#me: I’ll only bring a few so it’s easier to choose! me now that I have to choose: fucking hell

[seinahirai]

『 Blinded Haze 』 Bada Lee x Reader

summary: bada’s been stressed lately, so you decide to surprise her.

word count: 1.6k

contents: smut, dom!bada, sub!reader, reader gets a bit self conscious, bada takes care of that, hickeys, blindfolding, sex toys, fingering, bada licks your cum off her fingers, implication of aftercare

disclaimer: the images are only for aesthetics and are not depicted as what reader’s body looks like ‼️

you know how stressed bada’s been the past few weeks, with the concerts and performances, on top of having to teach classes back at justjerk.

she was finally getting a day off tomorrow, so you figured, what better way to greet her than with lingerie?

bada herself said that sex with you always made her feel better, that feeling your warm body against hers while in a post orgasmic haze was like heaven.

that lead you to the idea of surprising her with some old lingerie you found in your closet and taking out your box of sex toys and leaving it on the bed so she could choose what she wanted to do to you.

you also know that her favorite thing to do after sex is cuddle and eat snacks, so you went out and bought all of her favorite snacks and left them near the nightstand for when you were finished.

now all you had to do was wait, which was easier said than done.

you had finished all the preparations about an hour before bada usually came home, which gave you a lot of time to think.

and when you have a lot of time to think, you most likely begin to overthink, which is exactly what you started to do.

the more time that passed, the more your mind began to flood with thoughts like “what if she doesn’t find me attractive in this lingerie” or “what if she’s too tired to have sex and i got ahead of myself?”

after a while, you were ready to just cancel everything altogether, when you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling and the door opening.

you froze in your spot, taking a deep breath before getting up to greet bada.

you made your way to the door, feeling a bit nervous as you watched her come through the door.

nonetheless, you smile and give her a hug after she takes her coat off and puts her stuff down.

“hey, baby.” she says, giving you a kiss on the lips before stepping back to fully look at you.

that was when she realized what you were wearing, and when she did realize, she did nothing but stare for a few seconds.

realistically, it should have been obvious that she was admiring how beautiful your body looked, but with your previous session of overthinking, you couldn’t help but feel even more self conscious.

“fuck, you look…”

“i can take it off if you’re not in the mood.”

you say quickly, avoiding bada’s gaze as you fidget with your fingers.

at that, bada gives you a confused look before stepping closer to you and gently pulling you in by the waist.

“baby, i’ll always be in the mood for you. i told you this already.” she leans in to kiss you, and you wrap your arms around her neck to deepen it.

after a few seconds you pull away, still avoiding her eyes.

“i know, it’s just…you’ve been really tired lately, and it’s been a while since you’ve seen me in lingerie. i guess i just got a little self conscious…”

bada chuckles a bit at that, bringing a thumb to your chin and lifting it up, making you look at her.

“baby, you’re absolutely stunning with or without the lingerie. truthfully, you didn’t even need it to turn me on.” she says, pressing soft kisses on your neck as her hands begin to explore your body.

“do you know how many times i’ve had to excuse myself to the bathroom because i’ve gotten horny at just the thought of you?” she whispers against the skin of your collarbone before pressing a few more kisses there.

you sigh softly, tangling your fingers in her hair as you lean your head back to give her easier access.

she begins gently sucking on the soft skin of your neck as one of her hands begin to grope one of your tits, her thumb flicking your nipple through the thin material of the lingerie.

you let out a whine, gasping softly at the feeling of her hands on your tits.

after a few more seconds of bada sucking on your neck, she pulls away and admires the sight of your neck now covered in hickeys.

“how about we take this to the bedroom?” she says, and you only nod, letting her lead you to your shared bedroom.

when you walk into the room, bada seems amused at the sight of your box of sex toys sitting on the bed.

“you can use anything in there on me tonight.” you say, and she looks down at you with a smirk on her face.

“anything?”

you nod, taking her hand and guiding her to the bed. “i wanted to surprise you.”

bada scans through the box, looking at all the different options before her eyes stop on one thing in particular.

the blindfold.

she’s never used the blindfolds on you before, so she saw this as an opportunity to do so. she took the blindfold out, her eyes meeting yours as if to confirm that this was okay to use on you.

when you give her a nod, she smiles and beckons you to come closer, which you do quite eagerly. she gently ties the blindfold around your eyes, double checking to make sure it wasn’t too tight.

it does feel slightly strange to not be able to see what bada’s doing, but you trust her with your life so it doesn’t bother you too much.

you hear her take something else out of the box before moving it to the floor.

“what else did you get?” you ask, your head turning in the direction of the noise.

“you’re blindfolded for a reason, princess.” she says, and you can imagine the smirk on her face as she says it.

you pout slightly, but mumble an “okay” as you lay down on the bed.

you feel bada spread your legs apart, chuckling softly at the sight of your dripping cunt. “your pretty pussy is already so wet for me.”

you whine pathetically, her words only making you even more wet.

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna take good care of this pussy.”

she begins kissing your inner thigh, her lips leaving the same marks they left on your neck. after a few moments, she looks up at you through the opening of your thighs (not that you could see her lustful gaze).

“you ready, baby?” she asks, pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh.

after you nod eagerly, you hear a noise that sounds like something being turned on, but before you can think anything of it, you feel a vibrating sensation on your clit, making you moan out loudly as you instinctively close your thighs at the sudden pleasure.

bada quickly forces your thighs back open, pressing the vibrator to your clit once more. “don’t run from it, baby.” she says, smirking at the way you squirm around.

bada reaches her hand out to yours, letting you squeeze it as you moan loudly from the pleasure. the fact that you couldn’t see anything only seemed to make you more sensitive.

your hold on bada’s hand only becomes tighter when she turns up the setting on the vibrator without warning. you let out stuttered moans and whines as she coos softly at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing.

“aww, does my pretty baby wanna be filled up?” she pulls her hand away from yours, and before you can whine about it, you feel two fingers pushing into your pussy, making you gasp in pleasure as you dig your nails into the sheets.

bada immediately begins thrusting her fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, not giving you any time to adjust to the penetration.

“good girl, taking me so well.” she praises, and it only seems to make you even louder.

you feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm approaching, but you can’t form the words to let bada know. luckily, she can already tell from the way your walls tighten around her fingers.

“are you close, pretty girl? here, let me help you.”

bada’s fingers press up against the spongey part of your pussy while her other hand turns the vibrator up onto the 3rd setting.

you cry out pathetically as your orgasm washes over you, your thighs trembling your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

bada continues the move her fingers, fucking you through your orgasm and the overstimulation of it all brings you to tears.

when bada notices it looks like you’ve had enough, she slides her fingers out of you and turns the vibrator off, bringing her fingers to her lips to clean off your cum and wetness.

“you taste so good, baby.” she says, bringing her face to your cunt to lick up all your cum, making you whine loudly.

bada chuckles and lays down next to you, taking off the blindfold and smiling at your hazed expression when you open your eyes.

“there’s my pretty girl.” she says softly, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you deeply before pulling you into a hug, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

she sighs at the feeling of your bodies against each other, having missed the feeling of intimacy.

after a few minutes, you mumble something incoherently, nuzzling your cheek further onto bada’s neck.

bada giggles, finding you adorable. “what’s that, baby? i can’t hear you.”

you repeat your mumbling, but bada can faintly make out the words “snacks” and “nightstand”.

bada glances over to the nightstand next to your bed, smiling softly when she sees the bag full of snacks. she had completely missed it earlier.

“aww, baby. you’re so sweet.” bada coos, kissing you on the cheek once more.

“i love you, bada.” you whisper, giving her a lopsided smile.

“i love you more, baby.”

#bada lee x reader #bada lee smut #bada x reader #bada imagine #swf2 x reader #seina swan !

[jenanigans1207]

Hi, please accept me being weak and sharing even more of this fic that I'm working on because I'm too impatient to hold onto this until the fic is done.

For context, the whole point of the fic is that Dean gets hit with a curse that forces him to tell the truth if asked a question.

(enjoy the angst of me projecting onto Dean Winchester!)

----

“You don’t get it.” Dean grinds out, all frustration and sharp edges, words cutting his own throat as much as they’re cutting Cas.

“Dean—”

“Ask me.” Dean says, throwing his arms out to the side. “I can’t fucking lie so ask me.”

Cas stares at him for a long moment and it’s not hard for Dean to read the expressions on his face. Up until this point, Cas had been very carefully and delicately choosing his words every time he spoke to Dean, careful to not accidentally phrase something in a way that would come across as a question. He has been diligent in his attempt to respect Dean’s privacy and Dean’s wishes, steadfast in his belief that Dean should not be forced to tell them things, but should only volunteer things willingly. Even though Sam had been practically chomping at the bit to finally get Dean to talk about his feelings.

But Dean was giving Cas permission to ask, to force the curse to bring the words to the surface. This was about as willing as Dean got when it came to feelings and Dean could see the exact moment that Cas accepted the permission he was being granted. 

“Why do you always push me away?” Cas asks after a moment, his voice quiet, like he’s afraid of receiving the answer as much as he’s afraid of what delivering the answer will do to Dean.

But Dean doesn’t need the curse to bring up the answer. At this point, everything is such a fucking disaster that Dean’s willing to answer that honestly all on his own.

“It’s easier.” He says, and he notices the way Cas steels himself for whatever else Dean is about to say, as if he’s prepared for repeated blows to the heart. “If you leave because I push you away— because I’m a short-tempered asshole who crosses the line and says shit he doesn’t mean, I can live with that. Because that— that’s my fault, Cas. And at that point, just add it to the list, you know? Everything is my fault— Sam being back in the life, everything that’s happened to him, everything that’s happened to you, the fucking end of the world was my fault! So yeah, if you leave because I pushed and pushed and pushed until you couldn’t bear it anymore, I’ll just add it to the list of reasons I hate myself and cope with it the same way I cope with all the other reasons— too much alcohol and even more denial.”

Cas’s lips part, clearly surprised by the answer he’s getting. “That’s—”

But Dean isn’t done. “I’ve spent my entire life hating everything about myself, Cas. And yeah, I’m not sure I ever hate myself more than I do when I hurt you that— that is a new low, even for me, but it’s still in the realm of things I understand. But if— Cas, If you—” Dean’s throat is so fucking tight that it hurts and the words almost can’t get out. He clenches his jaw, swallows, and decides to put himself out of his fucking misery. “If I asked you to stay… If I told you how badly I always want you there, how nothing is ever right when you’re gone, how I never want you to leave and you— and you left anyway? If I told you the truth and you still chose to leave despite that? Cas, that would kill me. It really would.” Dean can’t look Cas in the eye now that the words are out in the open. “So instead, I push. If you’re going to leave no matter what, at least I can blame myself for it. It at least makes it a little easier to breathe in those lonely moments. Gives me something to do, too, you know? Instead of missing you every second of the day, I spend at least a few of them kicking my own ass for what I’ve done and continue doing to you.”

There’s a long, tense silence that follows the words and Dean honestly doesn’t know how he expects Cas to react.

“And you—” Cas’s voice is as strained as Dean’s had been and Dean glances up at him briefly, unsurprised to find the pain reflected in his face. It’s not like Dean’s unaccustomed to hurting Cas, he shouldn’t be surprised that even his honesty manages to do it. “You think that I would leave either way? You think that I— I want to go? That I would choose to go even if you didn’t push me away?”

It’s several questions all jumbled together, but it doesn’t really matter because they all have the same answer anyway. “Yes.”

Dean had hurt Cas a lot of times in the past, he knew that. He wouldn’t say he’d come to terms with it, wouldn’t say that each and every time he had said something intentionally harsh, cruel, or uncalled for wasn’t tied for number one on his list of reasons he hated himself more than any other creature on earth. But still, he knew that he had done it and he often replayed it in his head, hurting himself with the memory of hurting Cas. But despite that, nothing prepares him for the way Cas’s face crumples at his answer, for the way he looks more dejected, more hopeless Dean has ever seen him. Suddenly every other time Dean has hurt Cas barely even makes the list of reasons he hates himself because this— this just took every spot in the top one hundred.

Dean doesn’t think he’ll ever get the image of Cas’s broken, faithless expression out of his mind.

Dean almost expects Cas to try and school his expression into something a little more neutral, something to disguise the hurt in his eyes. He usually does, just to spare Dean the pain— or maybe Cas thinks it’s the satisfaction— of knowing that he’d landed another winning blow. But Cas doesn’t do anything to cover up the agony in his expression, doesn’t even attempt to pretend that he’s not breaking to pieces right before Dean’s very eyes.

Dean fucking Winchester, the man cursed to save the world that does not love him and to break the only actually precious thing he’s ever been given.

“Why?” Cas finally chokes out. “Why would you think that?”

Dean answers his question with a question, “Why would you stay?” Cas stares at him with eyes that are impossibly blue and unfathomably sad. For someone who knows only disappointment, Dean’s surprised to find that it hurts so much to find it reflected in Cas’s eyes. “I’m not— I’m not a fucking joy to be around, Cas. I’m not shining sunshine out of my ass, I’m not Mary freaking Poppins. I’m an asshole— clearly— and I… Jesus Christ, I’m a fucking disaster, a basket case. There’s more wrong with me than there is right. Me constantly pushing you away is an example of that!”

