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#and i like how he calls me out on my nonsense when i lose myself in a contradiction or don't say what i want to say or say what i don't mea
apoloniaspiegelgold · 3 months
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All my life I've been told by all kinds of people that they can never really tell what I'm feeling or what's going through my mind because apparently I'm always just hiding everything behind a smile so that I've become rather unreadable. And then he just. Takes one look at me and goes 'Yeah. I know that face, oh here we go again, she's about to unleash her thoughts. She's gonna bash that theory I just showed her so hard. Where's my popcorn?' I hadn't even said anything yet and he was already laughing.
And to be honest. It's quite nice to be known, actually.
#i only went to his office to ask if he wants to join me for lunch he didn't have time and yet i still somehow ended up staying for 1.5 hours#'thanks for the conversation' he said when i left. 'and thanks for keeping me from my work'#as if HE hadn't kept me from lunch when he kept our conversation going on and on with his 'wait i still wanted to show you this'#talking to him always feels like wellness for my brain somehow. like. we're different people but we think the same way.#i don't have to translate my thoughts to be understood he already gets my point before i've even finished my train of thought#every time work tires me out so much that it feels like i can't think straight anymore then i talk to him and suddenly my brain works again#and i like how he calls me out on my nonsense when i lose myself in a contradiction or don't say what i want to say or say what i don't mea#and he lets me go on extensive rants about statistics despite not knowing anything about it and doesn't even complain#he just always says 'i'll pretend i know what that means' and says i should learn it well so he can ask me for my help with it later#recently he came to me right after teaching saying 'you won't believe how much i just messed up. let me show you how i failed'#and then proceeded to recreate the entire situation and his thought process at that moment and i just#there is a very big word running around in my mind that i dare not speak of but maybe one day#i don't even know if he even sees me as much as a friend maybe i'm just some co-worker he likes talking to occasionally you know#what does it mean what does it all mean#ramblings
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joshslater · 11 months
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Frat War
Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.
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"Sweet dreams," he said and knocked on my helmet. Then he gave me the finger straight in my face. "See you tomorrow or whenever," turned off the lights, and closed the door.
I was alone in the darkness. The only sound I could hear was the vibrator, or perhaps I just felt it and imagined the sound. I tried to jiggle around a bit to see if I could get loose, but I was securely tied up. It wasn't uncomfortable, perhaps not surprising given all the padded sports gear they forced on me, but I would probably have burning muscle aches when they eventually cut me loose. Right now it was the pungent smell of locker room from the gear that bothered me more, or perhaps even more the sock gag they taped in place. It just kept leaking a foul, sour taste. They can't be this bad naturally so it must be because of the oil.
Fuck, I'm losing it. My mind keeps wandering and not focusing. I'll take it from the start.
So someone in the linear algebra class asked if I could walk by the KAX frat house on my way home and hand over some homework to Chase. I didn't recall seeing him before, but then the class lecture hall is large and some people are watching the classes remotely. I assumed we had spoken though, because how else would he know I passed the frat house on my route? "Sure," I said and grabbed the manilla folder from him.
After one lecture in mechanics, friction more specifically, I was on my way home. The KAX frat house was a weird-looking brick building that had been some sort of school before it was converted, with a decent-sized front garden. I walked up the gravel walk to the door and just as I was about to press the buzzer the door flung open and a half dozen dudes tackled me to the floor.
"Hey! Let me" was all I managed to shout out before someone stuck a rolled towel between my teeth. I was pressed down into the floor by several hands and knees. "You find it? Is it him?" someone asked. I could hear rummaging above me. "Yeah, it's here. Schematics, codes, everything. He even put it in a folder with KAX written on it. What a fucking stealth ninja."
I had been set up! For what I didn't know, but I started to struggle and shout pleadings to them, which probably came out as muffled nonsense. "Spritz him," someone else said, and soon after a pair of hands held my head still, while a third inserted something into one nostril, sprayed a mist into it, and I blacked out.
"He's awake," someone called out far in the distance, and I wondered who he meant. There was something in my mouth but as I tried to reach for it someone grabbed my arm. Slowly the frat house and the ambush came back to me and I opened my eyes. I saw myself in a large, wall-mounted mirror, sitting relaxed in an armchair that had been placed in a home gym. I was dressed almost completely as a football player. Cleats, socks, tight pants, undershirt, and two guys were about to tie the shoulder pads in place. I had two black streaks under my eyes and duct tape over my mouth keeping whatever in place. There was a funky smell of locker room as if the uniform hadn't been washed. "Almost done. Keep calm and don't struggle, and we won't knock you out again."
I wasn't sure what was happening, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't get far if I tried to fight them. The guys put on a football Jersey in the school team's colors, followed by elbow pads and gloves. Then they helped me up from the armchair and moved me over to their lat pulldown machine, I think it's called. It looked like it came from a professional gym that I imagine the frat had grabbed at some bankruptcy auction. In the few steps over I could feel something else was wrong. I had been so overwhelmed by the sensations of a full football outfit I hadn't noticed something was weird in the groin area.
Once seated on the machine the guys started to tie me in place with thick ropes. Another pair of guys carried the armchair out of the room so the only remaining furniture was gym equipment. I was still at a loss for what the purpose, as well as the reason, for all this was. In front of me one guy rolled up a white sock that was discolored as if it had been heavily used in black shoes. He then picked up a small bottle, unscrewed it, and used the dropper from the lid to squirt some liquid into the rolled-up sock. He then tore off a new strip of duct tape, ripped off the tape from my face, replaced the cloth in there with the sock roll, and taped it shut again. I figured if I resisted they would just use whatever that spritz was again.
"We have a private cannabis oil blend with some other shit mixed in that gives you these amazing sexual highs. Just rock hard for hours while you can space out to your favorite porn. Very dangerous to use too often or too long." He pressed a helmet on my head and locked it in place with the strap. "With the concentration you're getting, and released over such a long time, you'll end up forming completely new sexual attractions to whatever you're subjected to." He pressed something near my hip and I could feel what might have been a cockring starting to vibrate. "To what is however the question." He was about to leave when one of the other guys pointed at something on the floor.
He reached down and plugged in an air humidifier. "We put so much effort into this, and I almost forgot it. We've been pulling moisture out of gym clothes for months to create this experience for you. I'm really interested in what the outcome is. The original idea was to turn you gay for football jocks, but I think it's more likely you'll end up sexually attracted to locker rooms. Or bondage. Well, tell your bros at the frat we won the prank battle this year."
My mouth was filled with bitter, sour taste and my eyes started having trouble focusing on him.
"Fuck, it stinks. Let's leave boys before it sticks in the hair. I bet it takes weeks to get out. Sweet dreams," he said and knocked on my helmet.
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sydsaint · 3 months
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If you feel like it i was wondering if you could write a Poly Nick Aldis x reader x Adam Pierce? Maybe she is their assistant or smth for both brands. Maybe also using injury prompts of your choice?
Gotta show some love for Smackdown and Raw daddies. <3
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Summary: The reader is the assistant for both Nick and Adam whom love to bicker about who loves and appreciates all of her hard work more.
You hurry into the arena with your security badge swinging wildly around your neck. Tonight is a PLE night of all nights. And you're late for work. Your tardiness isn't on porpoise of course. Nick and Adam both mentioned that you'd be on camera more than usual tonight so you should take the opportunity to dress up a bit. So you took their advice to heart and spent all afternoon getting all dolled up for the night. This resulted in you losing track of time and leaving the hotel late.
"Here! I'm here!" You announce frantically as you burst through the office door.
"Ah, Miss LN." Nick is the first one to greet you. "I was just about to call and ask if you were having trouble in traffic."
You take a second to catch your breath and smooth out your dress. "Not exactly, no." You shake your head. "I sort of lost track of time getting myself ready for tonight." You explain. "I promise that it won't happen again, sir." You assure him.
"Nonsense." Nick scoffs lightheartedly. "You're only a few minutes late, YN." He nods to the clock on the wall. "Besides, you look absolutely stunning." He compliments you.
"Thank you, sir." You blush and walk over to your desk for the night. "Is everything ready for the night? Anything I can help with before the show starts?" You ask him.
Aldis sits back down at his larger desk and shakes his head. "We're waiting for Pearce to finally arrive." He informs you. "Tell me, YN. How is Adam treating you over on Monday nights?" He asks you curiously.
You look up from your bag at Nick's question. "He's fine, of course." You insist. "My travel schedule is a bit hectic. Oh, but I don't mind it! I do love to get to travel all over the place." You correct yourself so it doesn't seem like you're complaining.
"Good." Nick replies plainly.
Silence falls over the room while the two of you wait for Pearce to show up. He pops into the office about 10 minutes later being trailed by Logan Paul.
"Sorry I'm late, everyone." Pearce announces as he comes through the door. "I seem to have ran into a bit of a problem on my way in." He nods to Logan behind him. "Logan! Give me a moment to speak with my colleague here." He nods to Nick before stepping over to him. "YN! Could you keep Mr. Paul company for a moment?"
"Happy to, sir." You nod and beckon Logan over to your desk.
Logan happily walks over to your desk and starts eyeing you up. "YN! I didn't know you worked for Pearce as well as Aldis." He comments.
"Mhm." You nod. "I work Mondays and Fridays. How are you, Logan?" You make small-talk with him.
"Better now that I'm talking to you." Logan replies with a cheeky grin.
You flash an amused smile at Logan and shake your head. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" You ask him.
"She's more like a friends with benefits thing." Logan quips. "And I'm always looking for new friends." He adds suggestively.
Over on the other side of the room Pearce and Aldis are discussing Logan bothering Pearce about coming to Raw when both men catch Logan blatantly hitting on you.
"Mr. Paul! I'd appreciate it if you'd stop hitting on my assistant." Nick speaks up first.
Logan stops talking to you and turns to look at Adam and Nick. "Nick is right." Adam adds. "We don't need to remind you of WWE's strict sexual harassment policy do we?" He asks Logan.
"No sir." Logan is swift to reply. "My bad, YN." He apologizes to you.
"It's alright." You nod. "Talk to you later, Logan."
Logan takes the hint and heads out to his locker room. Everyone waits until Logan is long gone before anyone speaks again.
"He sounded awfully confident over here." Nick comments.
"I'd be confident too if I looked like that and had all that money." You joke with a small giggle.
Nick and Adam both scoff. "Don't tell me you're into him, YN?" Adam asks you.
"If he wasn't a total tool and had a girlfriend already." You shrug.
"Men like that are nothing but trouble, my dear." Nick warns you. "You shouldn't worry yourself with troublemakers like that." He adds.
You giggle and shake your head, recognizing the jealous tone in both men's voices.
"Nick is right." Adam agrees. "That dress looks stunning on you by the way." He adds. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Logan for obvious reasons."
"Thank you." You blush again. "Now that you're both hear are we all ready for the show?" You ask both men.
Adam and Nick both nod. "We're all ready." Adam confirms.
"Yes. Now, let's put that stunning dress to good use and get you on camera my dear." He adds.
"Yes. You deserve some camera time after putting up with Logan, don't you think?" Adam agrees.
You giggle and get to your feet. "Whatever you guys say."
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helloalycia · 7 months
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the Clarks [four] // alicia clark
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summary: the last thing you expect is for the world to basically end, but you're grateful you have the Clarks by your side as it does.
warning/s: mentions of the dead, blood, death and drug withdrawals.
author's note: this chapter was originally one super long one so i split into two short ones, hence why this is a little on the shorter end compared to others. Hope you like it nonetheless! one part left after this 🥰
one / two / three / five / masterlist / wattpad
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A few hours later, as the sun was setting, my mum finally made it home in one piece. As soon as I saw her car pulling in the driveway from the Clarks front window, I was about to go and check on her per Madison's request, but Madison beat me to it and insisted she come with me.
"Okay...," I agreed with confusion. "But she'll be fine. She wasn't sick this morning and I doubt she's suddenly caught a cold between then and now."
Madison was unconvinced but joined my side nonetheless, but not without casting a final glance at Alicia, saying, "Don't leave the house. We won't be long."
Alicia rolled her eyes but nodded, joining her brother on the couch. Madison and I left for my house, myself letting her in and hoping my mum wouldn't be in a mood and start berating me or, even worse, Madison.
"Mum? You home?" I called out, closing the front door and going into the living-area. "Mum–?"
"Will you keep it down!" her familiar voice hissed from the couch, and Madison and I stopped when we saw her laying across it, head under a cushion. "I'm trying to sleep here!"
I sighed, rolling my eyes and shooting Madison an 'I told you so' look. "Okay, sorry. I'm heading over to the Clark's house."
"Whatever."
Remembering why I hated being here, I dragged Madison back out the front door and we walked back to hers.
"See?" I said knowingly. "Nothing out the ordinary. Still as hostile as usual."
Madison glanced back at my house. "Hmm, yeah... d'you wanna stay at ours tonight? I'm sure Alicia would appreciate the help with Nick."
"You sure it won't be too much with Travis and his family coming around?"
She shook her head, patting me on the back as she motioned for me to go through the front door. "Of course not. There's always room for you here, you know that."
I smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Madison."
When we returned to the living room, Nick was trying to listen to the radio as Alicia was distracted by her phone, probably messaging Matt. When she saw us returning, she looked back to us both.
"How's your mum?" she asked, earning Nick's attention, the two of them waiting.
"Still hates me," I joked, making Madison tut disapprovingly, and I was forced to change my comment. "Sorry. I meant, she's still her usual tired self after a long day of work. Happy now?"
Madison sighed and headed for the kitchen as Nick and Alicia gave me sympathetic glances, but I shrugged them off and sat on the armchair. Alicia put on the TV and we put on the news, per Nick's request, confused at all the chaos happening in the city with some protests. We didn't get to watch it long enough to understand the issue however, as the electricity suddenly cut off, leaving us in the bare bones of light of dusk coming through the windows.
