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dungeonpuppykai · 2 months

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not really a request (not even sure i’m in the right ask box) buttttt i would love to hear any brain rot or wip scraps you wanna rant about. love when writers just info dump and i’ve been secretly lurking on your page for a bit. decided to make myself known

Hiiii! This is my first time doing this and I hope I didn't overshare but I am SO happy that you are making yourself known! Welcome to the blog, I hope to see more of you! <333

Now!! I am sharing two because why not? I've a lot more than these (maybe more than I'd like to admit 😭) but we will start with Auggie Walker and then move onto the Stevie one.

Auggie is an intimidating man and that's why I haven't written for him yet. I am so afraid I won't be able to capture him right and the idea is so good in my head I feel like I'll ruin it while translating it into a story 😭 but this idea has been living in my head rent free because it's a big fear for me!

And about the Stevie one, I've always been quite open about this and I will never shut up! I love, love, LOVE the sci-fi side of the MCU and specifically Steve's whole serum thing. It inspires me so much and I come up with something new everytime I see it! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Please do let me know what you think about them! 🩷

(also, for whatever it's worth, these are my WIPs so I request no one steal them please!)

. . .

As August received an attachment from your number, his eyebrows furrowed because you knew to send them all through email. Making a mental note to reprimand you for it later, he tapped on it within the next second. Now his head tilted to the side.

A video.

He had asked you for some documents which your boss knew very well weren't supposed to be in this medium.

The man tapped on it nevertheless, the sound and content inside catching him off guard as his eyebrows slightly raised. He was in disbelief. Moving the phone closer to his face and away from where he held it against his work table, August increased the brightness of the screen to make sure it was you.

Which, you were.

"Mr. Walker…" You panted and whined, clutching one of your breasts as your other hand hid between your legs. "Oh, Mr. Walker… I am so needy for you…" You were in the janitor's closet on this very floor, phone placed on one of the shelves next to the files you had been carrying for the meeting that had just passed along your ipad. The lighting was dim and your disheveled hair stuck to your sweaty skin. "Won't you bend me over your table and make a good girl out of me~ I-" August blinked as the screen went black before a notification popped up.

Message deleted.

The man's head spun with the sudden influx of emotions, the sudden discomfort in his boxers getting tighter as he realised what had just happened. He smirked.

You had not meant to send it.

The fire that had taken over your body was dissipating and fast as you gaped at your screen. You were the stupidest person you knew. Instead of tapping on save you had chosen to share the video you were planning to watch until you orgasmed. Since your boss August Walker was your most frequently interacted with contact, it was an instant send that took you a few moments to register as you had been busy bouncing on your own fingers to orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" You chanted in panic as you leaned against the wall of the small room, holding a shelf for support as your own heartbeat pounded through your ears. "I am so fucking–"

There was a knock on the door.

. . .

"Where… do you think you're going, doll?" Steve was reading the Sunday newspaper by the fireplace when he saw his young wife drag her luggage bag to the front door of their humble abode.

"Mommy and Daddy's home." Y/n responded curtly, not turning to look at him. Because his face was still of the man she had fallen in love with and married. But she couldn't let herself surrender to it anymore.

"Without my permission or a prior discussion?" Tilting his head to the side, the man raised an amused eyebrow at the stiff girl who started to drag the heavy bag again.

"Won't be needing any of that anymore." Since the man didn't expect what was coming, he chuckled and furrowed his eyebrows.

He couldn't recall doing anything against her wishes in the last 24 hours. So what was this?

"And why do you think is that?" Y/n sighed as she ceased her struggle against the luggage bag, biting her lip and closing her eyes.

Well, the talk would have to happen sometime.

It was now or never.

"You are not the man I married, Steve" since she usually referred to him as hubby, this felt like an insult, almost.

The Captain put the newspaper down against his lap now. "What silly Sunday morning shenanigan is this, doll?" He snickered before shaking his head. "I know I have been busy after everything but…" Now he patted his lap. "Come here."

"No."

"You know little wives can't tell their husbands that, baby. Haven't we been over this so many times already?" His coaxing voice had her turn her back to him.

Fuck.

She was so in love with him.

Why did he have to get the stupid serum?

"Good thing I am not your wife anymore, then." As she placed the ring on the shoe cupboard next to the door, Y/n failed to catch that he had stood up to the towering height the procedure had granted him.

He was a giant now.

"This is not funny anymore, doll." Steve warned as he started to decrease the distance between them.

"It's not meant to be. You're not my Steve. You're-" her words were suppressed by a gasp when she noticed he was now standing right behind her.

"Who am I, then?" Though his eyes and tone turned darker, he was genuinely confused.

"Captain America." It broke his heart when the girl backed up to create some distance between them. "The man I married was Brooklyn's most ambitious and brave… not America's pride. You're… practically a stranger" he sighed.

This had occurred to him once but he had assured himself that they were stronger than that.

"Come on, baby." Y/n flinched when he reached for her smaller hand and clasped it between both of his, kissing her fingertips. "I know it's different, and maybe even scary. But I am still me. So what if I am Captain America? Doesn't mean I am not your Steve… Can't you feel me?" He pressed his bigger body against hers.

"That's the thing" she whispered, devastated. "I can't." Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt herself getting scared and breathless under him. "I have tried. Ever since the day you walked out of that machine, I have. But I can't." Y/n didn't know why but she found herself thinking about how helpless she was against him. "I don't recognize you without your face. I feel like I am in a stranger's arms every night. It's not the same. Every time you touch me it feels like I am betraying the love of my life." Though the rational part of Steve's brain felt both crushed and sadly fond of her devotion to that form of his that no one else had ever taken seriously, her next words completely flipped everything over inside his head. "Please. Let me go." Reason gave way to desperation.

Oh..

He could never do that.

Maybe not even in death.

"Can't do that, baby." Her tears finally spilled down at his words. She started to softly struggle, the panicked gesture breaking his heart more and more by the passing second. "Why are you punishing us for something I had to do? For you, me, all of us. Come on, we are stronger than this. You knew my ambitions, you said it yourself just now." His own eyes were glassy as he breathlessly chuckled as an effort to somehow lighten the situation, ignoring her faint pleas as she struggled to push him away. "Remember-" Steve grunted as he gathered her now assaulting hands away from his neck and chest before locking them above her head. "Remember when your father didn't approve of me because he thought I wasn't good enough for you?" A trickled tear hung off the sharp tip of his nose. "Remember the hell you raised for us? You didn't even listen to me. You kept going for us until you succeeded."

But his words fell on deaf ears; something he wasn't used to coming from her. "Steve, you're scaring me! Let me go!" A thick bile settled at the base of her throat as she tried to break free, crying a bit harder now.

"There, you said it yourself. You said Steve!" Her obvious unwillingness to this position seemed to not faze him one bit. "Silly girl! How can you call me by my name and then say that it's not me?"

"Because you're not my Steve!" Fear was making her chest contract as she seethed out breathlessly.

"Come on!" One of his hands trailed down her body as he caressed and groped her tits before slipping his hand under her dress. "Not your Steve?"

"No. Your hands are big and rough! Your body is hard! You don't even smell the same! I DON'T feel you so stop!" A twisted smile now spreads on his priorly hurt features.

"I see…" Steve lowered his head momentarily before he sighed a little. "Then," a resolution flashed in the brilliant blue of his eyes, "I guess I just have to show you that it's still me."

. . .

#ask kai #404-isfound #august walker #august walker smut #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers smut

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darkxwolf17 · 1 month

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i remember following you at some point when you were arguing with this one proshipper, and at the time i was well... on your side. but lately, i've started thinking.. what's the point of all this discourse?? like... even then, there's a difference between proshipping and comshipping (proshipping- ship and let ship; block and move on) (comship -"complex" shipping; what proshipping in the md and other fandoms are usually confused with) so.. i feel like i've been adopting the proshipping mentality, though i wouldn't call myself a comshipper :] i know you're probably not going to answer this, but what's your full, honest opinion on the pro/anti ship discourse?

EDIT: Proshippers DO NOT INTERACT with this post i dont want you here get out

Hello, thank you for this ask, my opinion on the whole debate is actually more complex than what might be seen. Despite me being very much anti-proship (which I'll get to what that means later), I actually do not consider myself anti-fiction (though some proshippers may disagree with me and call me a "puriteen" or whatever).

Personally, I am in the opinion that the original meaning of dead dove and all that is something i can get behind. Before anyone calls me a proshipper, (I'm not and never will be), let me specify I said the *original* definition. This definition being "okay, there are some things that can be romanticized in fiction that shouldn't be romanticized ever in the real world." By this, I'm mainly meaning toxic relationships (I joke about toxic yuri, and it's because there are some ships that Are toxic i do genuinely enjoy, ie Voll), as well as some other kinks (that I won't get into because this is a safe for work blog that minors follow) that cannot be performed in real life. Fiction is a place to explore these things, and I am fully in support of using it as an outlet for the bizarre and weird.

My issue with proshipping is that, despite what many may claim, nowadays it really is just a fancy word for enjoying drawn csem. I don't care if it's "just fiction." Remember that thing i said earlier about how there are some things that can be romanticized in fiction? Well, children are not and never will be one of them. It is never okay, in ANY universe, to sexualize a child. I will stand by that firmly.

Other things i do not condone being romanticized in fiction is incest, or literal animals. Incest because it's a real thing that is traumatizing just like child abuse, and animals because, well, I hate zoophiles. "But Marven!" you may say. "You're a furry, doesn't your community have a good chunk who draw furry nsfw?" Well, to that I say there is a huge, huge difference between sexualizing an anthropomorphic walking talking consenting creature that is essentially just a human with fur, and a literal dog on four legs. If you can't see the difference between those two, that's your problem.

"But what about trauma? Shouldn't victims be able to express themselves through art?" Why, yes! of course. However, there is a difference between drawing vent art privately in closed circles and posting erotic material featuring children with the intent to arouse publicly. I am in full support of trauma survivors using any method to cope, but forming communities dedicated to drawing and getting off to images of children is not a way to cope. It's illegal! And normalizing terrible behavior, repeating a cycle of abuse.

So yeah, tldr; There are some things in fiction that can be romanticized that shouldn't be romanticized irl. There is some merit to a "Dead dove" label. However, if you do end up calling yourself a proshipper, just know that you will be grouping yourself with some very, very nasty people.

I hope I could be of some help, best of luck to you anon and I urge you, as someone who nearly fell down the proshipping pipeline, to please understand what kinds of people that community holds.

#tw proship mention #tw pedophila mention #tw zoophile mention #tw incest mention

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qianinterprises · 3 years

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WayV Reaction: to asking them to take over while riding them

Warnings: SMUT!!!! This has 90% smut, 10% fluff, so if you are underaged, be warned!!

Work Count: 1.4k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your request, love! This was my first requested request and it was so much fun to write! I hope you enjoy it sweet anon!

Tagging: @treasuretaeil

Kun:

Originally Posted Here

Your hands were planted against your boyfriends chest, using him for leverage to hold yourself up as your hips pummeled against his. His hands gripped your hips, loosely guiding your hips down on him. His cock dragged deliciously along your walls, drawing moans from your lips, moans that were spurred on by his lips around your nipple.

You moaned out at a particularly hard thrust. Your hips stuttered, arms beginning to shake with your weight. It was all becoming too much.

"Kun?"

The man beneath you released your perky bud with a lewd pop, eyes flicking up to yours in question.

"Can you take over? I'm getting tired..."

With a smirk, Kun's hands gripped your hips tighter and lifted his pelvis. Skillfully, he flipped you around, settling you against the pillows. He moved his hands from your hips, planting them on both sides of your head.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered, hips thrusting into you as your walls squeezed around him.

Ten:

Originally Posted Here

Riding Ten was something you'd always wanted to do. He was always dominant, always putting your needs first. So when he came home from practice sweaty an exhausted, you jumped at the chance to take care of him.

Rather than fighting you for dominance, Ten gave in relatively easily. However, you seemed to have underestimated the amount of energy that went into topping.

Moans left his mouth has his hands fondled your breasts softly. You almost felt bad as your arms holding you up gave out and you were falling against his chest, hips moving slowly now.

"Tired baby?" he asked, voice soft as he ran his hands down your back.

You nodded against him. You really should start working out more.

"Can you take over please?" you asked softly.

