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ciaraswritings · 1 year

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Anxiety

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Social anxiety disorder. 18+, if you please.

Word Count: 1.7K words

Summary: fem!Reader is struggling with social anxiety while attending Bruce Wayne's birthday party, but then she meets a woman named Barbara who helps her escape. Very happy ending. Just fluff & stuff.

Author's note: Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you enjoy.

How the hell did I end up here, I asked myself.

I pressed my back to the mahogany wall as colors and watched the pastel colors swirl past me. I should have never come to this event, this celebration. I'm not even sure how I got invited to this. I had barely ever crossed paths with Bruce Wayne. Sure, I'd edited news stories covering his spotlight before sending them off to be published on the internet, but I could never bring myself to meet with him face to face. I'd talked with him over the phone, fact checking a wild take that a journalist had submitted, but in the two minutes and five seconds that we had chatted, he had obviously decided I was suitable to be invited to his birthday reception.

That's what I absolutely love about my job. I can sit in a dark office all day, I don't have to see anyone face to face, all submissions and communications are sent via email. I'm trying to make arrangements to work from home, so the stress of being so close to the other offices won't be on my mind. My job only requires a computer and phone, after all.

My boss was overjoyed when he heard I had been invited to the big event. Any more excitement, and he would have started a fire with how fast words were spilling out of his mouth. His thrill, however, did not match my own by a long shot. I thought back to when I was sitting in my comfy, swiveling office chair, staring up at the balding, sprightly man who was positively demanding I accept the invitation and attend the event. I don't think I even verbally responded to him at the time. My plagued mind overtook my body, and still had ahold of it even then as I tried to blend into Bruce Wayne's wall.

Social anxiety disorder, my constant companion. My nemesis, my excuse, my greatest hurdle. The only reason I stood there in my old prom dress is because my boss has been on such edge lately, and like my coworkers, I wasn't ready to risk the consequences of saying no to him right then. My anxiety was to blame for that too, coincidentally enough.

As the sea of long dresses and black suits moved past, I tried my hardest to remember my therapist's favorite phrases. Be aware of your body. Be aware of your surroundings. How is your body reacting to this situation? I could answer the last question easily enough. My heart was beating out of my chest, my stomach was churning, sweat was appearing on my trembling hands. Fear was wrapped around my throat, my breathing labored. An older gentleman in a very nice suit gave me a concerned look before his glamorous college-student wife pulled him towards the dance floor. Yes, please go, stop looking at me. I wonder how many people are looking at me right now.

Be aware of your surroundings. I tried, I really tried. I tried to take in the luxury of the room. The velvet curtains, the gold trim, the expensive art, the... was that a tapestry? Be aware of your body. I attempted to become aware of my physical senses. Deep breaths, eyes closed, trying to relax my tense muscles.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

My eyes flew open. A young waiter with a tray was quizzically observing me from a couple feet away.

I can't do this anymore. "Yes! Yes, yes, I'm alright." Fight or flight mode had been activated. Not bothering to thank him, I slipped past the waiter and made a not-so-graceful getaway to the hall. Lush ivy and large chairs decorated the long room, along with a huge mirror that I planted myself in front of, my entire brain trying to retake control. But no, the sickening, uninvited fear had ahold of my entire body.

Looking up into the mirror, I was not exactly pleased by what I saw. My eyes were full of adrenaline and my mascara was running slightly. My dress was wrinkled by where I clutched it at the hip. My hair was the only thing that didn't look frazzled (thanks to an hour of straightening before I had left for the party). Using the tip of my finger, I tried to clean up the mascara around my eyes.

"Did you get bored too?"

My finger nearly went into my eye, startled by the unexpected and unwelcome voice. I wanted to run like a deer being threatened by a panther. I turned nervously to the owner of the voice, and my fear alleviated if only for a moment by the spectacularism of the person I saw. A red haired young woman in a black velvet dress had approached me, a single party-goer from the roar of festivities behind her. I could see the door swinging closed from when she had entered. My anxiety lurched and I could feel liquid coming up in my throat. A hard swallow later, and I assumed my most casual pose. "You could say that."

The redhaired woman turned, pulled her lipstick from her clutch, and repainted her red lips in the mirror. "I'm not even sure why I'm here, my father is the one who actually knows Mr. Wayne."

"I don't know him at all. Bruce, I mean. Not your father." Oh, that sounded so rude. "Sorry... about that."

She turned back around and gave me a shiny smile. "Are you okay?"

Hell no, I'm not okay. "Yes, of course." My hands were still trembling and my cheeks were flushed. Breathing hurt. The radiant woman in front of me could obviously see through the lie. Her head cocked, her beautiful, wavy red hair swayed.

"You don't seem okay," her concern was evident, but I wasn't in the mood for people being concerned and trying to make me talk about it.

"I'm okay, I just haven't eaten today. So... I should probably go do that," that wasn't even a lie. I had only had coffee today so I wouldn't throw up from nervousness tonight.

"What's your name?" asked the woman who was freshening her eyeliner in the mirror.

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

"I'm Barbara Gordon. It's good to meet you. And funny enough, I'm hungry too," the stranger straightened and shook my still shaking hand. "Want to go get something? I can't fill up on shrimp and caviar."

"Neither can I, seafood isn't my favorite." I was shocked at my own boldness. My fear had released its painful grip slightly, but it was far from gone.

"Me neither. I could go for Chinese," Barbara smiled at me. "Want to join? My treat."

Now this was an unexpected decision. She seems nice enough... I want to so badly. It'd definitely be a way out of here, and with a nice person. But what if she's not nice? What if she's not who she seems? What if I mess up in front of her? What if she invites more people? "I'm not sure..."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm chill, I need a way out of this place too. I mostly came for my dad, he loves Bruce. I'm just... not in the right place to party like this."

How about this, my brain bargained with itself. If it turns out bad, we never have to see her again. If it goes good, then we... still never have to see her again. "What the heck. Got a place in mind?"

"Of course, come on! I can't think of a better time than two well dressed girls getting the best Chinese in town. We can take my dad's car."

My hands had slowly stopped trembling. I think it's going to be okay.

...

My escape with Barbara was a needed lifesaver. She made the car ride pleasant, complimenting my dress, asking me about my job, commenting on my hair. I think she sensed that I wasn't as comfortable talking about myself, so she told me about her own life. She was a college student, she was multilingual, she lived with her dad at the moment, but was looking into getting her own place. Listening to her talk was relaxing, knowing I didn't have to talk about myself, no risks of stumbling over my words like I did earlier.

We arrived at what looked to be a family-owned place, it wasn't a chain restaurant, which I sort of admired Barbara for. The best Chinese food came from small restaurants, and she seemed to acknowledge that. The woman assured me she knew exactly what I would like, telling me she'd order then come join me.

I slid into one of the empty booths. Actually, all of them were empty. Too late at night for most people to get takeout, but Barbara and I were evidently not the same as those people. She joined me at the table with trays that smelled much tastier than the takeout Chinese that my boss had delivered at the office every day for lunch. "This looks amazing, thank you so much."

"No, thank you for coming with. It's nice that I found a friend to do this with." Barbara smiled before picking up one of the cartons.

Friend. The word felt so new. "It's been a really long time since I've had a friend." Anxiety brewed and steamed in my throat, but I forgot all about it when she slid her phone across the table to me, a new contact form ready to fill out on the screen.

"Well, now you have one," the redhaired woman said with a smile, before taking another bite of the food.

...

That was four years ago to this day. It's Bruce Wayne's birthday again, but neither of us are on the guest list. That's perfectly okay, we have our own party going on for us. Empty Chinese takeout cartons lay on the coffee table, an actress on the television screen dramatically screams in fear, and I am laying on Barbara's chest, my finger becoming accustomed to the new diamond ring.

I look up at her, admiring how her fiery hair glows in the pale light of the television screen. Anxiety? Hah, not around Barbara, not anymore. Finally finding a person I can experience only joy around... that feels good. Her hand rests on my head, holding me close. Her eyes are focused on the television, but by her smile, I know her mind is somewhere else. She notices I'm no longer interested in the film, turns off the TV, and smiles down at me. Butterflies, not anxiety, fill my stomach.

"Did you get bored too?"

"You could say that."

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canirove · 2 years

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Meu Amor | Chapter 8

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He misses me. He misses me! And a high pitched sound leaves my mouth, the woman sitting next to me on the bus giving me a weird look.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"So, what's the plan?" Rebecca asks while I pack my suitcase.

"Since he is playing on Sunday and I'm also working that day, but they travel the day of the game, we are spending Friday and Saturday together" I explain.

"And do you know what you are doing?"

"Tomorrow he is taking me somewhere for dinner, and then we are spending Saturday at his place watching a movie or something."

"You are staying at his house, uh?"

"You are the sensible friend. Please don't turn into Taylor."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Are you excited?"

"I'm... I'm nervous" I say, sitting on my bed.

"Why?"

"Because... Because..." I mumble.

"You know you can tell me anything, don't you?" Rebecca says, moving to sit next to me.

"I know. It's just... Saying it out loud is gonna make it real and..."

"And it's scary."

"Very" I say with a big sigh. I'm falling for Rúben. Big time. And I can't remember the last time I felt like this with someone. Or if I've ever felt it before. And even though I know he isn't a womaniser or anything like that, knowing that he is a football player and everything that comes with it, is always there. Every time I let myself get excited about a possible future with him, something in my head makes me think about possible cheating, about the heartbreak. I know that it could happen with any man I date, but still...

"You know, I've only met him twice. Or one and a half, the first probably doesn't count. But I think he is one of the good ones, and that it is worth giving this a chance. Maybe not letting yourself go as if nothing else matters, but... You know. Enjoy the moment" Rebecca says.

"That's what Taylor says. With other words and adding sexual stuff, but yeah."

"The fact that he is super hot is a big bonus, yes" she laughs. "So, if you want the advice of someone who hasn't been able to date someone for longer than three months... Enjoy this trip."

"Thank you, Rebecca" I say, hugging her.

"Anything for you" she says, hugging me back.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Sorry for making you wait” I say, opening the door for Rúben. “I got some last minute emails that needed to be answered, and I lost track of time.”

“It’s ok” he says, his voice sounding different. I turn back to look at him while struggling to put on my earring, and he still is at the door. His gaze is focused on me, going up and down my body, sending a chill all over it. When our eyes meet, he is looking at me in a way he’s never done before, and I can feel my heart skipping a bit. Or two.

“Rúben, are you alright?” I ask him.

“You look gorgeous” he says, his eyes again going up and down my body as if taking in every single detail.

“Thank you” I say, my face burning. My face, and my whole body. If right now he threw me on the bed, starting do unspeakable things to me, I would not complain one bit.

“We should leave, we don’t want to lose our reservation” he says after a few seconds of silence, clearing his throat.

“Yes, yes” I say. “Let me grab my shoes.”

“Are you wearing that?” he asks, pointing at my heels.

“I am. Are they not appropriate?”

“They are. But I don’t think it’s the safest thing for you to walk around” Rúben smirks.

“Ha, ha, ha. So funny” I say, rolling my eyes. “Lucky me,” I say, picking up my things “I have your strong arm to hold to.” Did I just say... “your strong arm”... aloud? Shit.

“Lucky you indeed” he says with a smile while offering me one of his, like I said, strong arms.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Hi there” I say the next day while getting into Rúben’s car.

“Hello. Did you sleep well?”

“Ugh, like a baby. How was training?”

“Good. Though I couldn’t wait for it to be over.”

“Was Pep being more annoying than usual?” I smirk.

“Rude” he replies. “If I wanted it to end soon was because I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” At that, I can’t help but look out the window, trying to hide the fact that my face has gone completely red, and that I may or may not be smiling like an idiot. Because he just said he was looking forward to seeing me. Me!

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Welcome” Rúben says, opening the door of his house. It is huge, and I feel like my whole flat could fit on half of just this first floor.

“Do you ever feel alone in a place so big?” I ask him as we walk into the living room.

“Sometimes. But I usually have someone staying with me, friends or family. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna leave this on the kitchen” he says, nodding towards the pizzas we bought on our way here.

While he is gone, I take a look at the things he has around the room. Photos with his family, some small trophies, and a guitar.

“Do you play?” I ask him when he comes back.

“I do."

“Really?”

“Yep. My ex sings and that’s when I learnt how to play.”

“That’s cute.”

“Thank you. I guess. Come, let me show you around” he says, offering me his hand.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Remind me again why are we watching this movie?” Rúben asks. We are sitting on his huge sofa after having lunch, my fantasy about cuddling with him actually happening.

“You told me to pick something I liked. And this is what I like.”

“A horror movie.”

“Yep.”

“Ok…”

“Oh, c´mon” I say, turning to look at him. “Are you telling me that Rúben Dias, best player of the Premier League, a guy whose rivals start shaking just by seeing him, gets scared watching a horror movie?”

“I’m not scared. I just don’t like it.”

“You are scared.”

“I am not” he says, also moving to look at me. “And look who is talking, the one scared of heights.”

“Which is a normal fear. Not this” I say, teasing him.

“Both are as valid.”

“Mine is something real, this is fiction.”

“It doesn’t matter. Shit!” he says, jumping a bit when someone screams on the tv.

“Oh my God” I laugh.

“It caught me out of guard, we were talking.”

“Sure, sure” I say, still laughing.

“I’m serious” he says, coming closer. “I am not scared.”

“Ok. Show me.”

“You asked for it” he says, moving a bit closer and kissing me. He is kissing me. He… is… kissing me. Holy shit.

“Now who is the one who is scared?” he says, his lips still very close to mine.

“I don’t know what you are talking about” I say, feeling my heart on my throat.

