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#if this needs a trigger warning or something let me know
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the girl next door 29
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You peel off the suit and wring it out. You leave it in the bathroom to dry, but more so you don't need to look at it. You've never been so humiliated in all your life. 
Worse than your mother's bitter grumbles, or the way your grandmother used to nitpick at every part of you was that look in Steve's eyes. It was like nothing you've ever seen before. Not angry, not judging, but something mysterious that unsettled you. 
Ugh. You sneer at the wall as you pull on the baggiest tee shirt you have. You hate yourself. No, you hate your body. No matter what you do, it's clumsy and somehow you get in the way of yourself. 
You shimmy into a pair of pajama shorts and flop onto your bed. You could read but your head won't let you focus. Drawing isn't an option either, you're still shaking from the exposure. 
Sleep. Well, that won't come. Every time you close your eyes, you just see Steve and the water, and your nakedness. You can't imagine what your mother would've said if she'd saw. 
She hadn't, had she? 
You roll over and hide your head under your arm. You just lay there, desperate to escape somehow. The hours wear on, the day shifting around your unmoving form, the stagnant house dampening your skin with sweat.  
When you finally get the strength to flip onto your back, you realise you've been crying. You sniffle and mop your cheeks. You don't know why you're crying. Humiliation, sure, but don't be such a baby. 
You sit up cradle your head until it's a little less fragile. You get to your feet and shuffle out to use the bathroom. You pointedly ignore the pink checkered fabric. 
When you're done, you go to the kitchen. You look in the fridge. Not much there. You take out an old cup of pudding and fish out a spoon. You sit at the table and stir it but don't eat.  
You remember when you were a kid, your grandma would give you tapioca. Your mother only ever got banana. You hate banana pudding. It tastes so artificial. 
You're not a kid anymore. You're realising that now. It's time to be an adult. You don't have a place here anymore. Your mom has Steve and you have... nothing. 
The front door whines on its ungreased hinges. You wince and look up, shove a spoonful into your mouth. 
Steve appears. He has a tee on but still wears his swim shorts. You look at him dully and swallow, scooping up more of the pudding. 
"You hungry? You could have come over for lunch." 
You shrug and keep eating. Your stomach sickens at the overly sweet treat. You want to spit it out. 
"You're still mad?" He asks. 
You shrug again. 
He sighs. He crosses the room and pulls out the chair across from you, "look, sweetie," he twines his fingers through each other as he rests his arms on the table, "I'm real sorry. I was trying to have some fun. I made a mistake. We all do, right?" 
You stare at the table and nod. 
"Right, so can we move past it? Forget it ever happened?" 
"Forget?" You echo in a croak. "Erm." 
"Wiped clean," he unweaves his fingers and makes a smooth motion over the table top. "How about it? Can you forgive me?" 
You let the spoon go and slide the cup aside. You can't look up. It's more than the embarrassment of what happened. It's the constant shame that follows you around. You're just a hanger-on. He doesn't have to keep pretending because of your mom. She deserves to have a life after all the years she wasted on you. A life without you. 
"I'm sorry. I'm... I'm going to find a job and I'll do my best and..." you ramble as you trace your fingers on the table and tilt your head back and forth, "and you won't have to worry about me." 
"Sweetie?" He reaches over to still your hand, "what are you talking about?" 
"I shouldn't be... I shouldn't be living with you. Or mom. You two... I'm in the way--" 
"In the way? Sweetie," he squeezes your hand, "I promise you that's not true." 
"It has to be." 
"Why? Why does that have to be true?" 
"Because no one wants me," you turn your face down but he won't let go of your hand so you can hide. 
"I know that's not true," he insists.  
"It is. You see it. My mom..." you shudder and hold back a sob, "hates me." 
He's quiet. He clings to you even as you try to pull free. "I don't hate you." 
"You barely know me." 
"Sweetie, I know enough. Just enough to know you're a sweet girl. A good girl. All this time you've been taking care of your mom. Not anyone does that, you know? Most people would just leave her behind," he brings his other hand up to pet your knuckles, "and you're considerate and kind and gentle." 
"Please," you wisp and tug on your hand again, "you don't have to--" 
"I want you," he interjects as he tightens his grip, "sweetie, look at me." 
Your eyes flick up, startled by his hold and his tone. 
"You said no one wants you? I do. I shouldn't. I know it. I... I saw the way you take care of Holly, I saw how hard you try, I saw it all and I--" 
He finally lets you go. You recoil, shocked. Your hand tingles and your heart races. He doesn't mean it like that. He can't. You blink and lean back, making yourself as small as you can. 
"I'm sorry," he drops his head into his hands, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm trying not to feel like this. I've been fighting myself but..." he looks up, fingers stretched up his cheeks as his eyes glimmer, "I... don't love your mom. I only married her so... so..." he closes his eyes and trembles, "I shouldn't say it." His lashes flick open and he sits up straight, "so I could take care of you. That's why. But I couldn't... be honest. Because I didn't want to scare you or lose you. Just having you close is enough so I lied." He sniffs and a tear rolls out, "worse, I couldn't even be honest with myself. Not until now. Until it's too late." 
You gape at him. He just watches you. His expression is pained and sheepish.  
"Please, sweetie, say something." 
"You can't mean it," you breathe, "please take it back." 
"I can't," he utters. 
You sit in silence. You don't know what to say. You can't think. It's all too much. Why can't today just be over? 
He inhales and lets it out as he fixes his posture. He gulps thickly and you look up. He stares at you. The same look as before. The one you don't understand. 
"Sweetie," his voice is firmer and his tears are evaporated, "I have one question." You lower your brow, confused, "do you want your mom to be taken care of?" 
"What?" You squeak. 
"Your mom? You want her to be comfortable? Supported? Get the proper treatment?" He's staunch as he speaks, "you can't do it yourself. We both know you were struggling. Do you got the money for her next hospital stay? For the nurse?" 
You whimper and shake your head, "what do you mean?" 
"Sweetie, your mom needs me. You need me. Don't play dumb," he intones, "I will do anything. I will make sure mom is nice and cozy. She has her meds and everything she needs. There's only one thing I want in return." He clicks his tongue and inclines his head, "it's too bad it's the only thing you got." 
You stare at him. Through him. The whole world narrows in on you as your chest caves in. You close your eyes, wishing against everything, that it can make him go away. 
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ghoulsbounty · 12 hours
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hi i heavily request something where the reader and the ghoul(cooper) are travelling together and it’s night time, they’re outside trying to get some sleep. the reader is sleeping beside cooper but they get cold and they subconsciously move towards him and grab him, laying on his chest. HOW WOULD HE REACT? 🫶
Until Tomorrow
Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Bounty!Reader 
Warnings: sliiiiight mentions of smut (18+), alluding to masturbation, a bit of angst, mentions of canon-typical violence/torture, control, small mention of barb if you squint, mention of sex work (not reader), Cooper is mean.
Word Count: 1.2K
A/N: This is just a little ficlet that I've left open ended in case anyone would like a part two. I didn't want to go full-guns blazing into a smut fic since you didn't specify, but I am more than willing to do so, Anon 🫡 I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌
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"What are you up to?" the Ghoul's voice pierced the eerie night, sharp and accusing. The darkness shrouded the makeshift camp, the bitter wind cutting through with relentless force. His eyes narrowed as he watched you approach, tension thick between you.
You dropped to your knees, wrists sore from the tight bindings he had reluctantly removed. The sand greeted you with a thud as you settled beside him, maintaining a cautious distance. You needed warmth, but you couldn't get complacent with your captor.
"It's freezing," you stated matter-of-factly, shifting against the sand to carve out a somewhat comfortable spot, however impossible. "You let the fire die."
The Ghoul glanced towards the extinguished campfire, a thin wisp of smoke rising lazily into the frigid night sky. The remnants of charred wood and ash lay scattered around it, the faint scent clinging to his clothes as he reclined against the dunes.
"I can start it up again," he offered, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "If you fancy being deathclaw chow."
Your gaze widened as you glanced into the expanding darkness, the absence of the fire amplifying the encroaching shadows. Terrifying howls and snarls reverberated from the depths, prompting a chilling question: were the creatures lurking out there truly more fearsome than the man holding you captive? The notion of a swift demise by claws and teeth seemed almost preferable to the prolonged torment of captivity. While the Ghoul might not be the one to end your life, delivering you to the cartel as he had pledged would render him just as culpable. In that sense, he might as well be the one to pull the trigger himself.
After your first escape attempt, the Ghoul's demeanour turned even harsher, though the dehydration was a greater torture than any physical aggression. He justified his restraint, explaining that he refrained from inflicting worse harm only because you were required in perfect condition, and he took pride in fulfilling his bounties meticulously. However, his rationale did little to mitigate his rough treatment. To him, a few small bruises and the sting of restraints were acceptable, especially considering your spirited defiance.
But in the span of a few weeks, that defiance began to wane, and resignation crept in. You felt like a sacrificial lamb, resigned to its fate, being led to the inevitable slaughter.
"I'll take that as a no," he remarked, snapping you out of your reverie as he shifted beside you. Even he seemed affected by the cold, evident from how he huddled in his duster, arms crossed tightly over his chest in an attempt to retain warmth. You couldn't help but envy his layers, wishing for more of your own as you wrapped you arms around your torso. 