"Kids? You okay?" Madison called out from the kitchen, and we yelled in confirmation. Not long later, the blonde returned with candles and matches. "Help me light these."
As we discussed why the power had suddenly gone out, Nick started mumbling about the power grid and losing control and a bunch of other nonsense that Alicia and I exchanged looks at. Maybe he was still a little delusional from his withdrawal, who knew?
After we finished lighting and spreading out the candles, we all heard a high-pitched scream from outside, startling everyone and making us run to the front window to see what was happening. My own eyes widened when I saw the neighbours across the road running as someone chased them, attacking them with a weapon of some sort. There was blood covering their clothes and it didn't look good.
"Mum, we have to do something!" Alicia exclaimed, before tugging my arm to the door.
"No! You can't go out there!" Nick shouted, and Madison jumped in front of us both before we could leave.
"Your brother's right, it's too dangerous!" she said sternly.
I looked at her with disbelief. "Madison, they need help, we can't just sit and–"
"Nobody leaves this house, understood?!" she ordered, and I breathed out with surprise. She looked to Nick, saying, "Lock the windows and doors now, son."
I blinked, glancing at the window. "I have to go back home. Mum's alone and–"
"Is everything locked up?" Madison asked, sensing my concerns. "Doors? Windows?"
I nodded, almost sure. "I think so. Unless she opened something before she passed out. But she doesn't usually–"
"Then she'll be okay," Madison said with certainty. "It's not safe out there, Y/N. Stay here, okay? Just until Travis gets back and then we'll check on your mum together."
I wasn't convinced, but it definitively wasn't safe out there and I wasn't sure what else to do. Mum would be fine, right?
"Stay here," Alicia said after a moment, taking my hand and earning my attention. "I'll come with you later."
If I wasn't convinced before, I certainly was now. Anything Alicia asked, I was sure I'd do – this included. So, with a reluctant sigh, I nodded and gave in.
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How was I supposed to know what this 'sickness' was? How was I supposed to know that the news and the neighbours and the electricity going out were all signs for what would happen?
After everything went wrong that night, the neighbours changing right before our eyes, Travis and his family returning, looking like they'd seen a ghost, Alicia almost dying... I dreaded what that could mean for my mother.
It wasn't until I raced to the living-area with my heart in my throat when I saw my mum snarling at the wall, her back facing me. It should have been obvious what was wrong, especially after what I'd seen moments before, but I refused to believe it.
"Mum?" I asked nervously, taking a step forward. "You okay?"
Her snarling quietened as she paused, tilting her head, then she turned around and I saw the worst. Her jaw was slacken, bloody and spit around her lips, eyes grey and blank, skin rough... she looked dead, just like the others, and tears burned my lids.
"Y/N, stay away from her!" Madison exclaimed, tugging me back before my mum could grab me with her outreached fingers.
Travis rushed in behind us with the shotgun he used to stop the neighbour with earlier and pointed it directly at my mum.
"Wait, just wait–" I tried to make them stop, hoping I could figure out something else. Maybe she wasn't one of them? Maybe it was reversible?
"Y/N, honey, we gotta go," Madison said, trying to pull me back, but I fought against her.
"Just wait! She might be okay! She might–!"
"Maddie, get her out of here!" Travis warned, moving backwards as my mum approached him.
"Y/N, come on!" Madison shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me out the front door.
"Just wait! Please, just–!"
BANG.
She was my mother. A bad one who probably hated my very existence, but she was still my mother and she didn't deserve to die like this.
"We need to go back inside, sweetie," Madison said softly, pulling me towards her for a hug, but I could barely hear her, the sound of the shotgun repeating in my mind.
The last ever sight of my mum was an undead, bloody mess and I wasn't sure I could ever un-see it.
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19 years old — 21 days later...
We'd found some abandoned-looking hotel to take refuge in for the moment – Madison, Alicia and I, along with Strand and Ofelia, some friends we'd made whilst escaping the city. Everything had gone so horribly wrong these past few days, with the Abigail being taken, Travis leaving to find Chris who'd gone on the run after trying to kill Madison and Alicia, and Nick choosing to leave his family altogether.
The last one was the one I couldn't quite understand. How could he choose to leave his family in the middle of an apocalypse? You don't just leave family behind, especially not now, not when surviving is impossible without them. It hurt, even more when he asked me to come with him, but how could I? How could I just leave Madison and Alicia?
I was pissed off and hurt to say the least. He should have been better to them, no matter what. And it had clearly affected Alicia more than she was letting on.
Madison and Strand were having a look downstairs in the hotel to make sure there were no infected. Meanwhile, Ofelia, Alicia and I took to the upstairs to check the hotel rooms. As Ofelia wandered off down the hall, I used this as my chance to check in with Alicia.
"Hey," I said quietly, falling into step with her. She glanced at me, expressionless, so I continued, "You okay?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
I tried to read how she was feeling, searching her eyes for something beyond this feigned nonchalant persona she had, but there was nothing. "Nick."
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she said, "He chose to leave. I can't change that."
I tilted my head slightly. "I know that, but it's still shitty and he shouldn't have done it."
She released a deep breath as she looked down, avoiding my eyes. I knew her well enough to know that she cared a lot for him, even if she tried to pretend she didn't.
"I can go and look for him if you want," I offered, wanting her to be okay. "Bring him back."
At this, she immediately stopped walking and looked to me like I was insane. "Hell no! You're not going out there, risking your life because he wants to have a pout! You're not cleaning up his messes for him again!"
I swallowed awkwardly, surprised by her sudden outburst. "Okay, you're right. Sorry, I didn't mean to–"
"No!" she exclaimed again, flustered and irritated and in disbelief. "Why would you even say something like that?!"
"Alicia, I–"
"He chose to leave!" she reminded me with a glare, and I soon realised it wasn't aimed at me. "He– he thought it was safer out there than it was with us, so he can live with that! But you– you're not going! I'm not losing you, too!"
Frowning when I saw her eyes tearing up, I tried to take back my words. "Alicia–"
"It doesn't matter," she said stubbornly, before looking away and pushing past me to go to Ofelia.
I watched her go, my heart squeezing with guilt. For God's sake, Nick, why did you have to leave?
As we searched a few rooms, soon realising the ones with a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door handles were full of infected, we stayed in a room to use the shower and get into a change of clothes. Thankfully, by a miracle, the water was still working and we didn't know for how long, so Alicia showered first. Ofelia left to get some fresh air and I was stuck gathering some clothes for my shower next, whilst also wondering how to talk to Alicia without upsetting her yet again.
Soon enough, I heard Alicia leaving the bathroom and turned to see her walking to the mirror, fully dressed but with wet hair and a towel in hand.
"You can go," she said briefly, before facing the mirror.
I nodded, chewing my lip awkwardly and standing up. I hesitated, glancing at her as she wiped her face with her towel, then decided to grow a pair and talk to her.
"Alicia?"
"What?"
"D'you wanna talk about it?"
She paused, still not turning to look at me, then answered firmly. "No."
Figuring it was too soon, I respected her decision with a nod and was about to go to the bathroom. Then, she spoke up again, stopping me.
"Why did he go?"
I turned around, seeing her looking at the counter with sad eyes.
"Why would he just leave?" she continued, voice so quiet she sounded like a kid. "He's supposed to be my brother."
I approached her cautiously, not wanting to push her away when she was finally opening up. "I can pretend to understand Nick's decisions, but I never have. I understand why you're upset, Alicia. I am, too. He was supposed to stick by me, too. I didn't think he'd just go."
"He asked you to go with him," she said, neither accusatory or upset, and looked up at me. "Why didn't you?"
"Why would I?"
She pursed her lips, green eyes darting between mine as if trying to find the truth. But I was telling it, she had to know that.
"He's your best friend," she started, but I stopped her, knowing where she was going with it.
"He's an arsehole," I said, my frustration peeking through without meaning to. "He shouldn't have left you. His job is to be there for his family. That's what family does! There was no way I was going with him, Alicia."
She nodded slowly. "Please, don't go after him. If you go too, I wouldn't know what to do."
Without thinking, I stepped forward and cupped her cheek, forcing her to meet my eyes and see the honesty. "I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you. Okay?"
She nodded, lips curving into a frown, before suddenly pulling me close and hugging me. Her arms wrapped around my neck tightly, not letting go so soon, and I returned the gesture, not quite ready to either.
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21 years old...
Never did I think the Clarks and I would find a place to call home again since we lost our own over two years ago, and yet that's exactly what we'd done. Built a home in the Dell Diamond Baseball Stadium in Texas, of all places.
Sometimes, I could barely believe it was as safe and well-equipped as it was, that we didn't have to worry about infected or rival gangs or anything. We could just live and build a new life in a shared community, and that was enough. Madison had worked extremely hard to make this place what it was, and we'd all worked with her to keep it a safe haven.
Some of the benefits included actually being able to eat a proper breakfast every morning, such as now. I was sat with Nick, who was bugging me and trying to dare me to put chilli powder on my scrambled eggs.
"Nick, please fuck off," I said as politely as I could, making him smirk.
"Buzz kill."
"No, I'm just not five," I said knowingly, looking at him over my coffee cup. "I don't do dares."
"You didn't seem to have that attitude when you dared me to jump in the river the other day," he said with a quirked brow.
I tried not to smile at the memory. "You're the idiot who agreed. Not my fault."
He rolled his eyes playfully as Alicia and Nick's girlfiend, Luciana, approached our table and joined us.
"Nick, are you annoying Y/N again?" Luci asked as she shoved him in the arm slightly. "Leave her alone."
"Unfortunately, he hasn't left me alone since we were kids," I told her before he could answer, making him scoff and Luci smile.
"Good morning," Alicia said, flashing me a smile as she sat beside me with her breakfast tray.
I returned her smile, trying ever so hard to ignore the butterflies I'd felt for her for an embarrassingly long time now. "Morning."
"You still on for the supply run today after lunch?" she asked as she started to dig in to her eggs.
I nodded in agreement. "Definitely."
It was supposed to be her, me and a few other residents, and I always loved going on a supply run. I suppose it helped when my partner was Alicia. What could I say? If you fell in love with someone over the course of your lifetime, it was kind of hard to just get over it.
After enjoying breakfast together, the others went their separate ways whilst Alicia and I stuck to our usual morning routine of doing the rounds around the stadium, checking in on all the different stations. It was the best start to my day, for obvious reasons.
We checked in on the gardens, the greenhouse, the kitchens – everywhere – before reaching the final station, the training area. One of the new residents we'd accepted into the stadium recently, Rick, was stealing the show as he threw knife after knife, hitting every target in the centre like a pro. It would have been impressive if he wasn't so flirty with Alicia since he'd arrived. Unfair of me, I know, but I was allowed to be jealous, surely.
"Wow, someone's been practicing," Alicia commented with an impressed smile once he was done.
He smiled, shrugging. "I've just got good aim."
She shook her head, crossing her arms. "Seriously, Rick, that's so good. Where did you learn?"
"Just comes with time," he admitted in a perfectly polite way, and yet I hated it.
She hummed, glancing around. "You ever thought about teaching it? There's a lot of people here who'd love to learn, I'm sure."
He mirrored her stance, crossing his arms, and met her eyes with mischief. "That depends. Would you be in the class?"
Taken aback, Alicia's cheeks began to turn pink. "I– well– possibly. I could always learn something new."
"Then how could I say no?" he played along with a cheeky smile, checking her out.
I couldn't help the face I pulled as I looked between them both, instantly getting put off. It was hard to tell if Alicia was interested in him, but she was definitely flustered by his obvious flirting and suddenly turned into a blushing mess. Deciding I didn't want to witness it however, I left them to it as they continued chatting and flirting and overall making me regret eating breakfast because I was certain I was gonna vomit.
"Hey, grumpy pants, what's up?" Madison appeared out of nowhere as I walked away, then glanced behind us at Alicia. "New guy'a really taken a liking to Alicia, huh?"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I guess."
Madison raised an eyebrow with amusement. "What? Don't approve?"
Hiding my jealousy the best I could, I shrugged. "It's none of my business."
"Huh, okay," was all she said, hiding a smile, before she asked, "Can you help me with something in the greenhouse? Could use an extra pair of hands."
"Sure thing."
"You sure Alicia won't mind me stealing you?"
I swallowed hard, nodding. "She's a little preoccupied. She won't even notice."
Madison chuckled before patting my back. "Alright, sweetie, c'mon."
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When the cat's away...
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Peter B. Parker x Blackcat!reader
description - Peter B. Parker didn't end up at MJ's house that night. Instead he found his way into the arms of the woman he never thought he could have until the multiverse showed him differently.
Or
Miles shows up to the spider society and finds Peter in the arms of someone who is definitely not MJ
warnings - babies, sexual innuendo, brief angst, SPOILERS for across the spiderverse, Miguel being Miguel.
word count - 1.7k
authors note - I have found a new character to write about! I mean I loved Peter B in Into the Spiderverse but then I recently watched Across the Spiderverse and something about seeing him with Mayday just ignited that love again. Also hears to me finding another cartoon baby to obsess over!
Masterlist
Requests open - here
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
I watched from the rafters. Perched so precise. Peter had promised he wouldn’t take Mayday to work anymore, it wasn’t a safe environment for a child. And since he hadn’t caught me with her at the spider society yet, I still had the moral high ground.
“Don’t be too hard on the kid, Miguel. He had a terrible teacher.” Peter swung in and was wearing…oh god. He’d stolen my robe, again. But I couldn’t be too hard on him, he did look so sexy in it. Just something about seeing him so domestic that really got me going.
Peter and Miles hugged each other, having not seen one another in months. They continually talked over the other, having so much to say, before Miles took note of the baby carrier Peter wore so stylishly. His suspicions were confirmed when Mayday swung into the scene, giggling so beautifully.
“You have a baby?”
“I have a baby!”