“Then kiss me back” he says, his hand cupping my face. I do as he says, and kiss him back. And he kisses me again. And we spend the rest of the movie like that, kissing and laughing, not caring about anything else.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fanfic #football fanfic #football imagine

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pbandjesse · 4 months

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It was a nice day at work. I am feeling really tired tonight but I think that's mostly because I am cold. Very much ready to go to bed.

I slept alright last night but my nose was all stuffy and painful when I woke up and so I felt really really tired. James came and gave me a big hug as soon as I sat up after my alarm went off. It helped me feel better.

I got cleaned up and dressed. Wore the new crew neck my mom got me. I just wanted to be cozy. I was struggling a little. My fingers hurt really bad and I couldn't get my shoe on and James helped me because they love me and I was very grateful.

James and me left together. I always like watching them bike away. It was very cold today. Frosty. I'm glad it feels like winter.

I had a nice drive to camp. And got there alright at 8. I was happy to be inside where it was warm.

I had a productive morning. I had my breakfast and started working on writing up a description for the CIT program. I would use chatgbT to give me some framework and worked on using that to build up a really professional description. I am pretty pleased. I would print that and the schedule I made. Then decided to do more printing. I figure that since we are going to have a meeting about the 3 things we wanted to accomplish with John the consultant. Cit program, training, new programs.

Alexi would come in around 9. And everyone else would come in within the hour. Sarah worked on research for the training manual. I would go through some old documents and pulling things I think will be helpful. Games and reading and such.

It was a really productive morning though. I would take a walk to the lodge. I filled my water over there and chatted with Joe. He teased me about forgetting my stuffing from the holiday party, but I was glad to have my cookware back.

I looked at the books in the musuem. I went and looked at the nurses office because they are almost done fixing the roof. Very nice.

I would have lunch when I got back to the office. And while I was eating I decided I should come up with a document for meal ideas for dietary restrictions for the summer so I don't have to try and think of options when I'm very close to tears during the summer.

This would be like a two hour research project. Looking into other camps menus. I found an article about Jewish and 7th day Adventists camps and they had lots of options! So I researched how to make them vegan or gluten free or nut free. And I only had like 2 fake meat options.

After asking Heather, I found out where the kitchen orders their food from so I was able to compile links for ingredients. I was very proud of myself.

Once I was done that I had a zoom meeting with Hawa and Mike from the national guards and I'm thrilled that I have 2 workshops on the calendar with them now. One is a paint and sip style, that we are calling a "paint along", and the other I think will be a printmaking.

I had to make some invoices for them. And that took a minute. But that was just fine.

I would finish my day with designing some stickers ideas for each village. I had a lot of fun creating that. I want to play with the idea of merch for camp more. We will see if any of it actually gets used but still it's fun to design it.

I would also decide on my birthday countdown project. I'm going to do a sticker sheet/flash sheet, with a daily drawing. I'm excited. That will start on the 15th.

I said goodbye to everyone and would head out. I told Sarah I would check at Manor Mill for her last bowl while I was looking for my last 5 pieces. And it is such a quick drive over. I was happy to see my pieces. The colors weren't what I was expecting but I love love love my bear bowl. I'm going to keep my jewelery in it.

I went home and got here before James. I was happy to be home. I put some stuff away. And worked on sending some emails. James got home as I was starting to do my knitting for the day. I love how it looks so far. I know we are still really early in the project but I am setting a good precedent and already weaving in the ends. I will have to sew them down once the month is done but I am very pleased so far.

James would sit with me and tell me all about their day while I worked. And I would show them the documents I made and made me feel very smart and professional. I love my husband.

They got us frozen pizzas we could microwave for dinner. And after we ate they went to play DND with their friends. Well actually it's a different game but same idea. It was nice to see friends' faces.

I took a shower and washed my hair and now I am in bed in my cozy jumpsuit. I am very much ready to sleep.

I hope tomorrow is a good day. And I hope you all have fun. Stay safe. Wash your hands. I love you all.

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lone-rhapsodist · 9 months

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Some major updates...

I am going to try to sum up the things that have happened in the past few weeks. I am trying to get back on track and move on and I need to get a few things off my chest before I can do that properly.

This post contains major updates about my Classics project, my Discord server, and a few new and upcoming projects. This is definitely a very long post, so I will put a 'Keep reading' below to make it easier on your dashboard. If you do want to read it, please make sure you have a tea or a coffee on the ready. As always, thank you for your patience and support!

First, the 'no' news. I received no reply from Working Classicists. I know I should insist. I know I should probably send a second email before giving up. But the reality is, no one is interested in my project to create an online community for Classics. Not in the way that I intend it, at least. So, I am quitting. Or to put it more positively, I am shelving this particular project for the time being, if not for good. I know I could try reaching out to Asterion and other organisations, but to be honest, I am not convinced. I am not convinced that anyone is really interested in the idea, or willing to work with me to make it happen, or both. The only person who understood what I was talking about and wanted to support me was that ex lecturer of mine from university. She is the best, bless her. But anyone else, whether academic folks or not, has been largely unresponsive. Christ, even the people I started working on this project with abandoned me just after a few months. I have been working on this on and off for years now. What is the point of keeping on banging my head against this wall? I no longer have the drive to keep going. Therefore, I shall stop.

Second, the 'bad' news. I deleted my Discord server, SymForum. I had been thinking about doing it for a while. I was keeping it as an experimental platform, in the hope that things with other organisations would pick up and I would be able to move on from it soonish. In the meantime, it made sense to keep the server as a testing ground for ideas, to see what worked, what didn't, what to keep and what to throw away. Turns out, what to throw away was the whole thing. Because the server was basically dead. And so there was no point keeping it if it was just going to stay dead. I would like to point out, there is no problem whatsoever with that. If anyone on here was on it and they were just lurking, that is absolutely fine. I am lurker number 1 here. I lurk on Facebook. I lurk on Twitter. I lurk on Reddit. I lurk pretty much anywhere but here, and by most Tumblr users' standards, I reckon my activity on here is pretty much lurking anyway. I lurk on Discord too, especially since I've got nothing to contribute to most conversations. When I have something to say, I'll say it, but that ends up being like one time in a million, and then that one time is fine, but it's one in a million, so, it is what it is. Anyway, as a major lurker myself, am I really going to blame people for lurking on my server? Hell no. But am I going to blame myself for it? Hell yes. Because I'm supposed to run the show here. And I hate doing that. I hate being in charge of things. It's the story of my life, and I just can't do that anymore. So I deleted the server. And in my opinion, good riddance. If it was supposed to be a playground for my project, it showed that people are not interested in bringing in their ideas and asking for advice on how to develop them further nearly as much as I thought they would be, and that's fair enough. But if it was supposed to be a Discord server in the traditional sense, then there's already plenty that fit the bill, and I'm happy to recommend them: Classics Central; Miletos; The Cambridge Latin Discord Server; Tychon's Symposium; and for those of you who like hoarding stuff, the Classicists' PDF Society. There are also several subreddits that are valid, such as r/latin, r/ancientgreek, r/classics. I hope you find these useful.

Now, the 'good' news, at least for me, I guess. While I was damning myself with these questions about how to create an online Classics community in any way, shape, or form, something remarkable happened. A local Classics community popped up on my Facebook feed and I was invited to attend an event. Literally 15 mins away from my house. The timing couldn't have been better. While I was in the depths of my struggle, I had at some point contemplated the idea of moving this project of a Classics community from online to physical. I am not going to give away where I am based, but I live in a pretty big place, and it always struck me as odd that, amongst all these very official Classics academic societies, nothing existed that was more open to the general public. I did look into how I could get something like this started, but options seemed limited to using Facebook and word of mouth, and even then, I wasn't quite sure what the actual thing should look like. Online, I always wanted something like a forum, but in real life, what would it be? A monthly meet up? A book club? No idea. So, when this society came up on Facebook and I went to their first event, I was very impressed. The aim of the society is to promote Classics among everyone, through informal meet ups in which we read something in translation and then have a discussion alongside it. It's very chilled, very simple, and to be honest, very enjoyable. Our first meet ups have been about a few Platonic dialogues, and again, I was so happy with them -- we just sat down with tea and biscuits, took turns reading the dialogue, and from time to time had a pause to discuss what we just read and share our thoughts on it. From conversations I've had with the person who started this, it is clear to me that this is intended for anyone with an interest in Classics, with no need for prior learning, which I really appreciate. So, to me, it seems like a no brainer that I should invest more time into the society, and that I should help them develop further. I am currently applying to become part of their committee, and hopefully I will be able to join them soon. But even if for some reason I was unable to, this is a very valid project, and it makes sense that I should try to contribute to it, since it is very local to where I live, and it's perfectly in line with my job, and indeed, if there is any way in which anything even remotely close to my own original project could ever develop, it is through things like this -- grassroots approaches to Classics communities, similar to Working Classicists, grounded in reality, with real people, through real conversations. That's not to say that what happens online isn't real! But it is something I'm noticing, at least for myself, with all this 'online living' that I do, that because of it, sometimes I tend to lose touch with reality, and in turn, I end up not doing things in the real world that I would like to do, as if doing things online could be a replacement for that. Online can complement reality -- indeed, it is an extension of it. But online is online, and reality is reality. It's not easy to articulate, and I still struggle with the concept myself at times, but I do see a nuance, a difference, a distinction etc. I think that me moving the project from online to physical is a positive thing, and I look forward to exploring it further, and this not just for this particular project, but for other ones too.

Of course, technically speaking, the society does not (yet) fully replace the project, and in that sense, there are still some things which I would like to experiment with online, if at all possible, some more in an active way, some more in a passive one. An example of passive project is what I would like to refer to as 'Classics Helpdesk'. You know what a helpdesk is. It's a form of IT or other support desk that you go to or contact to ask questions about a problem that you need help with. That's what I want to do, but for Classics. Basically, the idea is to create a helpdesk where everyone who has any questions about anything Classics related (a text, a topic, a bit of Latin, university, work, you name it) can ask it, and I will respond, and I will try my best to help them with it, and hopefully it will actually help. It's essentially the idea that was at the heart of the project -- to help others develop their ideas about the ancient world -- but stripped to its core and reduced to something like "I'm a Classics person, ask me anything" as a service for anyone to use. I like it, because it requires no real work -- it will probably be just a pinned post at the top of my main blog, inviting people to send me any asks, even anonymously, or just message me, and I will respond, either publicly if it's an ask, or privately if it's a message. The details can be refined as I go, but basically that's the gist of it. Again, it would be good for me because it would require essentially no work, and I could just sit here and mind my own business, and then, whenever someone sends me a request for help, I can info-dump them with whatever they need, and hopefully make them happy, and definitely also make ME happy in the process, because let's face it, this is as much about making me happy as it is about making you happy -- with making you happy being more important by a pretty good margin, but still, it's a win-win. And don't get me wrong, this is not intended to rival or replace the already great number of brilliant people on here who also offer this kind of service. If anything, I would simply like to join their number in a more official fashion, by putting myself out there through my own helpdesk service, and hope that I can actually be of service to anyone. In the past, I've had a couple of people send me asks with questions about Latin stuff or Greek mythology, and it was so fun to sit down and respond to them, and I hope that I may be able to share again that kind of happiness with others in the future. So yeah. Classics Helpdesk. Please watch this space.

As for the more active side of the project, the one specifically about helping people develop their ideas about the ancient world… I think it's about time I faced the fact that the one person who really needed help developing their ideas… is me. So, one of my personal goals with this thing for the upcoming academic year -- yes, I still measure my year goals using the school calendar… I'm a teacher, don't judge me -- is that I should actually start, well, writing. And not give a fuck about it. Like, what it looks like, whether it's good or bad etc. This is an incredibly painful thing for me, and so far I have found it really hard to make the time to make it happen. But I just can't bear to keep not doing this any longer. So, here we are. The great idea to help me make this easier for myself is to do a bit like I'm doing for my Classics project and try to ground it more into reality. One thing I had considered was starting a podcast, because I noticed that when I talk about my ideas out loud with people in my life it's a lot easier to get the words out and make things make sense. However, lately I have been thinking that something that could work well for me instead is writing dialogues. This is something that goes back a long way for me personally, as dialogues were some of the very first original posts I ever wrote on Tumblr -- not on this blog, but on my old one, and in my native tongue. It was a great way to get thoughts out and do some self-critique without being too harsh or lenient on myself. As an informal way to explore my own ideas about the ancient world, I think it could work very well. Not to mention that dialogues are literally THE form of self- and collective reflection from the ancient world par excellence. So yeah, I cannot think of a better way to do this. I could still try other things. Letters are a possibility. Essays too. But first, I need to regain some confidence in my writing. I hope that this will help.

Lastly, I should perhaps mention that, at some point, you might end up seeing some of my own poetry on this blog too. This is mainly because Poetizer, where I first started posting my poetry, is now turning to a subscription-based model -- those bastards… So now I have to consider moving somewhere else. I always thought I would end up on Tumblr with my poetry too anyway, so I suppose this is just the sign that I need to make the move. I don't know when, I don't know how. I don't know whether to make another blog for it. I guess it would make sense. I already have neon-rhapsodies as an archive for my blogging, plus ideally that is where the dialogues would go as well. However, I do think that the poetry should be separate. I think I'll probably stick with the identity I had crafted for myself on Poetizer, but we'll see. In the meantime, it's exciting to think about all the possibilities that might materialise in the future.

Man, this was a long post. Thanks for sticking along for the ride. I am sorry if you were invested in my Classics project as it originally was, and wanted me to keep going with things as they were. I hope you can see why a change was needed, and that you will be happy to keep following any developments in this sense. I am grateful as ever for all your encouragement and support. Thank you, and take care.