With a soft chuckle, Ten rolled you over onto your back and gently thrust his hips into you. He laid over your body as his hips moved, lips softly kissing down your neck.

"Just enjoy," he whispered against your skin as his hips began moving at an infuriatingly slow pace.

WinWin:

Originally posted here

It wasn't uncommon for you to ride Sicheng. You both generally took turns with dominance, however, what was uncommon was how fast you had managed to get tired.

Sure, you could never last quite as long as your boyfriend, but you usually always managed to spur an orgasm out of him before your body collapsed against his chest. However, as your muscles suddenly seized up, you feel face first toward his chest. He only managed to catch your falling body by a few seconds before you slammed your nose against his collar bone.

"Babe?!" he asked, alarmed.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed, arms spasming with overuse.

"What happened?!"

"I couldn't hold myself up anymore..." you muttered, embarrassment rushing through you.

"Do you want to stop?"

You knew he didn't. You could still feel him twitching inside you, and to be frank, your core was aching for a mind-shattering orgasm, the kind only he was capable of giving.

"No but would you mind taking over?" you asked.

"Say no more."

With that, he flipped you around until your back was pressed against the mattress. He lifted your legs to wrap around his hips and pulled his cock almost completely out before thrusting back in, pulling a loud moan from your throat.

Lucas:

Originally posted here

Yukhei's hands lightly squeezed your breasts as your hips bounced on his cock, moaning loudly as he stretched you in all the right ways.

"Oh fuck Yukhei!" you moaned as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

"You like riding me baby girl?" his voice was low and husky, a tone he only used when he was feeling exceptionally good.

You nodded enthusiastically, but you knew you wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. Yukhei had a lot more strength and stamina than you. He could fuck you for hours if you let him, but as your thighs began to quiver more from exertion than pleasure, you knew you didn't have much strength left to give.

As your thrusts slowed, Yukhei looked up at you questioningly, thumbs rubbing over your nipples softly.

"What's wrong baby?" he asked.

If there's one thing you loved about Yukhei, it's how he never got too caught up to care about you.

"I can't..." you breathed as your hips stilled completely. "I can't hold myself up anymore..."

A smirk covered his worried features.

"Want me to continue?"

With a nod, you allowed your thighs to relax. He shifted beneath you, lifting his legs until his feet were planted firmly in the mattress.

"You better hold on baby, I won't go easy," he growled before fucking up into you, sending you grappling for his shoulders to support yourself.

Xiaojun:

Originally posted here

Your first time riding anyone was proving to be a lot more difficult that you would have ever imagined. Typically, you'd say it looked easy enough, just moving your hips on someone rather than taking what they were giving you. However, as you struggled to find a happy medium between holding yourself up and fucking yourself down on Dejun's cock, you were getting frustrated.

"How do you do this all the time!" you whined as your hips moved sloppily, unable to find a comfortable pace.

Dejun, who looked far too amused beneath you, just shrugged.

"There's a training session we all have to go through to ensure we're strong enough to please our woman!"

You raised a hand to slap his chest, but as that support left, you found your body toppling down off of him and onto the bed, his cock slipping out of you, making you whine.

"I think you need more practice."

"Oh just shut up and fuck me!" you demanded.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Ask nicely."

You scoffed. Part of you wanted to just say 'never mind' and go finish yourself off in the bathroom, but he felt really good inside you.

With a huff, you conceded.

"Oh great Dejun, will you please do me the great honor of fucking me?"

With a far too satisfied grin, he moved on top of you, not hesitating to sheath himself back inside you.

Hendery:

Originally posted here

It had been his request. You weren't too keen on the idea because you were positive you wouldn't be able to do it for long. Your upper body strength was low, and you knew it was going to take a lot to keep yourself grounded as your hips moved. You had told your boyfriend this, but he'd insisted that you at least try. Which is how you ended up where you were not, laying flat on his chest, arms by your sides, hips barely moving to keep him the slightest bit stimulated.

"I told you this was a bad idea," you groaned, not looking up.

"You barely tried!" Kunhang complained.

"Did too! It's just hard!"

He didn't say anything after that, just moved his hands to your hips. He gripped them tightly and lifted them a little higher before letting them drop, pulling out moans from both of you.

"I have an idea, how about I stay on top but you take over?" you asked, looking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow, lifting your hips again and letting them drop.

"What will that do?"

You rolled your eyes.

"It will give you what you want and also allow me to practice holding myself up for next time!"

He didn't seem to keen on the idea at first, but as you lifted yourself up, placing both hands on the headboard to hold yourself up while he lifted your hips, he let out a satisfied moan.

"Deal."

YangYang:

Originally posted here

"Can't you go any faster?"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

"But it's too slow!"

Your eyes snapped down to stair at your annoying boyfriend beneath you.

"How about you do it then!" you glared.

Riding him had been his idea. Something on your list to try, but ultimately his idea. You'd told him when he'd suggested it that it'd be slow. You didn't have great balance. Holding yourself up was going to take some practice and as he was the first person you'd ever been sexually intimate with, you obviously had no prior experience. Thus, here he was, whining at you to go faster when, even though you understood the need, you didn't have the balance or the practice to go any faster.

"Fucking finally!" he cheered.

Not a moment later, he was dumping you off his lap, pulling a yelp from your lips that was quickly drowned out by the embarrassingly loud moan that pooled from your throat as he thrust into you from behind, immediately setting a brutally fast pace.

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fuck-customers · 2 years

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Ik this is about customers, some get on my nerves with the random hostility towards me when I'm just trying to help take their order.

Well, I had quit for a bit due to my job, my mother'sbullshit drama, my grandmother(who was really like a mom to me) passing, and a lot of other things. Well, I couldn't find another job and they said since I had no strikes against me, I coulf always come back. I did only to support myself for now, until I find another job.

Yesterday, I said something about not being able to do my dishes and two of the managers were like "We can't help that, your just gonna have to do them between orders." I can't leave my window while orders are needing to be cashed out, I won't know the line moved until someone up front yells about not having someine cashed out. If I tried, and I have, to go after I handled all the orders and we stopped for then. The closest I come is to either turn on the water ot stick my hand in the water to grab a dish and then my headset beeps. I can't do my dishes until someone works in my place or the other person comes.

Another thing that happened that day, one of the mangers in charge of scheduling messed up the schedule. I was SUPPOSED to get off at 10, but my co worker wasn't scheduled to come in until 11. My manager afterwards gonna laugh and say my bad and saying "Can you ever forgive me?" In a joky way. I never get off on my time I'm supposed to. The longest so far I've had to stay is about an hour and 14 minutes(yes I basically timed it, I was to get off at 10, but didn't get to leave until 11:14). I get up at 3 every morning and don't get off until 10 or 11 My legs, my right knee, and feet ache. These floors ain't exactly comfy.

Before I came back and worked morning instead of night, I slipped off of the thing we pour mop water into to drain them(I was standing on it to put new soap in the machine for my dishes) and fell directly on my right knee. My manager at that time didn't say anything, didn't notice until I said something about half an hour later. She didn't seem to care either. This all happened back in September, so for it to be giving me issues here in December and them saying I need a doctors excuse. At one point I had gotten sick and brought up the fact I couldn't smell anything, I tested it by spraying perfume on my wrist, and she said it might be a cold. That's what I had been thinking until I got tested postive. Then suddenly I'm not overreacting anymore. I tried to tell her I couldn't smell anything, that I didn't know for sure if my nose was just clogged up too much or if I lost it and possibly was positive. Another coworker couldn't smell either. She did this thing where she put onions in a cup and had something else in there with it and was breathing it in. I couldn't smell it, but I heard it stuck really bad.

The store I work in doesn't care for their employees(not all of the managers are bad, just some). The customers are just rude in general sometimes. Either snatching stuff out my hand or getting snippy over the intercom or trying to discuss why their stuff is high in price and trying to get me to read it back or change/add something while they see and hear that I'm taking an order and getting mad when I ask them to hold on or the customer on the intercom getting mad because I stopped.

At this point, I'm so done with everything in general. I'd rather make eye contact with a gorilla than to work here any longer, but at this point I don't seem to have a choice.

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gotreactions · 4 years

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Got7 Reaction: Their Actress/Actor S/O Has to Film a Sex Scene

Warnings; light NSFW, Fluff, maybe slight angst depending on how you view things but I don't wanna get yelled at so I'm putting it in 'warnings' anyways!

Backstory: You're an actress/actor staring in a new movie/tv series and your next scene is a sex scene that will be fairly visual and detailed

Jaebeom:

He knows acting is your job, so he would try to be supportive and understanding even though he felt extremely jealous under the surface. He would ask to read the scrip just to see HOW visual the scene would be. Upon realising how long the scene would be lasting he felt his skin heat up, he doesn't like the thought of anyone else seeing you in a way that only he should.

After reading the script he would sit down on the sofa and call you out so he could discuss this with you. He would pull you in his lap and hug you from behind, pulling you closer so your back was against his chest and he could easily whisper in your ear, asking a billion questions quite seductively oddly enough. "Are you excited to film this scene? Wanna have sex with another man on camera?" Questions along those lines as he spread your legs open even as you insisted you wouldn't actually be having sex with him and telling JB that if he really wasn't okay with this you would talk to the director and see if there was a way out of it. Your reassurance made him feel better, and deep down he knows that no-one could satisfy you like he does. That doesn't mean he won't use this to his advantage however. He would have enough of your blabbering and he'd tell you to get up and strip for him, smacking your ass as soon as you stood up. He would lean back and enjoy his little show that would lead to a long night for you two.

The next morning you wake up in his arms, covered from neck to toe in hickeys and love bites. Jaebeom would rub your waist as he spoons you from behind and kisses along your shoulders before speaking up about how he feels finally.

"I'm happy for you getting a big role and I understand apart of your job may mean doing jobs like this sometimes. If you want to do the scene, go for it. I support you fully my love. If you don't want to film the scene and if you feel uncomfortable with it, I'll go down there myself and talk to the director so you won't take the heat for it alright?"

In the end he would leave it up to you. However if you do choose to film the scene, he would get kinda cocky to a degree. Asking things such as, 'I wonder if they'll leave the hickeys showing. I hope they do so everyone can see just how much daddy pleasures you.' And every day up until the filming of the scene would be full of these cocky retorts and him kissing all over your body cause he still feels a little jealous.

Mark:

The two of you were sitting together watching a movie and cuddling when you randomly brought the scene up. At first Mark would scrunch his brows together and slowly turn his head away from the tv, moving it to look down at you instead. He would ask what you said, while looking half between the movie half between you. When you would repeat yourself 'I'm filming a sex scene for work next week' he would nod a bit before grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. He'd move around on the sofa/bed a bit to get more comfortable before facing you and asking all about it. 'How long have you known? What's the context of the scene? Are you excited?' He would want to hear everything about it while he processes all of this. In the end he would put on his normal happy smile and rub your waist. "I'm happy for you." Would slip out of his mouth before he kissed you and pulled you to lay against his chest. He'd suggest getting back to your movie that y'all had been watching, pressing play.

The rest of the night all he could invision was you naked, covered with only a white sheet and a random guy on top of you. He felt uncomfortable and protective as he rubbed your back while he finished watching the movie with you.

When you guys went to bed that night, Mark felt to weird to hold you in his sleep. Though he will admit he didn't even sleep that night. Images of you with another guy, even if just for a movie, seemed too weird and wrong to him. You should be with him and him only. His mind ended up wandering and he starting to get a little insecure wondering if you would enjoy your fake sex scene on camera with a guy you barely know outside of work more than real sex with Mark whom you've been with for ages now. He felt weirdest about himself, cause he isn't normally the super insecure jealous type but right now he wants to punch the guy in the face and fuck you himself - and he doesn't even know the guy.

A few days before you had to film the scene, you would confront Mark on his weird behavior - him not holding you in your sleep, how he's spent more time at the studio and coming home later, how he doesn't talk to you as much. He would be open and admit he feels weird and overly jealous about thinking of you with another - even if it is purely an on camera for a movie thing. You would laugh a little and reassure him that nothing would actually happen with you and this guy and how even in the scene, you guys wouldn't actually be touching. You told him you would be wearing clothes under the sheets and that if Mark wanted he could come to the set, meet the guy, and watch the scene as you film. You promised him if he showed up to the set, you would stare in his (Marks) eyes the entire time you were filming so he would know for sure he's the only one for you.