“Dean, if you’d let me, I would—”

“Let you?” Dean repeats, somehow incredulous despite the absolute trainwreck of a situation. “Let you? Cas, I may push you away, but I don’t physically shove you out the door. And I’ve never once locked it behind you, never once stopped you from coming back. You get that, right? I may push and push and push but you? Cas you leave.”

Somehow this is getting worse by the second and if Dean weren’t so unbearably miserable, he’d be impressed that he’s managing to fuck everything up further with every word that comes out of his mouth. Looking at Cas now, he’s honestly not sure which one of them hates the situation they’re in more, which one of them feels worse. Cas looks like he’s about to collapse in on himself, like the only thing he’d ever been fighting for just gave up and surrendered the battle. He looked like his entire purpose had just been ripped away from him. 

“I don’t ever want to leave, Dean.” Cas says brokenly. 

“Then why do you?” Dean asks, just as broken, just as quiet, just as desolate. And when Cas doesn’t immediately answer, biting back a reply that he clearly knows, Dean laughs, bitter and humorless. “Right, ‘course. Forgot, I’m the only one who has to be honest, here. Fucking fantastic, Cas, that’s just great.”

Cas takes a tentative step forward. “Dean—”

Dean has always hated how much he loves the way Cas says his name. Cas, a former Angel of the Lord said Dean’s name reverently, like a prayer, like it carried some sort of holy meaning or importance. Cas said his name like it was a blessing to be able to speak it at all, like it was the only name he ever wanted to say again. 

And Dean can’t take that right now, can’t let Cas say his name like that while refusing to meet him in the middle on this. “No, just—” He’s breaking, he’s breaking, he’s been broken for so many goddamn years at this point and yet somehow he’s still breaking. “You— you were supposed to fight, you asshole. You were supposed to come back and see that the door was still open. You were supposed to— to try. And you never did— do. You never do. So I keep pushing and you keep leaving and it’s easier for me to blame myself than it is for me to blame you but god, Cas, it doesn’t matter whose fucking fault it is because it hurts every time you go.”

Dean doesn’t know if angels cry. But if they do, he’s certain that Cas would. If there were only ever one angel in all of history that cried, Dean would know with absolute certainty that it was Cas. And Cas isn’t even an angel anymore, technically. He’s just a stupid human with stupid human emotions and the even stupider human inability to deal with them. But he looks like he might cry, like he might prove to Dean to that all of his celestial holiness was just a rouse and that he’s always been harboring this deep seated sadness underneath. 

“I—” Cas starts to say, but whatever response he had is lost to the sound of Sam opening the door finally.

“Hey,” Sam says hurriedly, and there’s a smear of blood on his cheek. He stumbles into the room, the hand on the doorknob stopping him from toppling over completely. Once he makes it in the room he pauses, seeming to notice the tension that’s suffocating them. His eyebrows rise as he glances between the two of them. “You guys good?”

“No,” Dean answers immediately, the curse beating Cas to the punch. “We’re not.”

That seems to catch Sam off guard and his hand slips off the doorknob as he regards Dean. He probably wants to ask some question that would make Dean rehash this entire thing, probably wants to do something stupid and sentimental like sweep him up into a bear hug and tell Dean that everything will work out. But he seems to sense the severity of the situation, the levity of the expressions on both of their faces. He shuts his cakehole.

“No,” Cas agrees after a moment, and his voice is thick with emotions and whatever words he was forced to swallow back down when Sam barged in. “But we will be. Right, Dean?”

Even the curse doesn’t have an answer to that one, leaving his throat completely dry as he tries to swallow, letting him give whatever kind of response he wants. “Yeah.” He chokes out after a moment, not meeting the gaze of either of them. “We always are.”

#i keep skipping ahead to write the really emotional scenes #because i can't get them out of my head #so enjoy this #and know that the fic has a happy ending #whenever we get there #i actually already wrote the confession lmao #anyway #as usual i can't keep shit to myself #destiel #spn #supernatural #angst

[hollyhomburg]

Brain going brrrr about mafia lord namjoon again for my 3003939837th time of being an army, 

only this namjoon uses his many galaries for money laundering but secretly just loves art for arts sake 🥺 he’s really just a sweetheart who wants nothing to do with the mafia life, he buys art that he thinks is greatly undervalued for twice the price and secretly sponsors his favorite artists. his parents think he’s hopeless, he sneezed over a bag of co*kane the last time that he went to check the families product. and he litterally almost shoots off his own foot any time he has a gun in his hands, he doesn’t drive as much for his own safety as the rest of the family he’s...not cut out for the mafia life to put it bluntly. 

he’s not a monster (until you make him one) 

his parents are getting onto him to get married, his father has long since stepped down as the head of the family, preferring to split his year vacationing in monaco and macau. But once or twice a year- namjoon’s parents do meet up with him just to make sure that namjoon’s not running the family drug empire into the ground. 

it’s usually a painful meeting full of “why are you still living in an apartment and not a house” “you spend too much time on frivolous pursuits, you should take up something” “what, like murder?” “*insert weighty silence here*,  but the thing they get on him the most about- is marriage. 

namjoon’s never had much luck in the relationship department. hes had a few girlfriends and boyfriends through the years- then a few sugar babies here and there when he got tired of people pretending to only be into him for his money and would rather have that out-front. his parents Gesture to a waitress (our m/c) and say “you can choose any woman namjoon, even that one would do” as if on queue- the m/c spills a drink over a main table, but can’t get more than a simple apology out before the man starts shouting obscenities about does she know who he is and he’ll have her job for this. 

namjoon doesn’t like mean people. it’s a pity that he has to deal with them often in his line of work. 

So namjoon gets up, walks over to her and litterally punches the man out. ngl- i just love the idea of the waitstaff being all like “😅 we know who you are and we won’t call the cops” meanwhile namjoon’s never thrown a punch in his life, shakes his hand and almost cries. “if you wanted to impress me there are easier ways” are the first words she says to him. hands on her hips. and all of a sudden he feels like a schoolboy under a microscope. 

“how much money would I need to give you to walk away with me right now” and she takes one look at his Rolex and decides based off of that that yeah- going home with this businessman who has her boss quieting in with a single look.

It’s kinda love at first sight- or if not first sight- maybe first drink. they quickly find a secondary location- a bar- and get waisted together. it’s not something the m/c’s done since she was young and desperate- getting drunk with Rich men. maybe the world hasn’t been kind to her- maybe she views namjoon only as a wallet but when she confesses it he just- shrugs. “you don’t seem disappointed with me yet- you can stay until you get judgemental. then you’re out” 

“whats got you so certain that i’ll find you disappointing?” namjoon’s not used to people praising him and meaning it- or greeting him with such honesty either. 

She becomes his paid girlfriend pretty quickly after that, maybe she never goes back to her apartment only to his, empty and full of art. she tries to sneak out in the morning only namjoon stops her. “i actually have a family lunch today, if you come i’ll make it worth your while” 

the while- happens to be a brand new gyvanche dress and a matching pair of heels. namjoon (secretly) only brings her along because he knows with an outsider there- at least his family won’t talk crime and murder- it’s so painfully boring to him. 

only…there’s something off about her. Something that reminds him maybe of a cat- or like one of his assassins, something that’s figuring him out subtly piece by peice when she watches him. she’s not judgmental of him for laying in bed all day, or for talking about art too often if anything, she seems almost to prefer it that way. 

it doesn’t take her long to figure out that namjoon isn’t just a simple art dealer, that the detail that follows him and eventually her- isn’t just for protection from the paparazzi. But to Namjoon’s surprise, the first time his bodyguard jungkook takes out a would-be assailant, she doesn’t scream or act revolted at the sight of a dead body (namjoon might be soft but he’s also been conditioned for this since birth) simple peers down at it with a cool calculating eye.

The rest of the men are watching, and waiting for her to react, until she lifts her gaze to namjoon and raises a single eyebrow. and then one of namjoon’s men is apologizing and putting his coat down for her so that she can step over it without getting blood on her louis vitton pumps.  

it’s okay, she says, “they’re already red-bottoms anyway” 

it starts slowly from then, first she expresses an interest in seeing how the family business is run, then she starts to ask specifics about the money laundering and just how deep their connections run it the government as well as insurance about their police protection. the guards and henchmen quickly learn that she’s someone to respect and make happy- even before the boss (happy wife happy life and all that). 

Namjoon’s used to having a more hands off approach to the crime side of things- but he wakes up sometimes to the smell of bleach on the air, wanders down to the kitchen to find the kitchen and his wife as ordinary and as in place as possible. (she earned the ring pretty much one month in, it was a fast engagement and an even faster wedding. 

but even namjoon had to admit there was quite a-lot of work to be done and more important things to spend money on. 

its not until a few months into their marriage that namjoon realizes that the responsibilities and headaches of being the kingpin of the mafia haven’t come to call on him recently. He hasn’t been asked to make an appearance in a while or check the security of any of their bases, and he hasn’t been called on to deal with any moles or unruly employees. 

 it’s almost as if...someone else has been taking control of them for him, like someones been doing the job he never wanted. 

namjoon would be more upset only theres not much to complain about, he gets to walk art galleries every morning and purchase lavish paintings that he wants to have in his home or on his properties. he gets to go to the opera without any dignitaries trying to seek him out and make small talk. he knows that his wife...she must be behind it- but namjoon’s almost relived that she’s taken his job. 

At night when they’re lying side by side, namjoon rubs her shoulders and confesses, “you’re a better mob boss than i ever was” 

“Don’t sell yourself short joonie- it’s not that you couldn’t be- it’s that you don’t want to be.” 

“you say that like becoming a kingpin is the same as becoming a professor- you could get into grad school if you only applied yourself more” namjoon mimics a nasal voice just to hear her laugh. 

“okay- you might be right about that one- but at least becoming a queen-pin was less expensive than 5 years of education.” 

he’s happy to live his life like he’s unaware that he’s no longer the man in control until one day...she doesn’t get home on time- they’d had plans for their first wedding anniversary- namjoon commissioned an impressionistic portrait of her as a present as well as a very small original art piece because she’s been encouraging him to try and make art of his own. 

it’s not until he gets a call that makes his blood run cold. “boss...i think they’ve taken...our other boss” 

the thing about namjoon is that he’s not a monster- unless you give him a reason to be one, and taking his wife away from him is certainly a reason to bring out the monster. 

he finds her quicker than anyone expects- maybe because she’s charmed his men as much as she’s charmed him- and nothing ever did beat out loyalty like love. he finds her and she’s mostly unharmed, only...her enemy is someone namjoon hasn’t even heard off- even if according to his men they’ve been waging litteral war for the last 4 months.

 imagine her saying “i told you he’d come” all weak from pain- maybe drawn up with some chains. 

“a dog comes when called” her captor snears, gun shaking, but namjoon’s heart feels as cold as ice as he watches her- his strong beautiful wife in pain because of him, all because he couldn’t step up. she’s right- being a kingpin is all about motivation. 

“you say that like i don’t enjoy being hers, if i’m her dog then i’m fucking biting.” 

lets just say after that she starts to see him as an equal and namjoon discovers that he might not like being a monster- but he does like being /her/ monster. and the two of them lead side by side and live happily ever after 💜 thats all i’ve got <3 

#bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts au #namjoon x reader #bts hurt/comfort #bts fluff #bts fic #namjoon fic #mafia boss! namjoon

[blackbat05]

Complete Faith

Steven Grant x Reader

A/N: I foresee more of these fics to cope🙂 but I hope it brings you comfort too in tough times. Steven being a sweetheart as always💞

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: Self-doubt, insecurity. Only my two braincells writing this.

***

You ambled into the room, carefully placing your bag at the side before settling on the swivel chair.

Steven who is on the bed, puts a bookmark in his novel, turning his attention to you.

“Bad day?”

“Nah, just exhausted.” You smiled weakly. It was only a few weeks in but somehow, you found yourself easily overwhelmed.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself mentally. Before Steven can ask you further, you decide to interject, asking about the novel in his hand - a book about old Egyptian times.

Steven shares, and his enthusiasm is what you need to momentarily keep your mind away from whatever is going on.

“Enough about me,” he shifts his position, swinging his legs off the bed. “Anything you want to share with me?”

Steven was so genuine, so caring. How could you deny him the right to know what was buzzing in your head?

He was a great source of support ever since you met him in the museum while you were taking a break from work. He deserves to know.

“It’s crazy. It hasn’t been a month yet and I’m already feeling all sorts of things. I must be mad.” You attempt to laugh it off, only to see the browns of his eyes soften.

“Love, you’re literally talking to me. I think I’ll decide what’s mad.” Steven takes your hands into his.

“What kind of things?”

You don’t know where to start, but Steven doesn’t rush you to tell him.

“Well, for starters I feel like I’m a twenty-four seven klutz. Can’t do anything right.” You suddenly find yourself focusing on twiddling your thumbs. There, you got it out.

Steven takes some time to process the information. He doesn’t want to cut you off immediately. He knows there’s more. Silence can be powerful when used correctly.