“Don’t forget to keep your little day pass on honey.” He then spotted the one Miles sported. “You have one too? I didn’t know they made them for adults?”
I watched her in awe until she latched onto the wall and began to crawl up to where she saw me, babbling ‘mama, mama’. Peter swung after her, moaning about how he shouldn’t have made her that web shooter. We thought it was a good idea at the time!
He put her back in the carrier. “I shouldn’t have made her that, that was an actual parenting mistake.” But because he forgot he was upside down; our little angel fell right out. I giggled to myself just watching the goofball, I got to call my husband.
I squirmed up further into the dark, not wanting Peter to see me just yet. What? I’m a sucker for a dramatic entrance.
“You guys want to see pictures!” That was when I zoned out. I mean I loved Mayday so much and I took a lot of pictures, but my definition of a lot cowered in the face of Peter’s amount of photos. “Oh my god, Miguel’s gonna die!” He swung back over to the stoic fang man, as I liked to call him.
“Miguel, look at this one.”
“I’m trying to hold a serious, adult conversation.” Yet the sight of Mayday crawling all over him whilst babbling nonsense, was a nice juxtaposition to his stern demeanour.
“You’re the only spiderman who isn’t funny, we’re supposed to be funny.” He’s not wrong there, well, at least my spiderman is funny!
“The fate of the multiverse—”
“You always lose me with that. You say the fate of the multiverse and my brain dies.” Miguel handed Mayday back to Peter after she had unceremoniously fallen into his arms whilst Peter was talking.
“You smell that? Mayday took a crap.” Peter swung back to Miles, Gwen and Hobie and made a makeshift changing table out of web.
“So did MJ take you back or?” Miles questioned.
“Well-not exac—” He then smelt Mayday’s diaper. “Yep, she’s a Parker. That’s what happens when a Parker eats an avocado.”
“And yet I still married one.” I attached one of my hooks and allowed myself to be lowered down in front of Miguel’s pretentious staircase.
“Wow.” All 3 teens exclaimed at the same time. I strutted forward clad in my costume. God, it had been a long time since I’d had it on, but it felt so good. It made me feel strong and powerful. Even the ice blonde wig of curls, (that always appeared every time I put on the black cat suit for some reason), fell down my back and flicked with each step. My heeled boots clicked as I walked. Some people *cough Miguel cough* may think they’re impractical for fighting but I guess you just have to be an amazing fighter to pull them off.
“Miles meet my wife, y/n Parker. Or. The Black Cat.”
“Hobie, Gwen, good to see you again. Miles, it’s so great to meet you! Peter talks about you constantly.” I embraced him tightly.
I jumped over to Hobie and spider punk lifted me up into his arms.
“How’s my favourite vigilante!”
“I’m doing good how are you.”
“Still taking a crap on the establishment.”
“I’d like to help you.”
“I will take you up on that.” And he slipped a bunch on junk into my pocket. I didn’t understand but when it came to Hobie, I knew I eventually would.
“I don’t think ‘constantly’ is the most accurate word –“ Peter interrupted. He never liked seeing me with Hobie. He made him insecure, but I would assure him he was cool in his own way.
“Did you or did you not say to me last night ‘I miss Miles so much more with each passing day.’”
“I wouldn’t say in those words—”
“No. those were you’re exact words.” I had walked over to him when I began speaking.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He brought me into him in a bruising kiss.
“I thought you weren’t working today?” As he spoke, Mayday recognised my presence and began to whine loudly for me to pick her up. Which I did happily.
“Well, I woke up and my baby wasn’t in her crib? How weird?” I bounced Mayday up and down in my arms and she shrieked excitedly with each new movement.
“Wait, you’re not a spider-person?” Miles suddenly questioned.
“God no! I couldn’t think of anything wo—” I trailed off when I looked around at the disapproving faces.
“I mean no, I’m a black cat. We’re in every spider’s universe in some respect. In everyone we’re in love with Peter Parker. He only loves us back in a few.” I looked back to find my husband already gazing back at me. Both of us might as well have had little hearts in our eyes.
I unleashed the claws from my gloves. “See, no web. Just claws.” Mayday clapped when I did that. “You like that baby? You like mummy’s powers!” I threw a hook with a line attached to it onto Miguel’s consoles. “But I did have to get these to keep up with you people and your webs.” I swung on the line and dropped gracefully, close to Miguel, just to annoy him.
“Yeah, but those claws are no joke one time we were in the middle of—” “Peter!” I scolded him. Peter then whispered to Miles “I ended up having to get stitches down my back.” Miles grimaced when he realised the context. Miles then continued his previous thought.
“I meant if you’re not a spider-person how did you get a pass? You’re not even a spider and you got a pass before me!”
“I felt with her skills and expertise she would be—”
“Don’t lie Miguel. I stole the bracelet off of you and you can’t get it back from me.”
“It was my choice to let you keep it.” I waited a beat before gesturing to Miles that it really wasn’t.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
 Miguel was explaining canon events to Miles and was showing all the spider-people the most horrific moments from their lives. When the Uncle Ben scene was shown I cradled my husband’s head in my neck to shield him from the other’s eyes. Mayday didn’t understand what was going on but had fallen silent when she had felt the sadness in her father’s body.
I zoned out of Miguel and Miles’ argument. I knew their plan and I knew about Miles. He didn’t deserve this, any of this. He was a good kid; I knew this because Peter told me he was good and I believe him. I focused only on my husband and my daughter. My daughter more so, so she didn’t have to be exposed to the fight that I felt was about to break out.
I bounced Mayday up and down and cooed to her as Peter explained to Miles that if Uncle Ben hadn’t died, many of them would’ve never become who they were meant to be and the lives they had saved would be gone.
Miles began to get more agitated when he realised, they were all asking him to let his father die. I scoffed to myself. They really expected this to work. It was hardly a sound argument.
“You can’t ask me not to save my father.”
“I’m not asking.” Suddenly, Miguel had trapped Miles. Woah. This was too far.
“Miguel that’s not funny! Let him go right now.” I held Mayday into my chest to shield her from her mummy’s harsh words.
“You don’t scare me.”
“I think we both know I do.” He turned away from me. I knew it.
Miles was panicking in the box as the audience around him screamed and argued. I was still holding Mayday as Peter had stern words with Miguel. Hobie winked at me and gestured me to come over. I saw what he was looking at, which were the little sparks coming from Miles’ fingertips. I showed Miles what he was doing wrong and laid my palm flat in front of me, as the other held Mayday’s bum up. Miles righted his hands and the electricity bubbled up. I smirked.
The cage erupted around him. The spider-people began to organise under Miguel’s command to seize Miles. A portal opened up behind Hobie.
“For the record. I quit.” He sauntered in backwards. That was my queue.
“Well, I gotta head.”
“You’re going?” Peter questioned.
“Yeah.”
“So, you just came to annoy Miguel and show Miles how to escape?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“God. I love you so much!” He kissed me hard. I handed Mayday back to her Daddy and she happily complied.
“Get a picture of her first chase?”
“You got it.” He pulled down her knitted spiderman beanie and took off. I opened up another portal.
“DO YOU WANT CHICKEN OR FISH TONIGHT?”
“CHICKEN PLEASE, HONEY!” My husband shouted back as he swung off with my baby in his baby carrier ready to save a 15-year-old spider-kid from a million other spider-people. Because that’s a totally normal sentence to say.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Bit different from my usual stuff but this just randomly popped into my head!
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creamsickle-writes · 2 years
Text
Slip of the Tongue: Roronoa Zoro xF!Reader
Tags: nsfw, hate sex, dirty talk, and vaginal sex
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“You should’ve let me handle it!”
You scowled as you attempted to keep up with the swordsman of your crew. His strides were long as he walked ahead of you. You two always got into fights like this. Zoro always knew just how to get under your skin.
“What? You want me to play the damsel in distress?” You scoffed, storming along in Zoro’s wake.
“That fight was dangerous, you could’ve gotten hurt!” Zoro retorted, finally stopping to turn around and face you. You stared him down, scrunching your nose as you do so. He always did this, he always underestimated your strength. So what if he was stronger than you? You were a capable fighter all on your own! You took personal offense to Zoro’s statement.
“What, do you think I can’t take them myself? Go fuck yourself.”
You two growled at each other, invading each other’s space. As you stared into each other’s eyes, neither one of you backing down, Nami got between you as she walked by.
“Oh my god, get a room already!” Nami sighed exasperatedly.
Your face and Zoro’s went red.
You and Zoro were at a loss for words at Nami’s sentiment. You both blubbered out nonsensical strings of words before you could finally piece sentences together.
“I would never fuck him!”
“And I don’t want to fuck you either!”
But she was already walking away by time you two were able to find your words.
Fucking Zoro… what kind of idiot would want to do that?
——-
The weeks went on and you two had argument after argument, spat after spat. You were getting sick and tired of dealing with Zoro’s nonsense. He was annoying, lazy, and generally an eyesore.
Yet every day you sparred with him.
Today you found yourselves on the beach, training on loose ground made for a good challenge. Everyone else on the crew was asleep in the Thousand Sunny by now.
You both fought hand to hand as Zoro humored you in your training. You two were evenly matched, attacking each other blow for blow. With every kick, he blocked. With every jab, you dodged. It went on like this for awhile.
“What’s wrong, Zoro?” You snarked, “You’re not doing so hot today!”
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up-!”
You threw a punch at Zoro but he caught it with his hand. When you went to swing again, he caught that hand as well. You two were now at a stand still as you tried forcing your knuckles against his.
“Not fair!”
“Aw,” Zoro crowded your space, “You know, just because you’re losing doesn’t mean it’s not fair, brat.”
“Don’t call me that!” You successfully freed yourself from his fists. With that, you landed a kick clean on Zoro’s side. He hardly flinched.
“What? A brat?” He laughed, “Because that’s all you are, a sniveling little brat!”
You growled and charged at him, knocking him onto his back. He grew agitated as you held him down.
“Who’s the brat now?” You smirked, looking down at Zoro, strands of your hair falling in your face.
“Shut your mouth.” He growled out between his teeth.
“Or what, huh? What are you gonna do?”
“Don’t test me.”
“What?” You teased, “Are you gonna punish me?”
His cheeks went pink and you smirked at that reaction.
“C’mon Zoro,” you leaned forward, crowding his space, “Shut me up.”
His lips smashed against yours and your eyes shot wide open. His lips were chapped and his kiss was sloppy but for some reason, you enjoyed it.
Shit, you enjoyed it.
When he pulls away, he smirked at you, “That shut you up.”
You don’t get to think before you grab him by his jacket collar, pulling him in for another kiss. It takes him a moment but Zoro returns your kiss. The whole encounter is frenzied, intense, as if you both wanted this all along.
And perhaps you did.
As you kissed, Zoro had rolled you both over, making it so he was positioned on top of you now. As you both mashed your lips against each other, your hands ran up his chest. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t until he bit your bottom lip that you opened up for him, allowing him to explore the inside of your mouth. Your two tongues battled each other, neither one of you willing to admit defeat. You moaned into his mouth as your tongues slid against each other.
When you parted, you immediately went to pull his jacket off and he let you. Once his jacket wasoff, your eyes latched on to the long scar that spanned from his shoulder to his waist. You looked up at his face to see his brow furrowed, his golden earrings dangling from his ear.
God, he was so hot.
Your thoughts were interrupted as he ripped your shirt clean in half, the cool night air hitting your breasts. You’re about to complain but he’s immediately on your breasts, sucking and pinching at them. You moaned and grabbed his cropped hair, pulling him in even closer. He sucked harshly on your nipple, drawing out moans and groans from your throat.
As he toyed with your breasts, you reach between the two of you, going straight for his crotch. You began rubbing the growing tent in his boxers, making it pitch itself even higher. He groaned against your chest.
“Looks like you’re already hard, Zoro.” You teased, “What, did you get turned on from a fucking kiss?”
Zoro grunted and pulled your hips upwards, pressing his clothed bulge against your pussy.
“So what if I did, huh?”
“Kinda pathetic, don’t you think?” You snarked and Zoro ground his hips into you, causing you to gasp. You gripped his shoulders tight as he continued, moans spilling from your throat. Your stimulated pussy began to grow wet.
“And don’t you think it’s pathetic how you’re moaning for me just because I rubbed up against you?”
“Shut up.” You say, diving in for another kiss. It was heated and intense, your tongues immediately finding each other. They performed an elaborate dance, competing to see who ends up on top.
As your tongues fought, Zoro unbuttoned your pants, tugging them down your thighs. You complied and kicked them off the rest of the way, the garment lost in the sand. But Zoro didn’t have the same type of patience with your panties. He ripped them right down the middle, exposing your puffy lips to the air.
“Shit!” You cursed, “I liked those too!”
“I’ll pay you back later.” Zoro huffed, the issue irrelevant to himself. He positioned you so that your thighs are spread wide, your pussy exposed completely to him.
He was quick to work himself out of his green haramaki and dark pants. You looked him over and your eyes instantly widened. You licked your lips, he was massive. His cock was lengthy, thick too, with a prominent vein along the underside.
The man grounded his feet in the sand, kneeling above you, before slamming in, causing you to squeal.
His pace is firm right off the bat, fucking you with the intent of making you scream. You tried to find purchase in the sand, but the loose particles simply slipped through your fingers. You moaned as his hips slammed into yours, he felt so good inside you. You gripped his back, digging your nails into his muscular back.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He groaned, fucking into you, “All this just because I was a little rough with you. What a whore.”
“Fuck you.”
Zoro laughed as his hips slammed into you. Your body began to heat up as you felt your pleasure overwhelm you. It felt so intense, so good, as Zoro’s swollen head rammed against your cervix.
“C’mon,” Zoro growled, “You love this. Admit it.”
“Meh,” You smirked, “I bet Sanji could fuck me better.”
