table, every head snapping to look at the girl who'd said it. Of course, it was the one that wanted Nolan down her throat while you two together.

"Alright babe, just because you're feening to get in his pants doesn't mean you're apart of this conversation."

She gasped, many of the people at the table let out laughs, including the other media girls, leading the girl to turn in anger at them and shout out them to stop. You laughed hard, watching her try to blubber out insults at you.

and women like hunting witches too. doing your dirtiest work for you.

"It's obvious that you're both obsessed with me, and I understand, trust me."

They both got angry, starting to let out insults at you, but they were just funny to you.

"You two are gonna be very happy with each other, you can think about me together."

Watching them get angrier and angrier with you was so funny, objectively. You turned to Frank next to you, who was laughing, hard. You mouthed, 'I'm scared' to him, making him laugh harder.

it's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.

You stepped out from between the chairs, letting Frank's hand go, moving to grab your jacket, wallet, and phone from your spot, walking back to where you were when you gagged Nolan and media girl.

"Well I'm leaving, you two have given me enough entertainment for one night."

You left the bar, giggling to yourself as you pulled out your phone on the walk to your car. You saw one of the girls texted you, reading, 'mr obsessed is going out to see you WALK SLOW ;)' You knew who she meant, Frank. He'd had a little crush on you since he'd joined the team, in age, he was only a little over a year younger than you, so it wasn't weird or anything. You thought he was super cute and he was a lot more thoughtful than Nolan had ever been, even though he wasn't even your boyfriend, you'd never even entertained him, but he was still kind and caring towards you.

i'm taking my time, taking my time, 'cause you took everything from me

You looked behind you, stopping when you saw none other than Frank Nazar jogging up to you, you smiled brightly at him.

"Hi Frank."

He smiled, laughing as he said hi. He told you he wanted to make sure you got to your car safe, of course he did, he was a gentleman. So you let him walk with you, laughing about what had taken place in the bar. When you got to your car, you got in but talked to Frank through your open window for over ten minutes. When you told him he should go back to get out of the freezing weather of Ann Arbor, he nodded and agreed, but didn't leave.

This kid would probably end up being the death of you, with his smile and pretty hair. When you finally got him to head back to the bar, he was physically shivering. You smiled warmly to yourself as you sat in your car for a couple minutes, thinking about the whole night. Seeing Nolan be such a dick confirmed everything you'd thought about him over all the months, so it felt like you were really able to let go. Move on.

watching you climb, watching you climb over people like me. the master of spin has a couple side flings. good wives always know she should be mad, should be scathing like me, but no one likes a mad woman. what a shame she went mad, you made her like that.

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meshlasolus · 7 months

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Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me

Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader

A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.

Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am

Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.

Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.

MASTERLIST

Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37

"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

It had been almost three days.

You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.

"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.

"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.

It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.

Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'

You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.

"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."

You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.

"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.

He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.

"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.

"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.

"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."

His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.

"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."

You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.

Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.

"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.

"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.

You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.

You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.

"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."

"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.

"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.

Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.

It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.

She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.

You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.

"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"

You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.

"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."

Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.

"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."

You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.

Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.

"You could work on interior stuff with me."

Did he just-?

"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."

You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.

You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.

"What kinda interior stuff?"

He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.

"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."

You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.

"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.

"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."

It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.

"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.

Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.

"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"

Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.

"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.

"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.

"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.

Joel was the first one to stand up with you.

"You don't have to-"

"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.

"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.

"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.

"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.

You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.

"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.

"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.

"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"

She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.

"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.

She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.

"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."

"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.

Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.

The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.

He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.

When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.

You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.

"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.

"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.

"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.

"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."

He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.

"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.

"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."

You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.

"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.

"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."

"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.

You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.

You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:

Missin you down here…

You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.

I’d come back if there was an open seat.

A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.

Open seat right next to me

Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…

You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.

You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.

I can’t either. Stay up there.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.

Wasn’t thinking about leavin.

This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.

Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.

“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”

Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.

“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”

He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.

“I’ll think about it.”

His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.

He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?

The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.

It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.

He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.

“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.

“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”

They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.

“Leavin’ already?”

They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.

“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.

“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”

You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-

He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.

You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.

He just bro hugged you. This man just-

He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.

“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”

“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”

You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.

You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.

“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”

He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.

You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.

“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”

"Seems like the fair thing to do."

“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.

You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.

He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.

“Was that better?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.

“You wanna come inside a while?”

Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.

“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.

“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.

He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.

He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.

“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.

“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”

He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.

“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.

“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”

He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.

“You think I’m handsome?”

He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.

“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.

“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”

You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?

“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.

“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.

“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”

It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.

“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”

“Oh, do you?”

“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”

You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.

“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”

He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.

“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.

“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”

He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.

When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.

“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”

You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.

“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”

“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”

You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.

And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.

There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.

He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.

“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.

The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.

He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.

He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.

“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.

He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.

The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.

The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.

“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”

He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.

“Let go , baby.”

You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.

You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.

The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.

“You wanna stay over?”

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If i tagged you wrong, or you want to be taken off at any time, just lmk!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #joel miller age gap #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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nebraska-is-a-myth · 11 months

Text

Abuse in 'Runaway Max': A Stranger Things criticism

One thing I know to keep in mind is that the book is told from Max’s perspective, so it's her eyes we experience the world from, and her opinions that guide us through the story. For that we have to value her as a somewhat unreliable narrator, considering she is thirteen at the time and dosnt understand certain things.

A quick timeline to keep in mind because the book handles time very messily:

Billy has just turned 17 by the time Max and Billy first meet.

After Halloween in season 2, Max says she’s known Billy for 7 months, which takes us back to early May.

They move in together three weeks after the wedding in late June, meaning Max and Billy have lived together for a total of 5 months by the time they get to Hawkins.

Neil confiscates Billy's car keys for two months in June, so I’ve taken an educated guess that Max first witnesses Neil's abuse somewhere around august, then in September/October Billy breaks Max’s friends arm, leaving for Hawkins late October.

Now onto the deep dive:

In 'Runaway Max', we learn about the terrible Hargrove family dynamic, and how the Mayfield's learn to navigate that. Max gets a very graphic front row seat of Billy's abuse in chapter 10, and during that chapter Max responds to that situation as any 13 year old would, scared and confused. Despite this however, Billy's image doesn't change in Max’s mind. She has no visible compassion for Billy at any point of the book except from this chapter, and after that she states that she’s actively trying not to care about “his stupid life and his cruel dad”.

From a writing standpoint, choosing this to be a part of Max’s character takes away from her complex experiences in an abusive household. Yes Max is a hardened character, but not exploring these difficult topics of disliking Billy while also feeling sorry for him makes her feel like just another pawn for the audience to make them dislike Billy. The writers could have made the step-siblings dynamic much more interesting to have them navigate this terrifying experience together. But I understand the duffers just wanted another one dimensional antagonist for season 2.

"I'd watched the Hargroves in action. Neil standing over billy with the belt - calling me a stupid little girl - making it clear that he thought I was weak and pointless. Knowing Neil believed that still wasnt as bad as the way Billy had hated me for trying to help him"

I have mixed feelings about this. I feel this description Max gives dutiful to anyone going through that situation, that they would feel disheartened by someone rejecting their help, and verbally berating them for it. However, it’s vitally important to understand the context of Why Billy reacts to Max this way.

During the assault on Billy that Max witnesses, Max calls out and interrupts Neil, trying to diffuse the situation. Neil responds not to Max, but to Billy “Is this the son I raised? A worthless loser who needs a little girl to fight his battles for him?” And then strikes billy again.

Max assumes this to be an attack on her, however that's not what's happening at all. Neil is using Max against Billy. He takes Max’s intervention as a sign of Billy's own weakness, a softness. “Any hint of softness and he would never let me forget” In a way Billy had been trying to teach Max to harden herself so that Neil couldn't find anything to target her for, Billy had been making her more likeable for Neil. And now this softness that Max is showing for Billy, by standing up for him, is getting him punished. It’s been implied before that this was the case, but now we are seeing it explicitly that Billy is being punished for Max’s actions. This chain reaction forces Billy into a position where he cannot be on Maxes side, he cannot be friends with Max, because siding with anyone other than his father equals punishment.

After Neil leaves, we circle back round to the sentence “Sometimes Billy acted like we were in on some big, crucial secret together / like we were in some sort of secret club together - like we could be on the same team” Billy had been trying to tell her from the beginning, they were both members of a club trying to navigate life with Neil Hargrove, bonded by shared experience. They were supposed to be on the same team too, victims of Neil, but Neil has made that impossible by using Max against Billy. “I could see all the ways he hated me” Neil isolates one from the other, Billy resents Max for getting him hurt, and Max resents Billy for rejecting her.

During most of the sections of the book that happen in Hawkins, Max continues to call Billy a “Monster”. However, never Neil. It’s not untrue that Billy has a mean streak, he can be cruel and heartless, most notably when he breaks the arm of one of Max’s friends. The only time this level of violence is seen in Hawkins is during the fight with Steve.

Both of these big outbursts of rage are built up by attacks from Neil. Note: Billy is still an asshole, these are not excuses for his actions only explanations.

Yes, there are two occasions in which Billy grabs hold of Max’s arm, but there is an argument to be made that this is just normal sibling behaviour. Have you never pushed or shoved your sibling before, or been on the receiving end of that physicality. It’s not always pleasant, but it’s not uncommon for siblings to get physical during disagreements. Max is also only distressed by this on the first occasion, “He caught me by the arm, and it wasn't the first time he’s ever touched me, but other times had always been to push me out of the way in the kitchen or flick me on the end of my nose. This time, his fingers closed hard around my elbow” - however the second and last time goes like this “He reached out fast and caught me by the wrist”. Those are the only times Billy is ever physical with Max.

Despite this, Billy is still the monster. “Billy was the closest thing to one that I had ever known - this was what it meant to live with the monster.” Monster singular. Billy is the most terrible thing living in the Hargrove home, not the man who beats his son.

Personally I find something off putting with Max ranking Billy as a worse monster than Neil. During the night at the byers she says "I understood now that Neil was in his head, and that meant he was just as dangerous as his father. Worse because Neil was cruel and frightening but he cared how things looked on the outside. Billy was crazy" Max isn't stupid, she knows Neil is a bad person, and maybe from Maxes point of view Billy is worse than Neil because Neil hasn't ever physically hurt her. But from a writer's point of view, to say that the victim is worse than the abuser? That is both dangerous and honestly disgusting. To call Billy crazy, and insinuate that he’s acting like a ‘bad victim’ because he doesn't pretend that everything is normal is so hurtful to victims of abuse who see themselves in Billy.