Mark felt better after opening up to you about his worries and jealousy. After you talked him through everything he would scoop you up in his arms and carry you to bed bridal style, kissing you gently yet passionately. All night he would whisper 'I love you's in your ear while you make love and feel all of his love, reassuring him of your love in an intimate way.

Jackson:

Anger, jealousy, immaturity. It would start off with innocent discusing back and worth, him getting jealous and asking why you would want to do that kind of scene and you wanting to be independent and to be able to film this cause you really enjoy being in this show/movie plus 'its not that racey' so 'whats the big problem?'

Eventually Jackson would get up and start walking off as you continue talking to him, trying to explain what's going on to him. Trying to tell him about the scene and movie. He would throw his hands up in defensive shouting a 'I don't wanna hear it, go do whatever you want!' As he storms off, leaving the house and slamming the door on his way out. At first you would chase after him, feeling slightly bad but he would ignore you as you climbed in his car and drove off.

You must have shouted his name 100 times, called his phone a dozen and a half more. He was ignoring you and acting childish so you gave up. You went inside, watched some tv/read a book. Cooked, ate, did the dishes. You watched the clock tick and called his phone every 10-20 minutes feeling so annoyed and worried. It was around 2am that he finally came home. He smelt of alcohol as he walked right past you, both of you silent as he went to the bathroom.

Knowing what to do by now you went to the kitchen to make him some tea and a light snack in attempt to sober him up before bed but he never came back out that night, not like he usually would.

The next morning as you were making breakfast you felt a set of arms wrap around you as Jackson whispered "I'm sorry" over and over again, hiding his face in your neck and squeezing you like a teddy bear. You would be stern and tell him you're still filming that scene. Jackson would be more understanding this time around after talking to his friends about it the night before, he realises he has to trust you and that he really does trust you. You guys would sit down to eat that morning and this time as you told Jackson about the scene, he listened to you and you were able to have a mature and civilized discussion.

Jinyoung:

He was very understanding and happy for you. He knows how much you love acting and how much you like your job. Knowing you inside and out he would know that if you didn't want to do this scene, you'd say something at least to him. Meaning, this scene isn't something he needs to worry about if you feel comfortable with it. There is no-one in the world JR trusts more than you. He loves you, values your relationship, and he's confident in you two. Confident in your sex life that nothing is lacking. Confident in your romance and your love that nobody could split you guys apart - especially not a coworker of yours on a single movie.

He would offer to help you run lines, he'd be bluntly honest on if your moans seemed too fake and he would help you perfect them. Using a teddy bear and pulling out his camera he would help you place your hands in the most flattering way on camera to make you look the best, so you would know where to place your hands on the guy/girl in the scene. Overall, he'd be very supportive.

However, he would also joke and tease a lot. 'i wonder if I should go to the studio and teach (act. name) how to pleasure you.' He loves teasing you about this. Even after the movie comes out, he will comment about everything to do with that scene and openly tell you your hands look better on his back (JR's). He would tell you you sound better gasping and moaning in his ear compared to on camera and he would do everything in his power to turn you red and get you squirming in your seat beside him.

Youngjae:

He wasn't really jealous, but he wasn't exactly the biggest ray of sunshine either. In the back of his mind he couldn't figure out how this kind of scene fit into the kind of movie you were filming. He also had a few inner questions about if this would be a reoccurring thing or not. Like, if there's going to be a sequel would you have to film another one of these scenes? Really, he was just trying to wrap his head around all of this.

After a day or two he would be more relaxed and totally let it go, acting as if this was just like any other scene you've ever filmed. He would continue askikg about work, how your day was. He would take you dates like usual, may be even more dates just to give you extra proof on how much he loves you for just in case whatever reason. Every day/night leading up til the filming date he would take you out on a date and continue being himself.

Once the movie was released, you guys went to the showing together and he got to meet the cast and crew which was exciting and nerve wracking to him - he definetely clung to you all night at the event. By the end of the evening, once he met the actor whom you filmed with, he felt much better and more relieved - even though he didn't realise he was stressing about this to begin with. When he saw how you looked at him compared to this actor, he knew there was nothing going on between you and any other man (or woman). Your love was all his and it made him feel confident and really happy inside. In the end, the scene meant nothing to him but a career success and boost for you.

BamBam:

Three words: Rough jealousy sex.

He was so jealous! Yes, he's met this actor before as y'all have filmed together before. No, there was never a spark between you two nor will there ever be one. To say your fellow actor was a friend would be a bit much - you work together and that's it. This scene honestly means nothing but a new experience to you. But BamBam? Oof!

He felt insecure thinking of you with another person in bed. He felt so gross at the fake scene that hasn't even happened yet that he doesn't even wanna be with you in a bed. He felt so jealous of a guy who can't even compare to him that he felt jealousy and few tears of confusion and shock swell up inside him. The night you told him about the scene, he would make a lot of jokes asking if you were alright filming a sex scene with a shrimp. Making jokes on how he is 'big' BamBam who can give you better bam bam than anyone. He would laugh a lot and hug you tight, ruffling up your hair and teasing you in general.

As the filming date got closer however, BamBam wasn't able to hold in his jealpusy anymore. He ended up snapping one night. Yelling, crying a bit, shoved some glass vases off the dresser into the floor. He begged you for reassurance asking if he's able to pleasure you or if your reactions in bed with him were all acting skills if yours. (He knew they were real reactions but he just needed you to tell him and to prove it to him.) As you cried a bit and broke down in honesty about how much you love him Bambam would push you against a wall and kiss you with more passion than ever before. Tonight has something to prove to you and to himself. He would 'bam bam' bang you against every iteam of furniture in your apartment aside from the bed that he felt to disgusted to go near at that moment in time. You had so many orgasms that night you spent the next 24 hours recuperating and relaxing as you and BamBam cuddled and lazed around in bed together.

After this, after seeing how you shake in pleasure beneath him and after feeling your body heat against his BamBam didn't feel as jealous though he was ready for the scene to just happen and get done with so he could stop thinking about it and so he could forget it ever happened.

Yugyeom:

Well, he definetely pouted a bit at first. Contemplated everything leading up to this moment. Replayed images of all your moments throughout the years. He felt like he should be more jealous than he actually was but for some reason he felt nothing? I mean previously when you'd tell him about a job such as getting to ride a horse across a beach or having a sword fighting scene he would feel really excited and kind of wish it was him instead. When you would tell him about all the animals and kids you get to work with, his heart would swell up feeling happy that so many people get to see your beautiful smile every day. But when you told him about this actor, about this scene? He felt nothing. Not jealousy nor happiness. He felt empty and no reaction. It was like, he doesn't love this gig but he loves you so they weight each other out.

As to try and feel something he would discuss it with you more, ask about it every day, talk work with you every chance he got. He asked his Hyungs if how he was feeling was normal or not but he was never able to come to a solid conclusion.

He was supportive, but at the same time he just wanted to spend time with you. After asking and hearing about your work that day for5-10 minutes nightly he would spend the next 3-4 hours just holding you, playing games, talking, giving you his undivided attention and not thinking about this other person whom you'd be filming with. As a matter of fact, in these moments, you aren't even an actress to him. You're his Queen/King and that's it.

#jyp got7 #got7 reactions #got7 jaebeom #got7 mark #got7 jackson #got7 jinyoung #got7 youngjae #got7 bambam #got7 yugyeom #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #got7 #got7 smut #jyp got7 reactions #got7 x male reader #got7 x reader #got7 x you #got7 x gender neutral reader

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beholdme · 3 years

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 13

Chapters: 13/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

If someone had asked Martin where he had least expected to be on the day after his thirtieth birthday, the veterinarian probably wouldn’t have been at the top of his list, but it definitely would have made the top ten.

Honestly, Martin didn’t think he had ever stepped foot into a vet clinic before in his life. He had never owned so much as a pet hamster, and now here he stood, clutching a tiny ball of mewling fluff and trying not to get distracted by the pet toys.

He felt positively inundated with new information on all sides. There were about a million different types of pet food lining the walls, and everything seemed to be a new bright colour to draw his distracted eyes. Warning signs that made very little sense to him filled the space, most memorably ‘Large birds must be kept leashed at all times inside the practice’, and ‘Reptiles need to be secured inside their travel enclosures.’

There was indeed an iguana in a massive glass enclosure sunning itself under a heat lamp, but it appeared to be a permanent resident, not a guest. Seemingly opposite to this was the massive tabby cat draped across the reception desk.

Martin begins to panic slightly.

He desperately wished he had allowed one of his lovers to accompany him, but he had sent Gerry back to bed to sleep and Jon had been shooed off to work, both quite thoroughly hung-over.

Now here he stands, alone with his new fluffy friend, and doesn't even know where to start. Neither of his partners have ever actually had a kitten before, but at least they had both owned cats before.

Gerry had been adopted by Saturn as a full-grown boy when he arrived at the window of his shitty little flat in Edinburgh and demanded to be let in. Gerry had confessed to a romantic feeling of instant affection for the fluffy beast and had taken Saturn in without a moment’s hesitation. They had moved together as he traveled the country, eventually settling together in London, where he had found Jon again.

Jon had been raised with several cats that had all been born before him and had liked them, but he had told Martin once that he heavily associated cats with his Grandmother and his slightly cold upbringing. That was all the pet experience he had until he met Saturn and fell in love with him as easily as they’d both fallen in love with Gerry. Like goth, like feline companion, apparently.

Nevertheless, Saturn did not appreciate being taken to the vet and had never gone once since Martin had met him.

"Can I help you, sir?" A kind-looking older lady sat at reception, and she beaconed Martin forward gently.

"I- I-" He started, stuttering badly. He closed his eyes and shook himself to dispel the unfortunate remnant of his childhood. “I found this kitten, and I was hoping the vet could check on it for me?”

“And will you be wanting to surrender it into our care?” She asks, tapping away at her keyboard.

“What?” Martin shies away, pulling the cat protectively even closer to his chest.

“You’re more than welcome to keep it, but we do also take in strays if you aren’t able to.” She smiles at him soothingly.

“Oh, I want to keep her please.” Martin flushes a bit. “I already gave her a name.”

The woman smiles at him knowingly. “The vet can see you in 15 minutes then.”

She takes his contact information, and they weigh Martin’s new friend. She guesses the kitten's age to be about 2 weeks and sends him off to sit close to the iguana.

An hour later, Martin stumbles out the door, armed with more supplies than he could ever have imagined he needed to raise one small animal. His head is spinning, alternating between fond adoration and complete anxiety over this new task that he has given himself. Luna meows at him supportively, happy to be clean and have a full belly.

Out on the street, he finds Jon. It’s raining slightly, and he’s wrapped in a long peacoat, with a scarf Martin is certain was once his.

“What are you doing here?” Martin demands, shocked. He stumbles over to his partner, and Jon reaches out to steady him. “I thought you were at the library."

Jon presses a quick kiss to his shocked mouth, before taking several things out of his overcrowded arms.

"I know you said that you were going to do this on your own, but I wanted to be nearby in case you needed me, so I called off." He shrugs a bit, "I reckoned that I had earned it, what with all the overtime I work and don't get paid for."

Martin is filled with warmth, eyes welling a bit. "Oh, Jon."

"Oh no, don't cry. I'm sorry." Jon's face pinches in concern. "I can go if you want me to."

"No, I'm so happy you're here. I was just wishing for you, and there you were. Thank you." Martin steps towards him as best he can, and they kiss softly for a few moments, out in the rain.

In time, the kitten, haphazardly clutched to Martin's chest, makes her displeasure at the soggy conditions known. Gripping hands tightly, Jon and Martin set off towards the bookstore, just a couple blocks over.

It’s quiet when they arrive, the morning pre-work rush over, and the student and lunch crowds far off yet. The two baristas and Tim descend upon them immediately when they see the small head poking out of Martin’s coat. There is much cooing and fuss over Luna, and Martin recounts the tale of discovering her in the back alley of Gerry’s bar.

Once they return to work, Jon and Martin settle on one of the sofas, a coffee table before them. They make up a small cat bed, which Luna explores for a few moments, before sitting at the edge and staring at Martin imploringly. He scopes her up and plops her inside, before placing the tiny bed right in his lap. She happily passes out after that, the wild adventures of the morning catching up with her little kitten body.