#lone-rhapsodist #tagamemnon #personal #classics #project #discord #server #reddit #community #society #helpdesk #writing #dialogues #poetry #thank you

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truerescreatuconfessions · 2 years

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Submissions from Schemes

As per your request I am publishing your submissions, Schemes. There's nothing this blog can do about the actions taken against your account. That was a decision made by staff - not me, or any of the users who posted here. Evidence posted on this blog has never before been used to ban anyone, so we can only logically assume that staff acted on other information. If you would like to explain that situation to us I will publish what you have to say.

My priority is Rescreatu. I'm honestly not that interested in anyone's character. I want to see Rescreatu thrive again. I want justice for the users who have been wrongfully banned. I want it to be a fair playing field, where everyone is held to the same rules and staff are accountable for their actions. I want to help staff restore the faith and trust users need to have in the site in order for it to be successful and fun again.

You have an opportunity here to change the narrative entirely. You could become a hero overnight if you chose to share what you know and expose what has been going on. You would most likely be listened to by Patrick, too, and could change Rescreatu for the better. I know for a fact you would find allies on staff as well, who are looking for someone who will step up and confront these issues. It's not too late and I will be your first ally if you choose to do the right thing.

As a side note, Tumblr does not give me access to the emails used for long submissions. I've also never published anything I've received in a DM without permission. I don't send harassing messages, it's not productive. I invited you to DM the blog because I wanted to give you a chance to discuss this before I posted what you wrote (which I genuinely feel will not give the impression to users that you hope it will).

Without further ado, here is what Schemes (as far as I know) has submitted to the blog, hopefully in order. I will not be compiling any other messages submitted like this in short format (it's too much work - please use the long submission form - I'm not censoring you, I'm just asking you to follow guidelines).

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heyaaaaa to my fans I'll make this perfectly clear, if my tu was taken because of something shady, I would have never publicly spoke about it on the SB and make myself look "bad" where I know everyone clocks my every movement and watches me like a tv show. you know I'm smarter than that atleast I'd hope so! Now that im not staff I can comment on this hate blog but my peace and happiness / mental health is worth more than trying to prove to people who have already decided they dislike me. bye now

PS as per my last post, if I REALLY did something bad EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN WIPED FROM MY ACCOUNT. just saying. and there's no way i would have been unbanned in 1 day. -schemes/khione. now I'm done I promise. And to those who have been defending me, thank you. I really am grateful

Schemes again, few months ago I wrote to you guys, and explained how my mental health was deteriorating and requested the removal of false and personal information about me etc. not sure if you guys did, but here we go again with this, baseless lies and bullying. I tried to [censored] myself over this blog. Now if I sue for emotional trauma I would be wrong right? Bc I have the means, professionals and the proof to do so. please don't say if it bothered so much to ignore the blog it's never that ez

I gave up the achromatic omni amongst other colored galta to try to make people see that I really was moving with geniune intentions. I now realize that was stupid and I should've kept them because y'all got something to say in a bad manner about me anyway. I should just get it back LOL. Not being staff any longer is such a relief I can now actually say stuff I feel

Unfortunately I don't have a tumblr account. If you don't want to post my truth and continue to make me look bad, and allow people to assassinate my character to control the narrative, just say that. Nor am I going to make a tumblr account just for this. Just keep in mind what I said on anon. - Schemes/Khione

I don't need to talk to my friends. My friends know my truth. But here's another truth, you're pathetic and a bully. Karma is real, so it's fine. You don't have to post what I said. I have a clear head, I just don't see why my posts won't be submitted. Why would I post a long submission, so you can have my email and harass me some more? No thanks. Like I said, if this continues I'll be taking legal action. I've been letting the bullying slide for too long. Take that however you want.

Maybe you need a break from this blog. You feed of the bullying of others and drama and the hate. Does it fuel you? I'll pray for you. obviously this is schemes again. I'm sure you'll post this though. Again, bc u want people to think I'm a horrible person. You pick and choose what to post, it's really sad. I think you're the one who needs to take a break from this blog. It's only going to ruin you.

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PS - I will resume posting your submissions this evening or tomorrow when I have time. I wanted to allow some time for everyone to catch up.

#schemes #rescon #rescreatuconfessions #truerescreatuconfessions #khione #notefromthemoderator

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muselin · 3 years

Text

See You Later - Part 1

Who: Beomgyu

Group: TXT

What: Beomgyu/f!reader, collegeAU, slow burn, eventual smut, college student!Gyu, model!Gyu

Word count: 2,238

A/N: this is for @bluekais ❤ Hope you enjoy! Sorry that it's taken so long! There will be a Part 2 coming but I got myself elbows-deep into Kinktober so might take a while as well 🎃

____________________________________

"Tch."

The dissatisfied noise leaving your lips had become habit by now. Just his presence annoyed you, but the fact that he had the nerve to show up late to class almost every time, carrying that stupid skateboard, made your blood boil a little bit. He never studied, never did the assignments, always showed up late and he was still somehow passing this class. This class that you had worked so hard to get into and had to keep working so hard to stay in. It didn't come naturally to you but it did to him and it made you green with envy.

"Ah, Beomgyu-ssi, how kind of you to join us," your professor quipped sarcastically as Beomgyu beamed a smile that was frustratingly charming and headed for the only empty space in the auditorium which, to your displeasure, happened to be next to you.

You didn't acknowledge each other as you continued scribbling furiously into your notebook while Beomgyu sat with his chin leaned on his hand. You noticed that he hadn't taken out anything to write with.

"Now I will hand out your assignments for the next lecture. Remember we have study week, so you will have one week to complete these. Please remain in your seats as you are now."

Your professor proceeded to hand out stacks of papers and you couldn't help noticing that he was handing only one stack for every two students. He was making his way down your row and dropped off an assignment right between you and Beomgyu.

"I can hold it for us," Beomgyu smiled pleasantly as he looked over to you, seemingly unaffected by your sour expression. As the two of you read the instructions for the music production assignment, Beomgyu would stop and mutter to himself every once in a while: "Hmm, I already have a bass guitar for this," "This would be very easy to add a snare to," "I just need vocals and someone to match the drum line to this".

"Alright, everyone ready?" The auditorium hummed with mumbled "yes"es.

"Good," your professor continued, "you will be doing the assignment in pairs, in the order that I've handed the assignments out to you".

You groaned inwardly, noticing yours and Beomgyu's names at the bottom right corner of the cover page.

"Class dismissed!"

You were unsure what to do. You'd have to spend quite a lot of time with Beomgyu to finish this but you didn't have his number and you didn't even know which dorm he was in. Before you could open your mouth to ask Beomgyu when you should meet up, he was getting up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"See you later, Y/N," his voice laced with his regional dialect reached you as an afterthought.

"Tch. Fuck you too, Choi," you muttered.

___________________

It had been four days since you last saw Beomgyu and you were getting nervous. You had started the assignment early and done as much as you could do. You hated to admit it but you really did need him for this. You had worked out a base melody but it was too bare and uninteresting and you knew from hearing him talk to himself that he knew a lot of elements which could add flare and points to the assignment. You hunched over your laptop, browsing the music library. Begrudgingly, at 10 p.m. on a Tuesday, you decided to email him through the university central email list.

### 22:01 ### Hi Beomgyu, it's Y/N, your partner for the music production assignment. I've thrown some things together but we need to meet to do the rest. I realised I didn't have your number or your dorm address, let me know when we can meet up. ###

You waited for a while after pressing send, just in case he was on his emails right now. At midnight you gave up and went to sleep.

### 03:44 ### Hi! Sorry about that! Can you bring what you have over to mine at about noon tomorrow? Here's the postcode ###

You woke up to the reply from Beomgyu and nearly panicked that you would be late. He didn't live close by at all, the post code seemed to be for a swanky area of newly built apartments downtown, miles away from your suburban campus.

You showered and dressed as quickly as possible. You weren't dressing up for anyone. Jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt was all Beomgyu was getting from you. You grabbed your laptop and equipment and headed out the door.

________________

At 11:55, you knocked on Beomgyu's door. He lived on the 13th floor and on the elevator up to his apartment you hoped to whoever would listen that this wouldn't turn out to be as unlucky as the out-of-order sign on the second elevator.

The front door clicked and opened to reveal a somewhat sleepy Beomgyu, dressed in a tshirt and pyjama bottoms.

"Oh, Y/N, you're early," he said, then looked at his watch. You found this ironic, considering he never showed up to class on time.

"Well, not by much. Can I come in?"

"Sure," he said, opening the front door widely for you to walk in past him. "I'll make coffee," he yawned.

As you walked past him you couldn't help but note in your head that he smelled really good. You weren't sure if it was his cologne or laundry but it was the kind that settled pleasantly in your chest and made you want to breathe in deeper. You stopped that train of thought harshly as soon as you felt your mind drift that way. You were perfectly happy with feeling generally mildly annoyed with Beomgyu. It was your comfort zone, even if having to work with him was pushing it.

"So how come you don't live on camp-- Wow..."

Your jaw dropped as you walked into the apartment. It was nothing like the cramped dorm rooms you and your friends shared on campus. It was bright, spacious and well-decorated, with huge windows and a view that rivaled the best hotels in the business district.

"How the fuck are you affording this," the words tumbled out of you with little grace before you could stop them.

"Well, since you ask, I work a lot of side jobs," Beomgyu said nonchalantly as he poured water into the kettle in the open-plan kitchen.

"Really? What do you do?"

"Uhm...," he scratched his neck sheepishly, "at the moment I model."

"You? You model?"

"Yeah, why," he tilted his head at you, looking at you quizzically.

Those big brown eyes, the soft curves of his lips, his chiseled jawline... And his hair looked really soft too. Suddenly from thinking nothing of him you were imagining him as a model. You wondered what he modeled for. Could it be fashion brands? Lifestyle? Prints? Maybe even swimsuits? He always wore those baggy jeans and t-shirts, but maybe...

"Y/N?"

"Oh," you snapped back to him, realising you hadn't answered him. "Yeah I just... didn't know, that's all."

"Uhm, cool. Why don't you drop your stuff off in the room down the hall, the one on the left?"

You nodded and picked up your laptop bag and equipment, your feet sinking into the plush carpet as you padded down the hall. You nudged open the door to the room he'd pointed you to, jaw dropping again for the second time today as you walked in.

The room was a small makeshift studio, with mics, a sound control board and several guitars. Several notepads were strewn about along with a few used coffee mugs and muffin wrappers. It seemed to be the most lived-in space of Beomgyu's house so far and you were suddenly starting to understand why he never seemed to pay much attention to the classes. You dropped your bags off in the corner and sat down at his computer, looking at the various pieces of equipment connected to it.

"How do you like your coffee?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Beomgyu's pleasant voice reverberate in the room. You hadn't heard him come in after you. Covering up your startled reaction, you mumbled your preference and he returned shortly with two steaming mugs, setting them down on his desk.

"Um, so... For this assignment I've tried layering the melodies but it's very bare. I thought we could use it as a starting point and build on it," you said, trying to sound more businesslike.

"That's good, thanks. I actually don't have a lot of time so a head start would be good. I have an hour now but then I need to head out."

Your brow furrowed. An hour? It had taken you three days to put together what you had so far.

"Let's see what you've got," Beomgyu reached for the USB stick in your hands and plugged it into his computer. He downloaded the files and ran them.

An unobtrusive melody filled the small studio. He listened politely, head tilted to one side until it faded out.

"Um... Yeah, I don't play guitar so I wasn't sure what would sound good with that," you started, hands playing with the edges of your shirt nervously. You hated feeling incompetent, especially in front of Beomgyu.

"Yeah, no offence, but it does need a lot more than that," he said. "Let's see what I can do with that."

You sat in your chair and watched him plug one of his guitars into the amp behind you. He tuned it according to the scales in your melody and started to play along.

"Nana naaa," he hummed along quietly. "I don't know about that bar, what do you think," he asked you.

"It's not bad but I think it can go for longer," you replied. Beomgyu nodded, stopping the recording and starting again.

You watched him get lost in his own world as the notes coming from his guitar breathed life into your melody. You watched his fingers strum and pluck, watched his lips open and close in concentration, occasionally the lower one being worried by his teeth. You watched his long hair fall into his face. You simply watched Beomgyu in his zone, not noticing when he stopped playing.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes focused and met his deep brown ones, your lips tensing as you tried to seem attentive.

"Yeah? Yeah, that was good, let's add that in," you spoke quickly.

"Cool," Beomgyu then stood up and reached behind you to switch off the amp. You couldn't stop yourself from breathing in again when his chest and neck nearly brushed across your face. His warm hand dropped to your shoulder, giving you a casual pat.

"Why don't you sit at the computer and keep replaying the recoding while I write down the chords," he suggested.

"Okay, sure," you stood up in the cramped space and there was barely room for you two to switch places. Beomgyu's hands instinctively came up to your waist to steady you as he brushed past you. Your breath hitched but you said nothing as you sat down at his desk and started the recording.

Your combined melody filled the small room and you found yourself nodding along. You hated to admit it but you liked it much more with Beomgyu's additions. You played it several times while he wrote down the chords.

"Right, awesome," he drawled in his dialect after he was finished. "I have to get dressed and head out now, but if you want we can meet up again later today. I won't be done until quite late but I sleep late anyway."

"How late are we talking," you asked suspiciously.

"I would be done about 11, we could meet back here," Beomgyu offered.

You hesitated for a second. It was a lot later than what you considered acceptable but at the same time you didn't trust Beomgyu. You weren't sure you would get any more time out of him than this.

"Okay, deal. Message me when you're done and I'll head over."

"Cool, here's my number," Beomgyu grabbed your phone to type his own number in and called himself. "You okay to let yourself out?"