Continuing this thought, Max then goes on to compare Billy to a recently possessed Will. Which, first off, comparing abuse is never okay. But what Max says is almost worse, "Will had turned into something terrible and frightening, but even with the mind flayer working through him, he was trying not to let it. He'd almost gotten us killed, but you couldn't blame him because he didn't ask for this. He was trying so hard to stop it" Is the author trying to say that Billy should try harder to not let the abuse he has been experiencing at the hands of his father since before he was ten, affect him? Because if Brenna Yovanoff is using Will as a ‘good’ example of a victim of parental abuse, and using him to discount Billy's own experiences, then I’m sorry but who let this book go to print?

Obviously as a character Max choosing this comparison means very little to her because she doesn't know about Lonnie, but the writers do. Comparing Billy to will is a choice.

Billy and will have both experienced abuse from their fathers. Will is on one side of the spectrum of victims, quiet, timid and apologetic. Billy is on the opposite end of that spectrum, his experiences have hardened him, made him angry about what's happening to him. Billy isn't quiet, he’s an asshole and he has issues with authority, but the one thing that sets Billy and Will apart is the fact that Billy is still experiencing that abuse.

Will is a survivor, Billy isn't.

To imply that "you can't blame Will because he didn't ask for it", but it’s okay to blame Billy, does that mean we are supposed to think Billy is asking for it?

There are choices writers make in the information they reveal to their readers, the phrasing that is used and the comparisons they make. It speaks volumes that while Will is praised for his experiences and bravery with his dad, Billy is called a monster for acting out because of those same experiences.

I mean, tell me you're a writer who doesn't understand the complex reactions to abuse without telling me you only care about “good” reactions to abuse.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #runaway max #stranger things book #neil hargrove #abuse mention #stranger things meta #I have a lot of feelings about the way Billys abuse is portrayed and mostly forgotten about in the show #runaway max makes me physically sick with how it describes billy and max's indifferance to Billys abuse #I love when shows have no idea what theyre talking about when it comes to the spectrum of abuse #nebraska speaks

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lassieposting · 2 months

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I think the most important think to as qustions about us how we got the first letter and tape to begin with,someone had to have wrote it and sent it in the mail and had have to known the protagonist address,but maybe I'm just overthinking it ,its just a way to start the game, btw I think the only info about the protagonist or the player from the developers is their height 5'10 - 6' idk how canon it is ?

Do you think poppy is "evil" ?

Hmm...no, I don't think Poppy is evil.

I think Poppy is traumatized and misguided, with quite a naive outlook on morality, and her actions are guided by that and her limited experience of the world and humanity for the past like, fifty years.

Ultimately, both Poppy and the Prototype want the same thing - to put a stop to the atrocities committed by Playtime Co. They agree on that. But they're implied to have had vastly different experiences with Playtime, and that is very relevant to how they approach their shared cause.

It's worth noting here that these two have, potentially, been trapped in that facility for half a century or more. The word prototype suggests that he was the very first test subject to survive having his brain and nervous system grafted to a constructed, partially organic body. If his name is correct, he should predate Poppy. He is the template they used to create and refine the process to make her. She is the "perfect" version of him, the finished product. He is a rougher, less polished first draft.

And Poppy was created in 1950. Since you can't have a living doll walking around and living her life in the outside world, that means she's been inside the factory for 55 years, 10 years of which she spent locked in a case. And if the Prototype is rightly-named, he's been there even longer.

And look at how different their situations are:

Attitude Towards Procedure

In Poppy's cut dialogue from the end of Chapter 2, she explains to the Player that:

"Terrible things have happened, and I am the cause. Being able to exist as a doll, it has killed so many people."

Her choice of words here is interesting, because it implies that there's a fundamental difference between Poppy and the other Bigger Bodies experiments. Specifically, it implies that Poppy was a willing test subject. She uses positive phrasing to describe her experience. Being able to is a phrase that suggests that existing as a doll is a desirable state. She could have said existing as a doll. She could have said making me a doll. She could have said turning me into a doll. All of those are negative phrases I'd expect from one of the unwilling test subjects. But Poppy uses being able to, and I think that's significant. I think what we have here is someone who has a more positive, favourable view of her current existence than the others - someone who sees toyhood as either a second chance at life, or a second chance at childhood.

The Prototype, on the other hand, is strongly implied to not be a willing volunteer - quite the opposite. He's highly aggressive towards Playtime staff. He's uncooperative with Playtime scientists. He's actively trying to escape the facility in the backstory. That is not the behaviour of someone who consented to his procedure.

Containment & Care

When we first find Poppy, we see that her living situation is actually pretty good.

Like. Yes. She's locked in a case, ripping off Annabelle like her little heart depends on it, but we know that's not where the Playtime staff kept her - she explicitly attributes that to the Prototype:

"He's the reason I was trapped in that god-awful case for so long."

(We can even make an educated guess as to when this happened and why. Poppy was in the case during the Hour of Joy - she remembers hearing it all happen, but not participating. Given that she was firmly opposed to the idea, it's likely that Prototype sealed her away ahead of time to make sure she wasn't able to interfere. It was a tactical manoeuvre, so it would've happened shortly before the Hour began, so that no staff had time to discover her and remove her from the case.)

So anyway. Ignore the case. Look at everything else.

We find Poppy in a section of the factory that's been refitted to look like a house, in what looks like a child's playroom, full of toys, cushions and furniture. If this is where Poppy has been living all those years, that suggests she's well-cared for, well-treated, and kept mostly happy by the company - we know, of course, that she wasn't entirely spared from the trauma; her maintenance tape is pretty horrific. But she's definitely been treated more kindly - or at least kept more comfortable - than some of the other experiments, and that's reflected in her feelings on the Hour of Joy: she's seen humanity in the Playtime employees who've interacted with her, so she sympathises with the terrified workers.

(Which? Actually makes me wonder if there was a reason none of the other experiments ever came to let her out in the ten years between then and the beginning of the game. Poppy's perspective is very different to that of most of the toys who were created from frightened, imprisoned children, experimented on against their will, and it would make sense for them to feel resentful or angry about it. Mommy Long Legs is mocking and lowkey aggressive towards her, and her avoidance of CatNap suggests he would be, too. Maybe her opposition to the idea of the Hour of Joy made her unpopular with them. Though she seems to have made up/never fallen out with Kissy Missy, at least.)

This is a huge contrast with the Prototype, whose entire experience with Playtime is one big human rights violation. He's kept in a prison cell in the labs under 24/7 surveillance, in almost complete isolation - CatNap, who's allowed to socialise with him, isn't created until the 90s, and the only other time we see or hear of anyone interacting with Prototype is in his regular sessions with Harley Sawyer, who spends that time coldly torturing him in the name of science. And that's given him a very different perspective - that nothing will change at Playtime without drastic and violent rebellion on the part of the experiments. Playtime doesn't care about their experiments' quality of life. They don't care about their feelings. They know that the toys have no rights, that they can't safely leave the factory, and that post-transformation, they have very little recourse against their tormentors. He knows that he'll spend the rest of his life a slave unless he's willing to kill.

(The other experiments also seem to have fallen closer to Prototype's end of the containment spectrum than Poppy's. There's a literal dungeon beneath the playhouse, with enough cells for each of the Bigger Bodies Smiling Critters. We know CatNap was locked away in what is explicitly described by a Playtime worker as a prison, when he's not doing his duties in Playcare, and also segregated from the other Critters - his cell is outside their dungeon. Playtime's idea of "protective custody" for Thomas Clark - now in the body of a Bron toy - was an empty padded cell with no company or stimulation, and he was a loyal employee who'd dedicated like 40 years of his life to the company. When Thomas was placed in with the other experiments, it appeared that they were all thrown into a "genpop" situation together in a big room. Like, Poppy is the only toy getting special treatment, accommodation and enrichment here. It's no wonder almost nobody stood with her against Prototype - he's "one of us", and she would've seemed like "one of them".)

The vibe I get is that like. Both of them are activists, of a sort. But Poppy, before the Hour of Joy, is the "middle-class white woman" moderate sort of activist. She will write a strongly-worded letter of protest to her local Head of Innovation. She will wave a colourful poster at a peaceful rally. She thinks that compromise, diplomacy and patience are the ways to solve her chosen cause. And she can afford to wait for compromise, diplomacy and patience to work, because while she is affected by the oppression she's protesting, it's a bearable situation for her. She has parts of life she enjoys. She has reasons to keep living. Whereas Prototype is a "frontline" kind of activist who's willing to lock horns with riot police in the street armed with only a brick and a smashed bottle, because he's part of the group whose lives have become so unbearable under the oppression that they have nothing left to lose.

Neither is evil. Neither is undeserving of empathy or understanding. Neither is morally beyond reproach. Both their viewpoints have been shaped by experience - Poppy's by her "privilege" (in comparison to the other experiments), Prototype's by his abuse. They're not even truly on opposing sides. The difference between them is simply a matter of degrees on spectrums. Patience/desperation. Optimism/cynicism. Idealism/realism. Hopefulness/hopelessness.

And that's what's most tragic tbh. Poppy believes Prototype is just as evil as Playtime, not realising just how easily she could have been him, or become him, had she been treated the same way he was.

(As to how we got the letter...honestly, I'm not sure. The childish writing suggests Poppy wrote it, but she couldn't possibly have walked it to a post box. Maybe Prototype's mind control reaches far enough to have a postperson collect it from outside the factory's front door? For that to be the case, Prototype and Poppy would need to be working together, but I do have a few disjointed thoughts about how that could turn out to be the case.)

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime meta #poppy playtime headcanons #the prototype #experiment 1006

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sapphicromanoffxo · 8 months

Text

Lucky Ones | iii. Testing the waters

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 2697

Warnings: Gossiping, Dirty Talking, Degradation, Lost of Virginity, Oral sex, Fingering, Praise kink

Summary: Wanda spends her summer break back in the company and heard some slight gossips about Natasha. This caused for Wanda to ask questions to the older woman.

»»-----------► Series Masterlist

The day was a whirlwind of chaos, with orders buzzing in every minute, tasks being tackled from left to right, and an atmosphere of palpable tension settling over the team. The groundbreaking ceremony had been rescheduled, casting a looming deadline of less than two months to finalise every plan and submit the necessary reports.

"God, I need a second cup of coffee. I'm on the brink of my sanity with all these excel sheets!" Sharon, Natasha's junior engineer, exclaimed with theatrical exasperation. "I have no idea how we'll manage to meet our target deadlines with these requests piling up," she added.

"I know exactly what you mean. These never-ending numbers and charts are giving me a pounding headache," Maria chimed in, empathising with Sharon's sentiments.

Wanda, ever the silent observer, chose to keep her inner thoughts to herself. Her reserved nature and preference for handling things smoothly guided her decision to listen rather than voice her concerns in the midst of the chaos.

"Wanda, you seem to be pulled in so many directions by Natasha. How are you managing with all of this?" Sharon inquired curiously, attempting to gauge Wanda's thoughts on the matter.