“And I know I shouldn’t be complaining when other people have it way much tougher,” you sighed. “But my emotions are all over the place more than usual.” You look at him, a non-verbal signal for Steven that it was ok for him to speak now.

Steven always chooses his words carefully, and this time it’s no different.

“We all have different thresholds for stress love, I’m just glad you told me.” He says quietly, waiting for your reaction.

You had so much affection for this man in front of you, and now it only increased by tenfold.

“How are you so rational?”

“Takes a lot of practice.” Steven holds your hands gently, telling you to relax your body.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, love. You’re only just starting out - if there’s anytime to make mistakes, it’s now.” Hazel eyes oozing sincerity, he made you forget your worries in that moment.

“Thank you, I mean it. I know that I shouldn’t beat myself up but it’s easier said than done.” You sighed, internally blaming your mind’s tendency to go into overdrive.

“Then I’ll be there to remind you at every step of the way.”

A minute of silence passes between the two of you and in typical fashion, your stomach growls, bringing it to both of your attention. Steven chuckles.

“Hungry?”

And that’s how the two of you end up at the marbled counter top with a shared pot of piping hot ramen. Slurping the noodles from your bowl greedily, you were grateful for the spiciness.

“So, its the weekend. Anything we could do?” You knew Steven had meant well but you felt that he had already done so much.

“That’s alright Steven, you must be tired too.”

“Nah, we could do something else instead.” Steven thinks carefully. “How about that newly renovated library? Then we could get some lunch at the food court.”

He truly knew you inside out.

“I’ll love that.”

As the bowl of soup started to decrease in level, you felt oddly warm in a good way. Steven seems to be able to read your mind, as he starts to clear the dishes.

The two of you moved like clockwork, and you find yourself back in bed, more relaxed than you were. Curtains drawn, you find yourself staring at the tiny street light that found its way into your house.

“Hey Steven?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” You rolled over to face him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck.

He can’t help but to smile serenely, patting the back of your head. Steven knows that even though he can’t make all your problems disappear, he was willing to do whatever it took to make your load lighter.

But one thing he was damn sure about - he had complete faith that you could do it. And he was going to be there every step of the way.

#steven grant comfort #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven grant x reader fluff #oscar isaac #moon knight

[mymoonagedaydream]

Part 9

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout, references to domestic violence

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

---

You made yourself some coffee while you waited for Bucky, usually you were ravenous first thing in the morning but your appetite had been replaced by an uneasy knot that sat in your stomach like a rock. You had so many questions for him. It was troubling, really, how little you know about his increasingly complex past, but your determination to get him to spill his secrets was now stronger than ever.

You heard the door downstairs click open and slow footsteps crept up the stairs. Bucky appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later, looking like he was ready to call it a day on any and all matters involving deep emotions. Well, tough.

“Thanks for that,” he cautiously moved towards you, “although she does seem to think we’re all happy families over here.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It was just easier if I went along with it, plus it seemed to cheer her up a little.”

He was trying to smother a smug smile as he leant against the counter in front of you. “S’alright, it cheered me up too.”

A brief silence fell, the sound of your teaspoon clinking against the inside of your mug resonating around the whole apartment. Your mind was occupied trying to think of the most inoffensive way to compose your next sentence.

“Buck, do you mind if I asked what happened between you and your mom? You said you barely speak but, I don’t know, your relationship seems pretty good.”

“It is. I just… choose to stay away.”

Christ he was fucking cryptic, it was like trying to crack the enigma code.

“Right. Just, from the way you spoke about her, I thought maybe it was drugs or something.”

“Nah. I mean she drinks like a fish, but she’s not nearly as bad as my dad.” He glanced over and saw you raise your eyebrows at him, prompting him to continue, which he did with a sigh. “She just won’t leave him, no matter what he does. I’ve tried everything.”

“I see.”

“I love her and I help her out when I can, but it’s too hard to just stand by and watch how he treats her. I gotta keep a distance or I get sucked back in.”

“That must be really hard.”

“Don’t worry,” he forced a smile, “I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me. It’s good to talk about these things.”

“Nah, you don’t need all my shit piled on top of yours.”

He dropped his keys on the counter and moved to walk away, but you swiftly reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.

“She’s really proud of you, Buck.”

The disingenuous smile was slowly swallowed as a beaming grin spread across his face. He turned and took your hands in his, pulling you towards him, looking pleasantly surprised at your lack of resistance. He was definitely still in the doghouse, but you were ready to cut him a little slack.

“She is? No idea why.”

“Cause you’re a good guy,” the slack was used up faster than you’d expected, “when you’re not throwing punches and getting yourself arrested.”

He chuckled and cautiously wandered his hands up to your waist, ready to be swatted away at any moment. That boy could do an entire figure-skating routine on the thinnest of thin ice and not fall through.

“You’re just gonna keep bringing that up, aren’t ya?”

“Yep.”

“You ever gonna forgive me?”

“Maybe, but only after I’ve had my fun.”

“As long as you stick around you can chew me out whenever you feel like it,” he slid his hands around your back and pulled you closer to his chest, “you can try to push me away but I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fine, but if you ever pull that shit and make me crawl back to my parents again I’ll chop your balls off.”

“That’s fair.”

You just stood there for a little while, eyes closed, head resting against his chest, savouring the contentment and safety you felt in his arms. These moments of peace were so rare for the two of you, when they came along you had to hold on to them for as long as you could.

Your serenity faded after a few minutes as you found his mother’s words bleeding into the front of your mind. You wanted to look after him, you wanted to heal and care for him the best you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to make up for his past. You couldn’t fix it.

At least now, you thought, you were able to realise that everything he’d ever achieved, he’d done completely by himself. All his life he’d had no help, no support and no real reason to outgrow the life that people like your mother expected him to lead. At the very least, you were determined to change that.

Your eyes fluttered open when he eventually piped up.

“You hungry? I thought we could order food, there’s a really good-”

You cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his, apparently shocking him a little, because it took him a few seconds to reciprocate. He eventually tightened his hold around you and tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss while you moved your hands to cradle his face. You only pulled away when you had to catch your breath.

“-pizza place nearby.”

His stupid grin made you giggle, the grip around you staying firm as you strained to reach over to the drawer with the takeout menus. It was him who suggested ordering out but you weren’t able to read more than two words at a time before he’d insist on pulling your attention away.

The two of you ate in front of a movie before settling down and curling up on the couch for the evening. You were still holding onto this moment of peace, savouring every second, trying your best not to worry about how long it would last.

It was nearing midnight when Bucky’s phone started buzzing. He picked it up, giving you another forced smile and making his way over to the kitchen when he saw that it was his mother calling.

You tried your best not to eavesdrop but it was difficult in such a small apartment. He didn’t say much, he was mainly listening to her, but as the conversation progressed you could tell he was getting more and more agitated. You dreaded to think what she was saying. The only thing you could really gauge was that, at one point, she asked him for money. He told her he was pretty broke at the moment and didn’t have any to spare. You had no idea if that was the truth.

It was heart-breaking to experience the toxic side of their relationship in practice, especially after seeing all the love that his mother was capable of. He eventually said a short goodbye and trudged back to the couch. You waited for a second to see if he’d share willingly, but he just huffed, heaved his boots up onto the table and necked the rest of his beer. You were going to have to do this the hard way.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, fine.”

He gave you a short, tight smile and reached for the remote. You caught his arm. You didn’t want to force him into divulging more than he was comfortable with, but there was no way in hell that continuing to bottle up his problems would do anything other than make his anger worse. Being broke as hell just meant that you had to be each other's therapists.

“Buck.”

“It’s nothing, just…” He let out an aggravated sigh and rubbed his eyes. “She’s not pressing charges.”

“That’s not nothing. That’s a pretty valid reason to be upset.”

“It’s not like I expected anything else, this is what always happens.”

“Doesn’t mean it sucks any less.”

You shifted closer and interlaced your fingers with his, rubbing his forearm with your free hand, feeling some of the tension in his muscles settle under your touch. You were still very much testing the waters as far as talking Bucky down was concerned. You were sure that he’d calm down himself given enough time but, if you were going to move in here properly, you’d prefer not to have walls full of holes.

“Like I said,” he lulled his head backwards and let out an exhausted chuckle, “used to it.”

He was defeated. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse than angry.

“She’ll realise you’re right, eventually. She just had to take that first step herself.”

“Mhmm. I just hope she does it before…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence, you both knew how it was going to end, and it wasn’t worth thinking about. You just needed to take his mind off it for now.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t know when to shut up half of the time, you’re surprisingly hard to get information out of.”

He let a reluctant smile spread across his face. “Good job you’re a ruthless interrogator then.”

---

The next few days were surprisingly calm. You were actually able to spend some quality time together and unwind a little, just about managing to ignore the sixty-four missed calls from your parents and the texts inquiring about spare money from his.

Bucky went out to work whenever repair jobs came up, leaving you with free reign of the flat for hours at a time. He never noticed the subtle changes you’d make while he was out. The decoration wasn’t particularly bad, it just didn’t really… exist. It was your typical bare bones bachelor pad, you were convinced he hadn’t made any significant changes since moving in apart from a pile of magazines and a couple of suspicious stains on the carpet.

When your parents finally gave up, and when enough time had passed since the visit from Bucky’s mother, it felt for the first time like maybe everything could turn out alright. All the problems you’d faced seemed to be receding further and further and you hoped they would no longer be able penetrate the walls of this cosy little life you’d built.

So it was all the more disappointing when that turned out not to be the case.

---

You woke to the sound of Bucky’s alarm. Stretching a little, you shifted and felt his body pressed up against the back of yours, arms firmly wrapped around you. He reached over to shut the sound off, groaned dramatically and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He did this every morning.

“Man, I do not want to leave this bed.”

His words were muffled against your skin. You rolled onto your back and brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, smiling at the deep marks left on his cheek by the creases in the sheets. The two of you must’ve slept like logs, barely moving all night.

“Stay then.”

“I’ve got places to go,” his head disappeared as he ducked down and started placing soft kisses below your ear, “there’s a big job today, could be a few hundred bucks.”

You frowned and abruptly grabbed his head, lifting it away from you. “Hundreds?”

“Mhmm.”

“Jesus Christ, go.”

“Didn’t peg you as a gold digger.”

You scoffed and tried to push him out of bed, eventually relenting when he ferociously clawed his way back to you. “You could use some restraint, Barnes.”

“I’m not a saint.”

His hands dove underneath your shirt and you gasped at the sensation of his cold skin against yours. He smiled, eyeing you intently, and you just melted under his gaze. It must’ve been fifteen minutes later when he finally got up and headed to work. You guessed it was that long, anyway, but you hadn’t exactly been counting.

You had a day of solid lounging around planned. You thought maybe you’d take a walk into town later, but you were only willing to risk it during the hours you knew your parents would be working. Bumping into them would be the cherry on top of a fucking stressful couple of weeks.

Maybe you’d just stay in.

---

Midday came and went. Bucky had been gone for hours, you’d cleaned the whole apartment and were swiftly making your way through the pile of dirty laundry when the doorbell sounded. You shuffled over to the window, straining to try and catch a glimpse of your guest. All you could make out was the top of a head. They pressed the doorbell again.

Psyching yourself up with a deep breath, you tiptoed downstairs and cautiously inched the door open. It was the blonde from the bar, the one who got Bucky thrown in jail.

“What the hell do you want?” The severity in your voice shocked you a little.

“Calm down, suburbs,” he gave a smug chuckle, “I wanna talk to Bucky.”

“About what?”

He narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, stretching his arms out and bracing himself against the door frame. You instinctively shrunk back, tightening your grip on the open door, ready to slam it shut at a moment’s notice.

“I’d rather just speak to him, sweetheart.”

“He’s not here, but if he was I’m sure he’d just tell you to fuck off.”

A sinister, calculating look spread over his face. “You’re here all on your own?”

The shift in his tone made your entire body tense up. You immediately defaulted into fight or flight mode, forcing the door closed as quickly as you could. Somehow he moved faster, shoving his foot into the gap and letting out an irritated grunt when the door slammed into it. You felt him pushing against the other side of the wood.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you saw his fingers emerge through the gap and curl round the edge of the door, “I just wanna talk.”

Summoning strength from god knows where, you stomped down on his foot with all your weight. When it jerked out of the gap, you rammed your shoulder hard against the door, hearing the cracking of fingers followed by loud yelp. He pulled his hand free and you swiftly turned the lock.

He was still shouting and banging on the door as you scrambled upstairs, your shaky knees collapsing underneath you as you burst back into the flat. Crawling over to the window and peeking out, you saw him limping away down the street, cradling his injured hand against his chest. You breathed out for what felt like the first time in ten minutes, remnants of your adrenaline rush making your head spin.

Despite your overwhelming panic, you couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with yourself, cause that was pretty fucking badass. You felt like you could take on the world.

You considered calling Bucky, but figured that as long as you didn’t answer the door again, you should be alright until he finishes. You didn’t want him to rush home and miss out on a couple hundred dollars for no good reason. It would be much easier to fill him in after you’d had some time to think about it and to calm down a bit, anyway.

