What would be Nightcloud’s name if she was leader? Since we have Nightstar, and we have Cloudstar,
StarClan would think of a good one for her, if she didn't have one in mind.
I feel like she'd want to call herself Sowstar. Hogs are the largest, strongest, most DANGEROUS animal in the 5 Clans. A boar might be dangerous on his own, but a sow fights with TWICE the strength to protect her little humbugs.
And I think that's the sort of name she would want to wear. She's proud of her strength, and is now finally realizing she can be proud of her commitment too. And even a sow, just for defending its babies, they can be hated and maligned by Clan cats.
She'd feel a connection to sows that would be a great honor to bear in a name.
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Now that I have a writing blog as well as a lurking blog I can finally showcase my appreciation to my favourite authors who inspired me to start writing.
This is a gift for @ceilidho because I am ready to commit arson for you <3.
Ikea!Soap/Creepy Coworker!Soap IS @ceilidho ‘s IDEA! FULL CREDIT TO HER IT IS SO FANTASTIC I WILL EAT MY SCREEN. There is so much juicy content on her blog iswtg I will combust. Adults go check it out you will not regret it!
- This is alternate AU where the Christmas party doesn’t happen, instead its New Years being celebrated. (We don’t celebrate Christmas here but New Years is a really big thing)
Not proof read.
1.1k words
TW Non-Consensual Contact | TW 18+ | TW Near Panic Attack
So anyways hehe on the theme of gift giving.
Shivers slowly trot down your spine, you feel a leaden punty of panic manifest itself in your diaphragm as you sweat cold like condensed metal. There’s eyes on you, there are always eyes on you. An unforgettable gelid pair of blue ponds surrounding a pinprick pupil that track you everywhere you go.
One would think you’d be used to Johnny’s attention by now, both kind and unkind. But recently he’s been acting especially unsettling. These past few days he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t help you throw out the trash, he just stares… and grins, his breathing heavy.
It started a few weeks ago, when you decided to work overtime to later take a little break and greet the New Years away from work, in the comfort of you own apartment. No one except management should have known of your plans, but of course nothing is confidential for their sweet golden boy. Soap sniffed out your shift change so fast you’d wondered if he had a past with drug abuse, as it was his arms that suffocated you on your second evening shift.
Stacking boxes your soul flinched out of your body when two limbs wrapped around your torso like snares on a hare’s neck. Even through the multiple layers of cloth you could feel the heat of his forearms on your abdomen, molten rock flowing through his veins keeping his muscles taught. His chest pinned yours against the steel frame of the fifteen meter shelving unit but the grip of his arms remained, forcing you into an awkward arching position as he curved himself over your back.
“Hey bonnie!”
The Scotts cheery voice all but lashed through the echoey establishment, like the crack of a whip. It’s dark, cold and wet outside, snow turning into slag tainting everything from cars to shoes, much like Johnny’s doing to you; ironic considering his callsign. But there’s practically no customers in conditions like these, meaning your coworkers wouldn’t need to come to the back to look for something, meaning your trapped in here, alone, with a man at least twice your size.
You don’t say anything back, still reeling from having your quiet, meditative moment interrupted by what feels like a hydraulic press. But there’s a soft yet hard object pressing to your front? You look down to see what it is but your own chest is smack dab against the shelving unit blocking your view. Your hips are arched away from it allowing him to adjust something? Is he measuring your torso? What’s happening ?
There’s too many things going on, heavy breathing in your ear, the heat against your back and the frigid metal against your front. One of his hands is moving something along your abdomen, another feels up your womb area and then your crotch? You yelp at that and are about to scream but he shoves you against the steel harder, and knocks the breath out of your chest, but his hand doesn’t go any further.
“Shh, shh, sorry pretty, just makin’ some introductions dinnae worry yer wee head about it”.
A clack resonates through the space, and less than half a meter away you can see a black marker cap rolling away on the floor. What the actual fuck is happening. He feels you up some more, then his hand moves back and forth horizontally as if to mark something and just like that he lets you go.
The situation lasted 3 minutes tops and yet now you know what sharks feel like when they’re pulled out the water, microchipped and thrown back in. You turn around and Soap’s got his back to you he’s kneeling down to pick up the marker cap, there’s something in his hand but its wrapped in white cloth. He closes the marker and rotates a little just to face you.
“Hope you’ve liked meeting your namesake, lass. I know she was honoured for sure!” He leaves then, laughing lightly to himself, flushed and giddy. Your namesake? Did he mean the-
It’s finally time for your much needed break from work, and certain blue eyed men with separation anxiety. At the end of your shift you carefully quick walk to your car before a hand on your shoulder stops you. Speak of the devil.
“Wey bonnie, why are ye in such a hurry to leave huh?”
You’re surprised he actually talked to you after weeks of silence, but you’re also exhausted.
“Soap, what do you need I-,”
He stops you mid sentence by thrusting a sizeable wrapped box into your hands, a charming, large blue bow sitting at the top, as if preening.
“I know yer takin’ days off, but I bought a lil somethin’ for ya. Hope you enjoy it, I really do.”
Well thats actually sweet of him. Granted you don’t know what’s actually in the box. But its still nice that he cared enough to give it to you!
He sends you off with a tight hug and a smirk; gleaming snarl in the night.
Back at your apartment you’re so hungry that you forget about his sincerity for a while. Before the reflection of the bow in your mirror catches your eye, you don’t have a lot of blue in your apartment and this one’s the same shade as his eyes.
A little excited you unwrap the box and lift up the lid only to freeze appalled when your greeted by a dick. It’s a dick, a cock in a box, Soap has gifted you a dildo. Yeah he’s mentioned you being irritated in the past, how a “good shag’ll put ye right in yer place,” but what the fuck.
Come to think of it, it’s strangely realistic: with veins and even moles. The heads a light pink and the base…looks like his skin colour.
Weeks ago, Soap was about a hair’s length away from having an aneurism when he looked at the fleshlight in his hands. A black line marking its plastic flesh, from his feeling up he reckoned that’s about where your womb should be. Quite clearly you wouldn’t be able to take all of him but he reckoned that’s nothing a little practice couldn’t fix. And hey, since he had a version of you to greet New Year’s with, why doesn’t he gift you a version of him that you can cherish too <3.
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