"It's undeniably stressful, but I don't have much choice except to follow her demands and try to get everything done as quickly as possible," Wanda replied candidly.

"Natasha usually has reasonable demands, but this project is on a whole different level. I can see how everyone is on edge whenever she's not satisfied with the results. She nearly fired Jennifer because of her incorrect calculations," Sharon shared with the two other ladies, recounting a recent mishap involving their colleague.

"Romanoff intimidates me to no end, to be honest. I'd crumble under her scrutiny. I couldn't handle it," Maria admitted.

As Wanda absorbed all this information about Natasha's management style and its impact on the team, it became clear that Natasha could be quite demanding when her expectations weren't met.

"Hey, Wanda, do you think that if Natasha had a partner, it might soften her up a bit?" Sharon asked mischievously, introducing a playful notion into the conversation.

Wanda found herself unsure of how to react to Sharon's probing question. She was uncomfortable with the topic, but before she could voice her feelings, Maria interjected, "Hush, Sharon. You're being too nosy!"

Sharon, undeterred, continued, "What? Aren't you curious? In the two years I've been working here, I've never once heard that she's dating anybody. For the record, there are also no known past lovers. How does she do it? She's undeniably attractive, anyone with eyes can see that."

Maria responded with a hint of skepticism, "I can't tell if you're genuinely curious because you admire her looks and want to commend her for that, or if you're just fixated on our boss's seemingly non existent love life."

"Whoever she dates must be incredibly lucky," Sharon said dreamily.

Wanda remained silently stunned in her seat, her mind racing with questions. Natasha's extreme privacy had her employees speculating about her romantic life. It also made Wanda contemplate her own situation. Did Natasha have past lovers who were once in the same position as her? Were they offered all the luxuries and responsibilities she currently enjoyed? Her thoughts began to spiral, bordering on overthinking.

"Don't worry about us, Wanda. We're just gossiping to take a break from this exhausting workload," Maria reassured her with a friendly smile.

Wanda simply nodded in acknowledgment and returned to her ongoing task. The hum of activity continued around her as she focused on her work.

Natasha sat in their house, nursing a glass of whiskey, and observed Wanda with a thoughtful gaze. She sensed something was on the younger woman's mind and decided to initiate a conversation.

"How was your day, sweetheart? I apologise for not being able to talk much during the day, there was so much to be done," Natasha inquired, her tone carrying a hint of genuine concern.

Wanda replied, "It's alright. I assisted Sharon and Maria while also working on the report you requested for today."

With a contemplative hum, Natasha finished the last drops of her whiskey, setting the glass aside. Wanda mustered the courage to broach a more personal topic.

"Natasha, there are some things I'm curious about, but I'm not sure if you'd be open to discussing them," she began tentatively.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. "Well, that would depend on what you're curious about," she replied with a hint of intrigue.

Wanda proceeded cautiously, "I'm just curious about how you achieved such remarkable success at a young age. Becoming the CEO of M&A Engineering Corporation at 29 must have been an incredible milestone. It seems like you've been quite fortunate."

Natasha almost bristled at the word fortunate but her reaction remained guarded. "My father recognised my potential, and we started from there. I had to prove my worth, and it eventually led to me securing the position," she replied carefully, without revealing any key information about herself.

Wanda complimented her sincerely, "I truly admire your dedication and strength. Balancing work and studies is a challenging feat, and from what I've seen, you've excelled at it." Her words held a note of admiration and respect for Natasha's achievements.

"You'll reach great heights too, Wanda. I can see how you're building yourself up, and I'm confident you have a bright future ahead," Natasha replied, sharing her genuine belief in Wanda's potential.

"I have to thank you for that, I'm not sure I would have been able to finish my last semester without your support," Wanda expressed her gratitude.

Natasha responded, "I just did what needed to be done."

Curiosity still lingered in Wanda's mind, and she ventured further, "If you don't mind, can I ask more questions?"

Natasha, curious about the direction of the conversation, simply asked, "What's on your mind?"

Wanda inquired with great curiosity, "What were you like before you became a successful engineer? I mean, with your looks, I can imagine people falling at your feet."

Natasha, anticipating where the line of questioning is headed, decided to provide a short and guarded response, "I followed a strict path, focusing on my studies and career. I didn't have time for relationships. I was determined to complete my degree, pursued my master's, and dedicated myself to my work at my father's company." She chose to keep her personal life private, as she often did, leaving Wanda to wonder even more.

"Nothing at all? Not even before I came into the picture?" Wanda pressed on, seemingly oblivious to the gears turning in Natasha's head.

Natasha maintained her calm demeanour as she responded, "No, I never entertained the idea of committing to another person. It seemed like a lot of work."

Wanda's insecurity crept into her tone as she asked, "So, what changed then?"

Natasha met Wanda's gaze and replied with a touch of vulnerability, "I couldn't resist the urge to learn more about you. You could say that I was genuinely intrigued by you." There was a softness in Natasha's eyes that hinted at mischief.

"I would like to test some of my theories," Natasha said, skillfully steering the conversation away from any further probing questions Wanda might have.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Wanda inquired, intrigued by what Natasha has in mind.

"Allow me to show you," Natasha stood up gracefully and gestured for Wanda to follow her into the bedroom. As they entered the room, Natasha gently placed her hand on Wanda's waist, a subtle but electric touch that made Wanda's heart race.

In the dimly lit bedroom, they both stood beside the bed, Wanda facing it while Natasha stood behind her.

Natasha couldn't help but comment, "You always smell so good, Wanda." She peppered delicate kisses along Wanda's neck, her hands tracing teasing patterns on the hem of Wanda's nightgown, softly grazing her thighs.

Wanda's only response was a soft bite on her lip. She felt a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation with whatever is about to happen between them. Her ass is pressed on Natasha's front and the older woman starts groping Wanda's breast.

"I find these incredibly captivating," Natasha purred sensually, her palm aggressively kneading Wanda's breasts. The atmosphere was charged with desire and intimacy which is almost suffocating.

"Natty, please."

"What do you want, detka?"

Wanda whimpered upon hearing Natasha's husky voice in her ear. This is escalating to a new level and Wanda internally shaking.

"Use your words, Wanda. I'd like to hear what you want."

Wanda's voice quivered as she confessed, "I want you to touch me everywhere and take me however you desire!" Her desperation was evident in her tone, a reflection of the burning desire that Natasha had ignited within her.

A sly grin curled on Natasha's lips, and she leaned in closer, her ego delighting in Wanda's vulnerability. "I like the sound of that. Just so you know, I don't like being gentle."

Wanda's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. She had imagined their first time together to be soft and tender, but Natasha's unpredictable nature took things in a thrillingly different direction.

"Get on the bed. I want your ass up in the air."

Wanda hastily obeyed, climbing onto the bed and assuming the position Natasha had requested. This position exposed her vulnerable ass and Wanda is feeling a bit scared now on what Natasha had in mind.

“I have been observing you for too long now, Wanda. I do think that you deserve a reward for being my good girl. Don’t you agree?” Natasha taunts the younger woman while softly caressing her ass. “Answer me when I am speaking to you, little girl!” That earned a hard slap in Wanda’s ass.

“Yes! I have been a good girl and I need to be rewarded, please.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.You make sure to remember your manners or you’ll be punished instead.” Natasha started pushing Wanda’s nightgown wherein her back is now also exposed.

“Natasha…”

“Yes, Wanda? Feeling impatient? You were able to wait for all these months. A couple of minutes won’t do you any harm.” Natasha said with a sinister voice.

Wanda whimpered again and didn't want to upset the older woman.

“Would you show how good you are if you take whatever it is that I'll be giving you?”

“Yes, Natasha.”

“Hmm. From now on, call me miss whenever I’m about to fuck you senseles. Is that understood?” Natasha emphasised her question with another slap on Wanda's ass.

“Yes, Miss! I understand.”

“Good girl.”

Nastasha started peperring hot kisses on Wanda’s back. Wanting to kiss every part of her Wanda and made sure to leave mark in order for her to fully claim Wanda as hers. Her hand drifted down to Wanda’s pussy and was delighted to find her core already wet.

“Oh my. I haven’t even properly touched you and you are dripping for me, baby. What a slut you are.”

Wanda’s head is spinning, Natasha’s words are doing a number on her and she’s unconsciously heading to a subspace, something that is an uncharted territory for her.

“Please, Miss…hmp!” Wanda whimpered once again as Natasha started circling her clit.

“Does that feel good, baby? Would you like more? I bet your pussy will be able to take 3 fingers instantly.

That sent a blaring alarm sound in Wanda’s mind. She’s been so desperate for Natasha’s attention and touch that she has forgotten to tell her that she’s a virgin.

“Nata- Miss. I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, pretty girl?” Natsha temporarily stops her attempts to tether Wanda on edge.

“Uhmm.. I - I’m a.. I have never done this before.”

Natasha wants to be shocked by Wanda’s revelation but it feeds her ego even more knowing that she's about to take Wanda's innocence. “Does that mean that you want me to be gentle?”

“No, I can take it. Just take it slowly, please.” Wanda is pleading that her request would somehow be granted by Natasha.

“Very well. Lay on your back, spread your legs wide for me.”

Wanda followed her order again and did what she was told. Natasha was very ecstatic with how eager Wanda wants to please her. It drives her crazy and does not want to prolong this anymore.

"Please, Wanda, if you ever feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, don't hesitate to tell me," Natasha said earnestly, her voice laced with a caring concern. "I want you to know that your comfort and consent are my top priorities. But," she added with a playful glint in her eye, "I do hope you won't be asking me to stop."

Natsha descended her mouth on Wanda’s awaiting core and dived right in her aching clit. Wanda moaned in surprise feeling Natasha’s warm mouth on her. Wanda’s hands claw on the bedsheet to somehow ground her as she’s feeling her soul leave her body with all the pleasure that Natasha is giving her.

“Miss, ahhh.. You feel so good —hmf! Natasha!” Wanda exclaimed as Natasha started sucking her clit. Natasha is very thrilled with all the noises that Wanda has been making. The soft moans that turned into growls as Wanda is nearing her orgasm. The older woman decided to penetrate Wanda with her left middle finger, hoping to get a reaction out of her.

“Miss miss miss!” Wanda is babbling her incoherent thoughts as she’s feeling all the sensations that she thought she’d never feel from anyone. It made Wanda feel the pleasure mixed with pain but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Natasha to stop. All she wants is for this to never end. Her legs clamped on each side of Natasha’s head and it earned her a slap on her right breast.

“Keep your legs open or I will stop.” Natasha warned her to keep her legs in place.

“I’m sorry, please don’t stop. I need you!”

Natasha continued where she left off. Wanda is absolutely drenched. She has never tasted anything so addicting and she could stay here as long as she wants. She then again added another finger, pulling in and out in a gentle phase. Wanda was once again elevated to a new height of pleasure which made her scream with so much passion.