His hips still and suddenly you felt as though you made a mistake.
“What did you just say?”
You swallowed, your voice going shaky, “Y-You heard me! He would probably- hey-!”
Zoro took your legs and pushed them as far as possible, the tops of your thighs touching your breasts. He immediately slammed in, his cock going much deeper than it did before. You see stars when he penetrates you.
“Say that again!” Zoro growled, his hips forcibly slapping against you, “Say that stupid cook could fuck you better again!”
“I’m sorry!” You choked out, barely able to get your words out as Zoro fucked you so aggressively. Amongst the waves you could hear the slapping of skin against skin as Zoro punished you for speaking out of turn. Your eyes rolled back, it felt so incredible.
“That’s right.” He snarled, “Who’s the only one who can fuck you this good, huh?”
“Zoro!”
“Good girl-!” It comes from the back of his throat as he pumps himself inside you.
You reached for his back, dragging your nails along the exposed skin. As his hips moved, they began to grow frantic, his pace becoming uneven. As he desperately mashed his hips against yours, he pressed his forehead against your own.
“Shit, I fucking love you-!”
Your heart skipped a beat and before you can say a thing, he’s cumming deep within you. You moaned as he filled you up, your toes curling as he did so. You pant out as he pulls away, his thumb now toying with your clit as he fucks his cum into you.
You rolled your eyes back as your pleasure continued building within you. Your back arched off the sandy beach floor, the waves lapping on the shore. You came as he continued circling your clit, juices oozing out of your pussy.
You’re left panting, your hand on your chest as you attempt to catch your breath. Zoro flopped next to you, staring up at the night sky.
You both sat in silence as the realization of what you did dawned on you both. You’re the first to speak.
“So,” you smirked, “You love me, huh?”
Zoro turned bright red.
“Don’t let it go to your head, brat.”
And with that, he flicked your forehead.
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allbark-no-bite · 1 year
Text
Sit Still || Elvis Presley x reader
summary: you wonder how Priscilla was ever able to give up Elvis, because he’s got you falling apart on his fingers. literally
warnings: 18+ smut, it’s pretty filthy
word count: 3k
author’s note: thank you all so much for 300 followers. all of the love i’ve received is incredible and i love each and every one of you. please, send requests!
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I lose Elvis in a whirl storm of guests and reporters, the Colonel parading him this way and that to shake hands and smile for photos. He had kept a close eye on me for a while, holding me to his side with an arm around my waist, pressing proud kisses to my hairline whenever anyone asked after me. But as the night wore on, I'd begun to linger behind more and more until the Colonel had finally urged him away from my side, dragging him to the next throng of cameras to be shoved in his face. Though reluctant to let go of me, I'd pressed him on, saying I would be just fine on my own for a while. Which was true, I was more than happy to watch him, all bright and brilliant smiles as he greeted those that he needed to and graced others with his presence.
I smile quietly to myself when Elvis lets out a hearty laugh from across the conference room, his eyes sparkling as he firmly grasps another man's hand. It was obvious to anyone that he was made for this life and all of it's glamour. It was likely that he hardly even noticed the lack of my presence after a few moments, too immersed in the bustle of what the Colonel like to call 'snow business'.
Now alone, I am finally able to breathe. Though I enjoyed the privileges that came along with being the girl on Elvis' arm, at the end of the day, I was not made for mingling with wealthy men, smiling, and carrying on small talk and nonsensical conversations for hours on end. It was truthfully exhausting and overwhelming.
"It gets easier, you know. You do get used to it."
I turn in surprise, looking to my side, not having expected to be spoken to. Of course, I knew that I wasn't alone in a room that was already full, but typically without Elvis by my side, I could usually get a moment or two of peace.
Priscilla smiles faintly at me in amusement, speaking again in her usual gentle manner. I'd never heard her speak louder than a soft murmur, and the delicacy fit every bit of her timid personality. "You're doing well though. Not many ladies can have such class."
Adorned in a elegant baby blue pant suit, the young woman is standing just a few feet away, as though undecided on whether or not she was going to approach me. I relax my shoulders, emitting a relieved chuckle at her compliment.
"I have big shoes to fill," I admit.
At my openness, Priscilla takes the unspoken invitation to join me, and we stand together, surveying the room. "I think you're doing just fine."
Now that we're shoulder to shoulder, I look over at her. I had only ever met Priscilla a handful of times. Most of them were because of Lisa, for holidays, but she'd been pleasant company each time. Her once jet black hair is now a fair brown, and her makeup light and natural looking—my own hair is long and dark, much longer than it's ever been, and my eyes are accentuated by thick strokes of eyeliner and dramatically applied smokey eyeshadow. She's possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life, but just from the few moments in passing that I had spoken to her, it was obvious that it was her wonderful personality that Elvis had once fallen in love with.
We stand together quietly for a while, watching Elvis and his entourage from across the room. There's a cluster of young girls about him, all abiding for a second of his attention, and he gladly entertains their antics, tugging them close for photos and charming them with his smooth southern drawl. That was something I was still getting used to. There would always be girls. I just had to trust I was the only one.
Priscilla follows my gaze. There's a sort of sad smile on her face. "If you can take the heartache, he's worth it... But you know that," she relents.
I nod and bite the inside of my lip, willing away the surge of hurt and bitter feeling of betrayal that threatens to resurface. Because I know he is worth it despite all of his flaws and the hell he's put me through.
"He was the most fun I ever had," she says fondly.
Although her comment is nothing shocking—I was aware that there would always be unresolved feeling between them—it still sparks another inkling within me, one that I have shoved away many times. It was beyond me how Priscilla had seemingly managed to give him up so entirely. Elvis had consumed every part of my life, so much to the point that I knew it would be impossible to ever rid myself of him completely. And so a part of me still wondered if she was fooling all of us. Priscilla knew how to play a part, that I was certain of.
"He's doing okay now," I blurt out, having felt the need to say it, but instantly regret the words when they come out my mouth. "I–I mean just that he's gettin' better, you know... He's off the pills—for the most part... He's happy," I manage to conclude.
Priscilla just smiles warmly at me, that sad, distant look in her eyes. "I know... Good for you," she says softly, and it sounds genuine. Regretful, but genuine.
We lapse into heavy silence again. We're quite the pair, the two of us. The only women who had ever successfully captured Elvis Presley's heart.
The night goes on around us, but the animated and lively ambience of the room never dies down. At some point, well past midnight, Elvis manages to finagle his way out of any more politicking and makes his way over to me and Priscilla. There's a cheerful smile on his face, which only brightens when he spots Priscilla standing beside me.
"Cilla!" he exclaims while wrapping an arm around my waist, effectively pulling me to his side, and leans over to greet her. Priscilla graciously offers him her cheek to kiss, and he does so in stride. "The two of you girls aren't causing any trouble now?"
Priscilla smiles tightly after he's pulled away, her hands clasped together neatly in front of her. "No, just chatting. [Y/n] is wonderful company."
Looking down at me and then back to Priscilla, Elvis squeezes my hip affectionately. "The boys and I are about to sit down for a drink. Why don't ya join us, Cilla?"
I'm sure that at some point in her life, if Elvis had smiled at her like that, Priscilla wouldn't have been able to tell him no. But those days were in the past.
"Oh, I really can't stay. I left Lisa with the sitter, and I need to get home," she explains. "It was good seeing you, Elvis." Priscilla places a delicately manicured hand on my arm. "You too, [Y/n]." And then she's gone, leaving Elvis and I to ourselves.
The moment Priscilla is out of sight, Elvis is all over me, hands on my hips, cupping my cheeks and kissing me sweetly over and over again. "Been missin' ya all night, sweetness. The Colonel had me rubbin' shoulders with all the big names from the press, and all I could think about was you and this little skirt," he says.
I laugh, happily accepting his sudden onslaught of attention. Elvis had always been like this since we started dating, extremely touchy and affectionate, even in public. It didn't matter who was watching, he wasn't going to hesitate to slide his hand down to cup my ass in front of anyone, especially not at his own party.
"Well now I'm all yours," I promise, kissing his full lips once more.
He hums, chasing after my lips even after I pull away. This time I'm not quick enough, and he catches my bottom lip gently between his teeth, pulling me back in for another long kiss. I swallow back a groan. I'm sure people are staring at this point. That kiss seems to satisfy him enough, and so before it gets out of hand, he draws away, leaving my cheeks flushed.
I whine. "Elvis—"
"EP! C'mon, we've been waitin' on you for ages," Jerry calls from his spot at a large round table, one specifically reserved for Elvis and his entourage. Sonny and Red are kicked back around the table as well, which is situated in one of the further corners of the room, allowing for as much privacy as possible in the crowded space. It was often customary for Elvis to take to his inner circle at the end of the night, settle down and enjoy a cigar since he didn't drink himself. However, tonight, I was growing impatient having to share my boyfriend.
I whine when Elvis' large hand presses on my back to guide me towards the table. He stops in his tracks, laughing when he looks back at me. "What's gotten into you?" he grins. After taking in my flushed cheeks and pouted lip, his grin only grows. "Lord. Baby, don't you go lookin' at me like that. It'll do things to a man."
I crinkle my nose, jutting out my lip even more. I don't even have to say anything, he knows exactly what that look means. And the effect it's having on him is obvious. Elvis groans softly in his throat, readjusting the fit of his trousers. He eyes me and then the table. "Baby, please. Can't ya wait jus a lil' while longer?"
With the eyes of the Mafia still on us, I decide it best not to make a scene. Begrudgingly, I sigh and allow Elvis to lead me over to the table. As we approach, Red stands up, excusing himself to free up a second chair. I take the seat beside Elvis, smiling politely at Jerry and Sonny. I had come to love the men of the Mafia, they were like family to Elvis. And because I was Elvis' girl, they cared for me just as much. They learned to read me and my moods just as they did with Elvis, and  tonight they could tell that I was, in fact, not in the mood. Therefore, tonight, they keep most of their conversations directed towards Elvis.
The men's amiable chatter drags on for close to an hour, occasionally rising to an unreasonably loud volume when they roar with laughter. Chin rested against my palm, I listen with mild disinterest. Another ten minutes passes by until I decide that I have been patient long enough. Discreetly under the table, I nudge Elvis' calf with my foot, trying to get his attention. When he moves it way, unaware of my intentions, I huff to myself. Similarly, he's too caught up in his conversation with Sonny to notice when I kicked my shoe off. While keeping a bored face, I slide my toes up the inside of one of his spread thighs, stopping when I reach his crotch. That gets his attention.
Grunting at the contact, Elvis has to maintain his conversation in order to play it off. His hand grabs my foot under the table, squeezing it as if to say, 'behave'. Slightly vexed, I tug my foot back and he releases it. I wait for their conversation to mull on a while longer before I try again.
This time, Elvis doesn't release my foot. Instead, he scoots out his chair and turns to me. "On my lap, baby doll," he instructs. "And sit still."
Immediately subdued by his outright admonishment, I remain sat in my chair, my cheeks flushed an embarrassed pink. "I didn't—"
Elvis raises a brow at me. Jerry and Sonny exchange amused looks. When I realize that he's not giving in, I quietly get up and smooth out my velvet skirt, situating myself on his lap. With me now straddling his thigh, Elvis returns to the conversation.
"Now, as I was sayin', boys..."
Their conversation drags on for another half hour; however, my previous boredom has evaporated into heart-racing arousal. Elvis' free hand had disappeared under the table and my skirt a while ago and is currently toying with the fabric of my panties. Every so often his thumb will rub along the thin cotton, the contact just enough to send arousal pooling to my panties. The game he's playing is torturous.
My body tenses when he grazes the edge of my panties. Immediately, Elvis pulls away.
Instead his arms stretch out to either side of my body, and he clasps his hands around the edges of the table, caging me in like a feeble rabbit, it's tiny heart racing in the face of an unknown and impending doom. My body is a paradox within itself, both frozen with mortification and yet so hot to the touch with arousal that I'm sure I appear feverish.
His drawling voice is just beside my head. "Thought, I asked ya to sit still?"
Through the cloudy haze of my desperation, I can hardly answer. I make eye contact with the two men sitting across from us. Jerry slides back in his seat, cigar dangling from his fingertips as he watches us. His legs are spread wide, becoming comfortable as he settles in to enjoy the show. "Aw c'mon now, EP. Don' tease her."
Sonny has taken on a similar position, lounging back lazily as he plumes smoke from his mouth. He just chuckles and waves his hand as to ward Jerry off, well aware of Elvis' antics. "Eh," he mumbles from behind his cigar. "Leave 'em be."
Elvis nuzzles his nose into the space just behind my ear. His slightly parted mouth breathes out, washing over the tender skin at the crook of my neck. "Look at you now, sittin' all pretty fo' me," he croons sweetly. I imagine that his hooded eyes are partially closed with what can only be described as a look of nothing but pure, lust filled intoxication. "You don't mind, do you, darlin'? Sittin' here while we talk?"
I can barely swallow, my tongue heavy in my dry mouth. My mind is foggy, any coherent thought I'd ever had lost within a thick cloud of fog. There's nothing but my body, hot with arousal, and Elvis all over me. Everything else, the buzz of people surrounding us, a distant murmur. Somehow, while my head is swimming farther and farther away, my blown pupils lock with Priscilla's.
She's standing at a distance across the room, hidden amongst the chatter of people, watching the whole debacle unfold in Elvis' hands. Her hand is frozen around the door handle, obviously on her way out. Her gorgeous blue eyes hold mine as I struggle to keep hold of myself. Something in me panics, worried about what she might think, but I find nothing sinister nor judgmental in her stare as I first would have expected. All I gather is that of sadness and pity.
And that is when I finally see it all at her level. I finally get it. Because she got it. She understood what it was like to love Elvis Presley.