---

Part 10

---

#bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky au #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #biker!bucky x you #biker!bucky x y/n #biker!bucky au #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #Marvel AU #marvel fanfiction

[thesafecafe]

ATEEZ: WOULD YOU RATHER

If you want to know what my personal dynamics and kinks are, then keep reading! Would you rather, Ateez edition, let’s go! 

✧ NSFW under the cut! ✧

1. make out with Yeosang or dry hump Yunho?

make out with Yeosang. I like the idea of a slow, heated make-out session, and taking time to explore each other, +  I would never pass up the chance to kiss Yeosang, lmao.

2. Give Mingi a lap dance or have Wooyoung do a sexy dance for you?

Give Mingi a lap dance. I’d love to see his expressions, especially if he’s feeling the vibes, it would give me the confidence I needed to bring out my inner dancer. I can’t really sexy dance, but I’d learn for Mingi.

3. Tease San under the table at dinner or Jongho tease you under the table?

Jongho teasing me under the table. I feel like I can keep a straight face in most situations, and I wanna see how far he’d go, and how long I could keep my composure.

4. Give hickeys to Yeosang or get hickeys from Seonghwa?

(both), but give hickies to Yeosang. I like the idea of marking up your partner, painting their skin in such pretty colors, letting them and others know they’re yours. 

5. praise Hongjoong or receive body worship from Yunho?

See, this goes both ways, cause I like both of these things, but I’ll go for praising Hongjoong. That man goes through much on a daily basis, and I’d like to tell him how good of a job he’s doing, in or out of the bedroom.

6. blindfold Mingi or be blindfolded by San?

blindfold Mingi. I wanna see this big, handsome man at my mercy, but also trusting me enough to leave his pleasure in my hands. 

7. sexting with Wooyoung or send dirty snaps to Seonghwa?

sexting with Wooyoung. I think it would be easier, plus I like people describing what they’d do/want to do to me. Use your words for me, express your darkest, deepest desires, all your hidden fantasies. I want it all

8. choke Yeosang or be choked by Jongho?

choke Yeosang. Being choked isn’t really my thing, but if he wanted it, I’m all for it. I may have small hands, but they are powerful.

9. pull Hongjoong’s hair or Yunho pull your hair?

pull Hongjoong’s hair. Especially if it’s grown out a bit.

10. tie up Wooyoung or Jongho tie you up?

tie up Wooyoung. What can I say, I like being in charge, and I’d like to see how he’d react. Will he be good, or will he be a brat? Only one way to find out.

11. beg for Seonghwa or Mingi beg for you?

Mingi beg for me. I like the thought of such a big, intimidating man begging for me in that beautiful deep voice of his.

12. ride Jongho’s thigh or sit on San’s face?

Sit on San’s face. He’s pretty, and imagine he kept eye contact while you’re up there? With those loving and/or crazy eyes, depending on his mood? Sign me up.

13. dirty talk with Seonghwa or Mingi?

both, but mostly Mingi. I am a sucker for his voice, especially when it gets lower, and it’s all raspy and deep, I love it.

14. spank Wooyoung or Hongjoong?

spank Hongjoong. I know, usually people would say Wooyoung, but I feel like if it got to that point with Hongjoong, he’d probably be pretty submissive by then, and I wanna hear his moans/cries. (+ have you seen his butt? he’s got cake for days, I could watch it for hours).

15. get spanked by Jongho or Yunho?

not a big fan of being spanked, but if I had to choose, Jongho. He has the power to make you fall apart after a few smacks I think.

16. deny San his orgasm or Seonghwa deny you yours?

both, but I don’t like denying people so much, so I think Seonghwa denying me would be fine. It would make the build up better anyway.

17. have Yeosang as a master or Hongjoong as a pet?

have Yeosang as a master. Now usually, I’m not one to read/indulge in too much master/pet roleplay/dynamics, but I think Yeosang would probably be good at it, and good at taking care of his submissive.

18. touch yourself and make Yunho watch or Mingi touch himself and make you watch?

watch Mingi. I’d like to see him put on show, and to see who breaks first, me or him.

19. call Hongjoong ‘daddy’ or Seonghwa call you ‘mommy’?

Seonghwa calling me mommy. I like the title, plus I may or may not have a kink for it, still exploring that part of things lmao. But I am down for the baby boy Seonghwa agenda.

20. receive aftercare from San or give aftercare to Wooyoung?

Both. I like taking care of people and I like being taken care of, so giving aftercare and/or receiving it is all fine with me.

21. skype sex with Hongjoong or phone sex with Yeosang?

phone sex with Yeosang. I uh, I don’t think I need to explain further.

22. one night stand with Mingi or friends with benefits with Wooyoung?

one night stand with Mingi. Knowing me, friends with benefits wouldn’t work, I’d really fuck around and find out that I had feelings for him, and I cannot take that risk.

23. studio sex with Hongjoong or practice room sex with Yunho?

studio sex with Hongjoong. Please, allow me to make as much noise as possible in a sound proof room, and let me be the background track to whatever new song he’s working on. Deja Vu 2.0 anyone?

24. receive nudes from Seonghwa or a sexy video from San?

receive nudes from Seonghwa. Y’all have seen him right? Right? good.

25. cowgirl position with Jongho or doggystyle position with Yeosang?

ds style with Yeosang. For several reasons.

26. hot tub sex with Mingi or shower sex with Yunho?

hot tub sex with Mingi. Hot water, hot boy, easy clean up. Also, I’m kinda lazy, so let me sit down, lmao.

27. give oral to Yeosang or receive oral from San?

both. giving and receiving pleasure at the same sounds like a good idea to me.

28. Seonghwa cum in your mouth or Wooyoung cum on your face?

neither, I prefer if their release was in me, not on me or my lips/tongue.

29. car sex with San or sex under the stars with Yeosang?

sex under the stars with Yeosang. I mean, a beautiful view, great lighting, and it’s kinda romantic imo. To let only the stars see your love, lmao. 

30. take Mingi’s virginity or Yunho take yours?

both. To be honest, my virgin ass wouldn’t mind either way, but most likely Mingi, since I feel like we both wouldn’t judge each other for being inexperienced.

31. library sex with Wooyoung or movie theatre handjob with Yeosang?

theatre handjob with Yeosang. I love the movie theatre, it’s dark, it’s comfy, and if you go to see an old/niche movie, chances are, no one is going to be there with you, and if they are, the noise from the movie should block out any of his moans,

32. lazy morning sex with Yunho or late night sex with Jongho?

late night sex with Jongho. I’m a night owl anyway, and have trouble sleeping, so what better way than to help get me there?

33. wear a collar for Seonghwa or San wear a collar for you?

San wearing a collar for me. I’d get him only the prettiest kind to go with his stage outfits.

34. rough sex with Hongjoong or romantic sex with Jongho?

romantic sex with Jongho. I’m not into anything too rough, light and romantic intimacy is more my style.

35. receive anal from Seonghwa or give anal to Mingi?

neither. It’s not my thing. I might try pegging in the future, but rn, nah.

36. suck on Yunho’s fingers or San suck on your fingers?

San suck on my fingers. Extra lubrication can’t hurt, plus testing his gag reflex would be fun.

38. Hongjoong finger you or give Yeosang a handjob?

both. I really like the idea of being crowded up against the wall, or being made to watch in the mirror as you get ruined. 

37. wall sex with Jongho or mirror sex with Wooyoung?

both. I repeat, b-o-t-h. I will settle for nothing less.

39. overstimulate Mingi or be overstimulated by Wooyoung?

both. I like the idea of both. Make me a mess or let me make you a mess, either way. Someone is getting ruined.

40. Woosan threesome or Seongjoong threesome?

You know what, I like to live on the edge, so Woosan threesome. Demon + thot line combined with these two, and I’m ready to see what they’re about.

_______________________________________________________________ ׂ

Thank you to the lovely @nateezfics for tagging me, I had fun! 

And I’d like to tag @minhyuuk​ , and all my other lovely Ateez writer/Atiny blogs that follow me to participate as well! (had a few slight problems with coloring the choices, but oh well). 

#ateez #ateez would you rather #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x black reader #ateez x poc reader #kpop smut #kpop ambw

[boysbellyrubs]

How about Caine's sick and really burpy. He's burping constantly and the burps are helping hi m feel a bit better. But one burp brings up a wave of vomit. You can choose the caretaker.

another request, so I think I'm just gonna open them. I'm still busy tho so if they take ages to come out that's why :(. anyway, sorry for the wait on this one anon, but I hope you enjoy.

Sorry it's a bit short too, I hope it still meets your standards :)

---

This was hell. God was giving him the free trial of Hell, Caine mused, as he was stuck in his bed with a brutal case of food poisoning. Earlier, he had decided to go to a cafe, to treat himself for breakfast when things took a turn for the worse. A few hours later, his stomach was cramping and bubbling and he felt like he was melting under the sun’s gaze. Thankfully, Lincoln had been with him to take him home. 

He was never going to eat chicken and brie toasties again. He groaned as another cramp twisted his insides. His belly was bloated like no other, and he was too dizzy to stand so he couldn’t even go to the bathroom without Lincoln guiding him like he was 80. 

“Please kill me, Link. I can’t do this.” He moaned. 

Lincoln looked up from his phone, “No can do, I can’t pay rent myself. And, you’ll be fine, this'll be over by tomorrow.” 

“How do you know? What if it lasts a week?” He shouted. 

Lincoln came to the side of the bed, “Well lucky you have me here to look after you. How are you feeling actually?” 

Caine opened his eyes and the room spun. Groaning, “Terrible. The room is spinning and my stomach feels like there’s a bubble machine in there.” 

“Hm. Do you want some stomach medicine?” He paused, frowning, “I don’t think we have any actually, I’ll probably have to go buy some.” 

Caine weighed up his options. He didn’t feel like he was gonna puke, but he didn’t want to risk putting anything in his stomach. But, he felt like there was a creature trying to crawl out of him, so maybe some medicine would help with the pain. He could deal with being alone for a few minutes. 

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” 

Caine felt Lincoln’s smile, and then a hand pushed away his sweaty bangs, “I’ll be right back.” 

Now that Lincoln had left, Caine allowed himself to make a lot more noise. He whined, and tossed around in his bed, moaning to no one and mumbling to himself. He hated this. With one twist of his body, he felt a bubble gurgle up his throat and he burped, dry and small. It sort of helped. 

He frowned, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. He tried to rub his stomach to force a burp up, but it didn’t do much. So he pushed harder and another gurgle ripped upwards and out his mouth. He sighed, that one felt even better. He continued, pushing on the tense parts of his belly and letting himself burp. His stomach got the memo and became more bubbly and loud, so the burps were easier to bring up. 

Caine felt some hope, maybe this would be gone by tomorrow. His stomach was just as bloated, but it was sloshing a bit with the undigested food. He burped more, groaning with relief. 

“Fuck, I’m so gross.” He mumbled. He stopped pushing, now only listening to the gurgles coming from his belly. Now without his hands, it felt like it was churning and digesting. 

Oh, but poor, sweet Caine was so wrong. 

The burps didn’t need to be forced up now, his belly doing all the work for him. As he lay there, each one became wetter and splashed small amounts of stomach acid into his mouth. Now he was beginning to panic, fuck he felt like he was going to vomit. 

He sat up, one hand rested precariously on his stomach. It sloshed and he groaned, he belched again as he got upright. He had fucked up now. The churning was an indicator of how upset his stomach was, and every burp kept sending up waves of bile. He gagged, stomach heaving inward. 

“Shit, god I’m gonna throw up.” 

The next burp gurgled up his throat, sounding like he was drowning and he slapped a hand over his mouth. His throat burned with the feeling of vomit. He groaned, and felt another burp crawl up his oesophagus. God, he felt sick. A loud gurgle filled the silence and he belched once more and he finally couldn’t hold it back anymore. 

Vomit sprayed from his lips, shooting through the gaps in his fingers and dribbling down his chin. And on to the bed. He groaned, out of frustration this time. Before he could think to move, another gag hit him and he moved his hand out of the way for the thick liquid to splatter onto the sheets, pooling in his lap. 

He barely had time to breathe when another burp burst from his lips and brought up more undigested toastie and coffee. His stomach was cramping so hard he had to fight from falling forward into the mess. A high pitched whine came from the depths of his belly and he coughed up a final lot of spew, spit dangling from his lips. 

“Oh, fuck. What happened?” 

Lincoln, of course, had come back with the medicine and was standing in his doorway with a bewildered expression on his face. 

“I fucked up.” Caine said, one hand hovering above the sheets dripping with vomit, and the other clutching at his gurgling belly. He didn’t even bother explaining, the puddle of his breakfast was enough of an explanation. 

#emeto #emetophilia #stomach ache #burping #food poisoning #Caine #Lincoln #bloating #gurgling

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Since we now have tydii smut it’s only fair we get finlett smut

I mean, we've gotta be fair with our filth, right?

~~

*after Fin gets out of the med bay, before the Ra'haam gets to Aurora station*

“Hey, can we go back to a conversation that was interrupted?” Fin asks as they lay together in his bed, facing one another, his hand stroking her hair. Scarlett’s eyes fluttered open and met his.