“Oh my god, Miss. Please! I need more!”

Ofcourse, Natasha could not deny her pleas and started to thrust her two fingers with so much force making Wanda’s eyes roll back. Her mouth is now agape and her throat is now dry from all of the screams and moans that she’s been making in the past minutes

Natasha is unmerciful with her fingers with the combination of her talented tongue, this sent Wanda into her orgasm without warning, hitting her like a tidal wave. Pleasure coming down on her leaving her dazed in fulfilment.

Wanda is sure that stars are dancing around her eyes for a minute before she is able to catch her breath.

"Are you feeling better now, Wanda?" Natasha inquired, her voice tender and filled with genuine concern. She continued to massage both of Wanda's thighs, which had gone limp in the aftermath of their intense moment. "You did so good for me, baby. I'm proud of you." Natasha further added.

Wanda took a deep, steadying breath as she met Natasha's caring gaze. The intimate connection they had just shared left her feeling vulnerable, but also incredibly content. "Yes," she replied softly, her voice a mixture of satisfaction and affection. "I feel more than alright, Natasha. I feel amazing. Thank you."

"That's reassuring," Natasha whispered, her fingers gently caressing Wanda's thighs as they lay together in the afterglow. She leaned in to place a tender kiss on Wanda's lips, savouring the lingering taste of their shared passion. "But remember, my dear, we have so much more to discover and explore together. This is merely the beginning of what I have in mind."

Wanda's eyes sparkled with a mixture of anticipation and affection as she gazed into Natasha's deep, knowing eyes. "I can't wait to see what you have in store, Natasha," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity and curiosity.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha x wanda #marvel #wandanat fanfiction #wlw #sapphics unite

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strangermarvelss · 1 year

Text

professor munson’s guide to passing the class- e.m (pt 5)

Pairing: Professor!Eddie Munson x Student!AFAB!Female!Reader

Summary: valentines day doesn’t suck as bad as it usually does

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI (pussy eatting yum, fingering, squirting, praise kink brrrr), fluff, cheesy valentines shenanigans, eddie is a sweetheart, feelings begin circulating

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: here is part 5 of my professor eddie series! i decided i needed to write to help myself feel better and i'm glad i did so. ty for the patience and i love you all :) enjoy! -sava

A delectable aroma pulls your attention away from morning studies, sniffing the air like a bloodhound locking in on a trained scent. Pushing yourself away from your desk, you rise from your position in and walk towards your bedroom door. Peaking your head out, you look out to see Nadia setting down a tray of freshly made snickerdoodles, making your mouth water at the sight. Tip toeing further into the kitchen, you sneak up behind her and reach towards the hot baking sheet, before you feel her hand smack it away, turning to you with an evil look.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She asks, quirking a brow.

“Sampling the goods, what does it look like?” You tease, reaching back towards the yummy cookies before having your hand smacked away once more. You feign hurt, letting out a loud gasp as you tend to your wounded hand, making Nadia giggle as she puts another sheet in the oven. “I assume these are for a special occasion and not for just having around the house. You know, since you won’t let me take one.”

“That’s right! They’re for my Valentine’s plans with Emilia tonight,” she announces, turning away from you and fanning the cookies to try and cool them faster. Wiggling your eyebrows, you walk around to get a better angle of her face as she works, lifting your brow at her.

“And what do you two have in store tonight for you to need this many cookies?”

“Oh hush, you. Do you really think I'd make cookies and not save you some?" She tisks, shaking her head as you chuckle. "We're just having dinner here and we rented a movie to watch after. Bought a bunch of candles and rose petals so I’m going all out,” she reveals, a smile resting on her features.

“It’s no trip to the mountains like last year, but this does sound very fun,” you tell her.

“Yeah, I think it will be. Definitely the cheaper option as well, since we're trying to save for our own place after we graduate. But we were kind of hoping to have the apartment alone tonight, if you don’t mind…”

You give her a look for a moment. Part of you thought it was silly for her to even have to mention that. Sure, you weren’t in a relationship and no one really wants to go out on a first date on Valentine’s day, but you still respected that they were a couple and were entitled to privacy every now and then. Nadia paid half the rent so she should be able to have some time alone when need be, you could get behind that.

“Of course! I’m sure I can find something to do,” you say, taking a step back and exiting the kitchen. You plop down on the couch, trying to think of activities that you could participate in by yourself without looking lonely.

“I know what you could do. You could go out with Derek,” she suggests.

You raise up from your position on the couch, eyes wide as your mouth drops a little while looking at her. Derek? Did she really just suggest you going out with Derek? Between this, and your moment at the bar not long ago, you were starting to sense something was made known to every one but you. Even on the first day of the new semester, she had asked if it was Derek you slept with and not Eddie, which you didn’t think much of in the moment. But now, with multiple different comments and situations being thrown your way, you were getting suspicious.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh come on, you know he’s liked you for a while now, right?” Nadia asks, turning back to you and resting a hand on her hip. You scoff, shaking your head as you turn away from her, disbelief making its way throughout your body. “It’s true! I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

“I mean, I’ve been noticing something a little more recently, but like, I don’t know...I feel like it'd just be weird, ya know? We're such good friends and feelings could just get in the way of that. Doesn't matter anyway, I'm-" you stop yourself for a moment, making Nadia turn back to you with a raised brow. Shooting her a coy smile, you think quick of how to get out of this semi-sticky situation. "I’m gonna go get ready for class, promised someone I'd meet up with them early to study for the big midterm coming in a couple weeks,” you say, jumping up from the couch and all but running into your bedroom. Shutting the door, you press your back to the door, mind still reeling from the interaction a bit.

Of course you weren’t going to take her up on her offer. Of all the years you’ve known Derek, you weren’t sure why everyone, including the man in question, was waiting to push this until your very last semester of college. Plus, with the talk with Eddie that was still fresh on your mind, that was your focus for right now. He was your focus, along with graduating and crossing the finish line of such a big milestone. Not to mention the connection you feel with Eddie is greater than Derek, even with knowing him for a shorter amount of time compared to Derek.

Shaking out of the weird mood, you walk over to your closet, sifting over your array of clothes and landing on a cute but simple light pink dress to throw on. Just because you didn’t have a date for Valentine’s, doesn’t mean you couldn’t be festive.

—————————————————————————————————————

“And that’s why pushing the boundaries in music can validate those who didn’t have the proper outlet before and is an important aspect of broadening your horizons when researching new genres to experience,” Eddie says to the class, pacing a bit at the front of the lecture hall. Checking his watch, he slaps his hands together, rubbing the flesh against the other as he looks around the room. “I think I’ll be nice and let you all off early, to do God knows what for this capitalist holiday. But if you don’t have your homework done for next class, you lose 10 points, I guarantee it.”

Your classmates waste no time collecting their things and rushing out of the classroom, muttering “thank yous” they don’t mean before cheering a bit when entering the hallway of the current academic building. Chuckling to yourself, you pack your bag and stand from your position, smoothing out the skirt of your dress before walking towards the exit.

“Miss Y/L/N? May I speak with you in my office for a moment?” Eddie asks, popping his head out from behind the threshold of his office. Laughing a bit more, you make your way over to his office, shutting the door behind you before leaning against it.

“Yes, professor?” You ask, sending him an innocent look. You watch his face falter, a hint of lust swimming around in his chocolate brown eyes. Letting out a small growl, he walks closer to you, closing the space inch by inch until he’s less than an arm’s length away from you.

“You know what you calling me that does to me,” he states, his voice having dropped an octave. You smirk, taking your bottom lip between your front teeth as you bat your lashes at him.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it. To be fair, you were the one being formal as well, despite there being no one else within ear shot,” you defend, holding your hands up in surrender. He chuckles, looking to the ground before allowing his eyes to trail over your body.

“Well I just wanted to call you in here to say you look really nice today,” he admits.

“Well thank you. Wanted to be festive for the 'capitalist holiday', as you put it.”

“Does that mean you have a date tonight?”

Giving him a knowing look, you can tell he regrets asking the question as soon as he finishing speaking, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose just a tad. Even after your talk last week, he was still having insecure thoughts about not just your friend, but any guy on campus. He tried to not let the thought of you doing better than him get to his head, especially with you reassuring him that you only had eyes for him at the moment, but sometimes it gets the best of him.

“You know I’m not seeing anybody else, we talked about this last week,” you finally respond. He nods.

“Right, sorry. Just sort of…came out. In that case, would you want…would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” He asks, playing with the rings situated on his fingers. Heat creeps up your neck and settles on the apples of your cheeks, a sudden rush of shyness flooding your system as you match his motions, looking to the floor as an attempt to try and collect yourself.

“I’d love to. Is there anywhere you had in mind?” You question, looking back up just in time to see a happily shocked expression planted on his face.

“Thought I’d attempt at cooking for you again. This time sticking to a recipe that has less of a chance in blowing up in my face,” he jokes, making you belly laugh. You nod, turning away from him and opening the door. “Wait!”

Whipping your head around, you see Eddie fumbling around on his desk before grabbing hold of the stem to the most beautiful rose you’ve ever seen. The deep red hue highlighted your dress perfectly, making you blush once more. He extends the flower to you when he comes back, looking at you with careful eyes.

“I wasn’t sure if you were into roses, but I just thought since they’re like the unofficial flower of Valentine’s Day, I would just get it. Sorry it’s only one flower though, the people at the closest florist shop were practically trying to rob me with the cost of a whole bouquet.”

Taking the flower, you bring it up to your nose, taking in the scent carefully. Smiling, you look at him with pure admiration, thankful for the thoughtful gesture extended to you. “For someone who seems to hate the holiday, you sure know how to make it special for a lady like myself.”

He laughs at your slight jab, kicking his foot as he slings his messenger bag around his body, then quickly plunging his hands into his pockets. You watch his cheeks turn a slight tint of pink, his smile as wide as his eyes as he looks to the floor in bashfulness.

"Believe me, you deserve it." He tells you before extending a hand and ushering you out of his office. Taking the hint, you walk out of the room, turning to wait for him as you watch him lock the door. He sends you a smile when he comes back, leaning closer to your figure.

“Meet me at mine. You want to leave first or do you want me to?” He whispers, breath hot on your neck. You lean close to his own ear, making sure to copy his motions.

“I can leave first. I’ll see you soon.”

The drive to Eddie’s didn’t take long, having gotten in the routine of driving over to the apartment building at least twice a week over the past few weeks. Pulling into an empty spot, you jam out to some music on the radio as you wait for Eddie to arrive. You know he doesn’t usually waiting that long after you leave before taking off as well, so you’d really just be waiting a few moments.

Taking hold of the rose that rests next to your backpack in your passenger seat, you can’t help but hold the flower up to your nose once more and take in the fresh scent. Being wooed like this was such a foreign concept to you, not having gone through the ups and downs that is actually dating and navigating a more-than-sex relationship since high school. Maybe it was something you could find yourself getting used to.