He left the studio and went into the room across, which you guessed was probably his bedroom. You copied the new files onto your USB before you packed up your things and left the studio as well. On the way you saw that Beomgyu's bedroom door was ajar. You saw him standing with his back to the door as he was pulling his t-shirt over his head. Your lips tensed into a line as you tried to not to make any noise and not even to breathe.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"See you later, Y/N."

You stood frozen in place as your eyes traced the lines of his back muscles to his pretty shoulders, not missing his toned arms flexing as he reached up to push the t-shirt over his head. Your gaze trailed back down his body to his hips where his bottoms were slung low, exposing the two cute dimples at his lower back. He didn't look like he was wearing anything underneath.

Beomgyu dropped his shirt to the floor and you suddenly darted down the corridor, panicked that he would turn around and see you. His bottoms dropped down just as he heard his front door open and shut.

#txt beomgyu #txt choi beomgyu #txt imagines #txt scenario #txt college au #txt au #txt fic #tomorrowxtogether #tomorrow x together #txt beomgyu imagines #txt beomgyu fluff

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archonoftears · 3 years

Text

info: modern au! reader receives a package that helps her tease her boyfriend while he’s at work.

warnings: 18+ smut, slight breeding kink (mentioned), lingerie, phone sex (kinda), pretty vanilla, no penetration, just description, a tiny bit of dom/sub (implied through dialogue)

word count: 1,626

authors note: umm head empty, thoughts only filled with laying in zhonglis bed and teasing him over the phone. i really can’t remove myself from modern au! with ceo daddy zhong. so here we are again. not gonna lie though, i found myself looking at dragon dildos yesterday and now i just wanna write dragon zhongli and sacrificial maiden. so maybe after i finish with the first chapter of my other fic i’ll get right on that.

ps no beta, i just kinda got this out and edited it once. so sorry if any mistakes or issues.

please thirst with me if you want to!!

Glancing around your dining room table you felt defeated by the amount of packages staring back at you. You were surprised by the latest delivery of clothing you had received for PR from a few high end designers. You knew you shouldn't have been shocked, dating a CEO of a multi million dollar cooperation came with many perks. Yet you never imagined anything like this. Knowing the mess would only stay on the table if you didn’t start tackling it. You began opening up a few packages, finding bags and shoes. Even the latest spring wear from the major brand ‘Liyue Qixing’ sat in a box for you. Before setting your eyes on a more intricate looking box. Opening it to discover some of the most beautiful lingerie you had seen in a long time. Looking at the brand name ‘Scent of Spring’. You didn’t recognize it, but you were quite enamored with the pieces inside.

Forgoing opening any more packages you quickly gathered the items in the box and wandered off to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. Selecting a ivory and gold silk longline balconette bra, with matching thong, and harness. The gold tulle flowers that patterned the silk and lace were soft and delicate under your fingers. You couldn’t go a second longer without wearing the beautiful set. Quickly stripping off the clothes you were wearing and slipping on the lingerie. Loving the feel of the soft lace and silk against your skin. Staring at yourself in the mirror.

‘This lingerie had to be designed by some deity who knew Zhongli’s taste.’ You thought to yourself as you admired the way the balconette bra exposed half of your breast and how the thong straps cut into the flesh of your hip in a sexy way, giving your body a more defined silhouette.

A light bulb went off in your head, walking over to grab your phone and opening the camera app, returning back to the mirror. Posing yourself quite provocative as you snapped several photos, dropping to your knees and taking a few more photos, before flipping through them. A coy smile playing on your lips as you went to call Zhongli.

Zhongli was startled by the sound of his phone ringing on his desk, glancing down to see your contact photo, a smile immediately forming on his face, he swiped to answer.

“Hello (name), is everything alright my dear?” Zhongli greeted as he turned from the documents in front of him and leaned back in his chair. You seldom ever called him when you knew he was going to be in the office all day, preferring to email him if you needed anything so he assumed this must have been important.

“Everything is fine, just calling to see what you were up to.” You greeted over the phone. Zhongli let out a small sigh, relieved that nothing was wrong.

“I’m just preparing for a meeting with Fatui Industries in a little bit.” Zhongli started, glancing at the clock to check the time. “What are you doing today my dear.” He asked, knowing you didn’t have much on your schedule today.

“Well I was going through some packages I received, you know the PR kind. It was mostly clothes from some nice designers.” You hummed, he could hear you twirling your hair in your fingers as you spoke.

“Oh really? Hopefully they sent things that are your style.”

“That’s why I was calling actually. There was this one package, the clothes are really nice. But I think they’re more to your taste, and I wanted to get your opinion on them.” You confessed.

“Of course, I can do that when I get home for you if you would like.” Zhongli replied, glancing at the clock noting that he had about 27 minutes until his meeting. “I should be done with work after I meet with Signora and Childe.”

“I’m actually sending you a couple photos right now, please check your email and tell me what you think.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but you seemed awfully excited about all of this but he complied with your request.

“Of course, one moment.” Opening his email, quickly finding the one from you at the top and opening it, his eyes widening in realization as he enlarged one of several photos in the email. His voice catching in his throat as he examined it.

“Are the clothes to your liking, sir.” You cooed from the other end of the phone, knowing very well they were in fact to his liking.

“Ms. (Name)..” Zhongli growled quietly.

“Yes sir?” You asked innocently, Zhongli aware of the game you were playing, but nevertheless here he was clicking on the next photo, feeling his pants grow tighter as he continued to view the photos. The one of you on your knees sending more blood rushing to his already aching erection.

“Are you being a good girl right now?”

“I’m always a good girl Sir.”

“Are you? You don’t look to be acting like a good girl in these photos.”

“Then should I send you some more photos so you make sure I’m being good?” He could feel himself getting riled up just by the implications of what was being said.

“Well… I’ve already sent them so hopefully you don’t mind.”

Not needing to be told twice Zhongli refreshed his email inbox to find a new message. Opening it to discover new attachments. Slowly he clicked the first picture. Finding you not in front of the mirror in the bedroom anymore, but now on the black sateen sheets of the bed the two of you shared. Angling the camera in a way to show how you would look if he had you pinned down. You looked ravishing, from the way you let your cleavage spill out exposing your nipples, to the way you spread your legs.

The next photo your hand was on one of your breast cupping and pinching the nipple. The next photo was taken lower, your hand was now in your panties clearly teasing yourself. And the final attachment was a video, it was no more than 15 seconds, but in those 15 seconds you show yourself pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, before dragging your fingers out of yourself and licking the wet slick off your digits. Zhongli was taking deep breaths as he watched. His eyes following your every movement.

“Sir…” You moaned, lust lacing every syllable. “Do you think I look like a good girl in those photos?”

Zhongli couldn’t say anything for a moment. Letting the video replay itself over and over, his eyes finding new things to focus on each time it replayed. From the way your plump lips wrapped around your fingers or the way you quivered when you plunged your two digits into yourself. He just wanted to see you do more.

“When did being a good girl equate to acting like quite the little slut? Surely I’ve taught you better than that.” Zhongli replied firmly, as he adjusted the way he was sitting to accommodate his throbbing cock.

“This is what you’ve taught me…” the breathiness of your voice letting him know you were in fact still touching yourself as you replied.

“I don’t recall teaching you to send provocative photos to me while I’m at work.” He glanced at the clock again, 16 minutes until the meeting. Fuck.

“Did they make you hard?” You asked suddenly.

He was not a liar, so he wouldn’t lie to you. “Yes they did…”

“Did they make you want to come home and stuff your big. thick. cock inside of me.” The punctionaction of your words were breaking him down.

“Yes they did…”

“Master are you going to come home so I can show you how much of a good girl I am, when I’m milking your cock.”

“My Lily… I-” Zhongli wasn’t used to you being this forward with him.

“I need you to come home and fuck me now. Because if you don’t pump me full of your cum I might go crazy.” You whined your voice working wonders on his resolve. “Please… Please come home and breed me sir.”

One final weak glance at his clock showed he had 9 minutes before they would arrive.

You moaned again calling his name out through the phone, the thread holding his composure together snapping.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I get home do you understand.” Zhongli growled into the phone, quickly on his feet, grabbing his bag and making his way to the door of his office. “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir..!” You exclaimed.

“I hope you understand you won’t be walking for the next few days my Little Lily.” He warned before leaving the safety of his private office.

“Yes yes! Hurry please.”

“I am.” Quickly saying goodbye and hanging the phone up with you, while walking towards two approaching figures.

“Mr. Zhongli goo-” Signora began, reaching her hand out to greet him, but he didn’t meet it.

“My apologies, there seems to be an emergency at home, can you meet with my assistant to reschedule.” Zhongli haphazardly explained. “Again my deepest apologies.” He finished, turning on his heel and b lining it to the exit. Letting the receptionist know that he was leaving and scrambling for the parking garage.

“What do you think his emergency was?” Signora stood bewildered where Zhongli had left her and Childe.

“Do you think everything is alright?

Childe seemed to be having the best laugh of his life as his colleague pondered the obvious.

“Trust me everything’s fine.” Childe said in between laughs. “We should probably reschedule for Monday, he’ll probably need the whole weekend off.”

“This is why I hate partnering with you, you’re too vague sometimes.”

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli x you #modern au! genshin impact #smut #imagine a big bed of black and gold sheets #a bed designed for a god #that's the bed i wanna be spread out on for zhongli #cakey cries #genshin impact x reader #rex lapis x reader #morax x reader #genshin x reader

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meetmymouth · 4 years

Note

Harry and you visiting your family and haven’t seen each other in a while. And nearly faints when you walk into your bedroom freshly showered in his hoodie and can’t help but immediately get hard. But he refuses to fuck you in your childhood home with your parents right down the hall and walls thin as paper. You catch onto his neediness and decide to tease him a little bit. Maybe when you’re in the kitchen you brush his crotch with your ass then going oopsie sorry love. Or stroking his thigh while watching a movie with your mum, bending down in front of him, wearing his fav shorts or putting your boobs on display for him to drool. Please just give us some needy/horny Harry girl, i’m desperate 😫

warnings: dirty talk, smut-ish, not proofread as usual lmao

Harry’s fucked.

He’s completely, and utterly, fucked.

Though he wishes he was fucked literally, he’s just left with an aching boner and it’s almost as if his heart is beating at the tip of his cock.

Since Harry was on a break, your parents offered for you both to come and stay with them for a bit at their country house in Suffolk, and you jumped at the offer since Harry’s been stressed about the cancelled tour dates and everything going on business wise.

It was a beautiful house with large windows and a spacious kitchen and the garden was to die for. It had only been two days but you spent most of your days in the back garden munching on strawberries and reading together. It was bliss. It was, indeed, until you decided to tease Harry.

He loved having sex. He loved having you whenever and wherever but before you guys arrived, he told you he wouldn’t fuck you at your parents’ house and especially not in a room with barbie stickers decorating the walls. And you agreed.

But now, seeing you bent over as you pet the family cat, Harry regrets that decision.

You’re wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts and when you bend over, the underside of your butt cheeks are visible and Harry just wants to reach and slap those juicy cheeks just to hear you gasp. But he can’t. He can’t, because he knows your parents could walk out anytime and the last thing he wants is for your mum to see your boyfriend play with your butt.

He groans when you reach and scratch where he wants to place his hands, and then you turn to him, just to give him a smug smile and Harry rolls his eyes.

He’s hard. Fuck, he’s so fucking hard in his joggers and he has to think about stuff like his grandma, his mum making breakfast or the time when he fell on stage and was so embarrassed just to make the raging boner go away. It kinda works. Kinda.

Now you’re all in the kitchen chatting as you and your mum prepares the chicken and Harry’s just having a heated conversation about Packers.

“I just don’t think he’s in a good shape, I don’t think they’ll score anything with that clown still on the team, you know?” Your dad shakes his head and adjusts his glasses as Harry nods.

He takes the carrot from your hands and starts munching on it, and his eyes widen when you reach and touch his cock over the joggers.

He knows no one can see what your hand’s been up to though since you both are standing at the kitchen island while your parents are on the other side of it. He turns to you and gives you a glare but you just shrug and continue palming him through the joggers. You smirk, because he’s hard.

He whispers your name and you shake your head, “What, babe?”

Both your parents look up at that and Harry wants to cry.

He’s so fucking hard and you just keep palming at his cock and now your parents are looking at his stupid face.

“Uh, just- could you get me some water, love?” He clears his throat and you smile at him all sweet as if you weren’t just touching his cock with your parents still in the room.

Once he takes the glass from your hand, he gives you another glare as he drinks and you send him a wink.

It’s nighttime now and you’re in the garden, and he’s got his laptop on his lap as he replies to some urgent emails and you’re sat next to him on the spacious sofa. Your dad’s already in bed and your mum’s watering the plants and you’re just humming as you highlighted another quote in your book.

He clears his throat when he feels your hand on his knee, right behind the laptop, and you look up from your book, “Alright?”

“Stop.”

“Stop what,” you raise your eyebrows.

He just rolls his eyes and keeps typing away on his laptop.

But you don’t stop.

Instead, you check that your mum’s not looking and then squeeze his knee just to get his attention. When he looks at you, you’ve got your fingers in your mouth as you swirl them around your fingers and Harry shifts, feeling his cock wake up at the sight.

“Stop it, stop, just stop,” he reaches for your hand.

You grab his hand and bring it to your left boob and his palm touches your hard nipple since you’re not wearing a bra.

“God, stop it.”

“What? She’s not looking.”

“She might. Stop. I can’t fuck you,” he whispers and you roll your eyes, then let go of his hand.

“Then I’ll fuck myself on this sofa,” you whisper back and lick your lips, your hand travelling to the front of your shorts.

Harry hears the water stop and he gulps, his eyes looking for your mother.