You maintained silence, willing yourself to sleep as you turned away from him. Any further interaction felt uncomfortably intimate.
Cooper listened to the sound of your ragged breaths battling against the cold, your body trembling beside him. The wind was particularly brutal, the kind he would normally seek refuge from in an abandoned building. However, your sluggish pace throughout the day had resulted in him setting up camp in the exposed wasteland, devoid of shelter or respite from the elements. Your punishment, he had said, for dragging your feet.
He could endure it; he had endured it countless times before and would do so again. But for you, he wasn't so sure. Despite your initial bite, you had turned into a meek little thing in the palm of his hand. A small, niggling part of him wondered if he had been too harsh, but survival instincts dictated otherwise. When an animal showed its teeth, you put it down—figuratively speaking, of course, he couldn't risk losing his bounty caps. 
This new approach seemed to have worked with you, perhaps a bit too well.
As you shifted beside him, turning to face him with closed eyes, Cooper felt like prey ensnared in the hunter's grasp, awaiting the next move. An uneasy panic gripped him at the sudden feeling of helplessness, but he willed his breath to steady. You released a deep sigh as you pressed your body against his side, and he stiffened at the unexpected closeness. Your arm draped across his abdomen, and a leg hitched and hooked around his thigh.
Cooper was nearly ready to question your apparent lack of brains when he noticed your breathing, deep and steady. His words died in his throat as he felt your arm tighten around him, drawing him closer to you like an anchor. It wasn't a conscious decision to seek him out; rather, a subconscious response to the biting cold, he reasoned. Yet, it did little to ease his discomfort as the warmth from your thighs spread over him, seeping into his core and igniting a sensation he hadn't yet entertained with you.
He found himself mesmerized, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, his gaze drifting to your parted lips as you released another sigh. Your nose pressed against his shoulder, and he could swear he felt the warmth of your breath through the layers of fabric, igniting the burnt skin beneath.
This wasn't real, not to you, and certainly not to him. By morning, he would carefully remove himself from your embrace, restoring the intended distance your unconscious mind had breached. You would remain oblivious, and only Cooper would bear the weight of knowing how his muscles longed to reach out to you, to touch you without the shadows of anger and conflict looming over them. He cursed the memory from a distant life that surfaced in his mind—a loving touch beneath soft sheets, a foolish adoration for a lover turned stranger.
His fingers twitched, restrained by the firm crossing of his arms over his chest. If he could just maintain this position, he could endure the night. If he could ignore the sensation of your leg tightening around his thigh, your knee brushing against his growing arousal, he could make it through. He chastised himself inwardly for his weakness. He should push you away, keep you bound and isolated from him, be indifferent to whatever dangers might befall you because it would have been your own fault. But Cooper needed those caps. If he could just survive the remainder of this journey with you and keep his sanity intact, he promised himself a visit to the next inn, where he could seek solace in the comforting touch of those who were more than willing to accept a ghoul's money.
Still, he didn't expect anything to compare to the softness of your breasts pressed against his side. Something snapped within him at the sensation, a jolt of electricity coursing through his body. The wild thought crossed his mind that perhaps you were warming to him, not just seeking warmth for yourself. He had broken you, after all, hadn't he? Or at least, he was on his way to doing so. He couldn't help but wonder: if he woke you, would you pull away or press yourself closer?
A foolish thought, but one that haunted him nonetheless.
He lay in silence, listening to the rhythm of your breath as he stared up at the stars. Waking you wasn't an option; he wouldn't risk the inevitable panic and distress of you finding yourself half-straddling the monster who had stolen your freedom. He would let you sleep, indulging in the fantasy that you felt something other than contempt for him as he waited for the sun to rise. Until then, he justified to himself as his hand slipped from its restraint under his arm and found the buckle of his belt, it would be a shame for a solitary man not to indulge.
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v3nusxsky · 1 day
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Hello! 👋🏻 I would love a little smutty Larissa x Morticia x Reader oneshot if I'm the first ask. Please and thank you 😊
Can we keep her? 18+
*Authors note~ I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in a while placement has been hectic with so many assessments needing to be done for me to pass the year which ends in two weeks! But have this little brain child*
Trigger warnings ~ established relationship Mortica x reader, mommy dom! Mortica, sub r, sub leaning switch!Larissa, talks of past Tish x Larissa, oral fixation (r), thigh riding (L-M), praise kink, degrading kink, oral sex, fingering, sensory play?, blindfolds, overstimulation kink, mirror sex, aftercare obvs
Prompt^^^
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Being Nevermore’s Literature professor was in all honesty a dream come true. Ever since your time as a student in the school you’d wished to end up here. And that you did. Larissa couldn’t wait to offer you a position after being your last placement before you qualified. The skills you possess are honestly some of the best she has seen and therefore makes you an asset to her staff.
But if you know Nevermore, which you do, it always provides the unexpected. The youngest member of staff just so happened to unknowingly gain the interest of a certain raven haired beauty. Morticia Addams. But it was not the only time you’d been on her mind, no, when you were studying you often ended up shadowing her class as Larissa felt you needed to be well rounded in classroom management. Your nature making you quiet and reserved and a little afraid to assume your natural authority over the class. Which is why Mortica was perfect for you.
Thinking back to how it all started out with you and your girlfriend always brings a smile to your face. When things got tough she was always there, rain or shine to support you. Also you’d be utterly insane to not notice her radiant beauty she so effortlessly wears. Everything about her was perfect. Beautiful skin like the pale moons reflection on the lake. Raven hair as dark as night, perfectly straight and never out of place. Dresses that hugged her body as if they were her skin. And the height that woman has often brings you to your knees. Truly, she’s magnificent. So of course it was only natural to see her celestial being in your dreams.
You knew of her psychic abilities and she knew that you process the ability of mental projection. Now you have a higher ability than most would assume which allows you to project thoughts feelings, create alternative worlds with your imagination and even switch realities. Mostly, you enjoyed your ability and the fact you could use it to help others, but you’d never would’ve thought that your own mind would let out your secret desire.
You’d been utterly exhausted the whole day which resulted in your head snuggled into the woman’s neck as she read a French book out loud to soothe you to sleep. And like always the smooth silky voice and the steady thumps of the heart bellow you worked like a charm. Only to send you into the spiciest dream you’ve ever had.
“Mommy” you whined pitifully as you squirmed under Larissa’s gaze. The blonde seemingly confident as she towered over you, not even throwing her past crush a glance. “She is a pretty thing Tish, I could do so much with her” the shifter murmured thoughtfully, clearly talking about you and not to you as she ignored your desperate state.
“Ah, mon amour, you aren’t in control here are you darling?” Your lover reminded the principal, clearly stating that she is in control of both you and the blonde. “Will you be good for me sweet girl?” She practically coed at the older woman while actively ignoring you. “Yes mommy” came the mumbled response, her shyness soaking the words. “Oh my dear Rissa, we both know you aren’t shy in this department darling” came her chuckled teasing words. You’d know there was something with them in the past, but purposely not spoken about until this interaction.
It was then that you became overwhelmed with your thoughts of the two women together in the most intimate and inexperienced ways that your grip of control faltered and everyone in the room was blessed with the image of Larissa Weems in her youth, riding your Tish’s milky thigh in a frantic rhythm. “Oh! You’re so good Rissa, keep going for mommy, I want to feel you cum for me darling” she would murmured into the blondes ear before taking it between her teeth and tugging gently.
Unbeknownst to your slumbering self you’d given your girlfriend the opportunity to hopefully bring her first crush and lover to the bedroom without fear of upsetting you. Seeing the sexual dream that had caused you to entangle your legs to hers, effectively pressing your now dripping warmth to her leg was enough reassurance. All she needed now was the principal to agree.
To say Larissa was expecting the potion teacher to barge into her office with such a personal invitation during school hours would have been insanity, but then again the Addams family love to make keep her on her toes. Truthfully, Principal Weems kept her ex lover former crush on the staff for many reasons. Her teaching for one, to be close to her for another, and the third being those pesky lingering feelings that never left once she left the gates of Nevermore with Gomez. One swift divorce had her back where she belongs it still not hers. No. Because she wanted you.
Meetings with the principal after hours were not uncommon for you as a first year qualified teacher however, seeing Tish sat on her desk as their lips fused together like a centuries old dance was definitely a first. Not that you were complaining at all. In fact, you decided to let them feel the affect they have on you, causing Larissa to let out a whimper of need. “Patience sweetheart, this isn’t about us yet” Morticia reprimanded as she pulled herself away from the shifters body. “Would you care to join us sweet girl? I know just how much you enjoyed your dream the other night, and mommy wants to give that to you baby.”
That’s how you found yourself reliving your first part of your dream, word for word squirming on the sofa by the warm fire. Two pairs of eyes drinking in your now semi naked form. “Much better sweet girl you’re so pretty for mommy baby” your girlfriend praised before swiftly moving to grab the blindfold she’d stashed away before your arrival. From there you were promptly ignored by the older women as Mortica claimed her dominant stance causing Larissa to slip into a happy medium, content to please everyone.