Pulling up next to you, Eddie shuts his car door and waves at you through the window, jumping out of your little makeshift cloud nine you found yourself vibing in. Shutting the engine off, you lock the door as you hold the rose in your other hand, walking behind the older man as you enter the lobby of his apartment building.

Walking through his front door, you notice a small table already set up with a plastic white table cloth, plates and utensils resting in front of their respective places in front of two chairs facing one another, with a small vase sitting placed in the middle, perfect for the rose situated in your hand. You turn to him, a soft grin resting on your features as he does the same.

“You…” you start, walking closer to him and closing the small gap between you. “Are so corny.”

He bursts into a fit of laughter, doubling over for a moment as he tries to collect himself. Standing back up, he grazes your cheek with his hand, rubbing his calloused thumb into the sensitive skin. ��I know you like it though.”

“I do. I really do,” you tell him, leaning closer to his figure. Soft lips make contact with your own, moving against them with fever. You slide your hands against his chest, pressing the rose against him as you deepen the kiss. His hands find purchase on your hips, tugging you closer as your mouths danced together in perfect sync.

Warmth spreads throughout your chest as you stand there in his arms. Breathing in the smell of his cheap cologne and stale cigarettes, you can't help but become aroused at his touch. Everything about Eddie was intoxicating to you, drunk on the taste of his lips in an instant. Yet you still craved more of him, wanting every single ounce he was willing to give you.

He flips you around, pressing your body to the door as the intensity deeps your kiss, becoming all tongue and teeth in a matter of minutes. You drop the flower to the floor and run your fingers through his tied up hair, pulling at the elastic band holding it together and successful untaming his gorgeous mane of brown wavy locks. You weave your fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots which causes Eddie to emit a low growl deep from his throat. He looks up to you, eyes dark with lust once more just as they were in his office, hungry for a taste of something a little less PG.

He sinks to his knees, pressing his lips to your inner thigh and kissing his way down your exposes legs, before working his way back up and planting himself underneath the skirt of your dress. He flips it up, smirking up at you as his hands trail along the material of your cotton pink panties you wore to match for the special day. “Think I might need a little snack before we get dinner started tonight.”

You’re about to speak to question him, but they are quickly answered when he shoves your panties down to your ankles, helping you slide your feet out of them as your pussy makes contact with the cool air of the apartment. You’re almost embarrassed by how wet you’ve become thanks to your heavy makeout session and the assertiveness Eddie has shown by yanking your panties down, feeling the slick just drip down the sides of your lips and begin trailing down your leg just a bit.

He brings your right leg over his shoulder, spreading you wider to get a better look at your bare, uncovered pussy. He brings a finger up, tracing your inner thigh and gather the wetness that has made its way down already. Bringing the finger up to his lip, you let out a long and low whine as you watch him lick from the base of his finger all the way to the tip, sighing at the taste of you dancing on his tastebuds.

“Fuck sweetheart, almost forgot how good you taste. ’S like nectar baby, so sweet and delicious,” he lets out, bringing his hand back down under your dress. His cool fingers trace over your heat, lighting grazing over your puffy lips and toying with the slick that coats it. He presses more kisses to your thighs, inching dangerously close to your wanton cunt as you grip the doorknob for dear life.

“Eds, quit teasing me.”

“You gotta tell me what you want darlin’. Can’t read your mind,” he teases, sending a smirk your way. You throw your head back against the door in frustration, more whines escaping your lips.

“Please sir. Just want your mouth on me,” you beg.

“Where do you want my mouth, princess?” He asks, raising his eyebrows as he feigns innocence.

“On my pussy, Eddie! Please, need your mouth on my fucking cunt!”

“Good girl,” he tells you, gently petting your thigh before diving in. He sticks his tongue out, licking broad stripe from your dripping hole to the top of your clit as you moan out in pleasure. Shocks are sent throughout your entire body as you finally feel his mouth give you the attention you’ve been desperately seeking since setting eyes on the table set up in his living room. Your free hand finds its way to his hair, carding your fingers in his locks once more and gripping them as tight as you are on the doorknob of his front door.

He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, swirling around the hardened numb as he slurps up the delicious nectar coming from you. His fingertips dance around your opening, teasing you ever so slightly and sending your nerves into overdrive as you crave the feeling of his thick digits stretching you open.

Spreading your lips, he gains better access to your sweet button, darting his tongue out in small but fast strides as whimpers and whines continue to fall off your tongue. Your grip on Eddie’s hair is tight, surprised you haven’t yanked a good bit out by now as you’re overcome with euphoria. Tingles cascading throughout your system and sending relaxation throughout every muscle in your body.

“Want your fingers too Eds. Please baby,” you whine, tugging his head up to look at you. He nods, mouth still wrapped around your clit and suckling the pert nub. Bringing his hands back to your outer lips, he traces around and sends jolts of bliss up your spine, before pushing a finger inside your cunt finally.

You’re nearly screaming when he begins to set a pace with his finger, feeling the extremity thrust in and out of you quickly, switching from sucking your clit to fast kitten licks every now and then to change things up. You begin to buck your hips into his face as fire fills your belly, feeling the familiar tightness forming as he continues to pleasure you with his mouth and fingers, growing addicted to the feeling.

Eddie pulls away, breathless as he worms another finger inside you, curling the digits upwards and pressing against the spongey spot inside that drive you absolutely wild. Your grip becomes even tighter than before, unable to form coherent words as you little out little whimpers and moans. Who could’ve thought such intense pleasure could hinder your ability to think normally.

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers baby. Think you’re getting close? You gonna cum all over my face baby?” He questions in a mocking tone. You nod rapidly before throwing your head back again, with Eddie’s lips going back to suckle your clit. The knot inside you continues to build, feelings yourself teetering over the edge of the cliff as he continues to please you.

“M-m gonna cum,” you whisper, shoulders tensing as you feel yourself beginning to let go. Eddie hums around you, the vibrations sending you over the edge as your climax washes over you. Wetness gushes from you, coating your thighs and Eddie’s face as you scream out, his name a chant on your tongue as you hump his face to ride out your bliss.

You hear a slight dripping sound fill the now quiet room, along with your heavy breathing. You let out a deep breath, looking down at Eddie, seeing the bottom half of his face shine with your arousal as he flashes you a big smile. You look at the puddle under you, feeling yourself grow hot in embarrassment and covering yourself in an unsuccessful attempt to hide.

Eddie stands, taking your hands away from your face and rubbing your cheek with his thumb like before. He presses a kiss to your forehead, looking down at you with soft eyes and he holds you close.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart. Lets get some food in our bellies before we get to the main act, shall we?”

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veeluvss · 11 months

Text

My Girl, Lily Prentiss (2)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"Lily Addams," Emily said, clicking the remote. The entire team sat around the round table, concern clear in their faces and expressions. Prentiss could hardly get her words out. Lily was gone. Gone. "Seventeen," Emily said again, clicking on another picture of her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her, seeing her all grown up. Her smile hadn't changed one bit. The apples of her cheeks kept the pink colour and her eyes still gleamed with happy tears in the situation. Her hair, a mousey brown now, was beautifully waved over her shoulders. Emily could see she kept active, knowing she loved the outdoors. Being deprived of it for so long meant Lily would do anything to be outside all the time. "Prentiss," Morgan said, voice breaking the silence. Emily nodded, tearing her eyes away from the picture. "Yes, of course." She mumbled, shaking her head. "Lily Addams, seventeen. Her parents came to me this morning to report her missing. She's been gone two days, no word, no sign, nothing. We need to hit the ground running and find out what happened." Emily knew she was making no sense and the team were only growing more and more worried. "Emily, what's going on?" JJ asked, sitting up in her chair. There was more silence as Emily tried to find the words.

"She was in protective custody," Emily whispered, taking a seat. She couldn't trust her legs to hold her weight. "Her parents, they, they were con artists. I went undercover to catch them. Lily - she was their daughter. They exploited her, kept her locked up, and hidden and used her whenever they could. They'd lure these women in and use them, rape them, do all sorts and Lily - she would love them with her whole innocent self because she had no idea what they were doing to them. They'd look after her, watch her, care for her. I did too. "I've always had her on my mind, she was like mine. My little girl in the darkest times. She was far too innocent for everything that happened to her," Emily explained. "I've stayed close by to her, following her family around the world. They knew. Every year, I'd send Lily a birthday and Christmas present. But now, she's gone." "And we need to find her," Rossi said. Emily nodded, still not daring to look at anyone. "We need to find her," Emily repeated. "I - I can't live knowing she's hurt and I couldn't help her."

The team jumped into action. Garcia did her tech stuff, trying to find what she could on her last known whereabouts. Emily and JJ spoke to her parents, trying to get to know them as much as they could. Rossi and Morgan and Reid went to the house, trying to find evidence there. Tara headed to her high school to talk to her little sister and Lily's teachers.

"What... what was she like?" Emily asked the parents, Gale and Tori. "Naughty," Gale sighed. JJ frowned. "What do you mean by that?" "She never listened," Tori said. "She was always pushing the boundaries, arguing." Emily could feel the anger in the pit of her stomach. "How was she at school?" "She never went to school. Didn't even know the meaning of the word," Gale scoffed. "Did you help her?" Emily asked. "We did everything we could," Gale said, nodding. "Honestly, Prentiss. If it wasn't for the technicalities of her childhood, we wouldn't have come. We think it's just drugs. Bad crowd," Gale shrugged. Emily walked out then, unable to control her anger. How dare they?

Morgan's eyes were furrowed as he moved around the girl's bedroom. "I don't know about you but if this was my bedroom, I don't think I'd want to stay either." "There's absolutely no personality here," Reid agreed, pulling back the covers of her bed. Then, he saw it. There was a ragged, grey, small baby's blanket tucked under her pillow. Reid pulled it up, inspecting it. It looked old. "Apart from this." He said. Morgan turned around and took it from his hands before quickly pocketing it. "You can't take that from a crime scene-" Reid said quickly, looking between Morgan and Rossi. "It's for Emily," he said simply, pulling back the girls' pillows but then he saw the picture. Under Lily's pillow was an old, faded picture. Morgan recognised Emily immediately, smiling, holding the girl close to her. The blonde hair leaned over and she was kissing Emily's cheek. Morgan had never, ever seen Emily so happy. Rossi looked over his shoulder, sighing. "She hasn't smiled like that with us, ever," Spencer said, looking at it too. "We have to find whoever the fuck took this kid. It'll destroy Prentisss if anything happens to her." Morgan said. He put the picture back and headed out of the room, dialling Garcia's number.