“Alright, I’m off to bed. See you guys in the morning. Love you both,” she starts walking towards you and you make a show of scratching the side of your thigh.

"Night night, darlings,” she squeezes Harry’s shoulder and then she’s gone.

You sigh and Harry watches as you start rubbing yourself over your shorts. He can see a tiny dark spot on there letting him know how wet you are and he lets out a groan, then shuts the lid of his laptop and places it on the table in front of him.

“You’re a fucking tease, y’know that?”

“I’m just having fun.”

You start rubbing circles and Harry has to adjust his cock because he’s once again hard. “I just- fuck. Should we?”

“Hm?”

“Should we... y’know... fuck? I’m so fucking hard, baby, I need you so bad.”

“You made me promise though,” you mumble as your eyes close, taking in the pleasure your fingers have been giving you.

“Fuck. Stop touching yourself, then! I’m so hard I just need- just need to get inside that pretty cunt, please baby. Let’s go upstairs.”

“No.”

“God,” he shakes his head and wipes his forehead, cringing when he feels how sweaty he is. “Just need something, please. Something small. Just touch me, please?”

You smile and place your hand on his head, ruffling his hair. “I am.”

“Fuck, no. Touch my cock. Please, I just need t’cum, angel, please.”

“Hmm... you gonna be a good boy then?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #ask #anonymous #harrysgucciloafers #smutty concepts

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

Text

Kidnapped Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt.5

Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god

A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!

Masterlist link for previous parts:

Link to this chapter on AO3:

Taglist: @localdepressedvampire and one person recieving updates via email

The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.

You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.

“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.

Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.

“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.

“Still see that sass is intact.”

“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”

“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”

“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”

Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.

“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”

His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”

“It never came up.”

He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”

“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.

“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.

You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“

“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”

You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.

“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.

“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.

You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.

He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”

You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“

“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.

His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”

You look up at him. “Okay.”

He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.

In. Out.

In. OUT.

In… out

In.

Out.

In.

… out.

“Do you feel any better?”

You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”

He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”

“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.

“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”

You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.

“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”

Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.

“And so are you, Karl.”

He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”

“Angie? Who’s she.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

#Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg #Yandere Heisenberg #Yandere #Yandere x Reader #Heisenberg x Reader #Yandere Heisenberg x Reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil 8 x reader #resident evil village x reader #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8

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worldserasingandcreatinginmymind · 3 years

Text

Unfaithful | Part Two

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3243

Warnings: abusive behaviour, mentions of ‘bedroom activity’ 🙈

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part One | Masterlist

- - - - -

I knew weddings took a lot of planning, but I never realised they took this much. Every single tiny detail requires a decision and more often than not that decision falls on the bride’s shoulders.

Purple or yellow flowers?

Napkins folded as swans or roses?

Which table can we sit Uncle David at where he won’t start a fight?

I try to get Dan involved in the decision making but his response is always the same.

“It’s up to you babe”

Speaking of Daniel, I still haven’t told him we have to meet with the Priest again today. I tried a few times to bring it up but his mood changes instantly. I’ve still got a slight bruise on my wrist from the aftermath of the first meeting, but I keep it covered. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me.

I pull the sleeve of my jumper down over my wrist as I approach Daniel in the kitchen.

“You look nice, where you going today?” He asks as he makes himself a cup of tea.

“Actually…” I take a breath “we’ve got our second meeting with the Priest today”

“What do you mean? We’ve already met him once why do we need to go again?” He doesn’t look as me as he swirls the teabag around in his mug with a spoon.

“It’s just church policy, he has to meet with us a few times before the wedding”

“Well I’m not going”

“Dan-“

“I SAID NO!” He erupts, swiping his mug off the counter so it smashes and tea spills everywhere. He storms out of the kitchen, leaving me stood in the mess he’s made. I stare at it bewildered for a moment as it sinks in what he’s done and I feel my blood start to boil.

“Daniel!” I shout as I follow after him. I find him in the hallway taking his coat off the hook as he heads for the front door “where are you going?”

“Pub”

“Dan, the priest is expecting us in half an hour! Both of us!”

“Then I guess he’s doing to be disappointed. Or not. You two got along just fine the other day, it was almost as if I wasn’t even there”

“We both tried to include you in the conversation multiple times but you just… weren’t present”

“Well then today won’t be any different will it”

He walks out and slams the door behind him.

I stand alone in the hallway for a few minutes taking deep breaths to calm myself before taking out my phone and sending an email.

‘I’m really sorry father but I’m not feeling well so I need to reschedule today’s meeting. Sorry.’

— — — —

45 minutes later.

I clean when I’m stressed. And right now I’m the most stressed I’ve been in my life so I’ve decided to stress clean the whole house. Everything. Apart from the broken mug and spilled tea. Daniel can clean that shit up when he eventually gets back from his sulk.

I’m in the middle of vacuuming the living room when something catches my attention in the corner of my eye. My heart stops for a moment when I turn and see the Priest waving at me through the window.

I turn off the vacuum and open the front door, placing my hand over my chest.

“You startled me!”

“I guess now were even” he laughs awkwardly “I bought you these”

He pulls out a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

“Why?” I ask, not meaning to sound as ungrateful as I do, as he hands them to me.

“You said you were ill, I hoped these would cheer you up”

I don't quite know how to react so I end up just staring at him blankly. The truth is I’m speechless. He watches my face and the smile fades from his own.

“You don’t like them. Shit! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even come, I’ve overstepped my boundaries.” He rambles

“No! No! I love them I’m just-” I pause as I look down at the flowers in my hand “I think this is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me. No one ever buys me flowers”

“Well they should.”

For some reason I suddenly feel like a shy little school girl. I smile at him and he smiles back.

“Anyway I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Get well soon” he turns and begins walking down the driveway. I think for a moment.

“Father!” I call after him and he spins around to face me “would you like to come in?”

He nods and walks back to me, going past me into the house. I shut the door and gesture for him to go through into the kitchen, forgetting about Daniel’s mess.

“Oops” he says when he sees it “what happened there?”

“Daniel had an accident. He can be really clumsy sometimes” I laugh it off as I busy myself making us some tea.

“Can’t we all” he says, taking a seat at the dining table “will he be joining us?”

“No” I respond, a bit too quickly “he uh, he had to go out. I don't know when he’ll be back”

I carefully carry our cups of tea over to the dining table and take a seat opposite him.

“Never mind. Thank you” he smiles and takes a sip of tea “I actually wanted to talk to you about something without Daniel, if that’s okay?”

“Sure” I shrug, stirring some sugar into my tea.

“I hope you don't take this wrong way but-” he pauses, I can tell he’s nervous to say what he’s going to say next “Are you safe?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just… I saw what happened in the car park the other day”

“I don't know what you're talking about” I say casually as I remove the spoon from my tea and place it down on the table. The priest reaches over and goes to touch my wrist but I pull it away quickly, instinctively pulling my sleeve down over my hand as his eyes search my own.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” He asks quietly and I shake my head “I saw the way you held your wrist as you walked away from him Y/N and I could see the bruises just now.”

I can’t bare the way he’s looking at me anymore so I cast my eyes down to the table, but he continues to stare at me.

“Y/N? Talk to me, that’s what I’m here for. If he’s abusive to you-”

“He’s not” I finally speak as I look up at him again “he’s not like that, he’s kind and caring and… he would never intentionally hurt me. I just caught him on a bad day”

“And what about today? With the tea?” He gestures to the shattered mug on the floor “That wasn’t an accident was it? Is that why you cancelled today?”

“No! It’s just the stress of planning a wedding is getting to us both. But we’re fine! Honestly”

I take a breath as I smile at him, but I can see he’s not totally convinced. He looks at me for a moment before speaking.

“Give me your phone” he holds his hand out across the table

“What? Why?”

“I’m giving you my number, no one emails anymore” he jokes “So you can contact me whenever you need a chat, okay? Any time. Well apart from Sunday mornings, cause you know, church.”

“Of course” I smile

“And preferably not late. I’ve been really enjoying going to bed at 9.30 recently” he winks and we both laugh “I’m kidding. Well not about going to bed at 9.30, I do actually do that. But you can call or text me anytime and I will always get back to you. I promise”

He gives me a really sincere smile and I feel a weird flutter in my stomach as I smile back.

— — — —

Almost two hours later the priest is only just getting ready to leave after we got carried away talking. We talked about all sorts. Our childhoods, our hobbies, our fears. He told me about his fear of foxes, and how they’ve apparently stalked him throughout his life. He even told me about his first ever wedding and the drama that surrounded the family. We’ve been talking for so long we didn’t realise its starting to get dark. He opens the front door and steps out just as Daniel comes walking toward the house, I see the anger in his face as he spots the priest.

“What the fuck is he doing here!” He yells as he stomps towards us

“Daniel!” I warn but he ignores me, squaring up to the priest. I try to get between them and smell the stench of booze on him “are you drunk?!”

“So what if I am? Huh? You got a problem with that?” his breath on my face makes me want to gag “cause you know, I got a problem with this asshole being in my house”

“We just had some wedding stuff to discuss but it’s all sorted now so I’m going” the priest tries to diffuse the situation “I’ll see you both soon”

“Like fuck you will” Daniel spits before going into the house.

I mouth “I’m sorry” to the priest and he just shakes his head and smiles at me before leaving.

Back in the house I ignore Daniel’s drunken ranting, going straight to the kitchen to clear away the left over cups of tea. Aggravated that I’m not paying him attention, Daniel follows me into the kitchen. He picks the flowers up from the counter.

“Did he give you these?” He asks but I ignore him, angering him more. He rips the flowers to shreds, dumping them on the floor.

I step over them and I place our mugs next to sink, grab a cloth and some cleaner before going back to wipe down the table. Suddenly a mug flies past me, just missing my face as it smashes against the wall. I slowly turn to look at Daniel and stare him out before I dropping the cloth on the table and walking out. I grab my handbag and throw my jacket around my shoulders as I walk out of the house, slamming the door behind me. Daniel doesn’t dare to follow me, he knows he pushed me too far.

I’ve been walking for about half an hour before I realise, I have no idea where I’m going. I’m just wondering aimlessly, letting my feet carry me wherever they want to go. Eventually I find myself standing outside the church. I place my hand on the wooden doors and pause, contemplating whether to go inside or carry on walking till I find a bar to drink at. To my surprise the doors gently swing open, but theres no one stood behind them. I take this as a sign that I should go in.

As I enter the silent church and walk down the aisle I can’t help but imagine myself here in a few weeks wearing my white dress. I reach the front and turn back to stare out at the empty pews, picturing my friends and family smiling back at me as I stand with the man I’ll spend the rest of my life with.

A thought that used to fill me with excitement, currently filling me with dread.

I grunt with frustration as I flop down to the floor, sitting on the step with my head in my hands. Frustration turns to anger, which turns to sadness and soon I can’t stop the tears rolling down my face. I sit there silently crying until…

“You can’t be in here!”

I look up and wipe my eyes as a very grumpy looking middle aged lady stomps towards me.

“Sorry”

“No ones allowed in at night”

“The door was open, I just presumed-”

“Well it shouldn’t have been and you need to leave” she ushers me back to the doors.

“Okay, I’m going. Sorry!”

“Y/N?” A familiar voice calls and I look back to see the priest emerging from his office “what are you doing here?”

“She’s just leaving Father, I’m sorry for the disturbance” the woman answers

“It’s alright Pam, she can stay”

The woman I now know is Pam looks from the priest to me, then back to the priest again before backing off slightly.

“Okay…” she says slowly, like she suspects something “I’ll just be upstairs if you need me. Goodnight Father”

“Good night Pam” he replies.

She gives me one last look before disappearing out a door. I look at the priest, who just rolls his eyes and laughs as he gestures for me to follow him.

I walk into his office and take a seat.

“So, that was Pam” he says, closing the office door and taking a seat opposite me.

“I gathered” I nod my head “She’s a bit…”

“Insane”

“I was gonna say intense, but yeah” I laugh, feeling self conscious as I notice he’s studying my face. My cheeks are probably still blotchy and eyes blood shot from crying. There’s a small silence before he finally speaks.

“Are you okay?”

I look at him, not sure how to answer.

“Did he hurt you?” He changes the question

“No” I shake my head “but he did break another mug. I’m gonna have to get insurance out on the ones we’ve got left at this rate” I joke but he continues to study my face, before finally jumping up out his chair.

“Do you want a drink? A proper drink. I’ve got some cans of G&T hidden away in here”

He opens a cupboard and grabs a Marks and Spencers plastic bag, pulling out two cans.

“Are you sure you're a priest?” I laugh as he hands me a can “I mean you drink, you swear.. what other rules do you break?”

“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you”

“Murder too?” I say a bit too loud, flinching as I hear a banging above me

“Oh shit, Pam! She doesn’t like me being loud. Or having fun in general. Let’s go outside”

“What about the foxes?” I tease and he shakes his head at me as he opens the door and gestures me to walk out.

— — — —

We sit on a bench just outside the church overlooking the graveyard and talk for about half an hour before I realise something.

“You know what’s strange?” I say, suddenly changing the subject “This is only really our third time meeting. I haven’t known you for very long at all but when we talk I feel like I’ve known you for years!”

“That is strange” he humours me, taking a sip of his drink

“Our conversations remind me of how Daniel and I used to be. Back when we could talk to each other properly. These days I’m lucky if we don't end up in an argument”

“And you wanna marry this guy?”

“Of course I do” I reply, slightly taken aback by the forwardness of his question “We’ve known each other pretty much our whole lives. We’ve been together so long- I wouldn’t know what to do without him”

“That’s not a reason to stay with someone, especially if they don't make you happy anymore. Being in love with someone and being dependant on them are different things.” He pauses, studying me “Do you love Daniel?”