“Sure, which one?” She responds and then considers. “Is this about my kind of botched declaration of love for you while we were in the DM storm? I had hoped you were too injured to remember,” she says and he smiles and shakes his head, blushing a little.

“Um, no, I was hoping we could continue our conversation about you taking my shirt off?” he asks, his voice cracking on the last word, which he chooses to blame on his recent run in with a tracheotomy and not his desperation to be touched by his girlfriend whose curves are pressing tight to him and have been for the last five nights she has snuck into his bed because she couldn’t sleep in her own.

Scarlett considers his words and runs her fingers over the small scar in his neck.

“Only if that conversation includes you taking my shirt off. Would this be easier if we turned the grav off in here?” she asked and he smiles at her in silent thanks for her consideration. 

“Let’s not. I don’t know a lot about sex, but I imagine if we turn the grav off, we’ll probably fly into a few walls,” she nods at his reasoning. “That being said, I don’t want it to suck for you so...” he trails and she frowns, before kissing him.

“Hey, I just care that I’m with you. And if there’s any sucking to be done, it probably won’t be by you,” she says and they both blush and laugh a little.

“Okay,” he aquiesces. “Um, so my exo has release buttons at the left hip for the bottom half and at my neck for the top. Their pretty easy to get off but I’ll help you. After it’s off, I won’t be able to move great, but I trust you and we’ll figure it out, right?” Scarlett nods and brings his hand up so she can kiss his knuckles.

“Thank you for trusting me,” she says before leaning in and kissing him. Scarlett’s kiss is heavy, and her hands start to wander from his cheeks, into his hair, down his neck and back. 

Her body presses into his and he has never felt it as much as he does now. His hands find her ribs and travel from their, his right diving greedily under her sleep shorts to cup her ass, his left finding it’s way up her shirt, his hand caressing her breast, fingers skimming her nipple in a way that makes her gasp. He takes the chance to move his lips down to her neck, kissing and nipping the soft skin there.

Scarlett’s fingers weave into his hair and very firmly, pulls him closer and he is happy to oblige. Her gasps get a little breathier as he sucks a hickey onto her neck and his fingers continue on her breast.

“Fin,” she calls him to attention and he hums in acknowledgment. “My shirt,” she says and he pulls up a little, kissing her jaw before meeting her eyes.

“You want me to take it off?” she nods and he tilts his head. “Say please,” he says. She looks so momentarily surprised, he almost wonders if he did something wrong. He opens his mouth to apologise but doesn’t get a chance before her mouth closes on his own briefly.

“Please Fin, please take my shirt off so that you can kiss my tits,” she says, the look in her eyes very clear. Two can play at this game.

Breathing heavily, Fin gripped the hem of her shirt and tugged it, leaning up on an elbow and pulling it up, his palm sliding the whole way up her sides, making her breath hitch.

He grinned when her shirt was finally off and he can get a good look at her.

“Scar, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning over her and kissing her, pouring all of his feelings into her. 

Eventually, his lips travel down until he can wrap his lips around her breast and she lets out a little moan. One of his hands reaches down further, sliding back into her sleep shorts.

“Scarlett,” he says and she looks down at him, her eyes bright. “Can you show me how to touch you?” He whispers and her lips part. Her hand covers his own, guiding him between where her thighs parted. His mouth opens in surprise to feel how wet she is and she giggles at the surprise.

Her laughter is short lived and quickly becomes a loud moan as his fingers find a small nub and he rubs. His mouth returns to her breast and his fingers continue to rub this spot and just like that, his girlfriend is putty in his arms.

He continues like that as her moans and utterances of his name peak and then, just like that, Scarlett tenses, her legs shakes and her back bows from the bed. His fingers feel a gush from her and her hand pushes him away.

“Are you okay?” he asks and between the hard breaths she is taking, she turns her beautiful blue eyes to him.

“You’ve never seen a girl orgasm, huh?” she asks and he shakes his head. She doesn’t say more, just grins. He doesn’t mind, is more than happy to watch her chest as she tries to catch her breath.

“Fin?” she says eventually and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Can you please take my shorts off before they get all ruined?” he jumps to action, kneeling over her to pull her shorts down and off, revealing the glistening opening between her legs.

It looks fruit like. He wants to eat it. 

He doesn’t get a chance as Scarlett pulls him to kiss her, which he will never deny her.

She guides him to lay on his back. Her hands rest on his neck and make him look at her.

“Can I take your suit off?” she asks, so soft and gentle, and he takes a breath and nods. He trusts her with this. She sits up onto her feet and he enjoys the view as she searches and finds the button to release his suit on his hip.

It feels weird for someone else to take his suit off, but he also feels so safe with Scarlett that his nerves are gone.

Although, he’s realising as she’s brushing her hands over his hips that maybe he’s just thinking with his dick, which is overjoyed and rock hard at his girlfriend’s attention. 

He feels the bottom half of his exo come all the way off and then Scarlett’s hands find the button on his neck. He feels when the exo releases and his breath hitches a little, making Scarlett give him a reassuring kiss.

“It’s okay if you want to stop, or if you wanna turn the grav off,” she whispers and he knows she means it without being patronising. He leans up a little to kiss her before letting her finally take the last of his exo off.

“Fin,” Scarlett is kneeling between his legs and he smiles at her. “It’s very rude that your not nearly as naked as I,” she pouts a little and he grins.

“Well, you’re welcome to fix that, love,” he says and she grins, her hands finding his shirt and greedily pulling it up, gently, pulling it over his head. She throws it to the floor and within a blink, her hands are working on the ties of his sweatpants.

He hisses a little as she pulls his pants and boxers down in one go, his dick bobbing up to hit his stomach. He wants to cover his face and groan as the air hits his erection, but instead he watches Scar stare at it.

“You’re gonna make me self conscious if you keep staring at Little Finian like that,” he jokes and she looks up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t think you can call it little anything,” she says, then smirks, “you never fail to surprise me, Fin,” he raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t hide his smile.

“I won’t pretend to not be a little happy you think my dick is big, but Scar, can you please stop looking?” he requests and she quirks her lip and leans over him, brushing their noses together but not kissing him.

“Fine, but I’m coming back to get to know him better later.” She pauses and considers, kissing his cheek. “Can your chest take my weight without the exo?” He shakes his head and she shrugs, grabs his shoulder and rolls them so they lie chest-to-chest as they were to begin with.

Scarlett wiggles closer until there is truly no space between them and then throws her leg over his. Fin hisses as his dick comes into contact with the wetness between his girlfriend’s legs and she grins at him.

“So, since you were packing more than I expected, this may be a little uncomfy for me at first so give me a second, okay?” Scarlett says and he nods, kissing her.

“Well, I’m not doing much moving as is, so you take the time you need, sweetheart.”

Her hands are soft and warm when her fingers wrap around his erection and she shifts a little, finding her entrance and beginning to shift her hips to accept him into her. Fin watches her face as she does it, trying to scan and catalogue every expression, including those of discomfort. He kisses her over and over and tries not to be overwhelmed by how good it feels to be inside her.

“Are you okay?” he asks as she finally finishes taking him. She takes a breath, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m okay, just need a sec. You?”

“Trying very hard not to make a short stamina-ed fool of myself,” he says, laughing a little. She sighs breathily at the movement his laughter creates inside her. 

Seeming to decide something, Scarlett grabs his butt, moves back off his erection and then thrusts back in. Fin groans at the same time that Scarlett moans. His girlfriend doesn’t waste time after that, using her hands on his body to thrust herself onto his dick.

He doesn’t feel any pain from the moving, and if he does, it is vastly overridden by the feeling of having Scarlett Jones taking her pleasure from him. He focusses on kissing her and fondling her breast with his stiff fingers, because if he focusses on the warmth and the heat and the pressure of her, he would come.

Their kisses become broken by Scarlett’s moaning and he smiles, keeps kissing her, and moves his hand down to put some pressure on her clit.

When she releases a surprised “yes!” at the action, Fin grins and rubs in tight circles, Scarlett’s eyes going wider and then scrunching tight as she crushes their lips together. She is coming all over his dick and hand within seconds.

Fin groans at the feeling of her orgasm squeezing around him and that peak he was trying to hold off can no longer be helped and his hips buck involuntarily as he spills inside of her.

They both shudder through their orgasms, clinging tonight to one another. Eventually, they stop shaking and Scarlett opens her eyes to meet his. Fin kisses her, softly, chastely, and she responds with a gentle press back.

“That was...” he starts.

“Wow,” Scarlett finishes and he nods. He gently moves his hips away to disconnect them, but she stops him. “Just stay for a bit,” she whispers, crowding closer to him again.

“Okay. Love you,” he whispers and she nods, her eyelids drooping. 

“Love you,” she hums unintelligibly back, making him smile.

“Sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” She smiles at the words, tucks her head under his chin and her breath evens out a second later. Smiling, he wraps his arms around her and buries his nose into her hair, falling asleep not long after.

~~

I meant for this to be more tender than it was idk

#aurora cycle #scarlett jones #fin de karran de seel

[wisterialilies]

Event Special for @hanaposa12

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Hello hello!! It’s good to see you again! :D Thank you so much for your kind words and for participating in my event! I hard time deciding Floyd and Ruggie for type 2 since they both seemed to compliment your personality well, so I ended up choosing one then using the other for type 1, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy~ <33

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･

You’ve got a letter from…Floyd Leech!

Someone knocks frantically on your dorm room’s door and when you answer it, you see a first-year student standing there. He looks nervous as he quickly thrusts an envelope into your hands. “Y-You better tell F-Floyd that you got this, o-okay?!” Without waiting for your answer, he takes off down the hall, muttering something about needing to get back to work or get squeezed.

…What was that about? Oh well, no matter. You examine the envelope you’ve received. It’s black and your name is written at the front with purple ink. There’s also a seashell logo at the bottom right corner. Huh, has Azul started selling stationary now? Well, that'd be no surprise. You open it and inside is a single page of paper. It’s mostly white with black boarders, thank goodness. It’s definitely easier to read purple ink on white paper rather than black, after all.

The contents of the letter read…

Dear Angel,

Bet you’re surprised to get a letter from me, huh? I saw Jade writing one probably some sort of threatening message, ahaha and it looked interesting, so I decided to write one too. Good thing I have you, otherwise there’d be no one else fun to write to.

Anyway, you’re wondering why I’m calling you ‘Angel’ all of a sudden, aren’t you? See, Azul just had a bunch of angelfish delivered to Mostro Lounge and they’re all so pink and cute. Reminded me of you. Oh, and they glow in the dark too. Azul’s planning to display them in the lounge’s aquarium. Probably hoping it’ll bring in more customers.

I dunno though. I saw them before, in the ocean, and they looked prettier hanging around the other glow-in-the-dark fishies – like those silver Moon Pufferfish and Golden Spotted Stingrays. But I guess land-dwellers won’t know what they’re missing out on. Their loss, ahaha. Don’t worry! I’ll show you the real deal next time. Doesn’t that sound like fun? A night date in the ocean where it’s just us and the fishies.

But for now, you’ll just have to stick with what we’ve got up here. Oh yeah, you were probably studying before you got my letter, right? When you’re done, come down to Mostro Lounge. Make sure to bring your art stuff. I think you’ll like drawing the new fish. And you’ll get a complimentary drink too! Just don’t let Azul see you or he’ll make you pay for it.

See you soon, my cute Angel!

- Floyd

P.S. That sardine better have delivered my letter properly. If he didn’t, I'll make sure to give him a good ol' squeezin’.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･

What your relationship would be like with...Ruggie Bucchi!

- Alright, so starting off, Ruggie would love how easy it is to make you laugh. He’ll crack jokes often – both good and bad ones – just to get a laugh out of you. He probably has a stash of joke books hidden away in his room too, having gotten them just to learn a few more jokes for you. Oh yeah, he also discovered a new way to pester Leona by telling him some godawful jokes.

- He thinks your ability to remember even the smallest of things is very useful. Sometimes he wishes he has the same talent; maybe serving Leona would become easier if he did. He’ll also get a bit bashful when you remember small details about him, since he doesn’t think there’s much in particular about himself that’s really worth remembering. It’ll definitely make him feel loved though.

- When Ruggie first saw how often you compliment people, he thought you were doing it to butter up to them. After all, for him, he sees everything as a dog-eat-dog world and the only time he would compliment someone was if he wanted to get something out of them – with you and his granny being the only exceptions, of course. So after he realizes you’re being genuine and your compliments come straight from the heart, Ruggie can’t help but worry a bit. At some point, someone is bound to try and take advantage of your kindness – or so he believes. Though he won't try to change your view on others nor force his beliefs onto you, he’ll often remind you to be more wary around people.

- Ruggie will be great at helping you keep from procrastinating. It’s one of the many skills he’s picked up after serving Leona for so long. But if he notices that you’ve been working particularly hard and need a break, he’ll make sure that you relax and rest up properly. Heck, he’ll even do your work for you if it’s time sensitive.

- Though he tries not to show it, Ruggie can be pretty skittish at times. He’s as easily startled by loud noises and jump scares as you. He won’t jump or scream, but he’ll stiffen up and his ears will flatten as close to his head as possible. It’s actually pretty cute, so it can serve as a distraction for you whenever the both of you get startled.