Slender fingers trailed your exposed abdomen ever so lightly that it may as well have been a ghost. A phantom feeling only to be chased away with a rougher texture on your plush thighs. “Mm” you purred happily, Morticia always knew just what you craved without you needing to say it. So there was no surprise when she instructed Larissa to fetch a cold water bottle and roll it over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. “C-cold mommy” you whimpered with an adorable pout on your luscious lips. “Oh my poor baby” the faux sympathy rolling off her words in waves. Soon enough there was a soft tassle being dragged all over your body like a snake looking for its prey as it slithers over your bra clad chest.
Soon enough both women grew tired of their little game, deciding that you were all simply too clothed for the occasion. Tish instructed you to try and undress her while your vision was not present but you ended up reaching for Weems instead. A quick tut of disapproval soon had you swivelling around to please her only to lose your balance. “Such a silly baby, can’t even undress me. Well Larissa will have to do it seems I know she can be a good girl for me.”
Only when Larissa freed the older woman from her garments did she get permission to strip down herself while Morticia ripped the skimpy lace off your body. “Please can I play with her Mommy?” Larissa mumbled completely star struck by your bare body. With a wave of the other woman’s hand Larissa immediately yanked you onto your hands and knees and settled under your body. Mortica coming to sit on the arm rest and spreading her legs for you to be eye to eye with her aching core. “Get to work little slut, be good for me baby.”
You immediately delve into her awaiting cunt, blindly missing your target by an inch causing your lover to grab a fist fall of hair to guide you, all while Larissa happily began to kiss and lick your pillowy thighs before eating you out like a starved woman. Soon enough the office was filled with the sweetest moans where French and English words blended together in the height of her enjoyment. Larissa simply moaning shamelessly into your soaked pussy causing you to mirror her with the raven haired woman’s clit pulsing between your lips. “Oh fuck baby! Right there pretty whore. Best whore for mommy” her praise only spurring on your determination to please her. Only when you decide to plunge two fingers into her greedy core did she cum as you happily lapped up your reward before tumbling over the edge yourself.
“Oh sweet girl your blindfolds all wet.” She mock gasped before ripping it off your head to examine it. “Messy whore” was offered by the blonde whose mouth was coated in your arousal and cum. All while you were blinking rapidly trying to maintain your position not wanting to disappoint them. Inevitability your shaking legs failed you causing you to collapse against the sofa earning a time out.
That’s how you found yourself sat on the floor, let’s spread wide, hands behind your back as you watched Tish bring Larissa over the edge time after time, lavishing her on sweet praise with ever orgasm, while you sat untouched and ignored. Every little needy sound that slipped past your lips bought the blonde another high. Every time you moved from your position brought your girlfriend a chance to feel the bliss while you sat there watching another woman have her screaming and crying out with pure pleasure. On one hand you were jealous as sin on the other it was hot as hell and what a spectacular show to be blessed with. Perhaps that’s why you behaved.
Tish had simply lost count of how many times she’d rode the waves of pleasure, simply forgetting how good Larissa is in the department before she had some experience. However, she’s not as young as she was back then and her body simply requires a break which is why Larissa gets you resting against your mommy’s front, legs spread as she instructs you to keep your gaze on the ceiling. Fuck. Mirrors. Everywhere, you realised. “Gonna make you watch how much of a filthy slut you look like as you fall apart for another woman” she stated before setting to work in trailing her fingers through your slick. “So fucking messy sweet girl, eyes on the ceiling or I’ll make mommy hold your head that way” the blonde threatens before unleashing a whole new burst of energy on your pleading core.
“Tish, the whore won’t look” Larissa grumbled noticing how your head had dropped to the side after the second orgasm. “Mommy, too much” you slurred letting out a little squeal when Larissa touched your oversensitive clit. “One more sweet girl, mommys right here, one more baby you can take it. Look how pretty my girl looks.” Her praise combined with the principals three fingers curling just right to hit the perfect spot had you seeing stars and drenching the sofa below you all. It was only after working you down from the high did you let out a sob of “no more” over and over.
Larissa hurrying to find the pre set out aftercare things while morticia hummed a French lullaby, your favourite when this deep into sub space. Your eyes filed with a haze as you immediately began to root around for more skin to skin contact. When Larissa returned with water and sugary treat you seemed to far down which worried her. Yet Tish seemed to know just what to do. After sipping her water and encouraging you to do the same with the support from both women you settled in between them both. Completely submerged into your subby mindset you gently grabbed Larissa’s hand and brought her fingers to your lips before ever so lightly drawing them between your lips. Immediately a content sigh left your body as you snuggled more into your mommy muttering around the slender fingers, “mm we keeps her?” Without knowing Morticia already planned on it.
Word count ~ 2161
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was wondering if you could write something (whether a one-shot or a multiple chapters if you feel inspired) about a hotchniss affair where hotch is still married but his marriage isn’t like falling apart like it is most of the other fics with this plot. emily’s dirty self likes that he’s married and is fine with it being a casual arrangement. dom hotch and the usual angsty kinky nonsense.
A/N: Hi everyone! Another Hotchniss multi-chapter fic is coming your way based on asks from Tumblr. I would also like to add, that I do NOT condone cheating, I’m a firm believer that if you’re going to cheat then just break up. But with that said, I got this request and I ran with it, because I immediately got a multi chapter story idea. (And for some reason I excuse these two cheating because they’re meant to be.) I also am very aware that cheating isn’t everyone’s thing so please don’t read this if it triggers you, but to those of you who might, please let me know what you think because I need to know if I should continue this or not. Happy reading!
Title: Love like mine (1/11) Chapter title: Sugar on my lips, all it takes is one hit Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,4k Rating: Explicit   Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, dirty talk, fingering, cheating
Aaron was never the type of man who had affairs, was never the type of man who saw the appeal of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice beautiful women, it wasn’t that he hadn’t had numerous opportunities to be unfaithful, but it wasn’t him.
Until her.
She walks into his office at a time when he’s feeling out of control in his life and the attraction was instant. Her dark eyes and a smile that held a secret in it, the way her hand squeezed his as she greeted him something that was practiced to perfection. She radiated confidence, until he turned her away. That’s when he saw it, the flash of determination and he knew the woman before him was unlike most others he’d known.
He’s proven right when she’s waiting for him as he gets back from a case days later and when he agrees for her to stay he can see that same look of determination in her eyes.
When he drove home that night, he couldn’t stop thinking her, that should have been his first warning.
Emily never imagined herself lusting after a married man, had never thought of herself as a cheater or someone’s mistress. But the first time she shakes his hand she couldn’t shake the feeling of want, something primal, something she hadn’t experienced before. Even as a gold band gleamed back at her from the way his hand rested at his side, she wanted him. She should care more that he’s married, she knows she should, but for some reason she doesn’t.
Instead it only makes her want him more.
He was something forbidden, something off limits in more ways than one. It doesn’t help that he’s blatantly dismissing her in the beginning, because to her it only makes him more of a challenge. She knew she was smart and capable, knew she was an asset to the team and when she proves herself time and time again, she can feel his eyes on her. He looks at her with some type of fascination, like she’s some kind of enigma he wants to figure out.
And she had no problem letting him.
It’s been a few months of working together when she touches him with purpose for the first time, her fingers ghosting over the top of his hand as she’s handing him the file in her hand. He notices, an eyebrow raising in question and she doesn’t look away, only lets the corner of her mouth lift into a wry kind of smile.
“Have a good night, Hotch.” 
“You too.” He says, voice low and raspy and Emily imagines what he would sound as she wrenched pleasure from his body.
Aaron watches her leave his office with a deep ache in his gut, desire and guilt twisting together as he does. It’s a feeling he’s grown used to, because his attraction towards his subordinate was unmistakable. But he wasn’t a cheater, he reminded himself.
The second time she lets herself touch him, he’s helping her practice for her firearms exam. She didn’t really need the help, she was an excellent shot, but he had offered and she didn’t turn him away. He’s correcting her stance, helps her square her shoulders and she’s sure his hands are warm enough to burn through her shirt. It makes her want to squeeze her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure between her legs.
“Are you ready?” He asks over her shoulder and she’s sure he doesn’t need to stand as close to her as he does. It makes her shiver, his proximity making her mind hazy.
She refocuses on the gun in her hand and fires, hits the target dead center and as she turns her head back to look at him, she moves her hips back just enough to press quickly against his.
It's just a second, but it’s enough and Aaron backs away without a word. But she doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on her body as she turns back to fire again.
They don’t talk about it, the attraction that only seems to get worse between them, even after longing stares and innuendos hidden in conversations.
The third time there’s no mistaking what she’s doing. It’s reckless, some would even call it stupid. They’re out at a bar, all of them except Jason, and she’s spent the night talking to Haley, his wife, and still she goes after him as he excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
She shouldn’t, but she doesn’t care. She hadn’t cared from the start and with alcohol in her system it seemed liked the last of her resolve had faded. He doesn’t expect it, so it’s easy for her to push him into a dark corner, away from the team, away from Haley.
“What are you doing Prentiss?” He huffs as he looks around them for anybody they know.
“Do you love her?” She asks, one hand pressed against his chest and her breath against his face.
“I do.” He answers and for some reason it makes her lip curl into a smile and she leans into his body, lets his feel her chest against his and her lips against his ear.