Even as Elvis' ex wife, Priscilla had expressed nothing but respect and well wishes for both Elvis and myself. At first, I had expected some resentment from her on my behalf. Because even though she had been the one to end things between them, it must have been undoubtedly hard to give him up. But she did. And that was the one thing that I had never understood. Until now. Even after all the hell he had put her through, she would always love him. Because Elvis was like a drug, all consuming and addicting. And Priscilla had decided to give him up before it killed her.
Now, this was her looking into a mirror and finding me in her same position. Priscilla could never bring herself to hate me because she was me—had been me. She was once the shy eighteen year old sitting on his lap, suffocating in his love. Her unwavering stare holds me captive until finally I have to looked away.
"Huh, darlin'?" Elvis hums against my ear, and bounces his knee, as though prompting me to speak. A whimper escapes my throat as the fabric of his trousers rubs just the right way between my legs. I must have missed the question because the two men across from us are looking at me expectantly with amused smirks on their faces. Although they many not know exactly what is going on under the table, they know Elvis is being a tease.
I nod and hope that it's an appropriate enough response. Sonny chuckles behind his cigar, but it must be the right answer because the mens' attention returns to talking. I sink back in relief.
"El," I whine.
Finally taking pity on me, Elvis lovingly kisses the shell of my ear. "Wanna come on my fingers?" he asks with a soft chuckle. Flushed, I nod. Under his breath, he groans something along the lines of, “God, you little minx...”
With Jerry and Sonny lost in their own conversation across the table, Elvis slips his hand back underneath my skirt and pulls aside my panties. I bite my lip to prevent a strangled moan from escaping me as his two fingers slide through my wetness, and he pushes them inside me without hesitation. While I attempt to pull myself together, Elvis is content to puff at his cigar, half listening to Jerry across the table. After a while, his patience becomes comically unbearable. I clench around him. Without warning, his fingers curl to stroke my velvet walls, and my legs tremble around his thick thigh.
When I lean back against his chest, unable to hold myself up any longer, the position gives Elvis just the right angle, and his fingers slide deeper than before. Although my body is too weary to even bother with a reaction, he knows he's found just the right spot, and continues the ministration of his fingers.
I can feel my arousal dripping down my leg, and I know it's making a mess on his black pants; though I doubt Elvis could care less about that. While I'm struggling to remain coherent with each stroke of his large fingers, Elvis is leisurely enjoying his cigar. Only his soft and mumbled praises reveal his mind is elsewhere. “So good… Fuck, baby.”
Another slow drag of his fingers, and the contrasting coolness of his rings sends me tumbling through an orgasm. He pulls me through it, still rubbing my walls through the aftershocks. Now overly sensitive, I almost cry at the stimulation.
Jerry eyes us from across the table, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Ya okay there, [Y/n]?”
Thankfully, Elvis pulls his fingers away.
“Oh! Yes, I’m fine, Jerry. Just a little tired is all,” I answer with a soft smile, thinking I’ve reassured him. Behind me, Elvis is sliding his fingers out of his mouth with a pop.
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maaarshieee · 1 year
Note
Is it possible could you write
Pantalone x reader
Where the reader is very calm and polite, but looses their cool one day and out of anger they punch the wall and hurt themselves. And blood is on their knuckles?
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⎯⎯ ୨ Losing Cool ୧ ⎯⎯
ੈ♡˳ Pantalone x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ 0.9k words ┊ Hurt/comfort-ish *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄
author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
mayhaps projected in this... i pride myself into having good patience but when shit gets too tough i just,, 💥, ty for requesting this anon!! have a good day/night! i think this was kinda bad but i promise ill do better at other fics BYE DAHDSAHD
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, self inflicted injury (unintentional), blood
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Blood dripped down your cracked knuckles as you stares down at the soldier before you. Face engulfed with unfamiliar frostiness, darkness overshadowed your features, only further accentuating the overwhelming rage swirling inside of you. Pulling away your first from the crater you've created, sparing a nonchalant glance at your bleeding wound before further instilling shock to the people present inside the room with the sharp words that pierce through the silence like a blade. 
"Just how stupid can you be to fail such trivial tasks?" Spat by you with such a venomous tone, the words you spoke emphasizing your immense disappointment and rage. "Useless! All of you! I should just kill you where you stand!" The soldiers that knelt before you trembled, eyes darting towards the other Harbingers for help, but they merely ignored them, too amused, too entertained by your uncharacteristic lashing. They just had to report right before the meeting and worsen your already ruined mood. 
Pantalone, for one, was concerned for you. He has never seen you so enraged before. It was as if all the frustration you'd bottled inside your heart finally exploded at this moment, and without a proper outlet, you'd ultimately hurt yourself by punching the wall. Pantalone had noticed that for the past few days, you'd grown quiet and stiff, a twitch on your brow here and there, but he never thought it meant anything else other than stress. For you've always handled situations better than anyone, ever so gentle towards the people working under you and keen on giving them a second chance. Other Harbingers often called you out for being too soft, but you were the complete opposite of their former image of you right at this moment. 
Once you dismissed them, Pierro finally entered the room. All the Harbingers stood, waiting for Pierro to speak and commence today's meeting. Though Pantalone could give less a damn about the meeting, his eyes glued to your bruised, bleeding hand. You didn't give it much concern, but Pantalone has been itching to care for it, to clean the blood dripping down your hand and onto the table, to wrap it in bandages and kiss the aching pain away. 
When your eyes met, he saw your idle anger quickly dissipate into nothing and turn into guilt, and when you clenched your hand into a fist, you winced. It was as if the pain finally processed to your brain and only now you're aware of what had happened, glancing at the crater you'd punched onto the wall. The fact that these meetings usually took hours didn't quell any of Pantalone's worries and by the time the meeting has ended, you could barely feel your hand through the tingling sensations, and the blood as been dried onto your skin.
Pantalone wiped off the blood that caked your knuckles and your fingers with a wet piece of cloth, paying no attention to how his gloves were beginning to soak despite you insisting that you could clean it yourself. "Nonsense," He huffed through his nose, brows creased ever so slightly as he began to patch up knuckles, relieved nothing was broken. "Am I not allowed to care for my darling?" You flushed at the pet name, rubbing the back of your neck as you shook your head.
"No, but you don't have to dirty your hands for me..." You tried once more, wriggling your hand away from his, but you only hissed at the pain that struck your knuckles, and Pantalone huffed at your stubbornness, finally finishing up patching your hand up. "There, avoid using this hand too much."
Slipping off his gloves, his hands reached up to your face and cupped your cheeks, letting you lean against his touch as he pulled you close. He pressed his forehead against yours, your uninjured hand resting on his hip as his fingers caressed your face, a small smile on his lips. "Next time, please don't bottle up your emotions for too long, or something like this will happen..." Feeling you nod against him, he continued, "At least let it be in a different way if you don't want to talk about it..."
You raised a brow at his suggestion, your hand reaching to his back, nails grazing up to his spine and playing at the ends of his hair, leaning back to press a kiss onto his cheek. "How so?"
At that, Pantalone smiled widely, pulling away from you and taking both your hands into his, "Let's go shopping." You could only roll your eyes at his words, suppressing back a smile. "That's just an excuse to spoil me, dear." But Pantalone didn't let up, a pout now protruding from his bottom lip.
"But it would help you forget your worries, even for a single moment." He pleaded, tilting his head to the side, his eyes glittering as he placed kisses on your knuckles. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you half-heartedly glared at Pantalone and his ways of persuading you, but you could only sigh and give in. "I suppose you're right..."
Pantalone visibly brightened and stood up, lacing his arm around yours as he walked you towards your shared private chambers to get you dressed, listing down multiple stores he's been dying to bring you to, and all the things he wanted to buy for you. With a smile on your face, you listened to him with a nod of your head, the ache of your injured hand long forgotten.
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jitterbugjive · 1 month
Text
I hate that people can easily find the stupid and shitty things I said and did over 5 years ago and jump to the conclusion that that's who I am, and there's no easy way for anyone to see all the efforts I've been making since then to NOT be that person. It's hard to find all my apologies and explanations because I didn't tag them all properly. I've tried time and time again to explain that I was mimicking the behavior bad adults gave me when I was growing up and that no one really called me out on that behavior until it was too late. I've tried to explain that since then I've been going through extensive therapy to separate bad learned behavior from who I want to actually be. There's so much more to this whole story than what one small chunk of the internet is making it out to be. People who actually know me know that this has been eating me up constantly and that I am always living in fear of losing everything to this drama.
especially since some of that info takes quotes out of context, jumps to conclusions that aren't true, or flat out lies about what certain artworks are depicting or meaning to convey (Like claiming a grown ass adult is a child even tho I have proof the character looks totally different as an adult than as a child, or claiming that a shock piece meant to make people reel back in horror was a fetish when it was not at all that)
It takes clips of things without the full picture and puts words in my mouth.
Here's a little something about how I used to talk about sore subjects: I would make a controversial sounding statement, but then I would explain myself in a way that would show the statement wasn't as bad as I was making it out to be. A lot of the time they just take that bad statement and paste it for the world to see, without giving any of that context of me explaining why I said that and why it's not what it sounds like.
I wish people were smart enough to spot cherry picking when they see it, but they just aren't. They'll see one sentence, and someone saying "look they're supporting this bad thing" and that's all they need to think that's what it is. People aren't smart enough to really ask questions and try to understand a situation, all they want is face value to tell them how to think and feel.
People aren't going to bother to listen to me because I'm "the bad guy" and I'll "say anything to cover my ass".
Listen, if I was really that horrible of a person, don't you think there would be more evidence out there that is very clear and blunt and not just making assumptions on what a thing means?
I'm never gonna sit here and say what I said and did wasn't wrong, it was, but it was not done because I was trying to be a terrible person or prey on anyone. It was because I was insanely misguided by someone who groomed me for 5 years since childhood and then abused me for another 3 in a really toxic relationship. And then I never got HELP for it, I never got therapy to cope with it, I never even realized until way later that 'holy shit this person was 7 years older than me and was taking advantage of me the whole time'. Like I knew they were abusive but adults being friends with children was so normalized in my head, and throughout my life many adults or older kids exposed me to things I shouldn't have been and it skewed in my head what was appropriate behavior or not. Or what was okay to draw or not. And a lot of my opinions were formed around this adult who convinced me things like loli/shota were fine as long as they were strictly made up, and he fed me a lot of nonsense about what does and doesn't make a predator to cover his own ass. I was seriously fucked up almost beyond repair for a long time.
I have a warning on my blog now that minors shouldn't be following me, I make it a point to not ever work with minors on projects or talk to a minor in any capacity beyond a fan to artist relationship. I understand now that it is my responsibility as a NSFW artist that I simply cannot have minors as friends. And being much older now I don't even want minors as friends anyway. When I was in my early 20s the age gap didn't feel as bad but I'm definitely feeling it now and I just don't want to deal with minors any more.
I'm not a danger to anyone, I'm not spewing apologetics for horrible people, I've been doing my best to be a much better and more informed person
And I have no easy way to prove any of it in a way that will matter
I'm only talking about this now because once again I was kicked out of something because someone found that old info and that was all it took. No one cares about my side of things.
And I don't know if this will ever go away
I don't know if I'll ever find any amount of comfortable success because I can't get rid of this shit and on the internet it doesn't matter how long ago you did something or how much you've changed, you did it and therefor you're bad forever.
I hate this shit so much.
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cowboybeepboop · 2 years
Text
You look good in yellow
Request: Bob smut where hangman is saying you only hangout with him because you pity him, that bobs crush on you is pointless because hangman already fucked you dirty and hard while you were wearing his favorite yellow shirt.
“Hangman was right about one thing,” “You look good in yellow, especially when you’re fucked out of your mind”
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Pairing: Bob x fem! Reader
Genre: Porn with a plot
Warnings: p in v sex, SMUT, oral fem recieving, oral male recieving, slight hair pulling, praise kink, multiple orgasms, cursing
Word count: 2735
Summary: Hangman decides to be annoying because he’s sick and tired of watching Bob stare at you with hearts in his eyes and you subtly flirt with him.
a/n: I don’t proofread before uploading because it makes me jinx myself lol also I didn’t give the reader a call sign, you can come up with one if you want or just read it the way you would any other oneshot. Also I lost my old account so I’m reposting 😭
You and Bob are sitting eating peanuts while the other recruits talk nonsense and play pool together, Coyote makes his way over to the pool table with a blond and a brunette with a buzz cut. “Hey, Coyote!” you make your way to his side and wrap your arms around his neck.
“Hey, how are you Y/N?” he replies, snaking his hands around your waist pulling you against him.
“I’m doing okay, what about you” you hum against his neck before turning back to Bob who’s attempting to play pool with Phoenix, before Hangman steals away the stick.
“I’m fine, why do you think they called us all here?” he questions as you pull out a stool sitting down.
“Not sure, must be something important for them to call all the best of the best out here,” you shrug, letting your eyes wander to the breathtaking man you’ve been thirsting over for years at this point.
__________
Bob and you have worked together many times before, the two of you work well together and are great at what you do. But now he’s paired with Phoenix and you’re paired with Fanboy, this shouldn’t frustrate you as much as it did. You know that you can’t always get your way and that your job requires you to work with other people meaning you can’t be paired with Bob all the time. But. It kills you to see him smile at her, how his eyes light up when they talk, how he pinches his suit when she gets him flustered. That should be you, you can’t help but think how she stole your place next to him.
A soft sigh leaves your lips as Hangman positions himself between your legs where you’re sitting on the picnic table at the beach. The game had died down long ago and now you’re all just talking and sharing stories. He gives you one of his signature smiles and extends his hand with Bob’s crumpled up shirt, offering it to you.
“What’s this for? Wasn’t Bob using this?” you question while looking up at his soft green eyes.
“Yeah, I noticed you were cold so, I asked him for it,” Hangman was lying, he was just trying to get into your bikini bottoms, but you ignored this and lifted your arms up, like a child, allowing him to put it over you.