I stare at him, replaying the question in my mind over and over again.

“Y/N?”

I realise I don’t know the answer and a feeling of panic begins to bubble inside me. I jump up from the seat.

“I have to go”

I quickly begin walking down the path to the front of the church, followed by the Priest who calls after me. I don't stop walking.

“It’s really late, Dan’s probably wondering I am so…”

“Y/N, wait please!”

I stop and turn back to look at him.

“I’m sorry if that was too much, but these are things you need to think seriously about.”

“I know! I will.” I nod and flash him a quick smile “thanks for the drink”

I hold my can up in a ‘cheers’ before turning and continuing my walk back home.

— — — —

As I walk up the driveway of my house I can see Daniel through the window fast asleep on the sofa in front of the tv. I finish the last bit of my drink and hide the can in my handbag as I unlock the front door and sneak into the house. I hang my coat and bag up and slip my shoes off before quietly climbing the stairs and getting into bed.

Laying in bed my mind can’t help but wonder to the Priest. I feel bad for the way the conversation ended. I shouldn’t have freaked out and walked off like that. He just looking out for me.

I grab my phone and send a text.

‘Thanks for not letting Pam kick me out tonight, I really appreciate it. Good night’

I put my phone back on the beside table, not expecting a reply anytime soon because its so late. To my surprise it vibrates almost immediately. I pick it up and read:

‘No problem, here for you anytime! Sleep well x’

A small smile spreads on my face as my eyes fixate on the small ‘x’ at the end of his text. It probably means nothing but I cant help but feel a flutter in my stomach.

The feeling a quickly taken over by dread as I hear footsteps up the stairs. I put my phone back on the table and roll over in bed, making out like I’m asleep. The mattress sinks as Daniel climbs into bed next to me and I feel his breath on the side of my face. At least he doesn’t smell of beer anymore.

“I’m sorry” he whispers as his arm snakes over my waist and he plants a kiss on my cheek “I’m really really sorry”

I turn my head slightly to look up at him, but I don't say anything.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You know what I’m like when I drink”

“That’s no excuse Daniel”

“I know, I know! I’m sorry. I’m going to change, try harder for you. Okay?”

I nod my head, knowing full well its bullshit. He’s said this before, said he’ll be different but the next day he’s always back to his same old self.

“No more shouting. No more lashing out. No more hurting you. I promise.” He plants kisses on my skin with each sentence. “I’m going to be the perfect husband for you and im going to make it up to you. Starting now.”

He kisses down my jaw, to my neck and down my shoulder as he gently pulls me so I’m lying on my back. Then he kisses down my chest and slips under the duvet, kissing all the way down my body till he reaches that place only he has ever been.

I close my eyes, enjoying the pleasure that’s rippling through me as my breathing gets more ragged before I realise…

In my imagination its not my soon to be husband with his head between my legs…

It’s the dark haired, brown eyed man who’s supposed to be marrying us.

Oh my God, I fancy a priest.

part three

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines)

#fleabag #fleabag fic #fleabag imagine #hot priest #hot priest imagine #hot priest x reader #andrew scott #Andrew Scott priest #andrew scott x reader #phoebe waller bridge #nicolasfam

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maeve-writes · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Hell

Inspired by: Beautiful Hell by ADNA

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (tfatws) x Reader (experiment/mutant!Reader) Rating: 18+, Minors DNI Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk. Summary: Your past shows up in an unexpected way thanks to Bucky Barnes. You just wanted to be... normal, not caught up in the life of a hero or worse, and yet you’re drawn to him, addicted to him even. You thought that part of your life was over, but your relationship opens up a whole new chapter that you’re not sure you’re ready for. a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. I have not written anything that wasn’t work related in about three years, so I’m a little rusty. This is just a dip of my toe back into the water. I’d like to continue this if there is any interest! Thanks for reading!

There’s very little that makes you upset these days. You have a great job, a cozy apartment, and wonderful friends. It’s taken a long time for you to find stability and even longer for you to accept that it was okay to have it. Most of that struggle was on your own, but you eventually found others like you that were dealing with the same inner turmoil and you’ve grown.

The group still meets twice a month, but now you run it. You see the same pain and anger in the eyes of strangers that you once held, you’ve been in their shoes and you want to help start their journey of healing and self discovery. You would never turn someone away who wanted help, who sought out the chance to better themselves, but six feet of muscle and adamantium shuffles into the recreation room of the local Boy’s and Girl’s Club, and you bend the already folded aluminum chair in half.

The squeak of the metal catches his attention and his brow knits together. His eyes dance between your face, the chair, and back again. “Cheap material,” you say weakly with a lift of your shoulders. You watch as he puckers his lips in thought and his hands are shoved into his jacket.

One of your regulars, Sarah, takes the chair from you and tries to right it once more, but finds it more difficult than you played it up to be. “Set up the rest, I’ve got this,” you tell her, happy to tear your attention away from the man. You reset the bars of the chair and unfold it, placing it on the floor to see if it will act as it should. It’s a little wonky, the bend leans it too far back, but it will hold you - it’s a chair.

You sit among the circle and begin. People sip their coffee and share their stories for the week. The new people introduce themselves, including him, but everyone already knows his name. He didn’t share this time, but you could tell he wanted to from the way his jaw clenched and the uncomfortable shifts in his sheet. You were like that once, you know just how he feels.

Two hours pass and the crowd slowly trickles out. You start the clean up, the putting away of the chairs. You move around the room and do your best to ignore his eyes burning into you - into your soul. “You could at least help clean,” you tell him without looking up from the sink against the far wall where you now stand. “Chairs still need to be put away.”

It takes a few beats, but you hear his heavy footsteps fall behind you and the eventual scrap of metal as the chairs are being folded. There’s a steady rhythm to his method, a clink of his metal arm against the chair, the screech as the chair is closed and his footfalls to the corner to put it away.

You finish your last coffee pot, drying your hands and turn to see the wonky chair in his hold. “Cheap material,” he repeats, looking down at it before he bends it back and forth. You see him trying to mold it back into better shape than you had earlier as your face grows hotter by the second. When he deems it “good enough,” he brings it over to join the others. “Who are you?”

“No one,” you reply instantly.

His head snaps around, blue eyes burning, “You’re a horrible liar.”

“Not true,” you counter, “I’ve lied to myself for years.”

He turns to you fully and crosses his arms over his broad chest. He doesn’t find your attempt at what he thinks is a joke funny. “Who are you,” he asks again, his voice becoming clipped and impatient.

You tell him your name, your full name but it does not ring any bells to him. It wouldn’t, not in a way he would realize. “You saved someone years ago, not as… you, but as,” you pause and wave the towel you used to dry your hands, “you know.” You try your best to ignore how his body tenses up and you continue, “You killed his wife and his unborn son. You changed him. Changed everything, really. Somehow, I got caught up in it all.”

His hardened stare quickly shifts into curiosity and you force yourself to look away before you crash into the stormy blue. “They pumped us full of all sorts of stuff. A lot of us didn’t make it. I can still hear the screams if I try.” You grind your teeth to make yourself stop falling into that abyss. “But my dad raised me by himself, he taught me how to survive, how to be strong. He always told me: Girl, if you’re gonna go down, go down swingin’. And I forced myself to keep going, no matter what they did, I wasn’t going to let those assholes get the best of me.”

The towel was back in both of your hands now, pulled and stretched as you tried not to think about the pain and the loneliness that followed. “But eventually I was freed, just like you freed that other guy. I got a chance to be him now… but I didn’t take it.” The terry cloth ripped in half and your arms fell by your sides.

You dared to look up at the man and you inwardly swore. His face was so painfully beautiful, full lips were in a pout and his eyes twinkled blue in their sadness, in their empathy. “They wanted us to be something and I wasn’t going to let someone else define me. I ran for years, scared and alone. I had to change my life over and over because I didn’t want them to find me, then I realized I was actually doing what they wanted… I was being someone I’m not.”

You crossed the room to the trash can nearby and not too far behind he followed. The two of you began to toss half-eaten pastries and empty disposable coffee cups. “So, I settled down here, started to go by my real name and took any threat that came my way.” You watched him sniff at an uneaten danish, “Cherry, I think.” His shoulder lifts in a ‘what-the-hell’ kind of way and he takes a bite. “It took about two decades for them to stop,” you finish, “and I was able to finally start to live my life.”

He silently offers half of the danish to you, which you decline. “And when the world went to hell in a hand-basket, you what, sat here and lived your life?” The blow was meant to sting and it did. He didn’t know if you were gone in The Blip but from your recoil, he got his answer. “I don’t know what they did to you, but you obviously have the ability to help people, you should use it.”

“I do,” you reply, offended. “This,” you wave your hands around for the second that evening, “helps people. Just because I don’t strap on leather and beat up bad guys doesn’t mean I don’t make a difference.”

Bucky stills completely, even his breathing, and he looks down into the trash can he has been pushing around for you. It looks as though he wants to toss himself in it. “You’re right,” he says with a heavy exhale, “that wasn’t fair of me. It’s just… the world is running low on heroes, they’re now relying on a guy in a bird suit.”

“I thought that guy was your friend,” you ask with a tilt of your head.

When the corner of his mouth tips up into a boyish smile, you mirror it with a toothy grin because of how infectious it is. “Yeah,” he nods, “I guess he is. But I just hate being the only muscle.”

“You’re plenty enough for this hemisphere,” you laugh and reach out to pat his shoulder, when you feel the muscle packed there, you whistle through your teeth, “and maybe the other one, too.”

He laughs and rolls the shoulder you tapped, tossing off your hand playfully. “Yeah, well it wouldn’t hurt to have more because getting hurt hurts.” You two exchange smiles and finish trash detail. He ties up the full bag and prepares to bring it out while you work on putting a new one in the can.

You lead him out back to the dumpsters and he tosses the bag in after you open the heavy metal lid. When it falls closed again with a loud, ringing bang, you pull out a pack of sanitizing wipes and offer him one which he gladly accepts. “This might not be the right time,” he begins, eyes drawn to the large, smelly trash bin next to the pair of you, “but would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

“Who knew you were so romantic, Sergeant Barnes,” you tease to hide your fluttering heartbeat that he can undoubtedly hear. Under the pale yellow beam of the streetlights you can see the flush forming on his face that mirrors your own. “I’m free tomorrow around seven.”

Bucky straightens to his full height and his eyes sparkle brightly when that boyish curl makes its way back to his lips. “Then it’s a date,” he nods as you both pull out your phones to exchange numbers and you give him your address.

“Don’t be late,” you warn him, tone playfully serious, “I get angry if I don’t eat before eight. Bad things happen if I don’t eat.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods with a low rumbling chuckle, “I don’t plan to disappoint you.”

Your face splits into a smile and you lead your way back in, “See you tomorrow, Sergeant.”

“Tomorrow,” he says, his eyes trained on your every move. “And it can’t come soon enough,” he adds under his breath.

Your day goes by in a blur. Work is stressful but rewarding. Even though you love your job, your mind was not completely on it. Just past noon you received a text: Just seeing if this works. I’m looking forward to tonight. Have a good day. BB

It is unclear if he does not really know how texts work or if it is his excuse to send you one, but either way it makes you giddier than a schoolgirl. You reread it several times, answer a few work related calls and emails before you finally answer back: It works! I’m also looking forward to tonight. My day was good, but your text made it better. Hope yours is fantastic! xx

You are hesitant to hit send, but if you are going to shoot your shot, then you might as well go all in. Your phone doesn’t even go to sleep before you get another text in return: I’m about to see the prettiest gal in town, my day will be more than fantastic. How do you feel about sushi and bowling? BB

Of all of the things to do, especially together, you would not think of Bucky Barnes to pick that as your first night out together, but you had a weakness for sushi and your competitive side could never say no to a game or two: I haven’t been bowling in years, but I’m sure I can teach you a few things. xx

Oh, sweetheart, you’ll be learning a thing or two before the night is over. BB

You aren’t sure if you guys are talking about bowling anymore and that thought lights a fire in your belly. With a shaky breath you send your last reply: I’ll be happy to learn anything as long as I get to call you Professor Barnes and I can stay after class for extra credit. ;) xx

It isn’t until two hours after your lunch that you get your last reply from him: Looking up that reference sent me to the part of the internet that I’m still not used to, but I’m glad I did. You don’t happen to have a skirt and some of those socks that go up to your knees, do you? Don’t answer that, I won’t be able to make it through dinner. See you at 7. BB

You did happen to have just what he asked for and it was tempting to wear it, but you tucked the idea into your pocket for another time. Instead, you picked something more appropriate for bowling, a pair of navy skinny fit cotton dress pants with enough stretch to not rip when you bent over to toss a ball, a curve hugging camisole that was draped by a soft, cream colored cashmere sweater.

After messing with your hair for an hour, you settled for a messy bun and just finished your makeup when your doorbell rang. You call out to him to “hold on” as you shuffle through your apartment, trying to wriggle into your loafers on the way to open the door. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry,” you apologize as you pull open the door.

He’s standing in the doorway dressed in a canvas jacket over a plain black shirt, dark jeans over his long, thick legs and his normal boots top it off. “You look gorgeous,” he says, forcing you away from your lingering gaze as it continues to travel up and down his body like he’s the one for dinner. “These are for you,�� he presents a bouquet of flowers with an unsure smile. “They’re beautiful,” you say wistfully, taking the flowers and stepping aside to let him in. “Thank you.” He nods and stands near the door as you finish putting on your shoes. “Let me put these in water and we can go.” “Take your time,” he says and trains his eyes on you. They follow you through the apartment, to the kitchen as you look through your cabinets for a vase. When you bend over, his head tilts ever so slightly which you can see out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to try and catch him, he just smiles innocently. “Need any help?”