“That’s too bad.” She whispers and he closes his eyes tight in a vein attempt to ignore the pull of arousal in his groin. When he opens them again, she’s gone, already heading back towards the table they had been sitting at.
And he knows he’s screwed.
They’re called away that same night, and it’s a case that will haunt all of them for a long time. After the case is closed and they’ve all landed back in DC, he can’t go home. He’s too wound up, too angry, too much of everything he can’t bring home to his wife. He’s feeling out of control again, a feeling he cannot stand.
It doesn’t surprise him that he ends up sitting in his car outside of her apartment building. It’s been months leading up to this moment, months of barely concealed want toward the brunette with dark eyes and a smile hiding a secret. He debates with himself for minutes, counts every reason why he shouldn’t go into that building, and yet, his body seems to have a mind of its own. Somehow this feels like he’s taking some control back.
He leans against her doorframe after he’s knocked, knows that to anybody else he probably looks imposing as he stands there. But not to her.
She opens the door with a look of understanding, something close to smug as she mimics his stand and leans against the frame too.
“It’s late.” She says and the way the brown eyes gleam with satisfaction causes the familiar stirring in his abdomen.
“I know.” He pushes past her into the apartment and takes his coat off without prompting. “I couldn’t go home.” When he turns to look at her again, she has closed the door and is leaning against it.
“Let me guess, you had a fight with your wife and you came here?” She studies him as he takes two long steps towards her, crowding her space as he stands too close.
“No, I didn’t have a fight with my wife but it didn’t stop me from coming here anyways.” The way his voice has dropped low makes heat flare in her belly, because she knew she was about to get everything she had wanted since that first day in his office. He’s staring down at her, towering over her without her heels. His pupils are dilated, lips parted and when he licks his bottom lip she wants to tug that same lip between her teeth.
“Why?” She whispers and suddenly his hands are on her hips, pushing her harder against the door as she gasps.
“You know why.” He lets his lips ghost against hers as he keeps her pinned against the door. “Should I leave?”
“Probably.” She lets out a breathy, humorless chuckle as her hand comes to rest on the back of his neck, her fingers gripping the short hair there. “But you don’t want to.”
“Let me get two things straight.” He moves his hands from her hips and grips her wrists tightly. When she willingly follows his movements as he pins them above her head, he smiles at the rush it gives him. “One, if we do this, I’m the one in charge.” She sucks in a breath and Aaron feels another rush of arousal tingle down his spine as she nods. “And two, I’m not leaving Haley, do not expect me to.”
“You think I believe in fairytales and happy endings?” She snickers but his hands tighten around her wrists. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret.”
It’s another second of his eyes staring into hers, another second of deliberation. But the line is already crossed, even if he walks away he knows he’ll end up right back where they are. Because he wanted this, wanted her.
When he kisses her, he hears the soft mewl coming from her and he presses even closer to her. His tongue pries her lips apart and she succumbs to him almost too easily. But then he feels the way she bites down on his bottom lip, hard, and he pulls back with a hiss.
The smirk on her lips matches the filthy look in her eye when he looks down at her again and even if he wasn’t already sure about this, the way she was looking right then would be his undoing. She’s still pinned against the door, her cheeks are the softest shade of pink, her breathing already ragged and he bites back groan.
“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?” Her voice is thick with arousal when she speaks, her words falling in soft puffs against his cheek as she does. “Didn’t think you’d be so passive.” The way he all put crashes his lips against hers makes her entire body heat up.
“So you like pushing buttons outside of the office too I see.” He mumbled against her mouth as he lets go of her wrists, only to pull her flush against him. “Where’s the bedroom?”
Their clothes fall in messy piles as they move towards her bedroom, hands are searching, lips are tasting, and by the time they’re upstairs Emily is completely naked and reaching for his boxers. He lets her push them down, but as she makes a move to kneel on the floor, his fingers tightens around her waist and he pushes her down on the bed. His eyes rake over the pale skin and soft curves, catches the metallic gleam in the soft lights and realizes that her nipples are pierced. He groans at the sight, takes in rosy nipples and the flush that’s spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. She was just as beautiful as he had imagined.
“What are you waiting for?” She breathes as she moves further up on the bed and to her satisfaction he follows her with a look close to wild, barely restrained want reflecting back at her.
“You’re very impatient.” He mumbles against her ear, one hand moving between them to hike her leg up. She’s more flexible than he thought. “We’ll work on that.” The low rumble of his voice vibrates against her and she bites back a moan. He keeps her leg around his waist as he moves down her body to suck one of her nipples, his groan muffled against soft skin as his tongue rakes over the piercing. Then he moves to the other one, bites down gently as she arches into his touch with a sigh.
“Hotch I-” Her words are cut off by his fingers moving between her legs, thick fingers almost too rough against her clit, circling slowly as he lifts his head and watches with a grin as her jaw goes slack and her head falls back. “Fuck me.” She gasps, she had wanted this for months, she couldn’t imagine waiting another moment.
“Not yet.” He snickers at the way she almost whines in disappointment, the sound quickly changing to a guttural moan when he pushes two thick fingers inside of her. Her walls cling to his fingers, hot and slick and he bites down on her neck to keep his own groan at bay. He curls his fingers, pushes them deeper and scissors them until she gasps and her fingers dig into his shoulder. “There it is.” The satisfaction in his voice as she grinds into his hand is unmistaken and he watches as her eyes flutter closed and she bites her bottom lip hard to keep from being too loud.
The sound of her slick was obscene, would make her feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. Her leg is still hooked around his waist, her hips moving up to get even more friction and as the pressure in the pit of her stomach builds, she can’t do much else but to cling to him. She could hear him, mumbling praise against her ear, felt his lips and tongue as he kissed, liked and bit down on her neck. He was everywhere and she was finally getting what she had been craving for so long.
“I’m close.” Her voice sounds foreign in her ears, raspy and low and it makes him smile into her neck.
“You’re clenching my fingers so good, I can’t wait to feel you get this tight on my cock.” When she moans in response he grins, the power rush of having Emily like this, desperate and pliant and yearning, close to maddening. “Is that what you want? To have me fuck you until you can’t remember your own name? To make you come until you’re begging me to stop?” He grinds the palm of his hand against her clit and pushes his fingers harder inside of her.
“Yes, yesyesyes!” She cries out as she falls over the edge, her orgasm intense enough to make her entire body strain as the pleasure takes her over. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, moves his fingers until she’s heaving for breath and loud moans turns into softer whimpers.
Aaron couldn’t believe how absolutely stunning she was as she gave into him, his eyes fastened on the way her face tensed in pleasure, how her eyes rolled back as she completely succumbed to him. And he knew he needed to see it again.
“Let’s do that again.” He mumbled against her lips before kissing her. Her tongue quickly found his, so focused on his lips on hers that she barely registered how he shifted above her. It wasn’t until the tip of him was notching against her entrance that she pulled away from his lips.
“I’m clean, and on the pill.” She whispered to his wordless question as both her legs wrapped around his hips. “Fuck me like you haven’t fucked your wife in years.”
Her words should make him angry, but they only turn him on, some twisted sense of depravity settling in his gut. And with that, he pushes forward, a grunt on his lips as he feels her slick walls around him.
“Fuck.” He groans, forehead falling onto her shoulder as he lets himself enjoy the way she feels around him. Hot, wet, tight. When he starts to move it’s with none of the care he usually takes, it’s rough and hard and then Emily is gasping against his neck, her labored breaths clammy against his skin. “Tell me how it feels.” He hisses against her ear, his teeth biting down on the lobe.
“So good.” She moans as her heels dig into his ass, wanting him deeper. “You’re huge.” When she feels him smile into her neck she clenches around him, not wanting him to think he has all the power.
“I know baby.” It was dumb, the pride he felt at her words, but they weren’t untrue and he knew that. “You’re taking my cock so well, you’re so good for me.”
The bed creaks with their movements, mixing with their breathless moans and groans. Hands move over sweaty skin, lips find new places to taste and kiss. It’s messy, filthy, exactly like she had imagined it would be. She comes again with his hand between their bodies, rubbing her clit with precise movements. When she gasps his name she can feel the way his hips stutter.
He doesn’t let her come down, keeps her beneath him as his fingers move faster over her clit, his hips strong against hers even as he feels his own release getting closer.
“Look what a good girl you are for me.” He muses as she trembles from overstimulation, her hands twisted in sheets to keep from digging into his skin. Her dark eyes are hazy and heavy-lidded when they meet his and he swears he’s never seen something sexier than Emily Prentiss, drunk on him. “You like that huh? Being good for me?”
“Don’t get used to it.” She sees the satisfied smirk on his lips, knew that he liked the challenge and she wouldn’t be giving in to him like this every time, no matter what he thought. “I want you to come in me, I want to feel the ache of you tomorrow.” She feels his fingers speed up even more against her clit, his hips jerking against hers and she whimpers.
“Filthy thing.” He groans before crashing his lips against hers. It’s messy, teeth clashing and more tongue than lips but the taste of her is enough to send him over the edge. The sound that leaves him as he comes is stuck somewhere between a howl and a growl, her name a snarl on his lips as he gives in to the pleasure of his orgasm.