Deciding to truly have the day off, Jon does not take out his laptop and start working on it, instead ordering their tea, picking a book to read from the store, and bringing it all over to settle with his partner.

“Thank you for coming,” Martin tells him, a soft look on his face. He leans an elbow on the back of the couch, head resting on his fist. “I didn’t even realise how much I needed you until I saw you there.”

“I know,” Jon starts, frowning in concentration, “that I’m not always the best at sensing these things, that sometimes I can be too focused on myself and the things going on in my head. I do hope that I always manage to catch the important moments, and I trust that you’ll always let me know when I don’t.”

Jon pauses, and sighs, a self-deprecating smile lining his face. He continues, “I want to learn to be who you need me to be. I want to be for you, what you always are to me. I love you, Martin.”

“I love you too, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, before placing a sweet kiss in his palm. “You are exactly who I need you to be.”

It is a soft, hazy sort of day. The rain pours outside, and Jon lies against Martin and reads two books before lunchtime. Martin practices bottle-feeding Luna, every few hours, and Jon sits nearby watching nervously. He wonders vaguely if his partner is alarmed to be around an infant of any kind for a while, but on the third feeding, Jon seems to rouse himself and offers to give it a try.

Each time a new client comes in, there's a round of cooing and petting, and Martin worries that she’ll be spoiled rotten in no time. He imagines that if she spends much time here, he’ll have to sell cat treats and Luna will one day be as fat as a house.

At one point, Jon starts to read aloud, and Martin seems to fall asleep gently propped against his shoulder. He wakes to find Jon laughing softly and Luna learning to use him as a climbing frame.

"I think she likes you, love," Martin whispers into his hair.

"Well, I think I might like her too," Jon confesses, a world away from his scepticism of just this morning.

After lunchtime, Gerry flies into the store very manically, clutching a very strange backpack to his chest. It has a weird clear window, reminiscent of a ship’s porthole, and the rest of it is hard structured plastic.

He ducks down to kiss first Martin, then Jon, before thrusting the backpack into Martin's hands.

"What is this?" Martin asks, holding it away from himself as if it might bite.

"It's a cat backpack. Saturn has always preferred it to a normal cat basket, and I thought it might be useful if we need to take her to work with us and then back to various flats." Gerry walks around the table, bodily picking up Jon's legs and sitting beneath them. He looks like nothing so much as a large, damp bat, black trench coat flapping around him like over large wings. "I ordered her one of her own, but it won't be here for a few days, so I brought Saturn's in the meantime."

There's a beat of shocked silence, so Gerry adds, "Only if you want it, obviously."

"I- I do, thank you." Martin can feel himself blushing with odd pleasure.

He had made sure to ask them if they were okay with Martin keeping Luna, but he hadn't really expected them to embrace the situation with such gusto, and his heart burns with an odd intensity at their gestures of support.

It's almost-

It's almost like they love him, and care about all the things he cares about.

Martin sits, staring at a cat backpack, and allows the realisation to wash over him. It hits him like a tidal wave, despite the dozens and maybe hundreds of times they've said the words to him.

He feels very foolish, left floored by the fact that his lovers- well, that they love him!

Martin knows, understands even, that he has been left slightly broken by his father leaving, his mother hating him, the things that he chose to do to survive in his early adulthood. He does understand that, and yet he never realized that he was hearing Jon and Gerry say they love him and saying the words back, and yet subtly holding on to the (clearly mistaken) understanding that they don't really mean them.

It makes a sick kind of sense, clinging to the idea that they don't really care about him, so when they decide that they don't anymore, it doesn't leave him broken beyond repair.

Martin puts the cat bag down on the table, hands Luna to Gerry, and gets up. He waves at them reassuringly when they try to ask him what's wrong, before walking to the bathroom, locking the door, and sobbing like a child for several long moments.

As Luna grows, she spends time with each of them.

Gerry takes her most of the first nights, feeding her through the evenings and then handing her back to Martin as he leaves for the bookstore.

This means she spends quite a lot of her formative life in a bar, but when Martin goes in to check on them, he finds Gerry's plastered clientele just as enamored with the kitten as his own tea-drinking patrons.

Jon likes to have her in the late afternoons, keeping her at the library for a few sleepy hours before he leaves for the day. He tells Martin once that the children's reading group comes in during that time, and he likes to sit in with them and let Luna listen along.

The children, of course, adore her and Jon tells Martin very primly, "Listening comprehension is a very important skill in a developing infant."

Martin finds it hilarious and adorable and can't help but pull Jon into his arms and kiss him breathless, an unimpressed Luna trapped between them.

Saturn does not appreciate Luna at first, disappearing in a huff the first few times Martin brings her over to the studio.

"Don't worry about it, love." Gerry had waved away his concern casually. "He's just a jealous baby. He'll figure out that she wants to play with him eventually, and then they'll be the best of friends."

Indeed, Martin walks into the kitchen one morning to find the two cats curled together in a shaft of sunshine. Saturn is gently giving her a bath, and Luna purrs sweetly at the attention.

When Saturn notices him watching, he untangles himself, shows Martin his bum, and then disappears. He's reminded of nothing so much as Gerry himself, caught eating ice cream for breakfast, or smoking during the day, an activity he would insist is a nighttime pursuit only. The same drama is employed as a distraction technique, and Martin wonders whether the cat learnt it from the goth, or the goth learnt it from the cat.

Luna grows and settles, and Martin adores having her more than almost anything.

He takes the time, as they raise her, to force himself to accept his life for what it truly is. He puts aside the constant nagging fear that Jon and Gerry will lose interest in him one day and begins to notice all the ways they show him they love him, which makes the words all the more precious to him when they take the time to tell him.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #fic #also on ao3

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Eight

Table of Content or Part Thirty-Seven

Read here on wattpad

A/N: Question — what song do you think of when you think of Nikki and Viv? I'm trying to see something

Word count: 3.3k

Warning(s): Explicit language, Sexual situations, Drug abuse

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My bare feet hook underneath his thighs the second I realize he's about to finish and he gives a crooked smirk up at me, his breathing beginning to shallow.

Nikki holds my hips still, groaning out as his cum coats the inside of me, causing me to let out a hazey moan, my mind cloudy from our rather lengthy round.

Once he's finished, I'm getting off of him and falling beside him, catching my breath as we recover is silence fore several minutes.

"Are you on birth control or something?" He asks me out of nowhere and I tense up, looking at him.

"Why're you asking?"

"I've been thinking about it since Vince and Sharise had Skylar, for some reason. I mean, I haven't used a rubber since we started dating and most of the time I don't pull out, and we've only had one pregnancy scare in the past, what, like, four years?"

"You've managed to keep track of how long we've been together?" I ask him, pretending to be shocked and he gently hits my arm with the back of his hand, and I chuckle, rolling over to face him, my lips pressing to his bicep for a moment.

I think I'm in the clear, dodging his question, but I'm not.

"I'm being serious, Viv, are you on something or...?" He asks and I lick my lips.

"Maybe my antidepressant affects fertility, I don't know." I shrug, lying through my teeth. "Drugs can cause issues on your end, too, so maybe that's another reason."

"Oh." He replies.

I avoid looking at him, sitting up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed before reaching down to grab his shirt by my feet.

You know those lies, that start simple and small, and then snowball more and more over time and explode in flames from hell that melt the snow and turn it into scalding hot water that leaves third-degree burns on the person that's being lied to? Yeah, we both had lots of those, and that was one of mine.

take a shower and brush my teeth, excited for my plans tonight, and as I start putting makeup up on, Nikki's getting in the shower.

"Are you and Robin going out tonight?" I ask him.

"Uh, yeah. Sparkie's coming, too." He replies and I roll my eyes.

I know they'll go out to a club and hide in the bathroom, shooting up and snorting blow a majority of the time, only leaving to get some drinks.

"My doctor was really curious as to why I needed a refill so soon being that he gave me a month supply a week before Sparkie traded it." I comment to remind him Sparkie's a piece of shit.

"Sparkie learned his lesson, baby." He tells me in a half-chuckle and I raise my brows at myself in the mirror and turn the sink on.

"Jesus fuck, Viv!" He screams, being bombarded with ice cold water for a moment.

"Awe, I'm sorry, maybe Sparkie can sympathize with you." I reply smartly.

He's getting out of the shower, covered in suds, glaring at me, and I take off running with him chasing close behind.

"Spoiled brat!" He calls at me, the both of us naked as jaybirds.

"Trader bastard!" I say back, right before he catches me, pulling me against his wet, soapy body, his hands not skipping a moment to start tickling me.

I squeal, the both of us falling to the floor, my feet and legs kicking out of instinct.

"Don't you do it." He threatens. "Remember what happened last time."

"Not my fault you're a pussy." I reply, immediately regretting it when he starts tickling me again, this time, getting on top of me to pin me down.

He doesn't let up until I'm laughing so hard I'm in tears, and he's tired of struggling with me.

We look at each other for a minute, before he grins and kisses me.

"I gotta finish getting ready." He tells me, getting off of me and helping me up.

"Yeah, I do, too."

I decided a nice trip to Malibu would be a great thing for GN'R. I mean, go to Tansy's house there, have her invite over some of her single girl friends to mingle with the guys, stay over night so they don't have to worry about whether or not they'd be able to crash at their stripper friends' apartment and sleep on the floor that night, have a nice breakfast together the next morning, and just give Axl and Izzy time to really get to know Tansy, because they haven't hung out with her very much, while Slash, Duff and Steven see her almost more than I do.

I glance around the living room of Tansy's Malibu beach house, seeing beach bunnies all around with perfectly tanned skin, bombshell hair and perfect smiles, then look at Steven and Slash, who seem to be having a pretty good time.

They both look like they're in heaven, girls on either side of them, obviously fans of their work on the Sunset Strip back in L.A.

Izzy took a girl up to the guest bedroom long ago, while Axl's just nursing a bottle of Jack, with a beautiful brunette chattering his ear off while he's pretending not to care about what Tansy's doing as she talks to one of her girl friends across the room.

I do a mental head count, and notice my 6'4 blonde is nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he found a girl or two of his own and followed in Izzy's footsteps, taking over a spare room?

I brush it off, deciding it's none of my business and step to the kitchen to grab a Pepsi out of the fridge.

When I pass by the doors that lead to the balcony over looking the ocean, though, I see the outline of someone sitting in the lounge chair.

Recognizing the slender frame, I grab my soda and head outside, Duff looking over his shoulder to see who I am, before smiling at me innocently, bottle of Vodka by his foot and pack of Marlboros on one knee as a sketch pad and pen are being supported by his other.

"Hi." I say as he scoots over to make room for me. "Mr. Social Butterfly." I add, sarcastically.

"Hey." He replies, moving his Vodka over so I won't knock it down with my foot.

"I figured you be eating that up." I motion to the door, referring to the gorgeous girls inside and he chuckles a little.

"I don't know, I haven't really been feeling chicks lately." He tells me and I furrow my brows a little.

"Well, I'm sure she has some boy friends, too, if you're feeling something different." I inform him, knowing what he meant, but he laughs and shakes his head.

"Not like that, Viv." He tells me and I pull my red hair behind my shoulders to get it out of my face, before taking a sip of my drink. "I've been, uh, working on something new, kinda. The lyrics have been going off left and right in my head, I just thought I'd better get somewhere quiet and write them down before I lose them." He explains, holding up his notepad.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I feel like I've intruded, or messed up his groove, about to leave him alone to finish but he puts his hand on my knee to stop me from standing up.

"No, no, it's fine." He insists, taking his hand off of me, not thinking anything of it, despite me feeling warmth radiate from where he touched me.

I ignore it.

"I've already gotten everything I had in mind, so far." He explains. "Just a verse and chorus."

"What's the name of it?" I ask, and he scratches the back of his neck.

"I don't know if I need to tell you. I'm superstitious about this stuff, Viv." He tells me, even though he's completely full of shit.

He just wants to aggravate me.

"It's just the title, Duff. You let me hear you say 'turn around, bitch, I gotta use for you' and this can't be worse than that." I point out and he chuckles, licking his lips before looking at me.

His hand covers the lyrics, exposing the title line of the page.

"Paradise City" is scribbled in his writing and I smile when he moves his hand and let's me read the chorus, and verse that he's gotten so far, a giant smile pulling at my lips.