- No need to worry about him telling you scary stories! He doesn’t even like hearing about them in the first place. Well, to be more exact, he doesn’t like the effect they have on him. He’ll be perfectly fine when you tell it to him and be not at all frightened. But afterwards, when the story begins repeating in his head, that’s when he starts to get paranoid. He’ll be more jumpy than usual and will most definitely be glued to your side. And no, he will not admit that he’s scared. Ruggie will vehemently deny it and insist that he’s the same as always. Great way to get him to stick to you for a few days though, if that's what you want.

- He isn’t a big fan of rainy days as he finds it unpleasant to get wet, so he’s always more than happy to spend the time indoors with you. Since rainy days set a great mood when it comes to writing mystery novels, I can easily picture you working on one while Ruggie lounges next to you with one of your plushies in his hands, sometimes just staring up at the ceiling and listening to your pen scratching against the paper, and other times reading over your shoulder and offering you ideas.

- When it comes to shopping for cute clothes, it’s a territory he’s completely unfamiliar with. Before he started dating you, there was not a single time where he had to do such a thing. So although he’ll gladly tag along during your shopping trips, don’t expect to get any fashion advice from him. For Ruggie, anything and everything looks wonderful on you.

- Now, plushies. For some reason, I think Ruggie would love gifting them to you. If you didn't have a collection before, you'll end up with one after you start dating him. And anytime you two ever pass by a claw machine while on a date, you can bet that he’ll become determined to win you a plushie. And surprisingly – or not – he’s quite good at playing claw machine games. Then again, he has to be if he wants to keep the machine from sucking up his money.

- Going out with you on a sunny day so you can draw any plants or animals that catch your eye is one of his favorite things to do. Not only does he get to spend time with you, but he also gets to eat! That’s right, eat. Don’t be surprised if you look up from your sketchbook and see him munching on some freshly picked dandelions. For him, food is one thing he can be absolutely shameless about, no matter whom he’s with. It’s not always bad though. Sometimes he’ll share some edible wild fruits he found and they can be quite delicious.

- Leona occasionally comments on how you’re too good to be Ruggie’s girlfriend, but it never fazes Ruggie. As a matter of fact, he feels proud every time he hears something like that. Proud that he can call such an earnest, kindhearted, and cheerful person like you his partner. Out of all the guys you could have chosen to date, you chose him – him, a hyena from the slums. Though he doesn’t quite understand what made you pick him in the first place, he understands how lucky he is and works hard to make sure he’s worthy of staying by your side.

#100 followers event #I made up the pufferfish & stingray but the angelfish actually exists #Apparently it really does glow in the dark #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland matchup #floyd leech #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland ruggie #twistd wonderland floyd

[radicalagnostic]

Ok, before I get on with this, I need to list out a few things.

I am writing this down on a google doc first and foremost. I’ll copy paste it. It’s just easier this way for me.

I do not have access to the unofficial collection. This is because my computer only has 2 GB of space left and runs like a turtle with polio.

The update schedule for this will likely be inconsistent. I have plans this summer, and I don’t want to force myself into routines that will obstruct my normal life.

Finally, the J Egbert thing. I’m choosing to use they/them to refer to Egbert so I don’t alienate anyone, because I know people feel very passionately about them to say the least.

And, without further ado, into the vortex I return.

6/12/22 6:18 PM EST

It's funny how this comic is now just as old as the main characters are in the beginning. I personally learned about it first in 2018… when I was 10 years old. I remember the gifs scared me away. This has really not much to do with anything, it’s just kinda funny.

Honestly, I completely forgot Egbert had an interest in programming. I don’t think the comic expanded on it much

Ah yes, the Problem Sleuth poster on Egbert’s wall (with a direct link to Topatoco no less.)

Maybe...just maybe…if we-

No.

God I love the way this is written. “BIRTHDAY ARTIFACT”. Yeah no sorry guys I don’t say “presents” anymore, these are my fucking BIRTHDAY ARTIFACTS (all caps).

I forgot you could merge cards. Did anyone actually do that? I don’t think so.

You know, earlier this year I tried to get my older sister to watch ConAir with me on 4/13. We never finished it because she said it was racist and Nicolas Cage freaked her out. The latter brings me joy to this day.

I find it funny that Homestuck BETA is semi-canon. God, Homestuck BETA freaks me out. Why the fuck are they so smooth? It’s so incorrect.

Ok, real talk. How is Egbert even alive? How often does this kid eat cake, seriously? Get them some nutrition, asap.

What a beautiful desktop. My favorite addition is AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH. ~ATH

That file must contain nothing but quality.

(ran out of image room, so I'll post the second part of this separately)

(btw, if it isn't obvious, this was written yesterday. My tag for these things is gonna be "rez reads hs")

#radicalramblings #hs #i dont think this counts as a 'liveblog' since i wrote it yesterday in a google doc #it's certainly... something #rez reads hs

[dearrami]

Dear Rami,

I struggle to find things to say to you some days, there’s often so much on my mind but so little progress forward to speak of. I don’t even have a plan, but it sounds as though you do. I wish we could communicate with each other more clearly and directly, though I suppose sometimes it seems as though I can truly hear you inside my mind.

It feels as though I’m running in circles at high speed, going nowhere fast and with great effort. I guess the past few days that feeling of defeat and fatigue has been getting to me, as it often does. I still feel SO sure that we are heading into a new Era, and soon, despite the evidence that we’re all still so stuck, and all those around me that assure me that I’m wrong, and there will be no great change in my lifetime, or that what I wish for will come at too high a cost. I agree that it will come at great cost, but I think the cost of trying to maintain a status quo that was never sustainable is much higher, especially since it should be clear to us all now that that status quo is crumbling beneath our feet. Why do so many still seem to trust in such rotten foundations that we can feel and see rotting and eroding beneath us like the floorboards of an old dilapidated house? Why can’t they see that the damage is only made worse the longer these issues go unaddressed? We could have a much smoother and easier rebuilding process with much less destruction and much less repair work if we only addressed the rot as soon as it was discovered.

I struggle with feeling so tired and disenchanted with this planet and these people, every day. I guess because it so often feels that we not only aren’t worthy of saving, but that we actively choose to destroy each other and ourselves. It’s hard to want better for people who wish you and themselves harm and don’t want any better for themselves or anyone else. I know that’s not true of every one of us, I’m proof of that and so are many others I’ve encountered. But it seems we’d rather tell ourselves fiction and wait for fictional heroes than to do the work to become our own. A hard pill for me to swallow daily. I still hope every day that I’ll be “beamed up” and taken “home”. But of course, the deepest parts of me know that there is no “home” to return to. Or, perhaps not one I’d be glad to see again. I think the only “going home” I can hope for now is coming home to myself. Gathering up and returning to myself all the scattered pieces of me from across a vast universe of pain and returning to the wholeness that scares me so. But I can’t fear that now. The alternative has become worse. If the worst is true and we are truly doomed, then I would rather perish whole and together than in pieces, each of us alone. I think, despite how hard it is to admit this or face the difficulties this truth brings, I think that Coral was right. That this is, in fact, the time and place, the world and the lifetime, for me to call us all home together. Home to ourselves, because what else is left? And we will survive together to learn to thrive or we will perish together, finally at peace with the acceptance of obliteration. I think we have to face all we feared up until now, even if all that’s left to do is succumb. I can no longer justify all it takes just to simply survive, and for what? For what, exactly? I think… I think we had to do what we had to, to survive until now, but now we must return to one another to become strong enough to overcome it all together. Or to finally fail together. Only, I don’t quite yet know where to begin…

- Ruby

(et al)

[girldigital]

spinning around

Currently violently hangover at work. I’ve honestly never had to work in this state in the past but I guess that’s what happens when you schedule a work party on a Wednesday.

We gathered for some free beers in the backyard then walked on over to a lovely degustation at a Camberwell Chinese joint. I’ve said it in the past and I’ll say it again, London food keeps impressing me. There was not a singular dud in the sea of plates that was brought out for us. Highlights include: beef and onion dumplings, giant noodles, rice vermicelli noodles, shredded beef, the FISH! Oh my god, the fish. Sublime. There we had a slew of wine glasses which already got me pretty tipsy. I know the alcohol is working it in my system when it starts acting like unprompted truths serum. For someone who’s trying to be back on a diet (or at least trying to limit the relentless gluttony), this place did me no service. Besides, food is especially delicious when it’s free.

After we were done eating, we headed on over to this pub nearby. Funnily enough, the same pub I had gone on that mediocre date I wrote about a few weeks back. I had a glass of rose to start, which then turned into cider, of which I drank shitloads. Not my fault their cups are so massive… And again, hard to say no to free drinks.

As you can imagine, I can still feel the weight of all these drinks crushing my body – mainly my head for now.

I don’t even know what prompted me to open Uber last night, a wise gesture I’m glad I did despite not remembering doing it. It’s especially impressive knowing how I don’t have the app and have to carefully enter the link on browser for it not to bring me to the Hong Kong version (still unsure why that happens). I saw a cheap ride and booked it. One of the longest drives in my life honestly. All I remember was looking over at the driver’s GPS, praying the endless road lines would stop turning and twisting. I got home, and from that moment, have no recollection.

I woke up pant-less, still in a face full of makeup, same shirt, next to a pool of vomit :D. Another reason I’m proud of drunk me is that I did have the clearance of mind to try and grab my trashcan and mostly aimed correctly so that’s nice. I bolted upright at 6am and had my flatmate remind me of the fact that I tried going to the toilet and couldn’t due to the other being in there and now I have even more useless resentment built towards her not going to lie. Not sure I ever spoke about this but she took my old room and we’re all feeling some type of way due to our landlord not choosing the girl we all wanted. Now we’re stuck with this old normie nurse and … Anyway.

Not sure why I’m even typing all of this, it’s not particularly interesting. I guess I just have to waste time. I literally can’t focus on anything and it’s so cold downstairs that I don’t want to go back. It’s cold at my desk too, as I got probably one of the worst seats of the office, but now that I figured where the cold comes from it’s been a little easier to manage. I only have 2 hours left. Still, this shit goes by so slow. I have plans tonight though which is both exciting and daunting. I technically mostly just need rest. Not plans that include poutine, but here we are.

[asassydork]

Chapter 2: At the Break of Day

Story: Shadows of the Forgotten

Word Count: 11.8k

Summary: Following an altercation with a local pack at a dive bar, Hal accidentally assumed the role of alpha having been ambushed and assaulted by four members of the pack including the previous alpha. None of which survived per the laws of wolves. Now, struggling to grapple with the unexpected mistake, he has to break the news to Thessarae. Telling her the sky is blue when she already knows that wouldn’t go well, so breaking this to her would be worse. He decides the best way to go about it is to host a meeting in an environment where food is involved, hoping that it’ll be somewhat of a distraction to her. They both planned for things to go well, choosing Hal’s casual optimism this time.

TW: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, monster smut, rewrite, more monster stuff explained

The feel of the blanket slowly being pulled from my greedy curled fingers woke me with a growl of discontentment. It started off slow but the second the growl filled the air, he violently yanked the blanket from my fingers like an asshole. I was a little surprised it didn’t rip.

“No,” I whine, rolling onto my stomach and finding that he’d taken my pillow somehow in the process. The only pillows left were the ones the motel supplies, full of detergent and mildew.

“I’ll be back for you,” he mutters softly. The noise that followed was from him rolling up our dirty laundry from this trip. It was just a few days of dirty clothes but he was following the ritual that involved the bedspread. We don’t leave a place until all of our stuff is clean and ready for the next. It makes it easier for the wolves to settle being surrounded by familiar scents in an unfamiliar place.

He’d gotten right to it like he hadn't slept. I’ve never seen him wake up active like this. Something wasn’t right. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

“No,” I whine, when he pulls the sheet down off the window. I was forced to take a second pillow and put it over my head to block out the light. It was early with how bright the room was. That made his restlessness worse.

“We have a list of things to do today,” he complains, almost whining back at me just to taunt me. He moved to the bedside to pull the pillow off my head. “You don’t want them to come looking for you and find you here.” He kissed the back of my head and drew his fingers down my side like he was trying to coax me to get up. That wasn’t going to work.

“You promised you’d let me sleep however long I needed to,” I complained in a grumble without moving my head or opening my eyes, “I’m really tired, baby.”

“You only call me baby when you whine,” he scoffs, patting my ass like a drum set. “I know you’re tired, T. But this isn’t the best place to hole up right now.” He brushed his nose against my neck to turn my head to face him, running his fingers through my wild hair lightly. “I’m just going to move you somewhere quieter.” He kissed my forehead for a long minute before brushing his nose against mine to kiss me. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” He nipped at my bottom lip.

“That’s not enough time,” I groaned, peeling a heavy eyelid open, “Baby, I can’t.”

He scoffs again like that was just going to be his reaction every time I say it. He kissed me again in a mean way, tormenting me with the fact that I didn’t have a choice. We were leaving when he came back. “I’ll bring you back something to eat. But you have to try to wake up.” He drew his nose over the back of my neck and ran his hand down the back of my right thigh, taunting me even more.