The heat of his release is enough to make her come for a third time, his fingers still on her clit dragging it out until she’s twitching away from his touch. He’s panting above her, his body heavy and sweaty as he collapses on top of her, after-shocks making him twitch against her. She gently strokes her hand over his back, gives him a few moments to come down before nudging him off her.
“That was better than I thought it would be.” He doesn’t sound guilty, doesn’t look it either and Emily wonders if it would stay that way. Wonders if maybe in the morning he would think back to this moment and regret it. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did, but something in her told her that this was only the beginning.
“Really? I had no doubts about how good we would be at this.” She flashes him a smile and he laughs, something that’s louder than she expected but she found that she liked.
“You really are a minx aren’t you?” He rests his head against her pillow as she nods. He knows that he needs to go, it was getting too late to be able to explain his absence to Haley. Like she could read his mind she sat up, unashamed of her naked body as she leaned against the headboard.
“It’s getting late, you should go.” She thinks that he wants to stay, that he doesn’t want her to feel used, and she quickly adds. “I’ll see you tomorrow Hotch.”
Aaron looks at her for another moment before getting up to dress. It’s not awkward, in fact it feels easy, almost normal as he pulls his pants up and buttons his shirt.
“Do we need to talk about this?” He asks as he ties his tie.
“If this was a one-time thing, then that’s all it was. Like I said, I don’t believe in fairytales and happy endings.” It’s wrong, what they did, what they’ve been doing for months. But she knew that, had always known that and it didn’t stop her.
“I don’t think this was a one-time thing.” He leans over the bed, hands on either side of her as he speaks lowly, a look of certainty on his face before he kisses her.
She accepts the kiss he stamps against her lips in some sort of fucked up promise that this wasn’t the end.
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itsruki · 2 days
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Pain Relive
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SoftDom!Husband!Kakucho x Sub!Wife!Reader
MDNI! MINORS DO NOT READ!
Masterlist:
a/n: .........took me long enough..that's all i will say.....i hate that its shorter but idk....its just like.....i personally like how it turned out.
Synopsis: Kakucho comes home to take care of his wife. you are in so much pain due to your period. he understands and makes sure you feel better
Trigger warnings: afab-reader, period sex, mentions of unprotected sex, fingering, mating press, petnames: beautiful, angel, precious, princess, good girl, baby
word count: 1633
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Y/N:
       Can you bring me something when you get back from work?
Kakucho:
        Sure, what do you need?
Y/N:
       Pads, chocolate and a heating pad.
Kakucho:
       …...do you have your period?
Y/N:
       Yes…..
Kakucho:
       Oh. yeah, I will have it.
Y/N:
       TY
Once he walked through the front door, he scanned for his wife. "Y/N?" he called out for you. He walked to their shared bedroom to find you curled up in the bed, crying in pain.
"I got what you asked for." he whispered. He felt bad for you. He slowly walked up to the bed, kneeled down next to it, and petted your head. Your hair was pushed back behind your ear. "I'm sorry; beautiful..."
You sobbed as you looked into his eyes.
"It hurts so much, ´Kucho……" you whimpered. He thought for a second. His expression showed how bad he felt for you. He kissed your forehead before sliding his hand under your shirt and onto your abdomen. He held his hand there to give you some heat. He really wanted to relive some pain for you. He drew some circles on your stomach. Tears are running down your cheeks. He sighed. "...let me help you...Okay?" He looked at you with a desperate look. He wanted to make you feel better so badly. You gave him a small nod. "Do you trust me?" You nodded again. At that point, all you wanted was for it to stop. The pain was almost unbearable. 
He slowly laid you back on the bed, slowly moving down on your body. He spread your legs, kissing your thighs. 
You were lying in bed, wearing a long t-shirt and your panties, so the access was easy for him. His hands caressed your thighs gently and lovingly. With closed eyes, he rubbed his face against the inside your legs. "You feel so soft....." a mewl escaped your lips. A pink tint sneaked up on your cheeks. "Kakucho...y-you don't have to….it's gross and..-"
"Shhh. Let me take care of you. You are in so much discomfort…. I want to help...I don't mind some blood. I'm a man, not a boy."
He laid his hand flat on your covered folds and gave it some gentle rubs. A few gasps left your mouth. Your eyes hooded themselves. You were so much more sensitive than normal...his rubs were firm but still gentle. 
Fingers found Your waistband of your panties. He slowly pulled them down, not even reacting when he saw the bloody spot on the pad. He smiled softly as he looked into your eyes, his hand softly reaching out to your face, rubbing your cheek. "I will make it all better; beautiful…"
He leaned in, kissing your forehead. His left hand moved from your hip, between your legs. Gently running up and down between your folds. "You are very wet, angel….is that the blood or am I making you feel good already?" you held onto his shoulders and moaned out breathy. Your eyes squinted into thin lines. You tried so hard to keep them open, looking into his eyes. His thumb rubbed an infinity symbol on your little bundle of nerves. A mewly moan escaped your throat. "You are doing so good; precious…just let go. I will make sure you will feel good…..I can't stand seeing you in pain…." another kiss on your forehead.
You lost yourself in the eye contact you had with him. His soft, loving gaze. Those eyes, that always made you feel like the most beautiful woman on this planet. His right hand moved back to your cheek as he pressed his forehead against your own and smiled at you. "You are so beautiful...you know that, right?"
He never stopped rubbing your puffy clit as he treated you so softly.
The pain in your abdomen from earlier, replaced with butterflies and utter adoration.
You snapped back into reality when you felt his middle finger sliding inside your needy hole. "kaku...cho~" you moaned out.
"God you are so beautiful….you look so unbearably gorgeous…"
He slowly began to slide his finger in and out of you. His fingers were so much longer and thicker than your own, hitting spots you could never reach. You closed your eyes and gasped. The feeling of his finger is already so stimulating that all you could do was bring out incohesive words and babble out nonsense. 
You heard a chuckels rumbling in his chest.
"You look so cute when you are such a mess, angel…." 
He pushed another finger inside of you. "Oh god…" 
His forehead was still pressed against yours when he picked up the pace. His eyes were still fixed on you. You felt like you were getting closer; your lust dilated eyes found his again. "I'm...I´m….I'm close…" "I know...just let it happen, beautiful….let go.."
Your body began to convoluted. Your eyes shut tight as the waves of your orgasm crashed onto you. His hand didn't stop. He helped you ride out your climax while kissing your forehead and cheeks. "Shhh, you are doing so well, princess...such a good girl…"
He pulled out, and you whined from the missing feeling. He smirked and chuckled again. "More?" and you nodded.
He got up and took off his shirt, wiping off the blood on his fingers. Then he began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. 
You stared at him, still a little delirious from the past climax.
You already saw the giant bulge in his boxer shorts. When you tried to get up with the intention of pleasing him too, he held you down. He kissed your cheek and jawline before whispering into your ear, "Don't bother, angel...I'm here to make you feel good...my needs to come later…"
He pulled down his boxers, enough for his large cock to sprang free. He slapped his length against your swollen pussy, which caused you to whine out and him to gasp. 
"Look at me, angel….look at me…"
You nodded and opened your eyes to stare directly into his eyes, your cheek flushed with red. You could feel his tip on your entrance and almost forgot to breathe when he slowly pushed in. your eyes fixed on his. "Kakucho…." you moan out. You felt him twitch in you. "Say my name again, angel…"
He took both of your legs and pushed them further apart. "Kakucho…" you said again, and you heard him curse under his breath, trying to keep his composure. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and lifted your hips with ease to put the pillow under you. It took some pressure away from your abdomen and gave him just the right angle to hit all the correct spots. He pushed your legs against your chest as he began to push deeper. "I can't think..." Another dark chuckle rumbled in his chest when he kissed your caves while pushing the rest of the way, now fully bottoming you out. "I know Angel...I know.....just let go...let me take care of you." He pulled halfway out, then pushed back in. Your back arched into his, but he pushed you back down. "No, baby...just stay put. Don't move…" He applied more pressure to your body to keep you in place while he began to move at a steady but firm pace. Your brain is completely muddled up. He gave your ass a firm slap that made you yelp out. Drool spilled out of your mouth as you couldn't comprehend what was happening, entranced and drunk from the pleasure he gave you. Throughout all that, he praised you the whole time. "You are taking me so well, beautiful...you are doing so good...my perfect angel."
You felt him twitch in you every time when you moaned his name. "God...you feel Devine angel…" his face was buried in the crook of your neck as he picked up the pace. "G'nna make you feel good, angel….real good…" You felt his hot breath against your neck. He made it so hard to think but even if you would have been thinking, you would only think about him. His face, his eyes and his sweet, sweet smile. "I'm close….I'm so close…" you whined "hold it baby...I know...please hold it ... .i...I want to cum with you baby….can you do that for me?" and you nodded, keeping your breathing steady and trying your hardest to hold back. Tears were prickling down your cheeks. He kissed them away as he picked up the pace. You could feel him moan and growl. He stopped talking and kept ramming into you while cursing under his breath. He twitched more and more inside of you. You are fighting for dear life to hold back your incoming orgasm.  "Just a little more...just...a little…" When you began to whine, he shushed you "I know baby….please...please hold just a little longer….I'm almost there…..fuck….please baby…" you held it and held it until he finally began to shake uncontrollably. "Fuck...now angel….now...im cumming...fuck...i´m cumming…"
That took you the edge. You screamed as your eyes squinted shut. 