"Who the hell inspired this?" I ask him, raising my brows.

"Nobody particular." He shrugs. "You like it?"

"I already love it." I tell him.

Not to compare two completely different bands who earned their names all on their own, but there are a few song parallels between Guns N' Rose's Appetite for Destruction, and Mötley Crüe's Girls, Girls, Girls albums.

Guns' Welcome to the Jungle was like Mötley's Wild Side. Paradise City was like Girls, Girls, Girls. Mr. Brownstone was like Dancing on Glass. But my favorite parallel has to be Sweet Child O Mine and You're All I Need.

I remember Nikki had given me a tape of You're All I Need after we got into a massive argument because he thought I was spending too much time with Duff. But he had practically accused me of having feelings for Duff, and even acting on them (which was pretty hypocritical being that he'd been screwing Vanity since 1986 at that point.)

A few weeks later, Nikki convinced me to come down to the studio so he could personally give me a copy of a song he had written me, and me--being excited--decided I wanted the guys to hear it, too.

I went to the Franklin Plaza where Steven, Duff, Slash, Izzy and Axl were hanging out, discussing a meeting they'd had with their label.

When I told them Nikki wrote a love song about me (thinking it was his way of trying to patch up our marriage and say to the world "I love this woman") the guys had to hear it, not believing me.

The ballad started beautifully, tears coming to my eyes, but my warmed heart quickly began boiling in my chest by the time the second chorus ended.

"I don't think this is a love song." Izzy stated, while shaking his head a little.

"Yeah, uh...he's talking about killing you." Axl had told me, everyone seemed slightly disturbed.

"Your girlfriends get Sweet Child O Mine and what does the dedicated wife that has done nothing but love this sick bastard get?! A song dedicated to his deep desire to murder me!"

"Dude, hasn't he actually tried to kill you before?" Steven asked.

Which made the song even more ironic, along with the last line of the chorus, "and I loved you but you didn't love me" which in itself was slap in the fucking face.

I didn't hear the full song at that time because Duff had took it out of the player and stomped it under his cowboy boot.

That pretty much set the tone for the months to come.

"You're also incredibly biased." He replies in the same tone and I nudge him with my elbow.

"You don't know how many songs I have actually had to tear out of Nikki's hand and hide them from him because they were so bad I just could not allow them to be recorded." I tell him.

"Oh, please." He brushes me off.

"Have you heard 'Theater of Pain'?" I ask him with raised brows.

"Yeah."

"Home Sweet Home and Smokin' in the Boy's Room were the only really good ones. And Smokin' in the Boy's Room was a cover. The other songs were songs I didn't know were written, or I would have hid them from him, too." I state and he tries not to laugh, but fails, making himself snort, which kickstarts my laughter.

Once we settle down, he clears his throat, and gets a kind of serious expression on his face.

"I really wish he wasn't on that shit, Viv." He tells me and I don't even have to ask who he's talking about. "I mean, I'm not judging him or whatever because Izzy and Slash are in on that stuff, too, but...I just hate to see he's on it, because it's kinda hard to manage it once you hit a certain point, ya know?" He asks and I nod a little. "I think he's a pretty cool guy...so it sucks to see him act like that."

"It's not that bad, right now." I tell him, completely in denial. "He's still Nikki, he just does stuff he's not suppose to. That's nothing new to me."

"I'm just a little worried, is all." He admits.

"There's no need to be." I reassure him. "He's got a handle on things."

Dear God did I eat those words a week later in Dallas, Texas.

It's like watching a fucking car accident.

Except instead of a car, it's my husband, and instead of a car accident, it's him losing his ever loving mind, crouched on the hotel room desk, as he babbles on, making absolutely no sense as he shouts at his parents who aren't even present.

I just came back from the pool, got a shower, and came in to him doing this.

"Nikki!" I try to get him out of whatever drug-induced show he's on.

"I'm not me! I'm not Nikki! I'm someone else!" He insists, hands yanking at his hair, his eyes completely taken over by an entirely different beast.

I panic, immediately calling Fred.

"The fuck is wrong?!" He asks when I open the door, hearing Nikki's screaming and carrying on and I try to keep the absolute fear that's locking up my system from showing.

"I-I don't know. I got in from the pool and he was kinda jittery but I thought he'd done some blow, but then he started screaming when I was in the shower and now he's--"

Fred gets tired of hearing Nikki's meaningless shrieks at people who aren't in the room with us, and snatches him off the desk.

Nikki hits the floor, and a switch is flipped, sending him into strong convulsions, opting thick, white foam to pour from his mouth.

"Fuck, Sixx!" Fred lets out, turning him on his side. "Get me a roll of toilet-paper." He barks at me and I do as I'm told, saying a very colorful, silent prayer in my head.

He tries to get Nikki to bite down on it to keep him from biting his tongue, but Nikki can't do it. screaming instead.

When I think I can't take the confused, scared, out-of-character shrill, it's like God himself knocks Nikki out, leaving Fred and I in complete silence, riddled with what just happened.

Fred checks his pulse and sighs in relief, looking at me.

"Viv, are you alright?" He asks me, taking deep breaths.

"Y-yeah." I say, nodding, even though I know it's written all over my face that I can't be further from "alright."

"Vivian--"

"I just need a second." I tell him, standing up to go to the bathroom, disguising oncoming tears in a strong, steady voice that's physically uncomfortable to push past the lump in my throat.

I lock myself inside the bathroom and turn the water back on, gripping the counter before I find myself in the floor, quiet sobs rocking through me.

I just want my Nikki back...not this tainted demon nesting himself in Nikki's skin, festering his bullshit in Nikki's mind.

By the time I'm worn down from crying, and tired from lying on the bathroom floor, I pull myself up and open the bathroom door, stepping into the room.

I guess Fred put Nikki in the bed before he left, because Nikki's still passed out, just tucked in the covers.

I get pajamas on, scared to even touch him because I don't want him to start seizing again.

Cautiously getting closer to him, nestling my forehead against his arm, I thank God for the feeling of his pulse under my finger tips in the crook of his arm, and find myself passing out with utter exhaustion.

The next morning, Nikki's really quiet.

I'm not sure if he remembers what happened last night, but I'm not asking him.

After finding a needle and evidence of an 8-ball of coke, he can lick my twat if he thinks I'm talking to him anytime soon.

The video shoot for Home Sweet Home is happening today, and a limo picks Nikki and I up at the hotel, driving us to the venue, neither of us acknowledging the other.

Once we get there, someone's dressing Nikki like a damn toddler, because he's too fucked from last night to dress himself in his done up stage costume.

Nikki was so, so, so, obviously, utterly fucked up when they filmed the music video for Home Sweet Home.

The entire time, he was chugging Jack to try to calm himself down from a high he later described felt like, "being on acid and speed at the same time" and with the way he was acting like he couldn't see a damn thing, I believe it.

He kept sunglasses on a majority of the time so people couldn't see how his eye were practically doing cartwheels.

"Viv, we're about to start, where's Nikki?" His bass tech asks me and I glance around, furrowing my brows a little.

"I haven't seen in him about an hour. He went over there by the stage...at least I think he did." I tell him, stepping over to the last place I saw him. "He was here and..." I trail off, hearing Nikki having a full blown conversation, his voice coming from underneath the stage.

The two of us sit and listen for a moment, realizing Nikki's just talking, taking long pauses, then answering a question that was never asked by anybody, not even himself.

"Who is he talking to?" His tech asks me under his breath so Nikki won't hear.

I roll my jaw, getting fed up.

"Probably the fucking demon he sees and befriends every time he gets high." I state, fully believing that at this point, there is indeed a demon following him around, breathing down his neck, stripping him of his control and cheering him on with each grain of coke, bottle of Jack, cc of heroin and prescription-grade pill.

"Nikki," His tech starts. "Who're you talking to?"

"I'm talking. Leave me alone." Nikki argues.

"Nikki." I state, looking at him.

It's the first time he's heard my voice all day.

"There's nobody there, baby. C'mon." I motion my hand for him to get out from under the stage.

"Leave me alone!" He snaps at me, nearly hissing.

"Dude, calm down, you're freaking out." His tech tells him.

"Nikki, get your ass out from under there or so help me God, I will come in and drag you out by your dick." I promise him.

He puffs up like a pissed off rooster and stomps out, passing by us, grumbling under his breath.

Do you wanna know what was really fucked up about that time? Vince couldn't have a beer without someone losing their mind. He was supposed to be sober. Nikki would bust Vince's balls if he even saw him looking at a bottle...but then Nikki would load anything and everything into his body, simultaneously.

Vince quickly became the odd man out, and had been ever since that night with Razzle. There was this vibe, this tension, that Vince was only kept in the band at that time, because they were getting hotter and hotter, and each member was the ticket to reach their full potential as a band. Each member was important.

Without Tommy, there was no band. Without Mick, there was no band. Without Nikki, there was no band.

And without Vince, there was no band...that was the one that really didn't sit too well with Sikki.

#nikki sixx #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #mötley crüe #the dirt

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nothingbutfangirlsmut · 4 years

Text

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader & Sam x Reader

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and some eventual smut once the story reaches that point.

Chapter 9

It didn't take long for me to get back to the apartment. The door was still open and Kate along with two others were standing in the hall. She stepped away from the men when she saw me.

"How is he?" She asked with clear concern.

I just shook my head then pushed past her. When I reached the open door to our apartment one of the men stepped in front of me.

"You can't go in there." He said sternly.

"I live here. I can do as I please." I said coldly.

The man just looked down at me with hard eyes. I huffed out a breath of frustration then grabbed the man around the waist. I picked him up with ease then sat him back down to the side out of my way. I walked inside the apartment quickly grabbing two backpacks. I stuffed some of Steve's clothes in one then I did the same with my clothes in the other bag. I threw them both over a shoulder then left. I ignored the two agents trying to talk to me as I left.

It was late morning now. The sun would be up shortly. I decided to take the leap and see if Sam was on a run this morning. We lived close to the area we usually ran. I stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. I could see someone running in the distance. I stayed on the steps waiting for him to make his way back towards me. It was a good 20 minutes before he got close.

I picked up the bags I had throwing them back over my shoulder. I jogged down the stairs then stood in the middle of his running path. He noticed me immediately and started to slow down until he stood right in front of me.

"What do I owe this pleasure? Not looking for a race I hope." He smiled at me.

"No, I was just hoping I'd find you here." I said matter of factly.

The sun was coming up on the horizon painting the sky a light pink.

"Oh, so you were looking for me?" He asked raising a brow at me.

"Steve asked me to find you. Somethings going on or about to happen. All I know is he wanted me to grab some clothes then find you then wait on him to call." I explained quickly.

"Alright, you hungry?" He asked as we both started walking.

"Starving actually" I chuckled lightly.

We walked back to his apartment which wasn't far. He unlocked the door then gestured for me to go in first. Once inside I took in my surrounds. It was a nice place. Well decorated and very clean. There was subtle hints of his military background. I was able to spot them due to living with Steve. He did the same things.

Sam was in front of me suddenly. He was smiling ear to ear. He leaned closer to me. My breath caught in my chest. My heart started pumping faster. His grin turned into a smirk as he grabbed the bags from my hands. He winked then walked away down the hallway to my right.

He was back in the room a few seconds later. I followed him into the kitchen as he started grabbing a few things.

"Water?" He asked holding a bottle in his hand.

I nodded. He tossed the bottle to me then grabbed another for himself.

"I put your bags in the bedroom. You can crash in there. I'll take the couch." Sam said as he worked.

"What? No! I'm not taking your bed Sam. The couch is totally fine." I told him waving my hands dismissively.

He chuckled and glanced up at me.

"I know I don't look like it but I am a gentleman. No way in hell I'm gonna let a pretty lady such as yourself crash on the couch." He explained while smiling down at the food he was cooking.

"How chivalrous" I chuckled.

Sam had me pull two plates out from his cabinet and set them on the counter. He made us both a plate then sat at the small table in the corner.

"Thank you for the food." I told him.

"Anytime gorgeous" he winked at me.

We were silent for a few minutes as we both ate.

"So how do you know Captain America?" He asked leaning back in his seat.

"We grew up together." I stated simply.

"Wait, you're from the 1940s?" He asked in surprise.