"Hey my chocolate milkshake," she smirked down the phone. "Please tell me you have some sort of lead," Morgan said, all he could feel was hurt for his best friend. Emily may have been his boss but since her first day, she and morgan had been the best brother-sister duo the team had ever seen. Their humour and personalities went together like the north and south end of magnets and Derek knew that without Lily in her life, Prentiss had been missing a big part of herself. He knew she had her secrets, everyone did. But one this close to her, one this personal, meant Emily had never cared about anything more. "I've managed to track some of her online whereabouts and Morgan, it's not pretty." She told him honestly. "Tell me." "She was very, erm, sexual online," Garcia said. "Porn sites, selling her pictures, exchanging messages. She didn't even try to keep it a secret Derek." "Could that be tied to it? Maybe a fan got freaky?" "I'm not sure. She managed to keep her identity pretty covered up. She was good at that, fake identities, and lives. She has whole documents with alternative lives for different people she spoke to. Hannah. Tina. Josie. All with different types of pictures too, different underwear, different roleplays. Derek, as painful as it is for me to say this, she was good at what she did." "Have you spoken to Prentiss?" "Not yet. I don't know how to tell her," Garcia sighed. "She's hurting." "She's just worried baby girl, don't... don't fret. We'll find Lily and get her help."

"What was your sister like?" Tara asked Skyla, Gale and Tori's biological child. "Private," Skyla whispered. "She never spoke to any of us unless it was arguing. She was always in her room, or out. She'd come home early morning and leave again only hours later. I hardly ever saw her." "So you weren't close?" "Not at all. I can hardly even call her my sister," Skyla shrugged. However, she kept her eyes down, avoiding looking up or around the room. "What's life like at home?" Tara asked, probing more. "Normal," she shrugged. "What's normal to you?" "Just," Skyla sighed. "You know, normal." "Your mum told us that Lily misbehaved, and argued," Tara said. Skyla nodded, agreeing. "Did she argue with you?" "No. Only mum." "What did they argue about?" "How quiet she was. Mum used to say she wasn't even part of the family. She.. she said that if they weren't tied by a contract, she'd be gone." Tara nodded. "Lily used to tell Mum that no one loved her, that she was alone." Skyla sighed, feeling bad for speaking badly about her mum. "Mum loved me, Dad did too. I think it hurt Lily, to see the difference. I tried to be mean too, to them to see what they would do but they didn't do what they did to Lily. I don't know why they hated her."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ table of contents

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #my girl lily prentiss #lily prentiss #emily prentiss #emily prentiss head canons #emily prentiss x reader #emily #prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x daughter

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briteboy · 1 year

Note

Someone is sending an ask about your past blog and your fanfic you wrote about two teen anime boys. I suggest you acknowledge it on this blog to let people know instead of trying to rebrand and have a “redemption arc” when what you did is more than wrong, it’s disgusting

if i was really trying to rebrand i wouldn't leave my previous url permanently in my header so people wouldn't forget. ("redemption arc" is from an anon message i received, just for clarification.) i've said this before, but i'll reiterate: anyone who's curious can go to that url and see the post that lives there where i've made my final statement about the situation (and reposted on this blog as well at the time), where i also make it clear that i'm not "rebranding"...i simply got sick of my last url. believe it or not i am just a person and not everything i do is purposely diabolical.

i've tried to handle this as responsibly as i can, i've spoken about this ad nauseam and i've apologized multiple times. what more am i supposed to do or say if i'm not actively harming anyone or contributing to the problem, and haven't been for years now? genuinely asking. like...yeah, it was weird and gross. i'm not disagreeing with you. i'm sorry and i'd go back in time to stop myself from writing fanfiction of aged up personifications of teenage anime characters– or better yet, urge my even younger self to question the norms of fandoms and the like that i'd grown up in, where this was commonplace– if i could.

i don't know how many different ways i can make it clear that i'm not even remotely the same person i was then in any capacity. anyone who's known me for years could tell you this. i could apologize again and again but people would still hold it against me. so at this point i think it's well within my rights to live my life and enjoy my hobbies (completely unrelated to the situation at hand) without being indebted to those who know me through the narrow lens of sims tumblr for a mistake i made 5 years ago and took accountability for at the time, and again even now. as long as this keeps being rehashed, i will continue to do so. it's all i can do.

i know that very insular online communities like to think some people are just Bad Forever but that's just not how life works, especially in the case of ignorance where people actually take the time to reflect, learn and grow after realizing the wrongness of their actions. but if believing that makes you feel more comfortable, then i invite you not to engage with me. we're both better off that way. more than that, i encourage you to consider the fact that people change. that's all i have to say.

#would also like to clarify that i've always made it clear i don't want to interact with minors...at all. true then and true now!

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readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

💜 Get to know me 💜

I figured this is a little overdue. I just wanted to introduce myself a little:

The personal real life things:

My name is Elizabeth, and I'm 27. (Old for the fanfiction writing world to some, the perfect age to others.) My friends call me Liz. I've been reading fanfiction since the dark day of Quizilla, and I've been writing it since high school, so over 10 years.

It started with me writing it for my friends and adding them into stories to allow them to live out their fantasies with characters they loved and adored. After a pretty serious car accident that left me bedridden for over a month last year, I started writing it for me for escapism. The number of stories hidden in my Google Drive is insane, lovelies.

I recently started posting due to my pregnancy, which, according to my partner, only happened because I wouldn't stop reading fairyporn, on here and in books. Fairyporn he now also reads (blows on nails before cleaning them on my shirt.) Due to pregnancy, I've been home more after making the choice to switch my hours at work to allow us to adapt and prep for the arrival of our little.

The stories and writing

I consider myself part of several Fandoms and would take requests for any of the following:

✨️ Lord of the Rings / The Tolkien Universe

✨️ACOTAR and the SJM Universe

✨️Harry Potter

✨️The Bargainer Series

✨️Game of Thrones / House of Dragons

✨️ The Witcher Series

✨️ Percy Jackson

✨️ The MCU

Please just keep in mind, we may not like the same characters, so I cannot promise a mind blowing adventure for every sutuation. I will post a characters I love writing for breakdown in each Fandom if asked for enough.

I will write the following

🥵 smut (please see rules)

❤️ Fluff

🥺 Angst

🥰 platonic relationships

Tropes I ADORE

🥰 Fated Mates

🥰 Grumpy Sunshine

🥰 Mutual Pinning

🥰 Enemies to Lovers

🥰 Friends to Lovers

🥰 Slow. Mother fing. Burn

🥰 Second Chance Romance

🥰 Revenge F

Tropes I dislike (but am open to writing)

😑 forced proximity or marriage

😑 one bed (seriously. Imagine. You've been traveling for hours. No food. No rest. No shower. You're fucking exhausted. You aren't banging the person laying with you. I'm sorry but you're not.)

😑 damsel/daddy in distress

😑 pregnancy

Tropes I absolutely will NOT write:

😞 bully turned lover

😞 step siblings/parent trope

😞 minors in grooming situations

😞 changing sexual preferences due to a bad experience

😞 Tropes relating to me making a known character cheat with my OC/Reader characters - I will write my fake character being cheated on, though

😞 Too dumb to live (I do not like using females as plot points for male characters)

Rules regarding smut

✔️ I will not write smut for characters who are underage in the universe they reside in. Meaning, I won't be feeding the Percy Jackson lovers, Harry Potter Lovers, or some cannon GOT/HOTD lovers smut. I am personally uncomfortable aging up characters for the sole purpose of making a smut scene for them. I do not care if the actor playing them was 18+. Daniel Radcliffe may have been 22 in the last Harry Potter film, but Harry was 17 at the beginning. I am more than happy to do romance with underage characters, though.

✔️ I do not have many kinks I consider hard boundaries, but I will not write water sports, scat play, or anything of that nature. Most other things are fair game. I am active in the kink scene, lovelies. If I haven't played with a kink you'd like written, I have a friend who probably has and will help me. Send me those anonymous messages, and let's bring your fantasy to writing.

✔️ I will write monster fics

✔️ I will write orgies, 3somes, 4somes, all the somes, swapsomes

✔️ I will write ff/mf/ffm/mmf, I will not write mm, simply because I am a female and have not watched two males doing the deed just the two of them. I'd want to do the piece justice and I have no rights to write an emotion/feeling/stimulation I wouldn't understand or have experience with

✔️ I will write dub/con and dark sexual fantasy

Am I open to taking requests?

Do you have a specific question?

Ask me 💜

#aboutme #readychilledwines introduction #rules

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disneyanddisneyships · 2 months

Text

Happier

Warnings: implications of (g)r^pe, and abuse, Jason being a decent guy, Alastor being an ass, alastor being ooc probably. Not proofread.

Summary: after aponi and alastor get into a small tiff at the studio, Jason takes it upon himself to try and let her express her emotions through dance. Part 2 to "Me Too".

Taglist: @gyubby99

Pairings: Huskerdust if u squint, chaggie, Alaponi angst, and a bit of jasaponi (ik julia. Im sorry.)

youtube

"There you go! Yes, wonderful form Vaggie! Good rhythm angel!" Aponi called out as the music played.

The group was practicing their dance. An activity Charlie had forced everyone into to get them to enjoy one another more.

Angel, Vaggie, and Nifty were having the time of their deaths, and they were quite good with the song they were dancing to.

Husk was trying his best, but couldn't focus when he kept bumping into angel and kept getting a face full of the spider's chest fluff.

Charlie was mixing up her steps.

"No, mi Vida, like this," Vaggie stated as she moved to the rhythm in the simple steps aponi had layed out for them.

"Right!" Charlie exclaimed as she tried her best to copy what her girlfriend was doing.

"Good job, Charlie! You're getting it. Try putting your hand here instead-" Aponi stated a she helped Charlie get into a better position.

Alastor however barely even tried.

"This is absolutely preposterous! This dance is horribly choreographed and much too modern!" He sneered, his smile becoming strained.

"Well maybe if you gave it a shot you wouldn't be such an asshole about it, deer boy," Aponi replied.

"Maybe I would try if we had a better instructor!" Alastor replied, his smile becoming triumphant and smug.

"Well maybe if you didn't argue about every single song I picked, everyone would've had a better time!" Aponi practically shouted.

"Aha! Well maybe if you weren't such a bitch, we'd all enjoy the class!" Alastor cursed.

"You are SUCH A-"

Aponi was cut off by a hand on her shoulder. Turning around to see her ex, Jason, standing behind her with a small smile.

Jason was an asshole when the two were together. Abusive. He was even the reason she was down here, but Aponi didn't have it in herself to hold in that grudge, no matter the shitty things he did. And he did some REALLY shitty things.

"What do you want, Jace?" Aponi snapped, still seemingly calming down.

"I know its.. not my place, but.... everyone is pretty tired, and its almost 6pm... Maybe it would be best if everyone went home for the night?" Jason stated.

Aponi sighed. He knew her signs. Of course he did. They've known each other for years....

"Alright..." her eyes softened before she turned to the group. "Today's session is over. You can all go back home," she stated.