With a low, almost animal-like growl, he shot his cum deep inside your tight hole.
He rode out the orgasm for both of you with a few more thrusts.
His grip on your hips subsided, and your legs moved back down to the bed. His hand found your cheek, showering your face with kisses. "So good baby …did so good for me angel…"
He gave you a small, tired smile. 
"Does it still hurt?" He was still thinking about your pain, and you smiled back and shook your head. "No. I'm better now…"
He gave you a warm smile before kissing your lips. The kiss was filled with love, adoration and pure bliss. Then he turned over, lying on the bed, and pulled you into his arms.
"I love you"
"I love you too"
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Taglist: @yourefavsakura
©itsruki reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!
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sweetstars-posts · 1 day
Text
SKINNY,
M. STURNIOLO x FEM!SINGER!READER
(if you don't want to be a singer, it could be anything in the public eye, it’s only mentioned a little!!)
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WARNINGS — mentions of eating disorders, depression, anxiety, ALSO pet names (bc apparently that triggers ppl or smth).
a/n — this is a deep story based on billie eilish’s new song, skinny. as someone who faces troubles with eating, i wanted to make this for me and for those who need it <3
word count — 1.5k
(not proofread)
The rain is hitting the glass of my bay window as you stare helplessly out of it. The window opened a crack; the smell of fresh rain wafting into my room.
Your eyes are dull and lifeless — like you’re waiting for something that won't ever arrive. There's an aching feeling in your stomach, one that isn’t just nerves.
Your body ached as you haven’t moved from the soft plush cushions of the bay window for a couple hours.
Nothing in life felt appealing right now. The constant bodyshamming from the public eye got you back into a seemingly never-ending spiral.
People only seem to like you if you’re skinny. Eating was always a struggle, but now it almost feels like a game. Competing with yourself over and over again for trying to reach a certain weight goal that you won’t realistically achieve.
Everyone keeps saying you’re happier now. But are you? No. Complete sadness overtook you, but it was okay, because now you’re skinny.
But you also felt guilty.
You haven’t spoken to your boyfriend Matt in a couple days. You’ve been dating for 3 years and he knows every single thing about you. You still don’t have the energy to get up and try to find your phone which is nowhere to be found at the moment.
But knowing Matt, he probably knows what’s happening again. This seems to always happen. It’s like a record player that keeps repeating and repeating until the vinyl slowly starts to scratch and warp.
Your eyes falter slightly but they never seem to fully close. It’s like they can’t.
Your mind is racing 20 miles per hour but you can’t seem to comprehend a single word going through your brain.
The phone rings, the sound coming from somewhere in the mess of sheets on your bed.
A little while has passed and your phone still hasn't stopped. The obnoxious ringing made you even more aggravated. Yet somehow you felt stuck, like you couldn’t move to get your phone.
The sound absorbed into a dull hum from all the thoughts racing through your head.
You felt numb and lifeless. Like you were viewing yourself in a VR headset.
Time shaped into nothingness as your bedroom door creaked open. Your boyfriend, Matt’s, head peeks through the door.
His eyes soften as he sees your fragile figure on the soft cushions.
He closes the door behind him as he walks into the room. He makes a mental note to clean your room for you later. As he nears you, he sits on the floor, in front of the bay window.
His soft hands, grab your hands lightly, “I got you, it’s okay,” he finally breaks the silence.
Short jagged breath’s release your mouth, as you finally move your eyes away from outside, to him. He slowly moves to hold your head between his hands.
Tears slowly start to prick your eyes, yet you still don’t look away from him. Tears flow and flow, you have no control. Strangled breaths release, as you struggle to catch air.
“Hey, hey, I got you,” Matt’s fingers brush your tears away, his cold rings sending a series of chills down your spine.
Matt brought you into a warm embrace, lowering you down from on top of the seat, to his lap. He cradled you as if you were a broken fragile doll.
He pressed kisses towards your head, letting you release all those pent up emotions.
Neither of you knew how much time had passed, nor did either of you care.
Your breath’s evened out, and your tears died down. And Matt was still there by your side.
“Do you wanna talk?…” Matt questioned after a while.
“I’m just….tired” Your small tired voice let out.
Matt kissed your nose lightly before slowly standing up, pulling you up with him. He made his way to the bathroom connected to your room.
Upon setting you on the counter, he turns on the bath, letting it run for a little. He got everything ready — your clothes, a brush, and got all the small essentials, as you got in the tub.
He washed your hair, lathering the shampoo lightly. He then grabbed your brush and slowly brushed through the large matted knots.
“How about…after this we go back to mine? We can watch Inside Out because I know how much you love that movie,” His offer makes you smile, “And then we can work our way from there, how does that sound?”
You nod in response, too exhausted to speak.
After finishing up, Matt slowly helped you into one of his large sweaters and some pajama pants. Matt started to grab your phone and small things you would need to stay over (although most of your things are already at the triplets house).
“You ready, baby?” Matt extends his hand out towards you.
You grab his hand with a little small smile. Whatever joy you had in you was put towards Matt right now.
Matt led you to his car, opening the passenger seat. You could tell Chris sat there last. The seat was reclined and the seat was altogether far. You smiled at the way Chris left it.
“This kid doesn’t know how to fix his seat, I swear” Matt complained, as he helped you fix the seat.
Matt soon got into the driver side soon after closing your door.
“Where too?” Matt asked gently.
You looked at him in confusion. Weren’t you going to his house?
“C’mon, baby, we’re going somewhere to eat. Even if it’s something small, just… get something in your system.” Matt rubbed his hand against your knee.
The thought of food makes you want to throw up on the spot. You hated that he knew, but you loved that he cared.
“Nowhere..” You mumble quietly, head against the window.
You didn’t want to make this harder on Matt. But the genuine guilt fills you by just thinking about laying a finger on food.
“Sweetie, you need something.” Matt started the car, but ended up driving towards his house, “When we get home, you can have some toast. Even one slice, okay?”
You silently nod.
Matt pulled into the garage. As you and Matt make it inside, you can already hear Chris and Nick yapping about some movie they are watching in the living room.
As much of a bad mood you could be in, those triplets will always put a smile on your face.
Matt’s hand rests on the lower section of your back, gently guiding you through the basement. The two of you slowly walk up the stairs.
Chris and Nicks heads snapped towards the stairs as they heard footsteps, obviously Matt had told them.
Nick came running up to you guys first. He pulled you into a light hug, holding the back of your head with his hand, rocking you ever so slightly.
He pulled away, his hands resting on your face, “I’m so glad you’re okay, kid.”
Chris pushed Nick out of the way, “HEY! My turn”
Chris pulled you into a bone crushing hug, way more strong than Nicks. You smiled slightly into his shoulder.
“We were all so scared,” Chris whispered quietly.
As you guys pulled away, Matt grabbed your hand again, walking you towards his room, but not before bidding a small bye to Nick and Chris.
Matt closed the door behind him, as you went to sit on your designated side of his bed.
“I’ll be right back okay?” Matt kissed your head gently, before walking out of the door.
Matt had started to make a small piece of toast. Knowing you won't want to eat the other half, he put it on a plate for Chris to eat later.
Matt walked the short trip to his room, pulling the door open.
“Here, love” Matt put the plate on your lap.
You slowly grabbed at the piece of toast. Guilt swarmed you like a bunch of bees. Instead of taking a bite, you just stayed there.
Matt was now seated on his side, “It’s okay, Baby, it’s fine,” He rubbed your arm encouragingly.
Slowly but surely, you ate the piece of toast. Matt put on “Modern Family” while you ate. He never pushed you to eat faster, he was comforting and only wanted you to be comfortable.
“Good job!!” Matt’s large smile was contagious, it made you smile too.
As some time passed, you guys just stayed in each other’s presence. Not many words were said, but it was a comforting silence that everyone needs in their lives.
You and Matt were all cuddled up, your head resting on his chest. His hand rubbing your back gently.
His soft touch and actions, that lured you into a soft slumber.
“Goodnight, my love” Matt kissed the top of your head, himself feeling awfully tired.
At the end of the day, all you needed was a loving soul to guide you through your troubles. And Matt was that person. He was the light in your dark cave.
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klownkoster · 1 year
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Hello! What island does your oc call home & uhhh do they have any superpowers? They look mystical. :)
I have many ideas and thoughts for Lighting Rod so a good bit of this may change in the future, especially since I still can't decide on what I want to be canon for them yet despite working on their lore/backstory for three years😭
They find home to be on many islands! They travel a lot thanks to a good friend of theirs who inspired them to become an adventurer, so Lighting has many homes away from home. Though their island of origin I'd say is 24 Carrot. More on that later 😉
And they do have a few superpowers/pretty odd abilities, manipulating electricity/electrokinesis being one of them.
And those stitches you see on their neck? They can remove their head 👀
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sideblogforweirdshit · 10 months
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Whump Reference Post for Fingernail Removal Torture
 Hi whump writers of Tumblr! I recently made a little introduction post in which I said I’d be making reference posts. This is one I already had typed up, because for some reason this was the first thing I thought of.
There are no images attached, but I’m putting the rest of the post under a readmore since the majority of the content is semi-graphic written description of the how-to’s and wherefore’s and such of fingernail removal torture.