"I told you when we met I was in the same situation as Steve." I chuckled lightly.

"That's not what I thought you meant." He shook his head.

"Yea, I was born in 1920. I lived in Brooklyn where I met Steve when we were kids. We were inseparable after that." I informed him

"Wow, so that makes you what? 94 years old?" He asked with a humorous grin.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you not to mention a lady's age?" I asked smirking at him.

"Can I at least say you look incredibly stunning for your age." He smiled.

I couldn't help but laugh. His energy was very infectious.

"So what happened to you?" He asked leaning on the table.

"Not sure really. Last thing I remember is walking home from my volunteer shift in May of 1946. I was kidnapped by someone. Then I woke up here in 2013. It's hard to believe I've already been here for almost a year."

"Why would someone want to kidnap you?" Sam asked.

"Not sure. Still trying to figure that one out. They also altered my memories and froze my in a mountain in the Swiss Alps. There's a lot of questions I have but no answers."

"They altered your memories?" He asked looking very intrigued.

I nodded.

"How?"

"Don't know. My sister and Steve have both told me about a man I was friends with along with Steve. I apparently had feelings for him. There's even photos of us together but I have no memory of him. I only know his name because of Gracie and Steve." I explained.

"This must be really hard for you." He said simply.

"Not really. I've come to feel more comfortable in this time than I was back then. There were so many rules and so much expected of women. They had to find a good husband to take care of them. They had to take care of the house, have kids and raise them, and cook and clean. I never saw that kind of life for myself. I wanted to support myself. I never wanted to depend on a man. Now, I can literally do whatever I want. Nothing is expected of me."

Sam just stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. His face broke out into a wide grin then he chuckled. Sam took the plates and laid them in the sink. We moved from the table to the couch.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked turning to look at him.

"Of course" he answered turning to face me.

"You keep calling me pretty lady. Is that because you actually think that or you're just being nice?" I asked trying to hide the blush creeping up my face.

He chuckled lightly.

"I think you're gorgeous. You're very interesting. Normally I don't go for woman with such a large age gap between us but I think I can look past it this once." He grinned at me.

I laughed playfully slapping his arm.

"I'm a science experiment. You know I'm just like Steve right?" I asked him.

"Super soldier?" He asked raising a brow.

I nodded. He scooted closer to me. His leg was brushing against mine. Just that small amount of contact had my heart racing. What is it about him that keeps making me so nervous?

"I'll just lay this out there. I'm only slightly intimidated by the fact you can easily bench press me without breaking a sweat but there's just something about you. You're beautiful and a total mystery it seems. I would love to be given the chance to figure you out." His smile was warm and charming.

"And what would happen if you figured the mystery of me out?" I asked while trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my body.

"I honestly don't think I ever could solve it completely. You seem the type that would always be full of surprises and always keep me on my toes." He chuckled softly.

"Would you like to go grab some coffee or something?" I asked hesitantly.

I hope he would catch on to what I was trying to ask. I've never done this before.

"Willow Roffe, are you asking me on a date?" He questioned narrowing his eyes while trying to hide his smirk.

"Yes" I said quietly.

His smile grew as he chuckled. My stomach was turning into a mess making my want to throw up the breakfast I had just ate.

"I would love to." He finally said.

I was suddenly overcome with a happiness I had never felt before. I was suddenly excited and nervous and very aware of how close he was to me. He stood up and reached his hand out to me. I grabbed his hand letting him pull me to my feet.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" He asked still holding my hand.

I nodded unsure if I could actually form words in that moment. He smiled and pulled me out of his apartment. Once we were outside he didn't let go of my hand instead he tangled his fingers around mine and squeezed lightly.

I was a smiling like a fool as we walked around the city just chatting and getting to know each other better. I had to remember to thank Steve later for sending me to find Sam. After a while of walking we stopped in a park and sat on one of the benches under a tree.

"So, there's something you should know." I said quietly.

"What?" He asked looking down at me.

"I've never done anything like this before." I confessed.

"You've never been on a date?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Never. I was always with Steve getting into some kind of trouble. I never took the time to be interested in anyone. Unless you want to count the man I don't remember." I chuckled.

"Nah, we won't count him." Sam laughed.

Sam placed his fingers under my chin. He moved my head for me to lock my eyes with his.

"So, if you've never been on a date before does that mean you've never kissed anyone?" He asked glancing down to my lips.

"I don't recall ever kissing someone." I said quietly.

He smiled making my heart leap into my throat. He leaned close as he watched me carefully. It felt like he was taking an eternity that I didn't want to wait on. I reached up to him closing the distance between us. My lips pressed against his and my body came alive. It was like everything was brand new. Every nerve I had was at attention and screaming for joy under my skin. Sam pulled back leaving his forehead against mine. I felt breathless.

"How was your first kiss?" He asked softly as he brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. There was no words I could use to describe how I felt. Instead, I grabbed his face and pulled him back to me. The kiss was harder this time as I seemed to gain a confidence I'd never felt before. Sam was the one to pull away again.

"Why don't we head back to my apartment. I could use some lunch." He smiled down at me.

I nodded standing to follow him.

---

Masterlist

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #the girl out of time #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson

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rusticpumpkin-blog · 6 years

Text

Beyond Love | Paul Lahote | 1 |

Kathryn Swan was a girl who loved her family but in a matter of seconds, her old life was taken away from her. Broken and permanently scarred she moves in with the only family she has left her uncle Charlie. Now she's faced with changes she didn't even think possible.

A Paul Lahote love story.

(This takes place 2 years after the end of breaking dawn pt 2)

|Previous|----|Next|

Everything is exactly the same way I remember it being 5 years ago, from the way the furniture in the living room was positioned to the stacks of VHS tapes that were under the TV in the entertainment center. It kind of hurt the way that things are so constant here. Like nothing happened. But that was the way it was Bella had warned me about it, nothing here changes, it never does.

It still rains too much, making everything seem dismal even in the house that had dim lights that were probably older than me. I scoffed at the thought because I knew that couldn’t be true… about all of the bulbs in the house anyway.

There were old photos on the wall that seemed to have been recently dusted of Bella, Aunt Renee, and Uncle Charlie hung up probably years and years ago before Rene left and went somewhere sunny. Somewhere like where I came from. Even the bright smiles in most of the photos that I still remembered from my childhood weren’t enough to make the room any lighter but maybe that was just me… it’s been hard lately.

"Bellas old room?" I sighed as Charlie walked in behind me having some issues with the suitcase he offered to carry for me, it was mostly clothes, a few art supplies but the size of it and the muddy ground that he didn’t want it to touch was what made it difficult.

He nodded out of breath, "I'm goin to order a pizza the drive back took longer than I thought it would." He said sitting the luggage down so I could grab the handle and wheel it towards the stairs.

I nodded pizza sounded good, something quick and easy that doesn’t make awkward dinner table conversations obligatory. "Is there anything that you won't eat?" He asked I could tell that this change was going to be awkward for him, but he was trying harder than he wanted me to realize. So I decided that I'm going to try to make this whole situation as easy as possible, for both of us.

"Not really, sardines but if you want them I can just pick them off." I shrugged as he handed me my other duffel bag and I started up the stairs. "No one eats sardines and enjoys it." He said trying to make a joke and I laughed at it, even though it sucked.

"In the morning we can run out and get things that you might need if you want." He offered. "I'm not a morning person." I muttered shrugging before continuing, "But thanks for the offer, I think I'm good. If I figure anything that I really need I'll let you know." I assured him, he nodded seeming to understand that I just wanted to go to bed and I was thankful for that.

Bella's old room is smaller than the one I had back at home. like everything in this house from the magnates on the fridge to the boots lined on the wall by the front door, everything in here was in the same place too.

I was too tired to think about rearranging anything tonight, I just dropped my bags on the bare bed and pulled out a pair of sweats and a tank top so that i could go do that thing that over the past few months I've grown to hate.

It’s not that I actually dislike showering but I hate the 'avoid the mirror' game. I had to do it because I would get sick every time I saw myself and what I've been reduced to.

While I was in the hospital and the aftermath of the accident, I've lost almost 50 pounds. I was, to be honest at a healthy weight for my height, the greatest shape I've been in in my life. But the way my once vivid icy grey eyes that I once prided myself on as being my best feature were now dim and gaunt, I had dark circles under them, from a mixture of sleepless and nightmare filled nights. I looked just as sick as I felt when I saw the rest of my skin.

The scars were the worst part, they were what made me really want to not look. They made me hate my own skin but being dragged behind a flipped car on the asphalt for about 50 feet will do that too someone. It could definitely be worse, I could be dead too.

Without even realizing it I was doing it again, staring. That's how I know its hard for other people not to, if I cant not look how can I expect anyone else to?

They ranged from a little over 2 inches wide on my left arm and leg to about 10 inches wide on my side and hip, thick slightly raised scars going down the left side of my body. My head wasn't even untouched, most of my left ear is gone. I have a scar going down my jaw and even light places on my cheek the 'lucky' part about those is that they were light, so makeup would help but nothing would ever take them all the way away. Unless I wanted to get surgery which considering how long I spent at the hospital before meant it wasn’t going to happen for a long time, if at all.

My tawny brown hair was the only thing that really hasn't changed all that much. There was a small patch around my ear that no longer grew and a portion around my ear that had to be buzzed off so I could get staples to hold my scalp shut. My hair looked just as dreary as my eyes it made me look unhealthy but being unhealthy meant I was still alive.

I was lucky

After my shower, I knew the pizza was probably here but I was too tired to care about the rumbling in my stomach at this point. I walked to what was now my room across the hall and lay down on the bed. I had every intention of getting up and going to find a pillow and blanket for myself from the hall closet but I was asleep before I had the chance.

…

I sat a week later, at the kitchen table sipping my coffee and scrolling through my social media feed. Even with me gone all of my friends were still able to function as proper 18-year-olds. Having fun and going to parties without me like it wasn't any different. I'm not going to lie and say that it doesn't hurt that I haven't even gotten any text messages telling me how much they miss me or to check in on me but it is what it is. Things outside of this place change and this is just one of them.

I don't expect to have ‘friends’ until I start working which I don't know how long that's going to be. There are only a few family own businesses in this little town and none of them are hiring right now anyway.

Charlie says that I don't need to worry about working or a job but I do. I don't want to be a financial burden on him after the insurance money stops. If I had been 18 before all this, I wouldn't even have had to move in with him period.

Charlie's been nothing but supportive. In his own awkward way, Bella thinks that its because he's happy that he's not living alone anymore. But I still kinda get the ‘I’m going to be super nice because of the hard time you’ve been having’ vibe off of him.

Speaking of Bella, I haven't got to see her yet. She's went with her own family on a trip to Africa… I think anyway I can't say 100% that I remember what she told me.

My whole life here has been nothing but a haze considering the nightmares have only gotten worse with the change of scenery. More vivid and realistic but it helps me wake up sooner I guess so there's that. I know that Charlie is concerned about them but there's nothing that I can do short of not sleeping at all. Which is what I do if I can help it even if that bothers him too.

"I thought you weren't a morning person." Charlie said walking in and confusing me because I thought he had left for work earlier but he was dressed in a flannel and jeans instead of his police uniform. Thinking about it, since I’ve been here I don’t remember ever seeing him in anything else, it was weird like seeing a teacher in public or something.

"Couldn't sleep." I muttered shrugging.

"Do you have any plans for today?" He asked knowing full well that I didn't. He just wanted to know if it was ok with me if I got out of the house, which I have yet to do, in a polite way.

"No, whats up?" I asked not looking up from my phone a stale meme looking really interesting all of a sudden.

"A friend of mine is having a barbeque out on the beach in La Push.” He said referring to the Native American reservation that was a 20-minute drive away from here.

"Sounds fun, I love seeing old dudes cook on a grill and argue about football," I said sarcastically rolling my eyes.

"Fireworks and a bonfire, there will be other kids around your age there." He said as if attempting to sell me on the idea, he wasn’t doing a good job, kids my age are assholes. "You remember Jacob Black?" He asked me the name did ring a bell. "I think so," I said remembering a lanky copper skinned boy with pants that were never quite long enough for him but he was always shorter than me. "The kid that you and Bella used to play with." He added attempting to jog my memory.