“I’ll manage,” you laugh and eventually find a vase. The flowers are arranged not so elegantly into the glass, but you add water and place them in the center of your kitchen island. “Now, I’m starving and getting hangry.”

“Hangry,” he repeats. “That doesn’t sound good. I guess I should feed you before that happens.” He holds out an arm and like a magnet you are drawn to him and latch to it, maybe it’s because of the metal. Nevertheless, you walk arm and arm to the sushi hole-in-the-wall two blocks away, eating in a small booth in the corner to hide away from prying eyes.

You learn about Bucky Barnes for the first time. Like everyone else, you hear things from the news, from the internet, you try to shift through the lies and mess. But here you’re learning what he likes, what he’s learned, what he wants to learn. He doesn’t give his past up as freely as you did, it’s obvious he’s still coming to terms with it, but everyone travels at their own pace.

He learns about you, too. He asks you about things none of your past dates have asked. Hell, even your past boyfriends and girlfriends weren’t interested in half of the stuff Bucky manages to squeeze out of you. And you find it so easy to talk to him, so natural. You’ve only known him for two days, but it feels like decades.

Your hand slips into his when you leave the restaurant and head to the bowling alley. He laces your fingers together two blocks into your walk and you once again wrap your free hand around his arm. It pains you to move away when you have to go in and put on the bowling shoes.

“Before we begin,” he says to you as he watches you put your names into the computer, “let’s make a bet.” You finish entering the ‘y’ of his name and lift an inquisitive brow his way. “If you win, you can have one thing you would want from me.”

You twist in your seat and narrow your eyes, “And if you win?”

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, you watch it disappear with a pout, “I get a kiss.”

“You could just ask for one,” you laugh and slowly lean towards him.

Bucky, too, leans in and bumps noses with you, “Yeah, but it’s more fun if I work for it.” He sits back and winks, trying not to laugh at your deflated and deepening pout. “C’mon, sweetheart, you’re up first.”

You sigh heavily and pick up the bright green ball that you picked from the line waiting to be thrown. “Okay, if I win, then I get to wear that skirt and socks for you,” you say over your shoulder before you toss the ball down the lane. It rolls down the center and knocks down all ten pins as STRIKE flashes on the screen above you.

When you flop down in the chair next to him, he’s still staring at the spot where you stood moments before, gears still churning. “Hey,” you laugh, snapping your fingers in front of his face to knock him out of his daze, “are you okay?”

“Would it be wrong of me to lose on purpose,” he asks sheepishly. You roll your eyes and cross your arms and he lifts his own in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it, that’s no fun. Just know, darlin’, I don’t go down without a fight.” He steps up and takes the same ball you used and chucks it halfway down the lane before it, too, knocks down all ten pins. He turns to you, a smirk plastered on his face.

As much as you loved to have fun, you loved to win more. “Is that how it’s going to be,” you asked, getting up to pass him on the way to take your turn.

He laughs, pressing close as you both slow when you come into each other’s orbit. “That’s how it’s going to be,” he nods and rakes over his lip with his teeth. A challenge is set and you don’t back down. Strikes and spares are thrown by the both of you in between lingering touches and whispered sweet nothings.

In the hour you two have rented the lane, you managed two games and with one point over you, Bucky wins. He doesn’t claim his prize right there, it’s too public and there’s far too many people around. Instead, he offers to walk you home and you happily accept as long as you can wrap yourself around him once again, which you do.

You two try to take your time on the way back, enjoying the crisp evening air, but more so each other's company. The conversation from dinner continues as a flow of likes and dislikes between more sweet nothings. You’re lovedrunk by the time you’re at your front door and you don’t want the night to come to an end.

Reluctantly, you release him from your hold and he looks as disappointed as you feel. “Tonight has been wonder-” “I had such a great-” you both begin simultaneously and trail off together, ending in nervous laughter.

“Thank you,” you tell him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “for such an amazing night.”

“I should be thanking you,” he says, a hand timidly reaching out to rest on your hip. “I’ve been a little rusty at this kind of thing, but you made it easy.” His thumb traces the arc of your hip bone and you step closer to him. “But, you know, I might need some more practice.” You resisted to roll your eyes, but the laughter bubbles between the both of you. The distance closes by one of you, and you don’t care who, but you find your hands splayed across his chest, “I think I can help you out there.”

“That would be my second win of the night,” he grins down at you, his eyes trained on your lips.

“Speaking of my win,” he trails off. His flesh hand raises to your cheek and you instinctively lean into it. Your nose wrinkles at his chuckle but it doesn’t stop you from raising on your toes to close what little space there was between you.

You could sense his hesitation, the silent question of what was enough and what was too much. A small hum bubbled in your throat as you pushed your hands up his chest, nails scraping up his neck and into his hair. You could feel the shiver ripple throughout his body and his teeth came out to bite down on your bottom lip.

It was your turn to laugh now and he licked into your mouth in return, turning it into a whimpering moan. You could feel his triumphant smirk against your lips and you reward it with a tug of his hair. His hips instantly buck against you which throws you off balance, but he catches you with his metal arm winding around your back and pins you against him.

Your tongues slip and slide against one another, the taste of his sushi and beer choice mixes with your own. Your nails once again claw along his scalp and cause him to growl into your mouth. He surges forward with you in his grip and crowds you against your door, reluctantly breaking away for air, “We should say goodnight,” Bucky whispered against your kiss swollen lips.

“You can tell me good morning when you wake up next to me tomorrow,” you shoot back and roll your hips against his, causing both of you to react with a strained moan.

“Are you sure,” he asks, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“I’ve got a spare toothbrush with your name on it,” you nod. You watch him debate the issue with himself before placing one last chaste kiss on your lips before losing his grip just enough to let you open the door.

You two stumble in, Bucky pulling you back to him, his mouth kissing along your jaw as you try to lock up for the night. You barely got the deadbolt turned when his teeth sank into your sink causing you to cry out. He instantly licks at apologetically and turns his attention to getting you undressed instead.

When your sweater is pulled over your head, you push off Bucky’s jacket, both falling to the floor near the door. Shoes are next to go, sloppily kicked off near each other and once again you two are drawn back together, tongues dancing. Your fingers twist into the short brown locks and his hands snaked down to your ass. He lightly cups each cheek, using them to bring you as close as possible, and even though your bodies leave very little room for air to pass through you still try to move closer.

“Bed,” he breathes into your mouth. You give him a quick nod. With a happy groan, he squeezes you by your bottom, picking you up to carry you to your room, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist.

Your small one bedroom apartment isn't anything special, but it is yours and it has the biggest, comfiest bed that you are in love with. Bucky easily guides you both there, not once breaking your kiss aside from grunting or growling from your teasing hair pulls or the rolls of your hips.

He climbs onto the mattress with you still wrapped around his upper half, crawling up to the pile of pillows near the headboard where he eventually lays you down. His weight settles above you, and normally, you would welcome it’s warmth and comfort, but at that moment, you want it to be rough and needy. “Bucky,” you whine, this time the one to break the kiss.

Flushed cheeks and blown pupils, he looks down at you, boxing you in with his arms on either side of your head. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“You’re wearing too much,” you tell him as you try to pull off his shirt, it makes it up to his shoulders before it stops. His laugh shakes his entire body and yours, which makes you pout in return.

“You’re wearing the same amount, doll,” he reminds you, looking down to see your breasts sway in your camisole. “Far, far too much, in my opinion.”

You roll your eyes and playfully slap at his chest, “Then do something about it.” He mutters something about impatience and sits on his knees between your parted thighs as he pulls his shirt over his head to toss it aside.

“Your turn,” he nods to your shirt while he works on the buckle of his belt. You hastily pull the top over your head and work on your slacks, wriggling out of them just as does his own. He sits back on his hunches and looks you over, laying spread out in a matching white lace bra and underwear set. Now at he’s down to his boxer briefs, you can see how big he his, how hard he is, and when his wandering eyes rest on your covered sex, you can see it twitch with anticipation. “Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”

You didn’t think your entire body could blush from embarrassment, but Bucky just proved you could. “That’s my line,” you return, taking in every inch of his exposed skin over hard muscle. Super serum or not, Bucky Barnes was a gorgeous specimen. When you two finally lock eyes once more, you both shiver. “Are you going to touch me?”

He lets out a shaky breath and reaches out to run a hand lightly over your damp panties, slick from your want for him. “I’m afraid I’ll never stop,” he replies honestly, instantly addicted to the needy whimpers you are giving him.

“I don’t think I would want you to,” you groan. “Please?” You feel his fingertips dance over the lace, tracing over the pattern and causing you to throb with need. “Bucky!”

“You need me, don’t you,” he asks, voice dropping to a low rumble that hits you right at your core and makes your toes curl. “You need my touch. Need me to satisfy that ache?” You nod desperately trying to sit up to pull him down on top of you, but he pins you down before you could rise. “Tell me,” he purrs.

“I need you,” you respond instantly. You’re rewarded with his fingers pushing the panties aside and begin to dance along the slick folds.

“You need what,” he goads. He finds your clit and rubs it once to draw a happy mew from you but stops much to your disappointment.

“I need you, Bucky. I need you to touch me, to kiss me,” you whine with a rock of your hips, trying to get him to move again, but he doesn’t. “I need you to taste me, to lick me, to fuck me.”

Smile on his kiss bruised lips, his thumb swirls around your bud and he sinks his middle finger into you with a groan. “You’re tight,” he hisses as he sinks knuckle-deep, “and dripping. Shit, you’re going to feel like heaven.”

You can’t focus on what he’s saying too much. The feel of his fingers pumping in and out of you feels good, feels right, but it’s not enough, even when he adds two or three. He works you open, your slick starting to run down his fingers, and he palms himself over his briefs. “Bucky, please,” your voice cracks, “I need more.”

He nods, he has time to take you apart with just his fingers later, but it’s been so long since he’s been with someone like this, someone he’s felt like this with, he needs it as much as you do. When he removes his fingers from you, you whine at the loss but it cuts off into a gasp as you watch him lap and suck off your slick from his hand. Bucky freezes, eyes narrowing, and for a moment you’re wondering if you did something wrong. “What? What is it?”

“Trying to stop myself from eating you alive,” he says through clenched teeth, jaw visibly flexing with the effort. You blink up at him, confused, but he shakes his head and forces himself to remove his boxer briefs. “I’m having you for breakfast,” he decides.

“Uh huh,” you reply absently, your mouth watering as his cock bounces against his stomach when it’s free. It’s long, thick, and leaking, trying to hypnotize you and very much succeeding.

“I’ll let you return the favor, sweetheart,” he laughs. His flesh hand spreads his pre-cum down his shaft and he pumps slowly while his metal hand pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “Still with me?”

Blinking free of your daze, you stare at his lustful gaze and nod. He moves closer, hooks your legs over the bends of his elbows and runs the head of his cock along your folds. Your hole twitches desperately for him, “Such a pretty little pussy, so needy.” Your hands wrap around his wrists and grip at him tightly, hard enough to make him hiss. “You’ve been a good girl, I guess I can give you what you want.”

He pushes in agonizingly slow, the head of his cock sinking in what felt like centimeter by centimeter. You clench around him, trying to draw more of him in, but Bucky takes his time to bottom out. When he is finally fully seated in you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and apparently so did he. “Fuck,” you say simultaneously.

Your legs are positioned around his waist and he once again frames your head with his forearms, which, in turn, pushes him further inside of you. “You feel so good, doll,” he whispers against the ‘o’ of your lips. “So warm, so tight, taking me so good.” Your hands find their way up his arms and into his hair. All it takes is one tug that has him growling, “And I’m going to ruin this pretty pussy so good that it’s going to feel me all week.” He rolls his hips back as slowly as he originally pushed in, “And I wanna hear you tell everyone who it belongs to while I do it.”

He snaps his hips forward driving you up the bed and further into the pillows, a cry getting caught in your throat from it. His pace is brutal, skin slaps against skin, and his mouth seeks out yours. The kiss is sloppy, but hungry, just as primal as his pistoning hips. You hold on to him the best you can as the bed rocks, headboard slamming against the wall. Your nails trail against his skin, egging him on and drawing sinful noises from love-swollen lips.

His hips shift angles and eventually find that spot that makes you see stars. “Bucky,” you cry out breathlessly, uncurling your toes and removing your nails from his shoulder blades. He buries his face in your neck and marks you with his teeth and tongue as he relentlessly fucks towards your brink. “So… f-fuck- so close.”

“Cum for me then, sweetheart,” Bucky growls against your skin, snaking a hand between your bodies to work at your clit. “Show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.” His thumb rubs over your bud once, twice and a white hot punch in your gut blossoms throughout your body as you let out a strangled cry of his name.

You can feel yourself clamp around him, working him impossibly deeper, begging him to fall down into the abyss with you. And he does, hard. He chases his bliss with you, your name a mantra spilling from his lips as he spills inside of you. He doesn’t stop until you’ve both become too sensitive to handle anymore. He pulls out of you with a heavy sigh and falls next to you on the bed onto his stomach.

“Holy shit,” you finally break the silence, “that was…”

“Yeah,” he agrees, his head turned to look at you with tired, blissful eyes. “Goddamn, yeah it was.”

You weakly reach around to search for his hand and eventually find it, he lances his fingers with yours. You don’t break eye contact when he leans over to share a few chaste kisses before collapsing again. “You’re fantastic, Bucky, and I want you to know that was the hottest sex I have had to date.”

His post orgasm bliss is shattered and replaced with a furrowed brow, “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“...but as hot as it is feeling you drip out of me, I need to shower,” you finish. You can see the relief wash over him and he nods in understanding.