Hangman flashes his pearly whites while pulling the soft yellow fabric over your upper body, lightly squeezing your waist after his hands brushed over the sides of your breasts. Phoenix directed Bob’s attention over to the pair of you, he could feel his heart drop to his stomach.
He was going to take his shirt over to you but Hangman insisted on bringing it to you for him, he should have put up more of a fight because now he might just lose any chance he might have had with you.
Phoenix gives him a small smile before whispering, “Bob, she doesn't seem all too interested with him,” he nods his head.
“Yeah, it’s probably nothing,” his heart still aches while he looks at you longingly.
__________
Hangman insists on walking you back to your room on base, he continues to insist that he should stay and talk to you. You used to think that Hangman was just a jerk who would do whatever just to get what he wants, but now, with him laying on your bed telling you of a brilliant plan to get you and Bob together. He isn’t as bad as you previously thought.
You jolt awake sitting up quickly, “Shit, Hangman, wake the fuck up,” you shake his shoulder roughly.
“What,” he rubs the tiredness from his eyes, “why are you so freaked out?” he sits up from his position at the foot of your bed.
“You slept over, we have to be with Maverick in like 5 minutes,” you hop out of bed quickly going to put your uniform on he follows behind you fixing his hair, the two of you sneak off into Hangman's room, which is just right next door. You quickly fix your hair and wash your face as he gets dressed.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Maverick scolds you and Hangman for your tardiness, while Coyote and Fanboy snicker to themselves at your disheveled appearances, you make eye contact with the tall blond at your side and a deep blush paints your neck and cheeks.
__________
After the long day the team decided to go out for drinks at Penny's bar, per usual. You’ve been sticking to Coyote's side the whole day in order to avoid Fanboy’s accusatory remarks . Hangman finds his way over to the pool table where Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, and Fanboy are playing.
“So,” Fanboy raises his eyebrows, “what was up with you and Y/N showing up late, together, looking like you barely slept a wink,” he smiles while hitting a ball.
“Oh, well, we had a long day,” Hangman beams, while looking over at Bob, “what's with the sad face Bobby boy?” he smirks, checking you out where you stand by the jukebox talking with Coyote.
“Hangman, stop it,” Phoenix glares at him.
“Oh, yeah, thanks again for the shirt. You know, yellow looks great on her when she’s fucked out of her mind,” he laughs.
Bob feels his heart clench while he looks over at you, he rushes out of the bar trying to get a breath of fresh air. You look over at the spot where Bob previously stood, making your way over with furrowed brows. “What did you say to him?” you question Hangman with narrowed eyes.
“Oh, just that I fucked you senseless in his shirt last night,” his smile falters a bit.
“What the fuck?” you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest, “I thought we had a connection, I thought we were friends?” you huff out.
“Y/N it was a lie, you know that. I just wanted to give him an extra push, although he didn’t respond the way I thought he would..” his voice trails off while you sigh.
“Hangman, you’re such an idiot.” you walk out of the bar with a mission to find Bob and tell him the truth. Bob had chugged a couple beers provided by one of the bartenders, he was a bit tipsy when you got to him.
“Hey, Bobby?” you kneel in front of him cupping his cheeks with your hands, “Are you alright?”. He peers at you through foggy lenses, his hands finding their way to your back and cheek.
“Is it true?,” you hum in response, speechless from the way he was staring at you. “Is it true that you slept with Hangman?” His eyes are trained on the ground.
“No, no. Nothing happened with Jake,” you kiss the tip of his nose causing him to look into your eyes, “Bob, I like you, not Seresin..” you bite your lip softly. He pulls you flush against his upper body, attacking your lips with passion. His hands find their way to your ass, he squeezes it softly while pulling you onto his lap.
“Y/N, I’ve been dreaming of this forever,” he groans into your neck as you grind your hips against his.
“Shit, Bob.. I want you,” your arms wrap around his neck as he presses soft kisses all over your neck.
“O-okay,” he stutters softly, picking you up and carrying you to his car. You scramble to get into the seat, he closes the door behind you getting into his seat, his hands shake as he tries to start the car. The whole car ride Bob kept his hand on your upper thigh, squeezing his fingers into the plush skin.
Once you get back to the base he picks you up bridal style, you kiss his neck sloppily as he tries to get into your room. He places you down gently and begins to undress you with careful hands, admiring your flushed skin as you arch up into his fingers.
“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs out before kissing you passionately, pushing him on his back so you can straddle his hips you start removing his clothes. He gains a certain kind of confidence having you under him, looking flustered and needy. His hands wander all over your naked body, coming to the hole that was clenching around just air, his fingers run through the folds spreading your wetness.
“Fuck,” you moan out as he rubs circles around your clit, your hands flush against his chest while he watches your pleasured expression. You reach behind you grasping his hardened dick, slowly pumping up and down, he moans softly and pulls your hips over his face.
“Y/N I want to taste you, is that okay?” you roughly bite on your cheek as you nod your head rapidly, he smiles softly. You whine quietly as he pulls your hips against his lips, he sucks your clit, using his thumbs to spread your pussy, your fingers interlock in his soft brown locks. He inserts his index finger, you moan loudly in response clenching tightly around his finger while your back arches.
His tongue flicks against your sweet spot, he pulls your hips down further, inserting a second finger. He finger fucks you keeping his gaze on your closed eyes, you can feel the familiar itch coming, your clit becoming achingly sore.
“Fuck fuck fuck Bob I’m going to cum soon,” you moan loudly, nails digging into his shoulders as your arms begin to shake.
“Good girl, you’re so good for me,” he moves so his tongue is deep inside your hole, clenching around his tongue as his nose rubs into your clit roughly. One hand moves to your thigh rubbing circles into your skin, the other moving against your bundle of nerves to help further your orgasm.
You grasp his forearm as your entire body shakes, your orgasm overwhelming you, arching your back as loud moans spill from your chapped lips. He locks his arms around your thighs keeping your hips flush against his lips.
Bob starts to grind your hips down on his face causing you to become even more sensitive, your hands support your body by grasping onto his sides. He pulls back, setting you back on his stomach, his hand moves up to your cheek, rubbing your cheekbone gently. “My beautiful girl, you did so well for me,” he coos whilst kissing your thighs. You move between Bob’s thighs grabbing ahold of his throbbing dick, you lick a stripe from the base all the way to the tip.
He groans loudly grabbing a handful of your hair, “good girl,” he moans out, you feel yourself getting wet again at his praise. You wrap your lips around his tip swirling your tongue around the underside of it, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. His harmonious moans fill the room as you slowly start pumping his dick, choking softly when the tip pushes against your tonsils.
His hand pulls at the roots of your hair, tugging softly as you continue bobbing your head up and down, you look up at him causing him to whine a bit. He bucks his hips up into your mouth, biting down on his lip, he pulls you off his dick. Bob sets you on his stomach again, he uses one hand to wipe the saliva from your lips the other hand rests on the curve of your back.
You lean off to the side opening up your bedside tables drawer grabbing out a condom, you rip it open with your teeth and give Bob’s dick a couple pumps before sliding it on. Over the tip and down to the base, you line yourself up with the tip and slowly sink down once he bottoms out in you, your hands find his chest squeezing down.
As you begin to adjust to Bob’s size he changes the position, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he sits on his knees. You nearly burst at the new position as his tip pushes deep against your sweet spot, your nails dig into his thighs as your body arches into him.
A warm feeling spreads in your chest as he starts to move achingly slow, his thumb moves to your bundle of nerves rubbing deep and lazy circles onto it. You push your hips down trying to get more movement, he smiles, “Do you need more, my pretty girl? Should I go faster for you, hm?”. You nod your head hastily, Bob pushes his hips into you with a newfound speed, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills your room.
You scratch into Bob’s thighs as he presses into the deepest part of your pussy, his eyes are glued to where your bodies connect. He feels a tightness in his stomach “Shit, Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” his finger swirls around your sensitive nub with a certain roughness that wasn’t previously there.
You bite your lip, too fucked out to respond further, his warm cum spills into the condom while he moans into your neck. He continues to thrust into you becoming hard again, “Do you have another one?” he gives you a sheepish smile.
“Yeah, top drawer in the first aid box,” you watch as he ties off the end with careful fingers throwing it off to the side before slipping the new one on, he pushes his glasses up with his forefingers. He comes back to his spot between your legs, sinking back into your tightness, this time he keeps your back against the bed, your hands finding their way to his back.
Squeezing your fingers into the defined muscles on his back as he builds up to his previous pace, his thumb going back to your swollen clit pulling needy moans from your lips. Bob uses his forefingers to pinch your nipple while he sucks on the other, your body pushes into him while you wrap your legs around his waist. “You take my dick so well, pretty girl,” you’re starting to feel the familiar build up of an orgasm, you try to hold it back so you can last longer for him, but the pleasure he’s providing becomes overwhelming.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he mumbles. Your entire body becomes overly sensitive as he pushes for your orgasm, your pussy clenches against him, pulsing around him as your cum spills out. Your nails dig into his shoulder as he pulls out of you, gripping your flushed body against him. You move your hand to his dick pumping slowly while slipping the condom off, running your thumb over the slit, spreading his pre-cum around.
His eyes close while he throws his head back in pleasure, you move down wrapping your lips around his tip. Your hand wraps around the remainder of his dick while you take in as much of him as you can, “Just like that, you’re doing so well for me,” he moans out. Your tongue rubs against the underside of him, using your other hand to squeeze his balls softly.
“Good,” he moans, “Girl”, you can feel his balls tighten in your hands as his hand pulls on the roots of your hair. The salty taste of his precum on the tip of your tongue while you continue your movements, running your teeth gently on the tip causing him to buck his hips up, pushing his dick down your throat bringing tears to your eyes.
His hand rests on your waist as he pushes the back of your head down softly, biting down on his lip as he watches you suck him off, warmth spreads through his chest as he feels the sensations in his stomach bringing on his orgasm. He moans loudly as his hips spurt up to the roof of your mouth, his dick leaking cum into your throat. His body spasms roughly as he lays back, his hands move under your pillow finding his crumpled up tee.
With a sweet smile he pulls it over you while you sit on his stomach, his hands run up and down your back. “Hangman was right about one thing,” Bob says with a laugh.
“And what is that?” You snuggle against his chest running your hand over his chest delicately while you admire his beautiful appearance.
“You look good in yellow,” he runs his hand through your hair, “especially when you’re fucked out of your mind” he smiles as you blush a deep red.
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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months
Note
I keep seeing “small but fiesty” “big but kind” NO. GIVE ME BIG AND MEAN‼️‼️‼️/j anyways could you do TADC x a reader who’s much larger then everyone else and pretty mean with it? Like Jax mean but just a squeeze nicer cuz they’re not a TOTAL jerk
TADC cast x big and mean reader!!! (not platonic nor romantic youre just mean!!!!!!!!!)
RAAAAAAAAAAH i meant to get to requests earlier buuuuuut i fell asleep and i needed to go make lunch for myself hisshiss (not complaining though, i made onion rings !! yipee!) probably gonna answer this an one or two more requests, though; admins been struck with some art motivation spoiler uhuh i made the reader MEAN, like sure jax is mean but hes like prankster-mean, reader is just mean
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CAINE:
he probably tries to get you to chill out and include you in IHA so you know. dont become under stimulated and slowly lose your mind. because that would be bad. honestly i think it would take a lot for caine to be pushed away; he has a high tolerance for tomfoolery and nonsense i think, and as the ringmaster he feels a responsibility to keep everyone happy. and yes that includes you. honestly not really phased by your insults and such in fact i think he might be oblivious... or maybe he just ignores them and moves on. youre gonna have to do something REAL bad to get on caines bad side, i think
POMNI:
doesnt like to be around you, and likely avoids you when she can. i mean can you blame her? youre kind of a dickweed, and that can be unpleasant to be around. like with jax at least theres some humor with it so theres some kind of exchange. but youre just. kind of a mean person. plus youre big, and thats really intimidating when its paired with your personality. add in that shes already working through enough with being new to the circus as well as trying to find an exit... shes just got a lot on her mind and she needs to preserve herself, you know?
RAGATHA:
tries her best to be nice and polite with you, and honestly you can probably see her try to force herself to remain civil and kind. like if you look at her face or listen closely to her voice you can tell that you likely make her just a smidgen uncomfortable. she wont be rude to you, nor will she exclude you.... but i do think that at some point shes going to snap and lose her patience with you.... huh... an angry ragatha losing her cool... odd thought but like everyone else, this lady would also have her limits. does try to apologize afterwards, but is firm that you need to try to clean your act
JAX:
i think he would either target you because he finds it funny when you get all riled up and he gets a thrill from it; or he might try to pair up with you.... obviously, you mention in your ask that the reader is a smidge kinder than jax, but i think the real difference is the types of mean they are. call it a failed friendship or a rivalry, jax doesnt really vibe with you regardless... at least thats my personal take. though i do think he wouldnt try to pick many fights with you depending on how large you are in comparison to him; i mean jax strikes me at the type to bolt the second theres an implication of a fight coming, at least fights that include him
KINGER:
do not the old man :( will actually get sad, but i do think like ragatha he will still try to be kind and polite to you. might even try to find out what your problem is, and try to help you through it. maybe its the dad energy thats making me think like that but. you know? that said, when you so much as furrow your brow you can guarantee that kinger is going to slink away out of sight since he doesnt want to get caught up in whatever is about to happen, correctly assuming someone had made you upset. either that, or i can see your words going right over his head and not phasing him because hes too ooooooo to really try to connect any meaning and correlation.. both work, i think. really it depends on how hes doing on a given day, i think
ZOOBLE:
sometimes you guys shit talk some of the other circus member if they were being particularly annoying that day but thats kind of it. like zooble can be a bit mean but they arent... harsh without any real prompting. whereas, for the sake of filling space and introducing new ideas, you do. i dont think zooble would really vibe well with that... whats this? zooble calling out someone for being an asshole? not as unlikely as youd think, actually.. do i think they would try to stop you? i mean theyd probably tell you to knock it off, but outside of that they would just disconnect themselves from the conversation and walk off. on good days you guys can be somewhat friendly to one another, but on others zooble just cant be bothered with your bullshit. i mean they barely seem to tolerate jax, so i think this was able to be foreseen...