"That skinny kid?" I scoffed making him bark out a laugh. "Yeah, he's not little anymore." He sighed in a way that made it sound like Jake had gained weight. "Quill and Embry live out there still too?" I asked remembering them too, we’d all been in our own little pack, fighting imaginary sea monsters at the beach (Mostly just clumps of seaweeds that had washed up from high tide).

He nodded. "Alright, I'll be ready in like 2 minutes," I said jogging up stairs.

#paul lahote #twilight #twilight wolves #twilight breaking dawn #twilight eclipse #twilight new moon #breaking dawn #brady fuller #embry call #jared cameron #jacob black #quileute wolves #quil ateara #quileute #bella swan #charlie swan

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estrxlar · 3 years

Text

The Ghost Of You

04 - Learning To Receive

These chapters songs:

Moonlight On The River; Mac Demarco

Nostalgic Feel; Bedroom

New Flesh; Current Joys

——

TW: Self-harm, death.

(Not done by you, don't worry)

——

- K.S. Perspective

Only two or three days had passed since high school had started, which meant only a couple more walks home with Y/n. They were shorter and quiet, and of course, there weren't any swerving cars.

But so far, what I had suspected was correct. She and I made amends and became buddies, thankfully.

The only times she was left alone were when I had morning practice, and she had to have one of her friends drive her home. Either that or she would have to walk home alone. I would've loved to accompany her, but volleyball was something I didn't take lightly, and my priorities were important to me.

Both I and my younger brother participated in volleyball and gave it our all ever since we were able to balance on our feet. Sadly, our parents were far too busy to go to any games, or even help us practice at home. But their goal was for their kids to grow up strong and steady with good grades and good stats, so that's why they made sure my younger brother and I were on top of our shit.

Once my first year ended, I didn't expect that I would have to carry so many burdens all in one year. That's around the time mother had died from sickness, which left me with doubts, wishes, and an unaccomplished relationship with her.

After the sudden death, our family didn't move on very well. My brother developed anxiety and depression, and he eventually had to take a break from school and volleyball. Then, my father became dull and increased his hours at work to avoid coming home to such a depressing home, leaving my brother and me to continue caring for ourselves, by ourselves.

I, on the other hand, had barely anything to say about it. All I could do was pose as if I were handling it better than I had. Truth is, my mother's death changed my entire persona. I grew grim and gummy, deprived myself of rest, and repressed the trauma I've received. Not only did I overwork myself because of volleyball and stress, but I also grieved in harmful ways. It'd either be a blade to the wrist, or a night with a girl; anything that could help distract me from my state of deep dejection.

It's been that way ever since. Only recently have I realized that I'm ruining whatever recovery I built up. That was all because of my best friend— Daichi— who had helped me come out about my feelings towards my mom's passing. Ever since, I've been able to learn from my mistakes, and slowly pick my life back up. I was beginning to become a better player for my team, better support for my family, and a better person for myself.

That only happened recently. So now, I'm left with lots of things to mend, and relationships to make. I'm determined that I'll mourn more healthily than before.

——

"Y/n!" A hopeful call leaves my lips, turning her head. As assumed, it was Y/n. Today she looked even brighter than before; she just has gotten more sleep. Not to mention she wore long socks instead of leggings, which must have been pretty hard in this weather.

I didn't get to see her this morning due to morning practice, but I did catch her before lunch. Just enough time to tell her I won't be riding the bus tonight either.

I look both ways of the cross hallway, before grabbing my book bag strap with both hands and jogging towards Y/n. I wasn't sure why I was so eager to see her, but all I knew was I needed a refreshing moment, and she could give me exactly that.

"Why hello, Mrs. Refreshing!" I joke, bowing my head towards her while she giggled. Looking up, she stands there, shining by the sunlight that reflected on the windows.

'If I could, I'd take a photo of you right here, just to show you how gorgeous you are.' I quickly put a halter on my thoughts, snapping back to a respectful filter. 'No, I can't do that. Not to myself, most definitely not to Y/n.'

"You look nice today!" I exclaim, awkwardly patting the side of my hips while smiling at her. Hopefully, I hadn't made her uncomfortable in the first ten seconds of talking to her. The last thing I wanted was to ruin yet another relationship with a girl.

Thankfully, Y/n responded with kind appreciation to my comment. "Why thank you, sir. And what brings you in my presence?" Her words curl in a formal British accent, adding onto our joke.

Standing normally, I explain, "Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say hi, and to tell you I might not be walking home with you today. I'm really sorry, practice has been very necessary for our team. I-I hope you understand." I stutter on the last part, with a gentle tone to add on. Ditching Y/n for most of the week wasn't what I had planned at first, but what I had told her was 100% true. The first years, as well as the rest of us, we're in bad shape. With our spring tournament coming up, we had no time to waste.

"Oh, that's alright. I understand. I was in volleyball too, after all. Although, I do wish you could still accompany me. It gets a little lonely.." She looks down for a minute while I contemplate my existence entirely. 'So it does bother her.' But she quickly caught onto my thoughts by my expression and came up with a solution. "If— if you'd like, I can simply stay near the gym until practice is over! That way I can see you and your boys in action, yeah?"

Her fists pop up into the air, as a bright smile appeared on her face. If you didn't know Y/n personally, you would expect them to be cold stone and dull. But in reality, I find they're like everybody else, and have a bright side to them, just like the one that was being portrayed right now.

Nodding with her statement, I reply hesitantly. "Hm, I'd have to ask the captain, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind—"

"Oh, Daichi? We're buddies, he'll be alright." I'm dazed by what she'd said, pausing the motion of rubbing my neck. She and Daichi hang in completely different groups, though! 'How is it they know each other? They hang around two very different friend groups.. that is unless they have some type of history I'm unaware about.' I think to myself, trying my best to find a reason they would be friends, but I couldn't. And so, I begin my questioning. "You two know each other?"

Suddenly, Y/ns gaze twists. "Suga, you introduced me to them during our first year, silly. Remember? I went with you from practice once. And besides that, my good friend Miya is close to him."

"Oh, yeah! I remember that. That means you only know Asahi, Daichi, and Kiyoko, right? I've gotta introduce you to the rest of the team! I'm sure they've missed you!" I chuckle, throwing an arm around her shoulders cautiously, expecting her to reject it. But she goes on casually with our discussion.

"That's right.. well... I'm also— sort of— friends with them. Well, except Asahi. But Kiyoko and I are pretty close."

'?' I tilt my head at the uncertain tone she spoke with. "Pretty close?" I ask, turning into the cafeteria with my arm still around her. The room is, of course, crowded as hell.

Still, I manage to draw out what Y/n was saying to me, leaning my ear close to her mouth for better audio. "Yes! She's one of my best friends.. we used to date and it didn't work out, but we're pretty tight!"

'DID I HEAR THAT RIGHT?!' My eyes widen, and I immediately let go of her, tightening my hands around the strap of my school bag. A gulp falls down my throat before I ask, "Did you say.. date?! You mean you two went out?!"

To my surprise, Y/n nods proudly. "Yes! Why, did you not think she'd go out with a girl? Or is it so astonishing that I could ever get a girl like her?" She teases, while I'm still puzzled. So many questions ran through my head at the sudden fact: was Kiyoko gay? Was Y/n gay?! Does that mean she's gotten closer to Kiyoko than anyone before??

"Suga, calm down. It's not like we're still together. As I said, it didn't work out!" She smirks towards me, putting a finger up towards her cheek. "Why? You got a little crush on her..? I wouldn't blame you."

"N-no! It's not like that! It's just— she never told any of us. I guess she just keeps to herself more than predicted." My sentence comes out to sound like a question, rather than a response. It wasn't that I didn't support it, or that I was surprised Kiyoko would be her girlfriend. Honestly, I was just a little jealous of both of them.

Either way, it seemed it didn't work out. So it didn't matter now. "Anyway, we're about best friends now, so I'm pretty familiar with your team. I don't think they would mind if I came, but just in case, I'll ask Daichi and Kiyoko." She explains, before looking back towards the slowly dying crowd of students in front of the cafeteria. "I better go soon, Suga. I'll let your captain know I'll be heading over there later—"

"Wait!" I shut my eyes out of nervousness, as my brain wires work to come up with an excuse for why I yelled that. "You used to play volleyball, right?"

An awkward nod from Y/n is given to me, followed by, "Yes, but I was sort of just a bench warmer. Nothing big." The hands that held her lunch box gripped tighter, as she suspected I would ask her a favor much larger than a lunch.

"Mind helping me teach one of our new members how to receive?" I say. "His name is Hinata, and he's a first year. He has great talent and has great potential, but he kind of... sucks at volleyball. I mean, from what I've heard, he practices a lot. But I just think he needs some guidance. So, want to?"

"Uhm... I'm pretty rusty.. but sure! It wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, I think I need a break from my friends wouldn't do any harm."

'Yes, I did it.' I thought to myself, before leading her towards the doors that led to the gym. "Alright then, right this way!"

"Suga! Don't you need your bag?" She immediately asks, tugging on my collared shirt. But I shake my head, responding with a light smile.

"It's already outside, I just came to check on you, is all."

——

Up, down, and up again went the ball. Each receive that Hinata had tried had failed every time. At this point, I wouldn't blame Y/n if she wanted to leave. But there she sits against the concrete wall of the outside of the gym, licking white rice off a spoon.

"Hinata, drop your hips down more," I say to him, demonstrating the position I had stated. "Hit the ball like you're trying to return it where it came from. Got it?"

Hinata's light expression appears on his face once again. "Yeah, got it!" He exclaims, before getting right into position. I signal the ball is going in the air before my palm hits it in the right spot, sending it towards him.

And it shoots right back, along with a slap against Hinata's wrists. "Nice!" He praises himself, leaving a feeling of proudness deep within me.

I'd never been able to teach somebody one of my special skills and having them accomplish it, not the way I did with Hinata. But that was mostly because he was driven by his entire body and soul to memorize every movement in his muscles to create a perfect receive. And who had taught him that? Your one and only.

"Would you like me to start setting for you tomorrow morning?" I ask the ginger with confidence he'd reply with a yes. Thankfully, that's exactly what happened. His eyes light up in the sun, and his hands take full hold of the ball. "Y-you mean it, sir?!"

The cold wind hits me, as well as another dosage of serotonin from the first year."Well, I am Karasuno's official setter after all! And you wanna practice spikes, right?" I ask, placing my red hands onto my hips.

"Exactly! I love to spike! It feels so good when you get it right, and it's cooler than anything!" He shouts. I couldn't help but laugh at his excitement, even if it wasn't the first time he'd portrayed it. Hinata sure reminded me of my past self, and I'd do anything to help first-year Sugawara.

Y/n suddenly joins our conversation, digging into a reason why Hinata is the way he is when it comes to spikes. "You must have a thing for spiking, don't you?"

Hinata nods, putting a fist towards his face. "Yes. I didn't have a setter throughout middle school, and I was actually the only club member until my third year of junior high. I used to get my friend in the Basketball Club to toss for me, but after I had dropped out of the club, I went to anybody that could help me practice. Take the first years, and the ladies and setters from the girls' team, too. I've made a lot of friends along the way, but none of those people could ever become my real teammates. That's why I was dying to find out what kind of setters were in high school— but now.. you know."

Hinatas pure passion dies down once he reaches the word 'setter', and I wouldn't blame him. The person he's supposed to be paired with is his complete opposite, and frankly, a dick-head. "Well, as I said, I'm a setter too. I'll toss you a few, Hinata! Don't get all down."

I was expecting further satisfaction, but instead, his expression twists into envy. "But it's just that if I have you throw to me now, it kind of feels like... I'm losing." He frowns, looking away from my figure in anger.

"You're just like someone I know, Hinata! Always competitive." Y/n says, placing her small bento to the side, and lifting herself from the shaded spot she sat in. Her hands dust off her navy blue skirt, and her blazer comes off. "Why're you so competitive when it comes to Kageyama?"

"If you ask me, it's better to avoid making enemies with those kinds of people." I join in.

She wraps her hands around Hinatas shoulders, leaning over his shoulder. "You know, Hinata, you're not as bad as you make yourself out to be. Wanna know a secret about Kageyama?"Without hesitation, Hinata is fully interested in what Y/n had to say. Frankly, so was I.