“You’re so mean,” I complain tiredly, smacking his hand away.

“Fifteen minutes,” he mutters in my face before kissing me again, a tired lazy kiss this time. He tasted like sex and I couldn’t help but whine again when he pulled away.

But I let him go. He smacked my ass again before tossing the sheets over me lazily and taking the bag of dirty laundry with him out the door. I groaned annoyedly and rolled my head away from the sun, swept back into sleep like I’d never been awake in the first place.

He pinched my ass when he came back because I wasn’t up. I smacked his hand away from me and he just pinched the other cheek before moving to open the window. It was a means of clearing the pheromones out of the room and letting in more miserable sunlight.

He gave me chills with the way he slowly drew his hand down the back of my right thigh before poking the mark on the inside of my left thigh with a clawed finger.

“Stop,” I complain, moving my leg away from him.

“You were at least supposed to get dressed,” he complains, grabbing both globes of my ass before swinging his leg over me to straddle me. He was making fun of me further by sitting on my legs like that. It’s what I do to him more often to wake him up. I also trace the scars down his back because I usually can’t help myself.

He doesn’t trace my scars because the only scar that starts on my back is the injury from the last time I saw my parents. It’s a wide gash that led him to taking me to the hospital. Breaking all of the rules and taking me from my family once and for all. The start of this journey we’re on.

“We have a meeting,” he says after a while, brushing his hand through my hair.

“Hmm?” I squirm under him, waiting for him to stop playing games. But I know he’s not going to feed into my demands today. Last night was a rollercoaster we didn’t need to be on.

“Yeah, to keep them from coming here. We have a meeting,” he scratched at the soft spot on the top of my head lightly with his middle finger and the soft spot behind my right ear with his thumb. It was a torturous sensation that made me almost want to buck him off of me.

“Don’t play with me,” I complained, smacking his hand off my head, even though it felt nice.

“Then get up,” he says, only he wasn’t serious. He leaned forward to brush himself up against my butt, making it very clear that he’s receptive but frustrated.

I move my butt against him, wanting friction between us. He growls grumpily but he was the one sitting on me. He could’ve pushed me to settle but he didn’t. He just brushed up on me a few times before pulling his sweatpants down to free himself. I moaned at the warmth against me and moved my hips to entice him. He growled grumpily again as I prepared to take him lazily.

“Greedy butt,” he complains, squeezing my globes again. He pats my butt before forcing his pants down more to get comfortable, knowing he was getting little cooperation from me. “You better wake up and take care of me after this,” he complains, sliding his hands over the front of my hips to help arch me towards him as he boldly takes me. There was little patience in the way he pressed inside. The burn was a little nice, but uncomfortable at the same time, waking me up more than I anticipated it would. “You’re lucky I like you,” he mocks, jamming himself deep without warning.

I snarl in warning at the pain of it but I trusted him. I’ve always trusted him, even if there wasn’t reason to. We were a weird couple, a complicated pair. Neither one of us asked for any of this.

“I’m gonna squeeze the life out of you,” I warn tiredly, barely opening my heavy eyelids to look over my shoulder at him.

“Give it your best shot,” he grumbles, moving one knee to better leverage himself as he fucks me roughly, shaking the bed under us. Even lazy, he knew how to deliver.

“You’re gonna hate me all your life, Halloran,” I grumble, arching my back and lifting my hips, only for him to close my legs together and grab my left shoulder as he rode me wildly.

“All my life?” He chuckles, a moan mixed with the words as he causes an orchestra of noises to fill the room, most being our bodies’ dance. The wet sounds were always my favorite element of him taking me. It proves that it’s more than just erotic. It’s glorious and loving.

“Yeah, cause you’re fucked,” I grumble, resting my head on the pillow, tucking my chin to my chest so I could breathe heavily. “So fucked.”

“This fucked?” He asks, digging claws into my shoulder as he moves against me faster. “You gonna keep me fucked all my life?”

“No,” I grumble, knowing he expected me to play along. “When this kid comes, you’re gonna be a domesticated little bitch. I won’t even exist to you anymore.” I moan loudly and roll my head to the side when he hits the trigger button for all of the scary parts to begin.

“You’re gonna leave me with the kid, aren’t you?” He chuckles, “I didn’t agree to be a single parent.”

“I didn’t agree to have my brains fucked raw,” I complain, “I won’t have any left by the time this thing forms and comes out of me. Little fucking alien will be weirder than I am.”

He snarled his displeasure at the insult and insinuation, moving his hand from my shoulder to my neck as he leaned some weight into my neck. I insulted his legacy and he was going to make an example of me. But I’d partially done it on purpose to frustrate him into giving me more of what I wanted, which he did. It works every time with him, making it easier than having to get rough with him. Just a couple insults and I’m right where I wanted to be. My skin tingled with the fabulous feeling of really getting rocked, even though he’d done it lazily, keeping me from putting much effort in on my side.

A small lazy howl of pleasure similar to a loud moan trickled out of me as I took his nearly painful thrusting like a champ, desperately squirming under him as convulsions started, a bigger blend of hormones available. He dug claws into my skin just as he pushed me over the edge of the climax, doing me a better service today than last night. I knew it was only because of the change in my hormones. There were more in attendance today because the estrus cycle had finally kicked into full gear. It allowed for me to climax better, because he had much more to work with. It was also meant to eliminate some of the pain.

So, the world went white for a second as he drove into me until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My generous monster. He started moving more shallowly when the convulsions morphed into contractions, squeezing him more pleasantly this time because the circumstances were better today than last night.

“There you are,” he chuckles, settling into that comfortable place that locked him in better this time. The muscles didn’t stop moving this time, reacting to touch as they grabbed a hold of him. It was almost like petting him from the inside.

“I’m not here,” I grumble, rubbing my head on the pillow to get the hair out of my face, realizing I broke out in a small sweat from the intensity of this round.

He laughs openly, without restraint. I couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that. He brushed hair out of my face as he laid down over my back, pulling his hand from my neck slowly.

“At least I’ll die a more fruitful death this time,” he chuckles, running his nose along a sweat spot on my temple before licking me like a weirdo.

“It still might be the worst experience of your life,” I grumble softly, still struggling to find my breath.

“Just for an alien,” he grumbles back, brushing his claws across my throat tauntingly. He dramatically nuzzles me and licks more sweat off my skin as one hand slides under me to hold my stomach. “You have a terribly vivid imagination that you shouldn’t share with me.”

“I didn’t say what kind of alien,” I mutter softly, breathing heavily out my nose to try to slow my heart rate.

“Oh, so you were thinking about going so far as to suggest it’ll have a color? Green? Blue? Purple? Three eyes? Two sets of legs? Two sets of arms? A spider alien? A whole bunch of eyes and a hunger for human hearts?” He bites my neck playfully. “What if she looks just like you?” He tries to hide his laugh because he knows how I feel about such an idea.

“Nah, he’s got black eyes that turn angry when he’s mad,” I whisper, moving my hand down over his, “Definitely bloodthirsty. Probably summoned through a seance you forgot you attended. Looks just like you, but only in certain lighting. Other than that, he’s terrifying to look at. You can’t make eye contact because then he gets mad and crosses the room like a demon in a cheap movie.” I sigh loudly and move my butt against him, suggesting that I’m not done even with him buried inside of me like this.

“Are you calling me demonic again?” He pokes me with his nose before sliding his other hand down under me to hold the other side of my belly, as if suggesting there was already life in there but we both know that’s not how it works.

“You’re never not demonic, baby,” I chuckle, pulling his arms more around me as I graze my hands over his.

“There you go again,” he snarls, biting my cheek hard to show his displeasure, “Calling me that name when you don’t mean it. Never heard you call me a demon and your baby at the same time before. You really aren’t here.” He laughs hard again, licking the whole side of my face knowing I hate it.

“Told you,” I mumble, closing my eyes and letting sleep come for me.

“You want him to be scarier than me,” he mumbles against the side of my head before brushing his nose through my hair, “Crazy woman.”

“He better be scarier than you,” I yawn after a while, rolling my head to the other side slowly, “He’s my kid.”

“In that case, you are scarier than me,” he chuckles, “I think a girl would be scarier. I can’t imagine dealing with two of you. She’ll be just as demanding as you. Bossing me around before she even speaks. And the little fucker is gonna be mouthy like you, biting people for no reason at all, but like you said, just looking at him sets him off. Just like you.” He nuzzles my neck and brushes his nose across the soft spot behind my left ear. “Two of them would be the death of me. Demon children everywhere. Climbing on the ceilings in the middle of the night. Jumping out of cabinets in the kitchen. Trying to suck blood like little vampires. Judging people for the way they smell. Beating each other bloody before they’re even old enough to have real strength. But it’s worse for other people. Purebred, top shelf bullies. The creepy antisocial kind who leave dead animals in your shoes and cut holes in your pants.” He was very amused with his interpretation of what it would be like. “Oh the parent teacher conferences are going to start early, trying to convince me to get them help. And all I can say is: ‘Sorry ma’am, the most help these kids can get is less time around their mother. They’re much worse at home.’” I didn’t expect him to pull out the whole sophisticated dad voice. I also didn’t ever think about parent teacher conferences.

“I’m smarter than their teachers. Wouldn’t cost me anything to homeschool them.” I chuckle, “I’m not going to parent teacher conferences when my kids are passing tests. And just pretending to have rabies at recess. If I gotta tie them up to get them to sit still, then I do what I have to.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“So, you’re really planning on being a mom, then?” He pulled a hand from my belly to brush hair out of my face. “More than once?”

“You’re not going to stop,” I say, peeling an eyelid open to look at him for a second. “I’ll be laid up like this all the time, especially once you get to torment the first one.”

He laughs, fixing my hair behind my ear before putting his hand back on my belly and laying down on me more, resting his head against the side of mine. He surprisingly let me sleep it off, ignoring all of the weirdness that was briefly between us that was leftover from last night. He wasn’t really going to let me sleep but I knew that. He also knew better than to actually expect me to wake up. He’d probably be more tired this time, too. The estrus of nightmares had certainly settled over me by now.

I don’t know how long it was but it was juicy and wet for all of that time, far more fluttery than before. He’d given me that relief. Everything was functioning more according to plan this time. It meant less pain and more pleasure, including the cramps not being that awful. He moved off of me to angle himself better so he wouldn’t hurt me as my body began orchestrating his release, coaxing him to finish. He arched over me like he was going to change, grunting and moaning with his hands on my hips to keep me from moving, even though I wasn’t going to. He convulsed inside me more violently this time, the first hot jet giving me a hot flash that settled in my neck. It wasn’t a direct stream but rather spurts like a firework display which just made me twitch more. He howled a little sound when the second one hit harder, grabbing the back of my neck that was hot to the touch into his mouth. I groaned a little bit in complaint knowing he could hurt me if he mentally taps out again. But he doesn’t. He just nips and sucks at the tender spot that was more tender today. It was like making out with the back of my head using a lot of tongue.

The anticipation was heavy in the air as we waited to see if that was enough or if there’d always be a third element from now on. I hated the idea of the pain it might put him in and the unnatural expense. I didn't want to begin to think about long term effects.

The third came on a bigger delay this time, like his body was fighting back. It was hot and strong, causing me to reach again, almost bucking against him because of the stimulation that seemed to come with it.

“You can’t tell me it doesn't mean something,” he grumbles to himself, moving inside me when there’s enough room to. He goes back to holding my neck in his hand lighter this time, stroking the soft spot with his clawed thumb as he goes back to fucking me like we never stopped. “You can’t tell me you take this much out of me and there’s not a little fucker in there. You didn’t take this much out of me before, you greedy gremlin. It had better mean something.” He was talking to himself, his voice low and dark, angry with me but more with the situation. He transferred that frustration into fucking me hard and violently again, wanting to get me off again, just to regain that control he must’ve felt he lost when my body dictated the demand. It was here that I realized he wasn’t mad at me. He was mad at the unknown and the waiting. He didn’t like giving so much of himself to a cause that required waiting for a response. He was impatient. It was something I didn’t expect from him.

All I can do is mew under his tender attention as he slams into me with the residual effects knowing it wouldn’t take much to overstimulate me again. He was playing with me, basically. It felt too good to ask him to stop, though. He probably wouldn’t listen to me anyway because I’m not really here. He tightens his grip on me when I squirm, knowing I can’t help my reaction when I’m close. He shakes the bed more violently this time as he moves faster against me, all of the sloshing that much louder now that we were both fully spent. I’d take him driving me crazy if it kept him from getting mad at me. I’d be his little prisoner who can’t breathe from the nicety of this connection. He was back to himself when he was like this, easier to read. He fucked me silly without the slightest restraint. The bed banging against the wall made me feel rather prudish and modest, my cheeks burning with the reality that anybody could hear us.