GANGLE:
oh you could be having a good day and say something slightly less mean than usual and you would still make gangle feel bad. you dont even have to try, gangle is just really sensitive. actually, tying this back to ragatha i think if she were to snap it would be on someones behalf... someone like, gangle perhaps? brain stew is brewing, admin is now hcing that ragatha and gangle have a sibling like bond
anyways moving on, i think she would try to avoid you when she can just because youre so... not nice, and even when youre being neutral you can be a little much; you know? factoring in the fact youre a giant compared to her frail body... not that she thinks you would strike her, no im not at all comfy writing physical stuff in my writing, but its like a voice in the back of her head; you know? you dont even have to be violent, just verbally aggressive, you know? though, considering jax seems to push her often (as seen in the pilot and her intro short) i think thats something in the back of her mind when interacting with a lot of people
sits
yk?
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emeritus-fuckers · 1 month
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Hi, feel free to ignore. I don’t know why this is making me panic so much but I’m a writer and I write Sodo being called Sodo instead of Dewdrop, some ghost fans seem to be getting a little mad that he’s not being called Dewdrop and I was wondering why you decided to call him Sodo?
Im unfortunately a chronic people pleaser and this is kind of tearing me apart part, I’m so very confused.
(I admire you very much by the way rat for sticking to your own beliefs and Hc’s and not going against your beliefs to please one person you don’t even know through a screen)
hi!
i believe the reason people get pissy about sodo being called sodo and not dewdrop (bleh) is because the man behind the mask is called the sodomizer and even has a tattoo of the word on his stomach, which leads people to apparently lose their minds because "it's disrespectful" to him by "blurring the line between him and the character" which is just nonsense, honestly.
sodo started out as a bassist, which would make him a water ghoul, so he was named dewdrop because compared to the rest of the band at the time, he was relatively small.
however, he is now the main guitarist. a fire ghoul. i do not see how a fire ghoul would be called dewdrop.
it's even more silly when you realize that papa called sodo that (well, sodomizer, which sodo is a short form of) multiple times. hell, at my own ritual, we were yelling out sodo.
the people behind the ghouls masks are very much aware of what we call them. at least some of them (sodo, aether and phantom definitely) are and they have no problem with being called that. sodo reacts to being called sodo.
fun fact, there was also a discourse about how apparently he's uncomfortable with dewdrop, but from what i've read, it wasn't from him, it was just misinformation which spreads in the fandom at a ridiculously fast pace.
for me personally, there are a few reasons i chose sodo over dewdrop.
one, it's a fucking fire ghoul. i'm not calling a fire ghoul dewdrop.
two, i view switching elements as something similar to being trans. partially because i'm trans myself. calling him dewdrop feels to me like deadnaming him.
three, it's a bit similar to mary goore's pronouns for me. while mary can be a he/they or a they/them, calling mary goore a "he" makes me uncomfortable. calling sodo dewdrop also makes me uncomfortable.
and lastly, i just don't like the name, in all honesty.
in the end, i believe that what he's called will depend on your own opinions and maybe when you joined the fandom, but calling sodo anything other than sodo feels wrong to me, so i'm sticking with that. i do accept asks where he's called dewdrop, but i always call him sodo either way.
if people are getting mad at you for this and making you panic, inform them that this is your choice as a writer and they are free to leave whenever they fucking please. it's your art. as long as it doesn't hurt anyone, you should be free to do anything you please with it. and calling a character a different name isn't gonna hurt anyone, trust me.
the people getting pissed at you probably have nothing better to do with their time. if i can skip a post with sodo being called dewdrop and ignore a post with mary being called a "he", they can ignore your posts/fics if they don't like a name or a headcanon. and if they don't and they seek out drama over something so petty, their opinions aren't worth caring about.
i used to be a chronic people pleaser, too, back when i wrote fanfiction on wattpad. and let me tell you, it made me feel terrible. i was pushing out chapters and publishing pieces i didn't like because people liked them. i was genuinely convinced my work was bad because it made me feel bad to write it.
eventually i decided to let go, completely switched out a fanfic in a way that people hated but also made me much happier. it's your writing and your decisions. other people don't get to dictate that. i'm sticking with my own headcanons because it's my blog. i made this blog. i am the main writer. if you disagree with a headcanon, you can move past my blog and go read someone else's fanfiction.
the best piece of advice that i can offer you, anon, is to remember that you're one of the people you're supposed to please. and the only one that truly matters in the end. if you ever wanna talk about those things, send me an ask on my main and i'll dm you (non-mutuals can't dm me for personal reasons) so we can talk more.
people suck. have fun writing.
- nosferatu
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schizodiaries · 7 months
Text
my first psychotic episode
I wanted to talk about this for so long, so I’m finally getting it off my chest. I want to share my first experience with psychosis and how it affected me in the long run, and hopefully my story resonates with others as well.
This is going to be a really long post so I’m putting it under the cut.
(cw for descriptions of psychosis, hallucinations, delusions, and paranoid ideation)
It was around Valentine’s Day 2021 and I first started noticing something was off while I was at work. I was feeling unusually paranoid about everything. I would think people were following me to work, that my bosses were conspiring against me, or that customers recognized me from somewhere. This made me incredibly stressed from work, even more stressed than usual, and after my shifts I would sit in my car for half an hour in complete silence just trying to process everything that occurred.
After a few days I noticed I wasn’t sleeping well. I had trouble falling asleep and I was only getting a few hours of sleep each night. Not only that, but my appetite became severely reduced. I would constantly skip meals because I just didn’t feel like eating. My boyfriend actually noticed this and notified my mom, who tried making me my favorite foods but I couldn’t get myself to eat any of it.
At some point I started having ideas of reference. I would scroll through social media and think the posts had a special meaning behind them, or had some kind of code that needed to be deciphered. I would also misinterpret posts as being directed towards me when that wasn’t the case. For example one of my friends made a post about grief, and I thought she was describing how I was about to experience grief soon. Another friend posted “god is real” and I thought he was specifically telling me I was going to meet god soon. It was very confusing and off-putting.
Then came the voices. I began hearing whispers at night, which caused me to lose even more sleep, and they eventually turned into command hallucinations telling me to attack my boyfriend. This frightened me, and at this point I knew something was very wrong. I even tried reaching out to a crisis text line although it wasn’t much help at this stage. So I told my bf and mom that I was hearing voices and not getting any sleep and they encouraged me to call an advice nurse, which I did after a sleepless night. I described my symptoms to the nurse, who determined that I needed to be taken to the emergency room for a psychiatric evaluation.
My mom and I got ready to go to the ER. This is when my psychosis really took off and reality started to warp. Notifications on my phone became the FBI searching for me. A noise at the front door meant the cops were after me. I was suddenly in major trouble because I chose to trust the advice nurse, who was one of them. On the drive to the ER, I had to ask to turn the radio off because it was talking to me. I also thought cars were following us and trying to contact me. I was having illusions of other drivers waving at me and asking if I needed help. Upon arriving to the ER, a security guard walked by and I thought he was there to arrest and deport me. While I was being evaluated I kept muttering nonsense to myself while the staff asked me questions about my symptoms. I was really starting to lose it.
There wasn’t enough room in the ER to accommodate every patient so I was placed on a gurney in the middle of the hallway with other patients. At this point I began to experience more delusions. I could feel one of the patients reading my mind and I complained about it to the doctor who evaluated me. I started to realize this was all fake, all staged, and there were actually people behind the scenes watching me like the Truman Show. I wasn’t really in the ER, it was all just a game. So I left my gurney and tried to escape, but a security guard stopped me, and we got into a minor physical altercation but no one was hurt. I calmed down and went back to my gurney. I talked to other patients and staff as if we were friends because I genuinely thought we were. I had absolutely no social boundaries, and even insulted another patient completely unprovoked. I felt like I had no control of my thoughts or actions at this point.
After spending the night in the ER, I was determined to be 1. gravely disabled (due to not sleeping/eating) and 2. a danger to myself, and I was put on a 5150 hold and transferred to a mental hospital. I still was convinced this was all part of some kind of game, and didn’t take it very seriously. So when the staff at the hospital asked me questions about my name, age, etc., I would give them false answers. Some of the other patients tried talking to me but I would brush them off and respond with something either rude or nonsensical. Why did it matter when none of this was even real?
The first night at the hospital was rough. I would sit in the admissions chair unmoving for hours, going through countless delusions at once. When it was time for dinner, I refused to even open my food because I thought it was a bomb. When I was finally made to open it, I refused to eat it because I thought it was poison. I tried hanging out in the day room, but I was bothered by the TV because I felt like it was talking to me. I also thought I recognized some of the other patients and tried talking to them like they were my friends, which they were put off by. When it was bedtime, I would wander the hallway like a lost child, wondering where the hell I was and why I wasn’t waking up from this nightmare. One of the MHT’s escorted me to my room and encouraged me to sleep, but I got no sleep that night. I was too terrified that the staff or roommate would try to kill me.
It didn’t get much better from there. I spent 11 days in the mental hospital and I was psychotic the whole time. I got into trouble a couple times, as my social boundaries continued to be broken. For example I would rummage through my roommate’s belongings, and one time I barged into my neighbor’s room unannounced because the voices told me to go there. I had multiple terrifying delusions about the hospital, including that they were performing human experimentation, that they were serving us human meat, and that they were killing patients. I was able to see a psychiatrist while I was there, who I complained to about my delusions. He informed me that I was experiencing a psychotic episode, and diagnosed me with depression with psychotic features. I was put on a bunch of different antipsychotics, including ones that had awful side effects like muscle stiffness and trouble speaking.
When I was finally discharged, I didn’t feel like myself. I was heavily medicated, and still psychotic. I was having a hard time adjusting back to normal life. I couldn’t take walks because I still felt like cars were following me or neighbors were watching me. I couldn’t go to the craft store without feeling like the employees were secretly talking about me or that other customers were calling the police on me. I was able to get a doctor’s note for work, but upon returning a few weeks later my work performance was severely impacted by my symptoms and medication side effects and I was fired. My life just wasn’t the same anymore.
When I finally started to come out of psychosis, it felt like waking up from a long dream. It was like I could breathe again, but I also felt like I left so much devastation behind. I started to realize how unacceptable my behavior was, how ridiculous my delusions were, and just how much irreversible damage psychosis did to my mental health. I felt like there was a permanent scar left on my psyche. I wondered if I could ever get my old life back or if I was doomed to be like this forever. I started to mourn the life I once had before psychosis, before I lost my mind.
Psychosis took away a part of me I can never get back. It took control of me and caused me to lose myself almost completely, as if I were possessed by a spirit. But it also taught me a lot about myself and how fragile the mind can be. Before psychosis, I took my mental health for granted. Now I’m grateful for every moment I feel mentally stable. I still experience mild psychosis every now and again, but none as intense and disruptive as my first psychotic episode. I think it’s easier to manage nowadays, because I know what to look out for. But psychosis has a way of creeping up on me when I least expect it and I can never be fully prepared for a psychotic episode.
I am now on medication that works for me and has minimal side effects. I have a good support system and I’m receiving therapy and psychiatric help. I think I’m taking good care of my mental health and I have not experienced a psychotic episode in months. I like to think I’m still recovering from my first one, even two years later. But now I’m slowly getting my life back, one day at a time.
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emmettland · 27 days
Text
heavy vent
i'm so tired of feeling so drained, in every way possible. physically. mentally. emotionally. creatively. i'm trying so hard to do what i love, but it's like i'm not loving it, i'm not loving anything now. i read the words i type and just see something lukewarm, underdeveloped, nowhere near greatness. i open up my canvas to draw and it's just the same shapes, same ideas, same concepts, same struggles. it's all flat and monotone where there used to be life.
i've dealt with some very bad depressive episodes. i don't think i've ever dealt with one this long. it's not that there aren't moments of happiness and relief -- it's just that it hurts more knowing the empty, bitter gray will suck me back in once they end, and i'll make myself even more jaded wishing i could get them back, make them stay.
i want to do something self-destructive, but it would negatively affect the people i live with, the people who still manage to care about me, and i also need to take care of myself enough to take care of Peggy, even though that's become a slog through the gray too. wake up, walk dog, feed dog, feed self. distract from the bad feelings.
i want to work and be productive, but whenever i sit down to do commission work, i'm reminded of my shameful unemployment. whenever i sit down and try to get in the zone while working on a project, all i can think about is how the high won't last. the interest will fade. i'll do brilliant things with it, and then abandon it, and then grieve over something that i decided to leave behind.
all that comes out of my mouth now are excuses, or silence, because talking leads to venting and i can only vent about the same problem, the same feelings (just getting worse), so many damn times before that vicious little voice in my head keeps telling me i'm the problem.
i was better for a while. i got used to ignoring it. i even got to a point where i believed it wasn't right. when i believed people telling me i wasn't a bad person, that my work was worthwhile, that i was worthwhile. i believed it, i accepted it, i fucking loved myself.
i climbed all the way to what felt like the top, only to come tumbling down, down, down. it never changes, and i never learn. the higher you go, the farther you fall. when in my life have i ever found the key to happiness and actually held onto it? it's a delusion. everything is just a fucking delusion and i can't tell why. is it my brain chemistry? do i need pills? is it the unemployment? is it getting older? is it my own choices? if the answer was just written out for me, i could solve it, because i help solve other people's problems, why not mine?
i'm not suicidal. i'm not. i sound like a raving mad man while i type this out at seven in the morning, but this is the most real that i've felt, the words are actually clear to me and not just blurry shapes behind a wall of I'm Fine, I'm Polite, Don't Worry. everything is making sense right now and the words are so bright and sharp, it's almost like digging and digging and finally finding something in the ground.
i don't want to die. i'm not sure if i want to be understood. i don't need everyone to love me, just my family and friends is fine, i would also like to be included in that equation. i think about dying all the time, but i don't want to die, trust me. i just want help. i need help, and maybe spitting out so-called edgy nonsense on my blog isn't going to help me, but maybe it's good not to backspace and delete everything. maybe it'll give my therapist something to work with because i always forget to say things in the moment.
i can't even say i'm having a breakdown. that's singular, an isolated event. this is breaking down. i'm losing it, i'm fucking losing it, but believe me, i'm holding on. it might not look like it, but i'm grabbing and not letting go, even when my grip starts to slip. my dad's an alcoholic and turned to drinking when he got laid off. my dad made my mom cry so many times when i was a kid because he let go and i won't make that mistake, i won't make mom cry, even if she doesn't live here. i will not end up like him.