"Whatever you see from Kageyama is something he's learned from other players. He wasn't always so snobby; he used to be calmer and kinder. But once he was shown what he could do with his talent, it went to his head. Don't let that become you, Hinata! You have so much potential it's insane! I've never met anybody with as much love for volleyball as you." She pulls up her sleeves, getting into position for a receive, signifying I could rest now. "

"How do you know what he used to be like, Y/n?" Hinata asks her, sending the ball into the air. My eyes follow it, but my ears listen intently to their conversation.

"Well, I went to the same middle school as him. When he was a first-year, I was a third. Me and my friend we're on the girls' team, while my other three friends were on the boys' team. The four of us practiced every second of the day, which meant the two teams spent a lot of time together. Everything Kageyama knows is from another player; don't think he's just magically good at volleyball. Anyway, I don't know much about Kageyama, but I do know that he's changed dramatically." She explained. Just then, the bell for our sixth period had rung, and doors were heard opening and closing, as well as students fluttering around hallways.

The three of us pause our mini practice and gather out things where they were settled. Thoughts ran through my head as I put my school blazer back onto my torso. If Y/n went to the same middle school as Kageyama, that must mean she knows a lot about Aoba Johsai: one of our greatest enemies in volleyball. And if she knows him, could she be familiar with his playstyle? In that case, having her around would not harm the team.

"Sugawara, I'm off." She's heard saying from behind me, while she put her school bag over her shoulders. "Thank you for having me here with you and Hinata, I'm glad I could be of help."

I nod in response, nervously breathing through the teeth."Yes, of course. Uhm— would you like me to pick you up from your classroom later on? Either that, or you could walk to the gym after band practice." I ask the young girl, longing for more time to hang about her.

Then, she began walking backward, meanwhile talking. "I think I'll be just fine, Sugawara. No need to worry about me all the time. I've managed without you the past couple of days haven't I?" Her h/c danced with the wind as she did so, and the corners of her lips rose as she said so.

"That's right.. I'll catch you later then!" I manage to shout out, raising a hand for a gentle wave, but it was too late. Y/n was already turning into the doors of the school, returning the gesture.

Somehow, she always found a way to make the chains around my heart tighten a bit more. What was it that drew me towards Y/n? Hell, if I knew. "Wow, Sugawara. You've got yourself a pretty friend! She seems nice, too." Hinata expresses, looking agar with me. "Is she your girlfriend, or something?"

"No, Hinata. Just an old friend. Someone who may know me better than anybody, you know." Y/n; The girl who knew her way around my heart.

—

Hey everybody, sorry I've been M.I.A for a while. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on my ff!!! I would never do that. This fan fiction is super duper important.

Please note my chapters!! It lets me know you guys enjoy them.

Make sure to be taking care of yourself: drink water, go outside, eat something, and heal yourself after hard work:) It's currently mental awareness month, and it's very important to be taking time for yourself.

love you guys

- Sugawara's beauty mark

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mrmallard · 3 years

Text

Identity Stuff 2: Return of the Stuff

Not directly related to my prolonged freakout and breakdown a week or two ago, but is directly related to a post made a couple weeks before that. If you saw the post, you saw the post.

Heavy topics abound in this post, mostly relating to identity and the like, but also stuff about bullying. Mostly just me talking about myself rather than leveling serious philosophical concepts at you.

---

A couple weeks ago - or some time in the past 2 months, I don't remember - I made a post revealing that I was questioning my gender.

I'm not ashamed of exploring that, but I have come to the conclusion that I had been too hasty in revealing myself - and I believe that I revealed myself for all the wrong reasons.

I did it during a time that I felt particularly alienated from my friend group, and I think I did it for validation during a time when I was seriously unhappy and seeking some positive input. We all know how that situation worked out in the end - it was a stressful time, and I was reaching out for support. My thoughts regarding my gender identity got caught up in the crossfire.

I want to apologize for that. It was wrong of me to make those claims with that mindset.

I didn't lie in that post, though. I've been experimenting with femme presentation, to the point of buying clothes and make-up. I see my reflection sometimes, and I see a shy, insecure girl, and my eyes well up. I want to bundle up in sweaters and feel my hair cup my face like Velma Dinkley, and I want to be loved and validated as that girl. I haven't been sure how to address it to others, but my mixed feelings regarding my gender identity are very real.

Another negative to revealing myself in the way I did is that I rushed into it, and I didn't give those claims enough breathing room or nuance. I rushed it out the door in a time of crisis, and I don't think I properly elaborated on how I felt. I think I needed to calm down, get to the heart of the matter and build outwards. I was not in a state to do that.

The good news is that upon this reflection, I began to think about my identity more thoroughly. And I've come to terms with some of the things relating to my identity, gender-related or not.

---

I was bullied. You can probably tell - I'm always second-guessing myself and asking for input and guidance because I've been made to feel like a failure for so much of my life. I'm nearly 8 years out of high school, and the scars I have from an entire school-life of bullying are still there.

My main concern is that by being deprived of the social interaction and practice I already sorely needed, I developed in a way that robbed me of a personality.

I had friends at points, but they all left eventually. Some physically left my school, others turned on me and joined other groups. Some people just didn't want to hang out any more. And I'm worried that I was so maladjusted that the way I was passionate about things and any interests we shared were overwhelming to them, and I feel like I had blinders on at points and would extoll the virtues of one singular thing, and that would damage my relationships if they weren't as into it as I was.

So I guess it's not accurate to say I didn't have a personality - I just don't think I learned how to assimilate, or I never learned how to express myself properly. Eventually I gave in to snobbery, which gave me a lot of opinions but no legs to stand on, and that's also done lasting damage to my personality.

I think sometimes about how I might have turned out if I had been in a supportive friend group during school, or if I just wasn't bullied as much and able to be a kid without all the weight of people hating me on my shoulders. And the worst part about that is that I'm never going to get an answer. I can try and figure out why kids hurt me and made fun of me for eleven years of my life, but I just don't know and I'm never going to know.

What I've come to understand is that the people who bullied me as children either didn't understand the scope of their actions, or they did and they didn't care until it was too late - and I don't necessarily think most of them understood the consequences of ostracizing another developing person to such a degree. Later teenagers are scum though, and there are people who I'll never forget. But my issues go back so much farther than high school.

Some of them were little shits who lashed out at me because I was an acceptable target and it made them feel better, but others were more methodical in how they abused me and others just joined in because that was the fashion. And now that we're all adults and moving on with our lives, whatever reason they had for doing that is going to be lost to time.

I'm a 25 year old man asking children from 20 years ago why they hurt me to such a degree that I'm still suffering - and you can't get a satisfactory answer from children, especially ones that live that far in the past.

---

So any crisis of identity I go through is informed by that past. I was othered - I was made to feel isolated, alienated and alone. So I think it's natural that I sympathized with queer culture. It took a while, the 2000's were a homophobic time and I had to unlearn a lot of shit, and I had a lot of false starts and difficulties moving forward. But I came around in time, partially because I understood I was queer from an early-ish age.

There's a whole checkered past I could go into about sexualising myself on the internet, but I don't want to get that heavy in this post. What I will say is that my first queer experience happened when I was 14 - I had been thinking about it and coming to terms with my feelings from 13 onwards, and something happened when I was 12 that makes a lot more sense now than it did back then, but 14 is the age where I had my first queer experience. From there, I ran amok - I wanted to be this, I wanted to do that. A lot of what I felt was tied to a lot of inappropriate sexualisation, but I felt liberated and free.

I came to terms with my bisexuality - to this day, I think I'm heteroromantic and bisexual, though if I were a woman I think I would be homoromantic and bisexual. I wanted to present as femme, I wanted to be validated as a girl and I felt a disconnect between what masculinity expected of me and how I really was.

At some point - I think after my mum's latest partner came into the picture, who I have a lot of friction with - I blunted myself and hid that side away from everything. I was still putting out feelers, but I very much hardened myself and tried to "fly straight" to avoid detection. But that disconnect between myself and masculinity has always been there.

---

I think the urge to experiment came back around 2017 or 2018. I can't remember exactly what happened - but I ended up on Wish to see what was up, and I found a bunch of woman's clothes, and it just lit a fire in me. I went on a spree, favoriting anything that looked cute or hot and was in my size.

Looking back, I don't know whether I heard Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds before I found Wish, or if I heard it after I found Wish. But Bubblegum Bitch very much summed up the vibe I was going for. That and Am I A Girl? by Poppy were kind of my gender experimentation anthems, lol.

And that's when I took these pictures:

Simpler times. I tried to wear the same lipstick recently, but I felt really fat and gross in comparison. I adore these pictures because it just clicked into place so well, and I'm so happy to be there in the moment wearing lipstick, y'know. It reminds me of gender euphoria. Number 2 and 3 are my favorite ones.

I won't post any of the clothes I got, because frankly they're pretty nasty and I don't want to expose myself like that on this blog. But it just felt so nice to wear what I was wearing, even if I felt awkward and unwieldy in it.

But lately, I have been reclaiming a sense of masculinity - all this stuff with redhead girl had me flying straight again, trying to find the strength and confidence I needed to be a serious prospect for her. But that's over now, and I came to the conclusion after she let me down easy that I wanted to reveal my queerness to her. I wanted her to be my confidant.

Of course, I've made a mess of that relationship - so that won't be happening. But I think I'm ready to open up and drop hints about my bisexuality, and whoever hears it, hears it. Since last week, I've decided to be authentically myself - whoever hates that can go to hell, I'll sort the chaff from the wheat. I'm taking back my life.

And a part of that has been trying to get a handle on my queerness again.

---

When I was suffering before my big meltdown, one way I coped with how I felt was reading the Dysphoria Bible. It's a living document that details the different expressions of gender dysphoria, and how they might relate to you as a person.

I think I related the most to societal dysphoria, and I don't think I experience physical dysphoria that much in a trans sense. I related aspects of physical dysphoria to my weight, but I think if push came to shove, I could live with the body I was born with without surgical intervention. I think that makes me privileged over gender questioning people who need to alter their genitals to match their gender - that's a hard process to have to go through.

And ultimately, I came to realise the gender dichotomy within me. I'm not masculine in the traditional sense, and I'd say I skirt closer to femininity - but there are aspects of masculinity that I don't mind idealistically, and I think I can look the part. Even if it's cosplay, I've come to terms with a masculine side. I like how I look in a more masculine context, and there are masculine ideals that don't make me feel ostracized, weird or left out.

But I also feel a feminine side, and it's pretty strong. It might sound weird, but I relate a lot to sapphic expressions of love compared to other expressions of love. I adore how I look when I look more feminine or androgynous than male. I'm gentle, I'm a bit awkward, and I click with women more than I do with men.

There's something about the female experience - or what I perceive to be the female experience - that feels more inherently true to me. I understand that my knowledge of femininity is shaped by prejudice and stereotypes/tropes, and that's further filtered through my experience as an AMAB individual who hasn't had to deal with the same sexism as women, or with periods, or any of that stuff.

But I feel at home within the bounds of what I know to be femininity. The peace and acceptance I've felt within the bounds of femininity has always been so plentiful and fulfilling compared to how I feel within the bounds of masculinity.

---

So, I've been thinking.

Maybe I skew more feminine. Maybe the aspects of masculinity I like aren't that flash, and in time I might like to present as more femme.

But I don't think I'm wholly divorced from masculinity either. Whether I ever will be is up in the air.

So I think for the time being... I see myself as genderfluid.

I was looking at non-binary, but I don't think my identity lies outside of the binary. I think it's within the gender binary - just spread across both options. Sometimes I have masc days, sometimes I have femme days. So genderfluid seems like the right way to go.

I don't think I'm ready to be open about the more femme aspects of my identity, and he/him pronouns don't really bother me. But my birthname does. I always thought I'd grow to love it, maybe when it's used by a loved one behind closed doors. Maybe I just need the right person to say it just right. But I just don't like it. That's why I go by a nickname in real life, and why I hide behind an alias online and avoid Facebook.

Even if my alias is gendered, I don't think I'm aligned with my alias. It's a front. It's who you know me as, the same way I know you through your alias. And I don't think I'll be changing it to mxmallard any time soon - no hate to neopronoun users, it just doesn't gel with me.

So... that's what I have to say about my identity at the moment. It's liable to change in the future, but this is how I feel right now.

As a thank you for reading, have some gender affirming picrews I've been doing lately:

#personal #long post

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