Her regular dancers began packing their stuff while Charlie walked up to her.

"I am SO sorry about alastor! I mean if I'd have known before that you two used to uh..... y-you know.. I never would've put either of you in that situation!" Charlie apologized.

"Oh, honey don't worry about it. It's not your fault he's such a self absorbed prick. Why don't you all go back to your hotel, yeah?" Aponi reassured.

"FINALLY! you've said something clever!" Alastor exclaimed as he immediately walked out of the room, forgetting his microphone in his rush.

As the rest of the hotel patrons walked out, Jason stayed.

"....... you wanna talk about it?" He asked as aponi walked to turn off the lights in the studio.

"To you? No. Absolutely not," Aponi stated as she started to pack up her stuff.

Jason chuckled. "Okay okay. Fair..... but I see the way your nose is scrunching up. You need to let off some steam," he replied.

"Maybe I do...... what's it to you?" Aponi asked as she zipped up her bag and walked over to the speakers to make sure they were off.

"Lilly,"

That made her pause.

"....... he just..... hes.... he was my-......" aponi tried before wiping away the tears in her eyes. "And after you did what you did he was the first person to......"

Jason looked down in shame.

"..... you wanna work on the dance that we've been practicing? No one's here. You could scream at the top of your lungs. As much as you want," Jason offered.

"........ yeah.... okay yeah... that's a good idea, Jason," Aponi replied before turning the speakers back on, along with the music.

.......

Alastor froze just outside of the hotel when he went to mess with his microphone, only to realize it wasn't in his hand.

He cursed himself internally. In his haze of storming out he must've forgotten it in the studio....

Usually he would just summon it to him, but the implication of snooping around the studio that he bought and handed the deed over to the love of his death, was too enticing. Especially when he figured she wouldn't be there.

As he made his way back to the building, his smile grew at the sight of it being pitch black inside.

It was only when he walked through the halls, closer to the studio did he hear what sounded to be.... music...

With a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile, he sunk into the shadows of the room, spotting Aponi and Jason starting a dance.

As the music played, aponi stood in the middle of the room, turning slowly.

From where he stood, Alastir could see that she was.... crying.....

He unwillingly felt a pang in his chest at the sight. He always hated when she'd cry.... and now he hated that he hated it...

As she cried, she took hold of the choker around her neck.... Alastor's eyes widened at the sight.... he had given her that when they had first began dating..... was she wearing it this whole time?

As the music went on, aponi collapsed gently onto the floor, where Alastor finally noticed Jason sitting as well.

Alastor tilted his head as the music picked up.

Alastors eyes widened at the choreography. He had always loved watching her dance... even now....

However, the sight of Jason laying his hands on her in the way he was.... even though it was a dance, it struck something inside of alastor....

Alastor flinched at the scream Aponi let out. It was drowned out by the music.....

As the dance went on, the two ended up on the floor, Jason cradling aponi tightly before she screamed so loud the windows may have broken.

Alastor felt something in him feel a tinge of regret.

His head perked up when he saw Jason get off of her, concern on his face.

"Shit.. did I hurt you?" He asked.

Aponi layed on the floor in tears, the flashbacks of their mortal life running through her head.

"Hey, Aponi, it's okay. I-...." Jason stuttered. He promised himself he'd never hurt her again. "Aponi?"

Still no response, other than the tears falling onto the floor.

Jason gulped. "Lilly?" He asked before sitting down on the floor and gently heaving her onto his lap, rocking back and fourth as she clung onto him, digging her nails into his skin as she cried.

Alastor shook his head as his smile strained, summoning his microphone I to his hand and melding into the shadows so he could get back to the hotel.

.......

Alastor morphed into his room, tears in his eyes.

He was so confused. He felt everything at once. Guilt, anger, jealousy, pity, regret. Every emotion except for happiness.

Why was it whenever SHE was near, alastor could barely breathe.... he hated her... she broke his heart. He had given her a contract. They would give their souls to one another as a marriage certificate, but she refused.

So why was HE the one feeling guilty?!

Alastor's eyes softened, as if he finally realized why she was so mad at him that day....

Her whole life she's been confined to someone.... her abusive mother, Jason, Valentino......

Alastor took in a shaky breath.

Oh..... That's why...

#Youtube

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i-am-beckyu · 8 months

Note

AU where a human shrinks to borrower size but instead of it being a super fast change where they're suddenly tiny, they shrink really slowly over a month or so and slowly freak as they turn OR vice versa where a borrower start slowly growing and still when the human discover him

idk why but I'm imagining the sbi with either phil shrinking or techno growing

Honestly that is such a cool idea!!!!

I love it as it is but like also imagine this situation right, but like a human Phil and borrower Techno have like known each other for a long time but they've not like met face to face. So Phil knows about Techno but Techno refuses to be any closer than up on a high shelf or behind a vent where it's safe.

Techno only really talks to Phil because he's lonely but he's to scared to do anything more because obviously all the stories of humans hurting borrowers etc.

So when he starts growing and can suddenly hit his head on the make shift door to his home in the walls, he starts getting concerned. Even if it's slow, he's getting bigger and can't tell why.

He doesn't mention this to Phil as he's not sure what the human will do with the knowledge his little friend intruder is getting to big for the walls- hence being easier to catch.

On the other end, Phil has noticed that he's suddenly getting shorter. At first it was just a few cms, him chalking it up to getting older and inevitably starting to shrink in height, but he measured his height and he was almost and whole 5 inches shorter! It didn't make sense!

He had tried to voice his concerns with Techno about it, but the borrower had been strangely silent for the past few weeks. He'd only ever gotten slight glimpses of them when chatting, and he was becoming concerned that something may have happened to his small friend.

It was at that moment that he heard a very small "hey phil" and was shocked to turn and see a what must have been a comparable barbie sized Techno standing behind him.

"I need help."

The two basically then talk about how the other has been growing/shrinking and don't really understand what's going on just that it keeps happening. Unsure if this is going to continue, Phil starts teaching Techno about how to do and use things as a human and Techno as a borrower.

I think then at some point it would be really good if the moment when they were both the same size, that Techno basically breaks down scared out of his mind with having to basically become and act human and is scared about it lasting forever. He's been alone for years and now he has to just take phils place basically and act like it's normal? Cue the two having a heart to heart again and the first hug either has had in a long long time. And they're both the same size so it's perfect.

Continuing further I think basically they'd both become the same size as the other and adjust to new life with Phil being a lot more out int the open then what Techno was and Techno just learning how to adjust. They'd probably be those sizes for a few months and then randomly they'd start switching back again.

They never figure out why it happens, just that it does and it continues on like this for basically the rest of their lives and they adapt to it. I'd say they end up doing work from home jobs lol.

That's my take. Thank you very much anon for the idea!!! I don't know if it was intentional, but you forgot to sign off lol. Def gave me a bit of brain brrrrrr action on this one.

Also sorry for my weird activity being online and not lol. Busy at work and wanting to concentrate on the fic so I'm kinda tunnel visioning my focuses on those and forgetting other socials exist at random times lol. I WILL KEEP MAKING THIS FIC AND IT WILL BE DONE BY MY BIRTHDAY! I SWEAR IT!

#anon my beloved #beckyu answers #beckyu writes #beckyu prompts #idk if that's a tag I've used before lol #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #giant tiny #gt #g/t #tiny!techno #giant!philza #tiny!philza #giant!techno #unintentional sizeshifting #I love that as a tag #this took me 2 hours to finish and post because of work lol

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packedandstrapped · 7 months

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can u give me ideas on how to come out? i’m 22 and known i was a lesbian since i was around 14-15 and have been too scared to come out because of my parents. i value what my parents say and ik they aren’t going to accept me so when i come out to them, they’re gonna say they disown me and kick me out or some other shit, but it’s gonna make me spiral into a depression (haha). but i can’t keep living a lie man living like this is hard especially when my parents keep trying to set me up with men. when i was in highschool, i tried so hard to give them hints i didn’t like men, i never dated them, never talked about them, hell even begged my mom to wear a suit to prom, but she told me it was “un lady like” and made me wear a dress. i just love my family so much and i don’t want them to hate me but living this lie has made me hate myself. no matter what i do it’s a lose lose situation. this has caused me so many problems. i literally use to have an eating disorder because of how much anxiety of my parents finding out i was gay would give me. i’ve tried to convince my self to like men and i just can’t. i feel like something is so so wrong with me and i can’t. it makes me not wanna live anymore i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. i know this is lowkey cringy to be telling someone all this, but i just really really need advice on this because i just can’t keep living everyday a lie.

Hey friend- please feel free to DM off anon if you want to talk. I will chat with you about this stuff literally any time.

There's nothing wrong with who you are. Your message feels like something I could have written at 19-20 years old. When you said you value what your parents say, I felt that in my core. I want to be able tell you that everyone comes around and they'll totally understand and accept you. But sometimes it's not that way. And the people that claim to love us the most can only give that love when we fit into the box they've created for us. This might sound hokey, but reading The Four Agreements really helped me identify the space between my parents ideas and my own. I will send you a copy if you're interested in reading.

It's no wonder that you're experiencing so much anxiety and worry about coming out. For a lot of us, coming out as gay to our parents is the first time we truly see them disappointed in us. There's a crushing weight to our parents thinking we're actively trying to hurt them by living our lives authentically. I hope that's not the case for you.

If I could do it all over again, I would journal about it for a few days. I'd practice the important phrases I want to get out. I would focus on the simple message I wanted to send rather than trying to navigate their feelings. I would try to think about the various reactions I might get and have one or two general ideas of how I could respond neutrally. And despite all of this, I'm sad to say even though I would have felt more in control, I'd still be just as wounded coming out of it. I understand the fear you have in disappointing your parents because it's been a reality for me for almost twenty years. They've never let up on reminding me that while they're proud of my accomplishments, it's despite my otherness rather than a celebration of what a queer person can do. They refuse to use the word "wedding" or "wife" and they give us a room with two twin beds when we go to visit. The microaggressions never cease. What's changed now is how much of myself I let them see. Now it's about what makes me comfortable instead of existing around them in a box that never fit right. It's still hard- I regularly grieve the relationship I wish I had with my parents. But as I've aged, I've realized that my friends are my family. They are they ones that have been there and show up for me unconditionally. They're the ones I have turned to when I needed a place to stay, a job, or a listening ear. They get it.

I don't know how you feel most comfortable communicating with your parents, but think about what it would look like to say the words out loud or in a text. Try not to feel bad about telling them this information. You are being truthful and honest and that's what is important. You are giving them the gift of seeing you for who you really are; to celebrate you in the way you want to be seen in this world. Don't worry about doing it the wrong way because sometimes there just isn't a defined right way. I know it's scary but the sooner you get it off your chest, the sooner you can fall into the comfort of your real self.