To be clear: I will be going into as much depth as I possibly can without using images. The content of this post will be purely academic. There will be no artistic liberties taken. This post is meant to be as accurate to (and descriptive of) a real-life situation as possible.
I hope some part of this post eventually winds up being a helpful resource for someone!
1) Not as painful as it’s made out to be
-It's painful, but definitely not to the extent it’s shown in movies or whatnot. A lot of the "pain" comes from the shock factor of seeing your body without something it’s always had, as well as the inherent "wrongness" that comes with experiencing a part of your body being removed.
2) There is very very thin film of skin between the fingernail and the finger.
-If one is careful in removing the fingernail by peeling it back slowly, one can preserve this thin piece of skin. -If one pulls the fingernail back quickly and without taking care, this thin film will rip, and the nail will pull away with bits of flesh attached.
3) The flesh under the nail will be vertically striated.
-If one uses the peel-back method, and is careful to not let the thin film of skin between the nail and the flesh rip, the skin/flesh underneath the nail will be as visibly striated as the fingernail itself. If you look closely at your fingernail right now, you’ll see that there are many tiny grooves from the tip of your nail to the base. This is true for all human fingernails. If the nail is peeled back with sufficient care, those striations will be echoed on the skin underneath the nail.
4) The  “peel entirely off” method versus the  "peel back and then stop" method versus the "pull out entirely" method.
-The “peel entirely off” method is how I will refer to the method of grasping firmly the tip of the fingernail in some sort of vice (usually pliers) and then peeling it backwards, moving the pliers from the nail at the tip of the finger towards the hand itself. Using this method, the nail will remain firmly grasped in the pliers the entire time. The movement of the pliers only stops when the base of the nail is ripped entirely out of the finger. This will necessarily result in ripping out a fair bit of skin past the cuticles, as the technical base of the nail (aka “nail matrix”) is generally around half a centimeter hand-wards past the cuticles (and follows the curve of the nail, so is deeper than the cuticles as well). Due to the nature of skin, I would expect a tear reminiscent of an extremely deep hangnail that goes from the base of the cuticles to at least halfway between the first and second knuckle (and at most goes to the second knuckle). In this case, it is not guaranteed that the nail will grow back. There is a chance it’ll come back, but there is also a chance that the nail matrix is permanently damaged and will not be able to grow a new nail. Since every human is different, there’s not an exact science to determining where a person’s nail matrix is before it’s ripped out. A (very) general rule of thumb is to follow the curve of the existing fingernail, and draw a point on that curve before it hits bone. Obviously, this is extremely subjective.
-The “peel back and then stop” method is how I will refer to what is essentially the previous method, but one stops before the nail-ripping goes past the cuticle and snips off the peeled part, leaving a milimeter or so of fingernail existing on the nailbed. In this case, it is assured that the nail matrix is undisturbed, and the fingernail will grow back. This is the method I will assume is taken for the future steps
-The “pull out entirely” method is how I will refer to the situation where one grasps the protruding part of the nail firmly, and applies force away from the hand and in the direction the finger points. In this case, there’s a large chance that the nail will rip. This depends largely on the care taken with the pulling object (pliers, usually) to grab the nail exactly parallel with the sides of the pliers. If any part of the pliers digs into the nail at a singular location, this will create a point at which pressure will build up, and the nail will likely rip at this location. The strength of the individual’s nails also affects the ripping. The individual’s nail strength can vary based on nourishment as well as on a general person-to-person basis. Personally, I do not recommend this method.
-If one wants to make the removal definitely permanent, there’s the possibility of peeling it back all the way down and out, and then chemically burning where one assumes the nail matrix is. (Some serious irl hikers do this to their toenails on purpose, to reduce the chances of getting ingrown toenails from being laced into hiking boots for days on end.) Removing the nail permanently will obviously reduce the opportunity to peel it off again, but will give a permanent Horrific Aspect to the victim.
5) For the first three days, the exposed flesh will be painful.
-The entire tip of the finger will be a constant deep and throbbing pain. Any deviation from this norm will be an increase in pain, never a decrease (save medication or an ice-bath-for-full-minutes immersion to the point of numbness).
-Any contact with the exposed nailbed will increase the pain. Knocking the exposed flesh against anything, even extremely gently, will result in a visible bright red welt under the thin layer of skin (bright red on light skin only! on darker skin, the welt will still be visible, but will show as a dark red-brown). It is a visual similar to an extremely tiny, non-protruding blood blister. Knocking the nailbed against something less gently will result in fully scraping off that delicate outer layer of skin.
-Using the finger for anything will be painful (though not unbearably so), and it may even be painful to bend the finger at all.
-Any moisture on the exposed flesh (including anything from regular water to antibiotic ointment) will hurt a lot. This will intensify the throbbing at least twofold across the entire nailbed, and will also result in an amount of stinging as if one had just realized one had been stung by a bee.
6) For treatment and healing thereof (if quick healing is desired)
For those first three days, any bandaid application is inadvisable -The exposed flesh will be so tender and vulnerable that any bandaid (even the non-stick kind) will stick to the exposed flesh and rip it upon removal. I can only assume this is in part due to the curvature of the finger, which means that any wrapping-around type bandaid will inherently put pressure on the nailbed, resulting in sticking.
-To promote healing, the first three days should be without any sort of covering on the wound.
After the first three days, a scab will form. -At this point, the pain will be much less. it might be uncomfortable to bump the nailbed into objects, but it will not be the same pain as in the first three days.
-The wound will also be much less sensitive to moisture.
-When the scab starts to crack (usually a vertical crack), one should apply antibiotic ointment and a bandaid. At this point in the proess, it is desired for the scab to remain as consistently moist as possibly. This will help the scab fall off when it is ready to do so.
-At this point, the finger can be used normally (within reason) without much (if any) pain.
After two or three days with the bandaid covering, the scab will start to fall off.
-One may expedite this process if one is careful.
-At this point, the skin on the nailbed is sensitive to the touch, but not to the point of pain.
-There will be some dry, loose skin around the edges of the nailbed.
-The previously visible striation will no longer be there.
-Pressure on the exposed nailbed will not be necessarily painful, but it will feel decidedly Odd. Though not painful, It will be an extremely sensitive area.
-The nailbed will be a delicate pinkish color.
Around a week after the initial scab falls off, there will appear to be another scab. It will be a relatively thin layer of dry, dead skin.
-If the nail is allowed to grow normally, it is likely that it will cover this second scab before it has the chance to fall off.
-If the stub of the fingernail is trimmed routinely, it is possible for the scab to fall off, leaving only relatively smooth unblemished skin where the nailbed is. This skin will be roughly the same color and texture as the skin on the tip of the finger. 
7) The rate at which fingernails grow back is extremely slow
-The average growth rate is about 3.5 milimeters per month. There are several factors that can cause this to vary:
-Fingernails on the dominant hand grow back faster than the nails on the non-dominant hand.
-Fingernails grow back faster than toenails.
-Nails grow back faster in warm weather than in cold weather.
-Depending on the nail and the aforementioned conditions, one can expect a total regrowth time of anywhere from three to six months (or more).
8) Life Without Fingernails
-Fingernails affect a large part of our everyday lives. We mostly use them when we’re manipulating objects with our hands, and we use them to scratch. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but it’s a lot. It’s hard to explain just how weird it is to not have fingernails to someone who’s never experienced it, but here goes:
-Fingernails are the Hard Backs used to brace our fingers against a hard shell when we manipulate something with our hands. If you pinch your fingers together right now, you’ll see a white band along the top of your fingernail. This is where the pressure from the pinching goes; it’s braced against your nail.
-Picking something up without fingernails feels extremely odd the first few hundred times you do it. It takes a long time to get used to it.
-Writing is even worse. Without the hard shell backing your fingers, the pencil tends to slip out of your grip more often. If you usually have long enough fingernails that you balance your pen/pencil on them, you’re extremely likely to have the pencil completely slip out of your grip multiple times a sentence.
-You don’t realize how much you unconsciously scratch itchy parts of your body until you no longer have the ability to do so. If you’re only missing a few nails, you have to consciously adjust your hand so that you can scratch with the existing ones. If you’re missing all of them, you have to actively find an external object to alleviate the itch.
Some places on the body one can scratch with their teeth, but for most places, one needs to either find an “itch stick,” or rub that part of their body on something scratchy. A lot of clothing is scratchy enough to work for this. One needs to learn how to vary the pressure so that one can alleviate the itch without tearing through the skin or scratching themselves.
Pros:
-Body horror
Fingernail removal is a more mentally significant mutilation than cuts or burns, if only because it draws on the "that was there and now it's not" aspect of body horror.
-Can be inflicted more than once
Since fingernails grow back, they can be removed again and again and again. Though it may take some time for the nails to regrow, it isn't even close to the type of permanent that’s chopping off a finger or a toe.
-Helplessness
Since it takes a few days for the nailbeds to heal enough to be able to use one's fingers, a complete removal of all fingernails will take away one's ability to use their hands. Even after this initial period of extreme sensitivity, the lack of fingernails is something most people aren’t prepared for. The previous section explaining how fingernails affect daily life is significant here.
 Cons:
-Can’t repeat often.