“I’ve got a good memory,” he yawns and taps at his head, “that image is stored right here.” You fight a blush and slide off of your bed to head to the bathroom when seconds later you hear him do the same. He shrugs at your questioning look, “No need to waste water, right?”

You laugh as you turn on the faucets only to be crowded against the wall and your mouth is covered with his once more. The water splashing against your bodies and the echoing sounds of your moans drown out the repeated calls to Bucky’s phone. Mission. Suit up. SW

Answer your damn phone. SW

It’s the green button. SW

Green button and slide right. SW

Dammit, if you blocked me again, I stg. SW

Man, what are you doing in Soho? Yes, I’m tracking you. OMW. SW

a/n: To be continued?

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes tfatws #bucky tfatws #bucky barnes fatws #bucky fatws #Beautiful Hell bb fic

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 3 years

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Hi! Obviously ignore this if I'm asking something too personal, but you've mentioned that you're in the process of converting to judaism and I've been wondering how did you start? I've done a good bit of research and think it's something I'm interested in, but I have no idea what the actual process of conversion looks like, much less where to begin. Obviously feel free to ignore, or send me towards someone else, but thought I'd ask!

Hey no worries, anon! So, I will preface this by being forthcoming and saying I got partway through the conversion process, was forced to move, and ended up in a different part of the country with only one shul nearby whose rabbi (and community) are… very unfriendly to converts. They don’t SAY they are, but a few months of attendance and a handful of meetings with the rabbi with regards to conversion really hammered home that neither my wife nor I felt even remotely comfortable converting here, considering it’s a very personal and often vulnerable process, and wherein you have to actually like… trust and communicate with the rabbi you’re working with. So my conversion, while I still consider it “in progress”, is in an indefinite stall until we can move somewhere else or can reliably get to the next closest shul, which we currently cannot for various reasons.

ANYWAY. I started by doing a lot of research. Mostly I was just looking into… all kinds of religion, including Islam actually, because I missed the community and the structure and the spiritual anchors of my very conservative evangelical christian upbringing, but I didn’t like or want to return to the actual, y’know…. beliefs and tenets of Christianity. I found Judaism and just… the more I read and researched about the beliefs and the general culture of questioning and grappling with things within it, the more I felt like I’d found a people who I could understand, and a religion that understood me and would allow for me to be uncomfortable and question why things are taught certain ways and so forth. Which was one of many things that drove me away from Christianity, as I was not good at the whole “blind faith” thing. (they insist it’s not blind, but if you’re not supposed to question god then… what else IS it?)

At that point we were living in upstate new york, and the nearest reform shul was very small, did not have a permanent rabbi (there was one for a number of local communities that cycled around every few weeks), and really while they were officially reform they seemed to as a community have a practice and beliefs a lot closer to something like reconstructionist or humanist Judaism. I went to shabbat services on fridays there for a few months, and they were very nice but said they were very much not a usual reform congregation and that I should probably actually convert somewhere with a permanent rabbi and that was a bit more traditional, but that in the meantime they were more than happy to have me attend services and events with them. They were very sweet and I did appreciate that opportunity to accustom myself to the general pacing and content of a friday night shabbat service.

At that point we get to the part that you’re actually asking about, and I’m sorry if you’re just like “OH MY GOSH MAGS PLS JUST GET TO THE POINT” which is when we moved back down to Florida and I actually properly started the conversion process with a rabbi! I started out emailing the local shul and saying that I had just moved to the area, I was not Jewish but was interested in possibly converting and had been attending services at a very small shul up north, and is it all right if I attend a few shabbat services while I consider converting? I will say, I have never been told “no please don’t attend” about going to shabbat services, but especially with the world the way it is, and me being new and not knowing anyone in the community or having anyone to vouch for me, I prefer to ask beforehand so that they know to expect someone new who is reaching out and less likely to be a threat.

Anyway after a couple of weeks at that shul, I already loved the people and could tell I would get on pretty well with the rabbi, so I emailed her again about setting up a meeting to discuss converting. We had the meeting, talked about why I wanted to convert, what would be required of me, etc. She got me set up with a book list and some books from the shul library, gave me a reading assignment and asked me to write down any thoughts or questions I had, along with some other things that were kind of reading comprehension stuff, and told me to email her when I had finished so we could have another meeting. She also stipulated that she would have me live and practice through a full year of the Jewish calendar at minimum before she’d declare me ready to go to the mikvah, and we’d meet regularly, I’d do a lot of reading, I needed to attend a beginning hebrew class for adults that would be starting again over the summer, attend services (both weekly and holiday) as much as possible, and engage as much as possible in the community. (I really loved them. I was a soloist in the Purim spiel that year and I had friends and once I’d finished converting and could join the synagogue I’d already been needled to join their tiny choir and it was just a great group of people.)

Aaaand then we had to move due to things outside our control, and I couldn’t attend as often due to being a heck of a drive away (in a car with no A/C, in Florida, in the summer) so I tried to shift over to a closer shul whose rabbi my old rabbi knew, but it was High Holy Days and then he was travelling for some studies and couldn’t start doing anything like conversion until that was all over, and then we had to move again and now we’re here and have a very unfriendly rabbi and congregation, so we don’t attend services right now.

…………all this to say: you’ve done some research and you think you’re interested. Next step is to find the nearest shul that is of the movement you want to convert in, and call or email them and just let the rabbi know where you’re at and ask if you can attend some services respectfully to see if you still feel drawn to Judaism when engaging with it directly. If so, let the rabbi know, set up a meeting, and go from there. It’ll take time, a year at the LEAST and usually longer even if you DON’T have the sort of issues I’m currently having, but if HaShem is calling you home, it’s worth it.

(and if your rabbi requires to you take any classes or what-not, most organizations that run them that require you to pay some kind of fee offer scholarships or reduced tuition if you’re not financially able to enroll in them initially, so be sure to reach out about stuff like that, too.)

#i use ‘calling you home’ specifically bc #one of the books i read talked about how all jewish souls were at sinai at least metaphorically #it’s just some of them weren’t born into jewish families #and that every convert is just a wandering jewish soul coming home #and i really really liked that #talked about it a lot with rabbi T back when things were on track #but that IS what it’s been like from start to finish #it’s felt without reservation like coming home #in a way nothing else in my life ever has #so y’know #jewish stuff #judaism #conversion stuff #sorry that this got so long and rambly #i’ve been having The Feels lately about my stalled conversion #it’s very frustrating and i think I just needed to get it out a bit heh

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deviltoys · 3 years

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IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!

hey, kevin here, i apologize that somethin' of this matter is being posted so late like this and so sudden. i won't be typing as i usually do as the accusations here are a serious matter and there won't be a need for my usual, light-hearted typing style.

it has come to my attention, though this information has been kept private for maybe a month, two? but has only just recently been brought to my attention by a good friend of mine. the claims were sent to him over instagram by my ex; kai or huhrizon. the photo will be attached below in which, kai, is laughing about the fact he believes he's found out that i am a minor. more specifically, fifteen. which couldn't be farther from the truth, this thread will be debunking and defending myself before he can come out and express these fabricated lies to try and ruin my reputation because he's upset that i wasn't ready for a relationship.

kai messaging mattia over the fact he believes he has uncovered 'my mother's facebook profile'. which will be debunked below.

very interesting that you decided to not only, try to uncover things about my identity after i politely explained to you that i no longer wanted to pursue a relationship, but that you're brewing up fake rumours just to try to get back at me for it.

onto the main claim. kai has been professing, that i, am infact a fifteen year old falsifying his age online. the reason he believes these claims are that, one, he found my mother's facebook profile. and two, that there was a photo on there of me, with the caption 'happy birthday kevin' posted onto the account. mattia has explained to me that this photo isn't here to be displayed as evidence, solely because kai sent the picture through instagram's vanish mode.

* this mode automatically deletes anything sent after the chat is closed.

mattia informed me that this photo was overall suspicious though as kai had blurred out the user's facebook handle. very odd indeed kai, very odd. i have no clue what this women looked like as there were no further photos, so until then, i don't know how i can debunk the woman not being my mother; appearance wise.

what reason do i have to believe this is motivated out of spite? before kai and i had become acquainted, i followed him through dylan, who had publicity posted about how his friend had created a dark blog. wanting to follow more creators who shared a similar interest, i followed him. immediately, kai had started sending asks about whether or not i was single. we had not talked nor even messages before, we had liked a few of each others posts and that was the max of our interactions. but i responded with a flirty remark, which i am now known for, but wasn't at the time. flirting was thrown back and fourth and after awhile i had realized i was no longer ready, mentally or emotionally for a relationship at that point in time. i still had full feelings for kai, yet kindly expressed my discomfort with a relationship. which he mutually accepted and that was that. i thought we were ended things on great terms, we both communicated and got our messages out of the way.

apparently this was not the case, as kai, without my knowledge goes to search for any sort of dirt he can find on me. which, i will be using a post by dylan to explain why i have reason to be swayed into the fact this was out of anger— i love dylan, and he's not included in these accusations whatsoever, but this post is important to view. do not drag him into this, please. i'm serious.

dylan admits to kai being able to ruin people's lives for fun. which is obviously, not a good look for him. he purposefully goes on the hunt for any information he can attach to someone. unluckily for him, he couldn't find anything worth exposing, so he restorts to making up lies about my age in an attempt to get some sort of revenge? as punishment for breaking his heart i presume. very, very mature after a breakup which i calmly and kindly let you know that i wasn't ready for anything further.

now, onto the rebuttal i have for his big accusation; me being a fifteen year old who's mother's social, kai sniffed up. my mother does not own any form of social media, she has an email which is technically not even a social app. ( this is used for her grad teachers, in order to contact her for reasons that will be explained ).

my mother hasn't had any social app for years, much less posts or takes photos of us to display whatsoever. my mother entered a relationship with a man, who at the time she didn't know was very, very anti-lgbtq.

* before anything else it's important to note that kai, believes i have a brother. i told him this in order to stray away any true information about me, as there are very few people i fully trust with the knowledge of my personal life. much less, someone who i just met at the time; i.e kai. kai had mentioned a friend of either his or his brothers being named 'hank' to try to also fit the lie of having a brother, i told him it was a funny coincidence that my brother had the same name. i do not have a brother, my sister and i are both trans— she being mtf, and i being ftm. she has given me explicit permission to disclose this, as i wouldn't ever dream of letting that information out without her word.

this leads into my main argument. my mother had been with this man for quite awhile, and had finally asked us for permission to give him the news, that we were both transgender and that he should know for the future of our family. he obviously, did not take this well. to keep details minimal for the safety of my family, i'll briefly explain some of the shit he's done to my mother. stalk, threaten, send unsolicited photos and dead animals to our home, try to get my mother to meet up - or find her location to meet up with her, and many, many more vile things. my family has been hiding, moving, and changing our identities ever since. my mother has wanted a healthy, safe environment for her children to grow up in without fear that their lives would be taken or in some way ruined by this man. we can't keep a house for more than a year before we're forced to go into hiding because of a message from him or some sick prank from somebody who knows about the situation. this is all i can say, as i don't want him to somehow get ahold of this post. which is also why i am withholding my families legal names as well as her ex's legal name just to be cautious. though it is never ever justified to lie to your partner, kai and i had barely talked and i felt pressured by the environment and excitement to rush headfirst into a relationship. causing me to hold back any truth to my personal life, excluding interests, stories, and stuff of that sort. which deserves an apology all on it's own.

now, where this fifteen, number came from. not a clue in hell, my sister, is sixteen but was fifteen at the time i was in a relationship with kai. i have no clue if this has anything to do with it, but he knew, as i told him i was celebrating her birthday through text. letting him know, the age she was and the age she was turning.

i live off the grid and always have. my legal name is not on here, my family or friends names, etc. my personality, all me, the stories or hobbies i have? true. my job? true. i express the true me on here while still holding back information that could cause my family into another year of hiding. my mother never has and never will have any socials. she barely uses her email out of fear, but has no choice as it's her only means of communication to her job.

another quick thing i would like to mention, to be truthful, as this is a post solely based on trust alone. as i have no physical evidence to back it up. i sent a photo to kai, letting him know it was taken when i was in middle school. i told him my mother put a filter over it, which is weird right? i just explained how my mother doesn't have socials, he's got to be lying, right? no, my teacher had taken the photo and she had edited on her photo to show our grandma, who she sent the image through phone messages. this was no lie, but it was a misdirection to try to get kai to believe my mother posted about me. i still didn't trust him and never fully did, so this was another. morally wrong, attempt to cover my true identity by lying to him about it. which, again, never right to lie to your partner. but i have a family to protect, it's hard to make friends and relationships online when you have to hide who you truly are your whole life. and i'm sorry that's been the case, though the information my mutuals privately know is all the truth. i've grown to trust a fair few, so thank you.

as a summary, these claims are total bullshit. i can provide more context or answers to any questions you may have, below, through dms, or through my inbox. this was once again posted before he could get his word out, as i wanted to make sure everyone knew what i had to say, in case he decided to 'expose' me while i was at work, or too busy to compile a rebuttal. thank you all for listening, you don't have to believe a word of this. as yes, my story does sound far-fetched but i have no way that i can verify it without putting my family in danger. which, i'd much rather lose my online status over a silly rumour than harm my family for another multitude of years. this is a rather short and rushed post though, as it's been bugging me for awhile and i just need to push it out.

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whatiwillsay · 3 years

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submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB’s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me. but i am very emotional right now. i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience. ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support. have you been financially impacted by this? we can raise money. do you need therapy? we can help you find the support you need. this community is unequivocally here for you. whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will. you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this. i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened. this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do. this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.

#submission #tw: abuse #tw: homophobia

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