Come back or DM me if you need anything, friend. We need you here.

#anon #coming out #I cried reading this message #wish I could give you a hug anon

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yippeecahier · 10 months

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AITA for insisting on my husband moving his stuff?

This is the kind of thing I'd put on Reddit but with all thats going on, I'm sticking to Tumblr. So I (25 NB) got married to my husband (25 M) on June 24th this year and havent even been married a whole month. We'd talked about boundaries and communication and have had multiple sessions with a premarital and now marital counselor since we got engaged in March. Before that, we dated for 2 years and have known each other and been friends off and on since the 6th grade.

When it comes to boundaries, we have two that are pretty much unshakeable: I need consistent 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the dark (with either white noise or relative silence) and going to bed before midnight, and my husband needs alone time to play games for a few hours a day where no one will walk in (he has scopophobia from childhood trauma where his parents and siblings would barge in and even remove the door and fistfight him so now he interprets pairs of eyes as threats and wont use the university library for this reason; I wish I was joking, but I'm not, and my MIL confirmed this is true because she had my husband as an unstable teen and did, in fact, fist fight him in her 20s). I always thought these were both reasonable boundaries and could be worked with given compromise, but this is somehow more contentious than I thought.

I'm currently living in his 1 bed, 1 bath apartment. I was living out of my suitcase up to and a week after our wedding until our counselor told him he had to make space for me; much to his chagrin, I invited my mom over to help me because I was so overwhelmed by all the boxes from wedding gifts and overwhelmed from the wedding (which is why we didn't leave on a honeymoon right away). Our counselor, and now my parents (who are medical professionals), and two of our friends, say he needs to move his computer out of the bedroom.

I have autism, IBS, and a history of mental illnesses. He will lock the door to the bedroom that contains the only bathroom for hours at a time and take a long time to respond to texts. I will not be able to sleep in the bedroom or use the toilet for long periods of time. I'm exhausted and overwhelming from having to walk to the local stores to use the bathroom, and none of them are 24 hours so after 11pm I'm exhausted and having a really bad time. I live in the downtown area of a big city with him, so I cannot simply find a bush to pee/poo in. On one very humiliating occasion I used an empty food container to eliminate, and threw my waste in the trash because he wouldn't respond to his phone or unlock the door despite my panicked banging.

The stress of it, and being deprived of sleep past 1am every night only to be woken up by our neighbors at 9am is making my IBS worse and has triggered multiple meltdowns and psych episodes the likes of which I haven't seen for >2 years (including trying to walk to the train tracks to kms to escape the hell my brain was putting me through because I wasnt giving it the sleep it needs).

On one particularly bad incident, I was tired and took a nap in the morning after having a meltdown over seeing a dead cockroach in the kitchen during breakfast when my husband set multiple blaring alarms at 5am because he is a deep sleeper even though we went to bed at 2am (I did blow the situation out of proportion, but I was also sleep deprived and actively psychotic as a result). When my husband came back, he came in guns blazing and pulled me out of bed demanding to see the roaches, and expressed frustration that I went back to bed when I was freaking out about the roach over the phone some 15 minutes prior. We got in an argument about if we need to put in a request for pest control, and at one point, I yelled, "FINE, YOU’RE RIGHT AND I'M WRONG," and put my hands on his throat because I got triggered into an episode. I was shaking and asked to leave the conversation multiple times before it got to that point, but he wouldn't let me leave the kitchen - and pulled me back by my arm - until I'd heard a piece of his mind; that combined with waking up suddenly in the middle of my nap to an angry spouse after another successive night of sleep deprivation caused me to become violent whereas I'd never been violent to others in any episode before.

I regret it and apologized fervently and am trying everything I can to prevent that from happening again. I am not a typically violent person, and previous psychotic episodes only resulted in self-harm, not putting my hands on others. However, him not getting with the program I need to stay sane isn't helping. I started screaming and hitting myself during this last meltdown today over coming to a locked bathroom/bedroom door for the 3rd time after being out of the house for him to play games for 6 hours despite having another stress induced IBS episode, and immediately got back in my car to drive to my parent's house without any of my stuff.

I was deprived of sleep for the 3rd night in a row because I'm doing all the housework so he can have his games alone. His gaming computer is in the bedroom, which is locked, and he refuses to listen to requests to move the computer out of the bedroom or unlock the door because of his scopophobia. I can technically sleep on the futon, but I cannot brush my teeth or go to the bathroom because the bathroom is in the bedroom, and sleeping on the futon is interrupted because he refuses to sleep alone and will come out of the bedroom, wake me, and take me to bed with him at 3am.

Yesterday he got crabby because he "didn't get a break," and I told him I felt "hurt because it sounds to me like [he was] not grateful for the two hours I spent cleaning the apartment and dishes" the latter of which is his job, "to give [him] 2 hours to play games," to which he responded that he needs "at least 4 hours," "with the door closed and locked," and "complete silence," and my housework is "too noisy." This does not make sense to me because he cannot hear his phone notifications when I call or text to use the bathroom, and he is playing music. Moreover, knowing that the vacuum cleaner sets us both off, my parents gifted me a Roomba for cleaning that is much quieter, but he won't help to set it up.

He keeps suggesting compromises with my mom, our friends, and our marital counselor. None of them have worked, and none of them he has kept up.

1) My mom offered to buy him an L-shaped desk for him when she comes over next, but now he refuses to have her come over and doesn't want to spend money on an L-shaped desk. He also wants to use the L-shaped desk for everything BUT the tower.

2) We bought an IKEA desk for $10 at Goodwill and got cables for him to move his keyboard, screen, and mouse out of the room, but he refuses to move the tower (which has RGB that won't turn off while he's using it) out of the bedroom. Then, the door will not completely close because of all the cables running through it and I hear his music, games, and keyboard. His reason for not moving the tower? His dad (my FIL) cut the ethernet cable to the exact length for it to be in the bedroom and my husband wants to be able to lock the door to the bedroom and bathroom during the day (which he can stay there and play games all day, but don't lock the door to the only bathroom, I have literal IBS that will NOT wait. I already soiled a pair of shorts.)

3. My friend stayed with us for a bit while in transitory housing, which is how he justified locking the door (to masturbate without being walked in on). But even after our friend showed him how to turn on notifications from favorite contacts when he puts his phone on Do Not Disturb, he still silences his phone and locks the door.

4. We negotiated together with the marital counselor a possible compromise where I "own" the bedroom for 12 hours at night and he "owns" the bedroom for 12 hours during the day so that he can play games during the day at noon instead of at, say, 2am. He suggested implementing this the week after our wedding. It didn't happen, I brought it up with the counselor. He says it's because he's "on vacation" but we'll implement come July. It's a week into July and it still hasn't happened. I told him I need a functioning sleep schedule for my job two weeks BEFORE I start or I'll have a psych episode at work and get fired, and he agreed, and I still came home to a locked bedroom/bathroom door TODAY.

5) We talked about getting a two bedroom condo that's a walking distance from his university. His assets plus my salary (I'm the breadwinner right now while he's in college but he was in the military and has $40k in savings and $50k in stocks), and we qualify for up to $400k on our mortgage. He refuses to close on the 2 bedroom/2 bathroom condo I requested that's a 5 minute walk from his classes because it's "too expensive" at $375k, and he insists on a 2 bedroom/1 bathroom place for $315k that's a 15 minute walk from his campus. Even though I told him my IBS requires I have access to a bathroom at all times, he still will spend over an hour on the toilet watching YouTube even if he's not "sequestering" to play games. I won't hear a peep from him about sharing a bathroom to save $60k unless he changes his behavior. This also is the driving force behind why I want to try to move into a two bedroom condo ASAP, even though our lease ends in mid-November. He refuses because he doesn't want to pay rent for the apartment while we have a mortgage OR sublease/AirBnB it OR break the lease. I have argued with support from our realtor, mortgage broker, and my parents, that now is the time to find and close on a home because it's a several months long process, especially since we're using VA loans.

Moreover, his ass has the audacity to repeatedly twist my arm about having a baby. When we first got married, I said, "Sure, we can have kids; but first I have to find a way to be mentally stable without medications for a year straight while living with you before I can carry a viable pregnancy. I've been stable and unmedicated before, but that stability requires consistent sleep, a regular and highly regimented schedule, and consistent vigorous exercise to work." We're nowhere near that, (I fucking put my hands on him during an episode and even my OBGYN said given my medical history its not a question of if I'll get postpartum depression but when,) and he keeps asking me to schedule an appointment to change my birth control to something other than an IUD.

I'm an adult, I can leave my husband alone for 4 hours in complete silence with some effort and some frustration, but A BABY fucking won't, because it can't. It needs your attention every 2 hours to eat or poop or what have you. His kid cannot find something else to do like I can to leave him in silence most of the day unless they're in school (by age 5 and only during the schoolyear) or can drive (by age 16), but definitely not all night at any point between their birth and them moving out (given current economic trends, this wont be economically feasible until our kid is 30). Plus, the kid would occupy our 2nd bedroom in the condo and then I'd have to figure out how to get sleep in my husband's room and (share a bathroom if we go with his insisitence on a 1 bathroom cheaper condo) despite my IBS with TWO human beings, when sharing with one is hard enough.

We agreed to getting me a service animal from a program in Canada I'd been on the waiting list for since 2019, and the animal is available for me to take home this summer. I am going to Canada by myself because my husband doesn't have a passport, but we're meeting in New York to drive home together in a rental car with the animal. My parents understandably think this is an additional stressor since now I'm taking care of not only me and my husband, but also an animal. But I need something to step in and perform tasks to mitigate/alert to psych episodes.

Today he hugged me and told me he loved me and was so glad he "married [me]" because I "enhance [his] life every moment," but it feels like lip service when he won't move the computer or implement any of the possible solutions we came up with above. I wish I could say the same. I feel like my life is actually worse since I moved in. I'm contemplating quitting the new job, going back to my old one, and living with my parents until he can get his shit together enough that I can actually sleep and use the bathroom like a normal person.

I can't live with him like this, or one of us will get very badly hurt. I start work in two weeks, and need to be at work by 7am every day, so I cannot be stable enoigh to keep a job if I'm having psych episodes because I'm going to bed after midnight whenever he's feeling kind enough to remember me and unlock the bedroom door. I need two weeks to reset my sleep schedule. He says he understands after I scared him when I put my hands on him, and after each and every sleep-deprivation induced meltdown, but I feel like he really doesn't because none of his behavior has changed.

You are welcome to reblog to give an in-depth response if it doesn't fit in replies or DM me if you want it to be private. I'm desperate for help. He's not a bad guy. Everyone says that it's very apparent he loves me. He's my best friend, and I love him, but my health, sanity, and, in turn, our marriage are at stake if this doesn't get solved and soon.

#vent #advice #actually psychotic #actually audhd #actually autistic #actually adhd #relationships #marriage

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