Once a fingernail is off, it's not coming back for at least three months (likely longer). It doesn't have the relatively quick reset time that burns or cuts do.
-Relatively short amount of time in pain
All of the pain is in the first few days. It is inconvenient afterwards, but there is little to no pain at this time.
-Amount of care needed
One needs to be relatively careful inflicting this. Fingernails are not as resilient as you'd think, and the likelihood of them ripping before you can finish ripping them off is fairly large if you're not being careful.
If you have a short-tempered or impatient whumper, this might not be their particular wheelhouse.
 Conclusion
Overall, I’d say that the effectiveness depends entirely on the desired result. The time it takes for the fingernails to regrow versus the amount of time in which the subject is in pain is not a very productive ratio, so if you’d want your whumper doing a particular torture regularly, I wouldn’t recommend this.
However, if the whumper’s goal is to appeal to the body horror aspect without permanent damage, this is a great option. The fact that it takes nails so long to regrow gives the victim a sense of horrified freakishness. It also has the added benefit of reducing the victim’s maneuverability far after the fact.
The semi-visible nature of this method of torture can be effective if one wishes to horrify characters outside the whumper/whumpee relationship. You don’t immediately look at other people’s hands when you meet them, and as such it might take a while for outside characters to notice the lack of fingernails (especially if they’re past the three day mark). But once they notice, it will be hard to look away.
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crimeronan · 4 months
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FUCK ***YES*** IT TURNS OUT ALL OF BREAKING BAD IS ON THE INTERNET ARCHIVE AND APPEARS VERY EASILY STREAMABLE THRU HYPERBEAM. COME HANG OUT AND WATCH THE PILOT WITH ME IF U ARE SO INCLINED. i'll plan to start around 7:25 PM PST? so like 10 minutes from posting this!
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venisontransmission · 19 days
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So! Alastor's past!
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Béatrice and Samuel did not marry because they were in love. They married because after a few nights together, Béatrice was with child. While they were a mixed race couple, Béatrice was Hatian, and Samuel was white - deep traditions in the South were rather firm about the idea of a man marrying the woman carrying his child.
Béatrice was distraught about marrying a man she did not love and feared the ostracization she would face over marrying a white man. But she wanted this child - she already loved them and knew she could not provide for her baby alone.
January 3rd, 1898, Alfred Jadou Foster was born. He has his mother's dark hair and eyes, but his facial features and body type are entirely his father's. His skin was tanned, but Béatrice was hopeful that her baby would not experience the harsh discrimination that she did.
Béatrice doted on her son. Alfred was a quiet boy who was deeply attached to his mother. It was rare to see him not clinging to her skirt up until the age of six. He didn't have much of a relationship with his father. He knew Samuel worked a job at a factory nearby and came home late, so they had very little moments together.
Just as well - his father held little to no affection for his son.
When Béatrice went out or was busy, she left Alfred with his maternal grandmother. She adored her grandson and wanted him to know about that side of his heritage (she had fought with her daughter in regards to her keeping that side of his family a secret from him). In reality, it was Samuel who forbade her from teaching Alfred Hatian Creole or introducing him to traditions.
His grandmother taught Alfred a lot of the basics of Hatian Creole and traditions - eventually, his mother would relent and secretly teach him the language as well as their traditions. Notably, mother and son bonded deeply through cooking.
Alfred, noticeably, did not emote much. This concerned Béatrice and agitated Samuel, who had recently lost his job due to the economy crashing. He started spending more time at home - drinking more after getting a job as a butcher.
Samuel is verbally abusive to Alfred, but rarely is it physical. He is physical with his wife, something that Alfred would constantly try to prevent to no success. Alfred learns to pretend to emote. Real emotions don't come to him normally. He doesn't understand why, but he feels disconnected from the world and calls these 'in-between' moments 'static'.
The only time his head feels clear is when he starts trapping and killing small animals in the woods by his home. He becomes an expert at tracking and goes hunting as he gets older to put food on the table.
As Alfred ages, his father's frustration and physical aggression turn to him - which is exactly what he wants. He protects his mother at all costs, eventually being injured by Samuel smashing a bottle on his head and damaging the vision in his right eye.
His mother uses all her savings to buy him a radio for his thirteenth birthday, knowing how much he loved them. When he is sixteen, he starts working for a local radio show to earn extra money.
At eighteen, he's kicked out of the house by his father. Alfred makes plans to buy an apartment, get a good job, and take his mother out of that house.
When Alfred is nineteen, his mother dies due to bleeding in the brain caused by multiple head injuries.
A few days later, Alfred takes his hunting rifle, kills his father, then eats him, and scatters his remains in the forest.
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ziwi-miwi · 8 months
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Thinking about the fact that Nathan drugged Chloe and tried to take pictures of her too
Like the whole thing with Rachel had to have already happened at that point. Was she gonna be the next victim? Why was he doing it in his room instead of at the bunker? Was he trying to hide it from Mr. Jefferson? What would he have done if he'd made the same mistake and overdosed her? It's a lot harder to cover up if it happens in the frickin dorm
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camscendants · 10 months
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Had a bad day at work yesterday
#honestly first half was so good#I was in a really good mood we were all chatting#it was a manageable busy I was happy#and I was training a new person#theres this team lead and when regular chatting she’s really nice but when it comes to anything work related she’s horrible#one of my favorite coworkers quit because of her#idk she’s like extra ‘bossy’ like we Have to constantly be doing something. not waste a second.#she acts like she knows better than me SHE EXPLAINS TO ME HOW TO DO SHIT LIKE I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO MY JOB AS IF I HAVENT BEEN HERE#TEN TIMES LONGER THAN HER#the day took a turn for the worse when she said ‘we’re gonna need ice.’ I was waiting at a register with new girl cause customers were#literally walking in and approaching and she raised her voice at us basically yelling at us to go get ice. like what#that triggered me and blahblahblah a few tiny annoyances later I’m in the back having a panic attack. and the manager catches me at first#told me off for not being in the front to help with the line but when she noticed I was crying she let me have a minute to calm down#then closing I had to do dishes. I’m always slow at them I warned everyone. but I was in a really bad mood at that point#I rushed them. I did a meh job I skipped steps I cut my finger I wasn’t being slow I was soaking wet I did them as fast as I possibly could#cause I was so done. we have two freezers in the back I have all the wet dishes on one and I’m dying them on the other. team lead comes to#the back says I’m the last one cleaning. we need to get overran from that freezer for the front. I ask if they can get it when I’m done#(literally like four things left to dry) she says no she has to clock out at midnight and basically started going off on me and my coworker#about how basically were doing a bad job cause we’re supposed to be Done by 11:30??? so we’re late and now it’s affecting her and it’s our#fault??#WE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DONE BY 11:30 NONE OF THE MANAGERS EXPECT US TO BE DONE BY THEN YES WE ARE SCHEDULED TO THEN BUT ITS BASICALLY#IMPOSSIBLE TO BE DONE BY THEN IVE BEEN HERE NEARLY A YEAR AND IVE GOTTEN OUT BEFORE MIDNIGHT MAYBE TWICE.#I DID THOSE DISHES AS FAST AS I POSSIBLY COULD#she is a grown ass adult talking to teens like this. we all also had school that day we were tired#and honestly we were so fucking fast that night. nearly done and not even midnight? damn. she clocked out and left before we finished#I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt cause she was nice when having a normal chat but no she’s a jackass#made me cry twice yesterday#I’m so close to messaging the old coworker who quit because of her about this cause she’s also older. she was like the mom of the theater#she loves us and if she heart team lead was making me cry she would come in and tell her tf off#I’m not good at confrontation. I just grabbed the shit and put it out front and paced around a lot. felt like shit.
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merigoldaround · 1 year
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I got an idea for a fic this morning and I don't know if I can come up with anything better ever again after that.
(I always do though)
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deaconsleatherpants · 2 years
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hate to break this to you buddy but deacon isnt your grubby little man or whatever hes a fucking nazi.
I have a lot I could say about this, but I think that if you really wanted to have a genuine discussion about this serious topic, you wouldn’t have sent this on anon.
Just to be crystal clear, I do not endorse or support fascism in any way. I am also a Jewish woman and have dealt with plenty of antisemitism in my life. Put simply, there are many clues throughout canon that suggest Deacon was not a true supporter of Nazism, and indeed did what he could to get out of that situation. The stage show explains his role in the war much better, and judging by my own knowledge of the war it seems likely he would have been experimented on and weaponized.
It’s okay if you don’t like Deacon. But please don’t come after people who do like him, just because of one throwaway joke you didn’t analyze at more than face value. His past is not something that has come up on this blog before, so why act like I’m glorifying his wartime history? If the content here is unsuitable for you, kindly use your own discretion to decide whether or not to view it. It may be that this just isn’t the blog for you. ✌️
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multi-realm · 2 years
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I started this a month ago and I guess it should leave the vault eventually. All things considered, I’m happy with how this came out though!
Process gifs under the readmore!
I was hoping I’d be able to put these side-by-side with each other, but it’s not working. Sorry read-more people ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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xecat · 6 months
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played ds game from my childhood for a bit b4 goin to sleep. planning to stream a bunch of the games i have but like on an emulator . kinda related is there a way for a chat command to make a trigger warning list appear on the stream overlay
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