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buriednurbckyrd · 1 year
Text
Nothing Stays the Same Forever: Chapter 1
***author note: I have not played either one of the games. I loved S1 and I’m trying to keep from potentially spoiling the rest of the show for myself so I thought I’d focus my energy on writing a fic. Plus, like the rest of the world I’m absolutely feral for Daddy Pascal rn and since I haven’t felt like writing anything in a hot minute and I do now I’m seizing the moment.  As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated and will definitely help inspire me to keep going with this. Cheers!
Every single step was agony. The air was so cold it burned in her throat and lungs, and when she forced one leg in front of the other her muscles screamed and spasmed from the old hunting knife lodged in her side. She gritted her teeth and swallowed down her screams of pain. Stopping now would mean death, if she paused to chase a moment of relief she would lose the strength to continue. After everything that had happened… There was a part of her that desperately wanted to drop in the snow that very moment and let the darkness finally consume her, putting an end to the struggle and suffering. 
You promised. 
Was that steam rising from the hot tears rolling down her frozen cheeks? Or was it just her labored breaths forcing their way into the waning sunlight? 
The settlement exists. It has to. Don't you dare fucking stop moving! 
Her hand grips the handle of the knife, trying to somehow stifle the pain. It had been a brutal mental battle to not try and pull it out like her instincts demanded she do. It would only make her bleed out faster, leaving it gave her at least a small chance to find help and survive. 
Was she losing her mind or did she hear a dog barking? And… footsteps in the snow? She tried to move faster, fear turning into a lead ball in her stomach. In her haste, she slipped, and only just managed to turn her body so she didn't land on the knife. The fall knocked the meager amount of air from her aching lungs. She tried to be quiet but couldn't help the loud wheezing as she tried to catch her breath. 
The footsteps crunched closer, and she heard a voice call out. She strained, attempting to push herself up on the arm that wasn't still holding onto the knife, but all of her remaining strength had abandoned her. She started crying in earnest then, and shame washed over her. After everything, this was how she faced the end? Sobbing in the snow, unable to fight off whatever new hell was about to find her?
She felt the cold, wet nose of a dog prod her cheek. Her eyes squeezed shut and she waited for the animal to tear her throat out. Instead she heard a low whine and the dog laid down and rested its head on her chest. She opened her eyes as it began to snow again. The edges of her vision were starting to go fuzzy and gray but before she succumbed to the dark embrace of unconsciousness, the face of a woman looked down at her. She was talking, but she couldn't make out the words. 
That was a year ago.  And if she was being honest, she had no idea how she survived. Even though the woman and her group managed to get her back to their settlement, which definitely existed, she had been in terrible shape.  Hospitals were a thing of the past, they had disappeared along with the rest of the civilized world twenty years ago.  But somehow, the residents of Jackson were able to nurse her back to health and welcomed her as a new member of the community.  Maria, the kind but no nonsense woman that had been the first person to find her after the dog, had been an angel.  She was married to a handsome man named Tommy and the two of them were expecting a baby within the next few months.  He was a sweet guy, perhaps a little rough around the edges, but who wasn’t after an apocalypse? 
A while ago another man and a teenage girl had passed through.  Y/N had stayed away when she heard that the man was Tommy’s brother.  Maria always insisted that she was practically family, but there was something about the reunion between the two men that felt fragile and like the presence of another person would be the thing that pushed them over the cliff.  The two hadn’t stayed long, but afterwards Maria and Tommy had a lot of hushed conversations.  She decided it wasn’t her place to ask questions, telling herself that Maria would bring up the topic if she wanted a friend’s ear.  
So she continued her little routine.  Before cordyceps, she had worked in alterations at a wedding dress boutique.  Jackson didn’t have many people who knew how to sew much past mending a seam or taking up a hem.  Somehow they were able to find a sewing machine that still functioned and she became the seamstress of their little village.  There was nearly a daily stream of repairs for her.  When it was no longer possible to pop over to the local Walmart when your jeans ripped, clothes were kept and repaired for as long as the garment could still be worn.  But she did have down time, and would often take scraps of old clothing and make quilts for residents or stuffed toys for the children.  
She never gave things out herself.  The old taunts from the QZ still played on repeat in her mind whenever she didn’t wait long enough for the dining hall to empty out.  Maria and Tommy were the only two people she could bring herself to trust, and no amount of reassurances from the other woman had convinced her to give the others a chance.  
Joel and Ellie were back.  Both alive, with a plethora of new scars both visible and invisible.  Tommy was obviously relieved to see his brother in one piece again, and thankful that he still had Ellie with him.  The bond between the two had strengthened, neither one of them the same person that had originally walked through the gates.  Maria sensed an underlying tension in the air but chose to let it lie.  Why disturb the peace when it was so damn hard to come by these days?
Now that they were there to stay, the little house they had used on their first visit was their official home.  Y/N saw Joel and Tommy talking on his and Maria’s porch on her morning walk to work.  The girl was fidgety and clearly bored.  Her hands were stuffed into the pocket on her hooded sweatshirt and she scuffed her boots against the ground, muttering to herself.  
“Can I go see the horses?”  She called out to the men.  They turned to look at her, Joel’s face annoyed, Tommy’s amused.  
“Can you just wait for five goddamn minutes?”  Joel growled.  Ellie snorted.  
“You said that five minutes ago you grouchy asshole.”  Y/N wasn’t awake enough to stifle her laugh at the girl’s sharp words.  Ellie whirled around and narrowed her eyes.
“Something funny?”  Y/N felt the mirth dry up in her throat.  Did the girl think she was laughing at her?  
“N-no, I’m sorry.”  Ellie looked her up and down and Y/N found herself absolutely terrified at what the child might say next.  
“Y/N!”  Tommy pushed his way past his brother and strode up to her with his arm outstretched, taking a gentle hold of her arm when he reached her.  “This is my brother Joel and his uh…  This is Ellie.”  She felt her face get hot as she was led closer to the house.  “They’ve decided to stay this time.”  
“Oh, um.  Nice to meet you.”  She looked down at her shoes, wishing she had started out earlier, or waited another ten minutes to walk over to the commissary.  
“She’s lived here about a year, and she’s practically family.”  Tommy told them with a smile, clearly happy to have found a way to shift away from whatever he and Joel had been discussing.  “If you ever need any o’your clothes fixed up she does it all.  Don’t know how we managed before we found her.”  
“Huh.  Could have used you when I had to sew his guts back together..”  Ellie said flippantly.  She crossed her arms and kicked at a loose stone.  
“Jesus, Ellie.”  Joel scrubbed his hand over his face in exasperation.  
“I um, didn’t mean to interrupt you all.”  Y/N said quietly.  Tommy swung his arm around her shoulders and side hugged her.  
“Don’t worry about it.  We were just talking about when Ellie might join the other kids at the school.”
“Without Ellie’s input!”  The girl rolled her eyes.  
“There’s no point in stalling, kid.  Might as well go over there today.”  Joel told her.  
“I already know how to read and write and shit,”  Ellie spit out.  “I can do other stuff, help hunt or patrol or something.”  
“And I think maybe she could take a few days to get settled before she starts going to classes.”  Tommy was trying to be the voice of reason.  Ellie was frustrated with both men.  Joel looked like he was ready chew glass.  
“I should really get going,”  Y/N started, trying to pull away from Tommy without it being too obvious that she wanted to bolt.  “I think a group went out during the night and they always come back with tears…”  Maria chose that moment to open the door and see what was going on.  
“Hey, lady!”  She smiled at Y/N.  “You wanna come in for some tea before you start your to-do pile?”  She felt trapped.  Tommy wanted her as a buffer between him and the school argument, and it felt like Maria was giving her a silent plea to accept the invitation.  
“I… Sure.”  Resigned, she started towards the porch.  The closer she got to Joel, the more it felt like there was a group of frogs jumping around in her stomach, he had an intimidating aura around him.  To her horror she stumbled on the first step and he caught her by the arm.  His grip was far more gentle than she expected.  
“Okay, there?”  He asked her in a quiet, gravely tone. Not trusting herself to speak, she only nodded in response.  He looked at her, and she felt an uncomfortable sensation, like she was about to give a speech in front of a large group of people.  He gave her a sharp nod and let go of her arm, striding down off the porch.  “Let’s go see the damn horses.”  He muttered to Ellie and the girl’s face broke into a triumphant grin before she scuttled after him.  
“You two enjoy your tea.  I’ll meet you for lunch at the dining hall, yeah?”  Maria waved.
“I should be there around one.”  Tommy saluted the two women and started on his way towards the center of their little town.  Maria ushered Y/N into the house and took her coat to hang up by the door.  
“I’m glad you wandered by, the three of them would still be arguing.”  She walked into the kitchen and took out a slightly chipped mug, dropping a tea bag into it.  
“You don’t have to go through the trouble, I probably have a pile of stuff to start working on.”  Maria shook her head and pointed at the table.  
“Everyone here’s got a spare pair of pants, you can sit for a few minutes.”  Y/N knew better than to argue and settled into a chair.  Maria poured hot water into the mug and slid it over to her with a spoon.  “I still have some of that honey we harvested, help yourself.”  Y/N smiled to herself when she noticed the swell of Maria’s abdomen as the other woman cut herself a couple slices of bread.  There was already a soft flannel teddy bear squirreled away in her house, and she was collecting scraps to make a quilt for the baby.  She hoped that they would like them.  The couple had already done so much for her, and she wanted nothing more than to somehow pay back even a little of what they had given her.  With a quiet sigh, she scooped up a spoonful of thick, golden honey and stirred it into her tea.  The morning sun shone through the kitchen window and reflected off the liquid, and she felt foolish that it made her think of Joel’s eyes when she had looked up at him after almost falling on her face.  She rubbed at her arm where he had saved her from total embarrassment.  Maria sat down across from her and spread some of the honey onto her toast.  When she looked up at Y/N, the almost dreamy look on her friend’s face made her wonder for a moment, before she smiled and took a bite of her breakfast.  
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a-single-white-crow · 6 months
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What got me into witchcraft?
I usually respond to this question with a simple "I'm not sure" but right now, at 4am I suddenly remembered.
I got into witchcraft to survive.
When I turned 12 I had clinical depression. I'd always been sadder than most kids but it only became truly clinical at 12.
I don't remember much of those years. And memories suddenly appear as they do now. But either way.
I remember being so desperate to just have my mind be quiet. I was willing for anything. And that's when I randomly found those meditation YouTube videos. I had nothing to lose it was this or drastic measures. So I started trying it out. I'd sit and burn things (with fire safety in mind thankfully) as I focused on the video and blessedly I noticed that it actually helped. My brain for at least 20 minutes wasn't rotting away within my skull. It was quiet, still, I didn't feel like I was falling apart, I didn't feel rage practically boiling to the surface. I was completely calm.
So I kept doing it. On very bad days I wouldn't even bother. Just burning scrap after scrap and watching the smoke. I preferred burning incense along with any little bit of things. Seeing how quickly the fire developed items helped me in some way. Perhaps it was a physical representation of how my rage made me feel. Consuming all in its path. But all I knew was that it was a way to release my anger.
On better days, I'd light only a single stick of incense and play my videos listening to the stupid music and sometimes if listen to a few guided ones (I tend to avoid these now). I'd meditate each day after school. It was all I had that kept the dreams away. And slowly I began to feel more whole. By the time I got into high-school I was going better. I was still sad. I couldn't be bothered to out on clothes wearing pajamas and slippers to school. But I was going to school. I was having good days. And I had strength.
I used to go to these camps. Weird camp outs for the ladies of my church (I got my first girlfriend that way ha!).
While I was there one year one of the leaders in charge of a different group of women, asked to hug me saying "I sense you have many angels with you."
This was nuts. Angels was nonsensical and I didn't do physical touch. I politely declined and tried to move on.
But I couldn't. Because it kept happening. People kept claiming I had strong protective entities and others just wanted to be near me for a bit.
When I spoke to my father about it, he told me he always had that happening, and it was a normal experience.
But nobody else had this. Just me and my father.
So I started doing research. I wanted to know why people kept claiming I had angels especially with the fact that I wasn't sure I believed in angels (still don't. At least not like Angels Angels)
I'm not certain how I figured it out. That part is still lost in the static of my memories. But I do know exactly who is with me.
My ancestors.
My strongest being my grandfather.
I have no doubt it's him. I've been able to send him to protect others, and his love is such a strong feeling.
The others I'm unsure of the specifics.
But after I learned of my ancestors fully, I wanted to learn of to communicate. How to show my appreciation. And I found Tarot first and witchcraft in general second.
Though I had been studying witchcraft long before I just never realized that's what it was exactly and I didn't want to call myself a witch being a man and all.
It took a bit before I took on the title. But without it I surely wouldn't be here now.
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