The second I arched my head back to both gasp in my last breath and let that final sound roll out of me, he flipped me over to kiss me quiet, replacing his shrinking erection with his fingers that hungrily strummed along to the beat of the pulse inside me. The sound was a darker howl of release this time, a sound more unlike me. My hips greedily bucked and rode his hand as his tongue danced in my mouth. Asshole. He chuckled at me knowing he’d won. I never considered it a competition before but maybe it was one. He sipped at my lips before sipping up droplets of sweat off my face like a weirdo. He probably would’ve licked me all over if we didn’t have somewhere to be. He pulled his fingers out of me and licked them in front of me, taunting me for whatever reason. The taste wasn’t anything new. I’ve got plenty to give him where it came from. He was just being annoying.

“No,” I whine when he moves away from me.

He lazily dragged me across the bed towards the bathroom before tossing me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He pretended to bite my hip as he moved into the bathroom. Mind you, he’s still got his pants and boxer briefs tangled around his ankles. That just gave me his ass to grab. He smacked me for it because that’s just how he gets.

He turned the water on for a shower before sitting me in the tub, knowing I’m not stable enough to stand on my own feet. I face the back of the tub knowing his main focus was taming my hair. Only, he stripped, put his clothes in the other room and suddenly appeared back in the shower silently in front of me. It was a very purposeful gesture, showing that he wasn’t done playing around like a naughty boy. My naughty demon.

I let him roughly sink his hands into my hair, massaging my scalp before grabbing my fancy shampoo to tame my wild hair. As he leaned over me towards the front of the shower, I nuzzled my face between both of his legs and kissed along the insides of both his thighs. I can play his game. It involved biting the mark I’d given him first on the inside of his upper left thigh, where I barely missed his balls. That’s what I was going for. The fact that I missed changed the trajectory of his life. I haven’t toyed with him this way in a while, preferring to leave it alone. But he’s mine. As much as I keep imagining we have the ability to walk away.

I nip and suck on the mark before biting down enough to draw blood. Triggering him to flinch and grab me hard by the hair for a second. He just started scrubbing my hair hard, nails rubbing across my skin, getting me high again because it was everything like being touch deprived even though he doesn’t know how not to touch me. I sip at the wound as he played with my hair, brushing my nose against his balls lightly knowing they’re sensitive and he won’t want to go again for a while. I’d play with him but it would just be cruel at this point. So, I kiss and lick along his legs instead.

He acts like he’s fucking my face briefly just for the laughter that bubbles out of him. I’d take any of him right now but he’s programmed to give me a baby and that’s it during these estrus cycles. My mouth wouldn’t be enough and then his wolf would get mad at me for wasting a release if I provoked it. I don’t like when he gets angry with me that way.

“Now, now,” he mutters, pulling me to rinse my hair, brushing both thumbs behind my ears at the same time, “You know better.”

“Do I?” I ask, leaning back into his hands as he continues scrubbing the shampoo out of my hair.

“Yeah, you fucking do,” he grumbles, scratching along my scalp to shut me up.

He lathers me up with conditioner before pulling me to my feet and brushing the soap across my skin. It led me to washing him too because we were both sweaty and spent, drunk on each other. The hormones were affecting him because his eyes were all glossy and his fingers were brushing his scent on me, purposely covering me as he cleaned me off. It was an attempt to dampen down my scent and mask some of the pheromones that weren’t about to stop driving my system. It was also the reason he really wanted to shower me off. He clearly doesn’t mind when I’m sweaty, especially when he brings it on. But it carries more of my scent, and we weren’t in a position to share it. It can be offensive to others, especially with sex in the air. It’s meant to ward them off and going to a meeting caked in it wasn’t smart when we have impressions to make.

“Sharing is caring,” I chuckle, touching his chin lightly.

“Mmm,” he hums, rinsing my hair the same way again.

My Halloran. My demon boy. Hal isn’t tall by normal standards but next to me he is. He’s not what humans consider traditionally handsome, which makes me greedier about his mediocrity. He blends right in despite his nature. They don’t even notice him. Covered in a coat of water like this, he’s probably the most beautiful I think. There’s something about the way the droplets compliment his tanned skin. His tan is fading because we haven’t had much time in the sun lately. But in the summer, he’s a handsome bronze. Sun-kissed. But people tend to notice him more then, somehow. As if a slightly different shade makes him handsome. But I get all of him, ugly or hot. All of the nitty gritty pieces he pretends I don’t know how to find. His frame is deceptive. He’s a little stocky without a six pack. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a firm core under those proud layers of fat. It’s the beast who’s hungry, needing more meat on his bones to get by. That’s why my curves are his favorite piece of me and why I don’t notice them anymore. He likes keeping me chunky, ripe for sowing. In the animal kingdom, weight is welcome for fertility and preparation, especially during the harsh seasons which will be upon us soon. It’s the reason for the estrus cycle, the last one of the year. I won’t control his psychotic little brain again until spring.

Hal’s got an Irish mom, who’s probably as fair as I am. She's the reason for his ridiculous name and the base color of his skin. But I know Vittorio Dallimore was a dark haired stranger in that story, coming through in his dark sometimes curly hair that misbehaves with the weather as much as mine does. I’m also pretty sure he has his eyes because the eeriness of the gold flecks around his irises ward off people from holding his gaze. They’re otherwise a mesmerizing mossy green, the most feral thing about him unfortunately. Even his demon wolf behaves when nobody’s watching. I still struggle wrapping my head around how all of that works.

But Hal’s very average to them. As if the sea of freckles across his skin aren’t something you’d immediately notice the first time you look at him, or the constellation that stretches from the left side of his chin to the right side of his hairline. There are eleven darker freckles that stick out along this trail, mostly clustered near each other and bold against the lighter ones. He doesn’t like when I touch them because he just thinks I’m being annoying. His nose has taken a beating, been broken a few times despite his restraint. Until he met me, I don’t think he knew how violent he could really be or how cruel the world we live in really is. Animals don’t play by human rules, and it’s a shame I had to be the one to teach him that. He’s got kissable lips that are a lighter shade of pink. They’re a little plump and I’m pretty sure girls are jealous of him for it. They’re also likely jealous of his dark eyelashes curling like they do. He has one of those faces that would probably look good with makeup on but I’d never tell him that because then he might just torture me by trying on drag. It’s funny to me, the weird feminine qualities about him that he seems fully willing to embrace without the slightest balking. I like him this way, though. Open minded and a little androgynous. I have a better sense of myself through his eyes. I can be as complicated and untamed as I want, live whatever lifestyle I please, and he doesn’t bat an eyelash.

So, I find myself staring at him as he finishes rinsing me off. My beautiful demonically possessed, doesn’t-realize-I’m-serious, beastly boy. I feel like I don’t take enough time to just appreciate him and the sight of him, even though I definitely eat up every second of him without clothes on. He’s the most beautifully chaotic thing I’ve ever laid eyes on and as much as we complicate things and bicker like old people, he’s more than what I could’ve ever imagined for myself. I didn’t really imagine a whole lot once adulthood set in and I was still all alone in the world.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, licking my finger all weird to show how long his tongue is again. I did not forget that fact.

“Just taking in the view,” I mutter with a relieved laugh through my nose, brushing my hand over his slightly stubbly cheek. “You should grow it out. I’d like to see if it works or not.” I draw my thumb across the thicker stubble by his ear.

He rolled his eyes at me before moving us so he could rinse off. “You take in the view and then you make corrections on it. I don’t think that’s how that’s supposed to work.” He shakes his wet hair at me.

“Yeah, well,” I brush my fingers through his hair slowly, “I like you a little more wild.”

“Of course you do,” he grumbles, sipping at my lips hard. “You’ve wanted to break me out of my cage since we met.”

“And I’m still trying,” I complain, brushing claws across his chest.

Hal’s not scarred-up very much. Most of the scars are light and down his back. Half of which came from me directly. The worst of them is a slash across his right side that could’ve been worse. That was the price he paid upon meeting my family. Not that they meant to bring it upon him but that it was real bad timing for him to enter my life when he did. I’ve got a similar mark down my left side from the same battle, only mine is deeper and bigger than his. He managed to stand his ground while I was purposefully outnumbered. He wasn’t a part of the war, so they tried to keep him out of it, having pinpointed each of us that they wanted. So, I’ve got the mark down my side and a nasty reminder on my face.

He sides the scar on my face like he knew that’s where my brain went. He nips my cheek to try to deter me from sinking into shyness from it because he’s been with me through it. This is the only version of my face he’s known, being that we weren’t people when we met. I’d go back to that lifestyle if it wasn’t a risk. The whole point of this trip was chasing that sense of freedom. We just had to find it for ourselves.

“So moody,” he grumbles with his mouth still pressed against my cheek, swaying us dramatically for demonstration.

“I can’t help it,” I mumble, moving to kiss him.

He growls at me, pleased that I’d seek distraction rather than sink into it. But I know his rules. Sometimes, it’s like an invisible whip on the back of my hands that I lash at myself when I disobey his weird little emotional etiquette because I didn’t have to manage my emotions without him. They simply didn’t exist. Not for a long time, anyway.

We don’t get much more time as he turns the shower off and picks me up carefully to carry me into the room to find towels. I can’t help grabbing his ass again because he’s not going to stop me with his hands on my ass.

He smacked my ass before dropping me on the bed to fetch the towels. Domesticated little housewife. He didn’t even think twice about it as he dried me off roughly, purposefully doing it like I was a dog. It just made me fight back and lounge at him playfully.

“Don’t play with me,” I warn, pressing my forehead against him with a dark look in my eyes. “You know what it does to me.” I hump his leg mockingly for a second and burst out laughing when he suddenly pins me down.

“So funny,” he complains, “until I do it to you.” He fake humps my leg and I grab his balls carefully.

“We’ll get to it later. Been a while since you gave me a piece of him.” I could sense the tension in his body at my bold proposal but he was clearly thinking about it.

“You want it the old school way?” He rubs his hand over my wrist as he lets me hold him. “You behave at the meeting and I’ll work something out.” A wicked smile takes his face before he backs away so he could roughly roll me over and go back to drying me off like that.

God, the weird laughter that filled the room was intoxicating on its own. I was relieved that he had finally come around. We’d gotten all of the gross weirdness out of our system and were on the same page again about what we’re doing. No hiccup was going to throw us off.

I didn’t mean to moan when he roughly dried my hair that way but I couldn’t help the sensation that came from it. He just kept rubbing my head like that until I nearly lost it. It wasn’t necessarily sexual but just a really nice feeling that caused warm chills to rush along my skin.

He eventually stopped to grab my clothes. I didn’t care to let him dress me. I’ve got no protest to being like a child around him. He knows exactly how I’ll act and react because he’s studied me. I’m his most fascinating muse.

He pushed underwear and sweatpants up over my ankles with precision and ease that I’m not even sure I have. I help by shimmying my hips as he pulls them all the way up, smacking my ass again like all of a sudden that was his new favorite thing to do. I was blaming the hormones but I think he was using that as an excuse. I rolled onto my back and lazily held my hands up in the air for him to push a shirt over my arms. But I was surprised that he didn’t put a bra on me. I mean, I understood it was extra fabric to have to take off but he usually likes me appearing more modestly in public. So, being allowed to have the girls free at this meeting was rather nice. It was also likely a message I didn’t understand. He pushed a hoodie over my arms before I sat up to let him push both over my head and then down over my body. I then laid back down to give him my right foot up over my left knee. Then I switched and let him drag me off the end of the bed to sit up.

I watched him shrug into clean boxer briefs that hug him immaculately and then the sweatpants again. And then a new shirt. Which meant that I could bask in the sweat on the barely worn one later. It was already assumed I’d likely sleep in it. I’m easily greedy that way.

I couldn’t help almost drooling as he put on his unnecessary layers. Just watching his body move did me in. Hormones can be vicious that way. He kissed my forehead to try to break me from the trance, knowing I’d strip him if he let me. We might never make it to this supposed meeting. He grabbed the brush from the bag and a hair tie because he has more patience than I do. Although, I’ve been known to braid his hair, especially now that there’s enough of it to make a decent enough braid on the top of his head. He won’t wear it out in public though, too wary of people’s opinion. Something I’ll never get used to.

I closed my eyes to let him brush my hair and was surprised when he didn’t do much more with it than pull it up in a messy bun. Although, his version is neat and meticulous, not nearly as sloppy as I would’ve likely done it. But he’s the one about appearances, so I just go with it like I do every other time he wants something done a certain way. It’s funny to me that his world is so external and all I can think about is the internal one between us without all of those rules.

He kissed my forehead before pulling the hood over my head because they’ll likely stare at me. He knows I don’t like that, especially human curiosity. There’s no viable story you can tell people that makes any sense outside of what really happened. People think too much so a car accident doesn’t work. After all, they tried to rip my face right off my skull and almost succeeded. It stretches from my lip to my ear, my jaw to just under my eye. A bunch of little lines from where the flesh was stitched together, trying to save what was there rather than replacing it. It was the first time I ever really had to go to the hospital. Not a fan of their drugs or surgery. But he’s right, I probably would’ve died otherwise.

I pull on my boots as he fixes his and grabs his jacket from last night. Another element of trying to appear human. But he knows better than to suffocate me in fabric. A bra is one thing. A jacket is another. So, I meet him at the door, knowing that he’s got a weird etiquette about how he approaches the world with me. It’s usually a protective amount of PDA, continuous touching, and he usually stands on my left to guard my face, giving me his shoulder to turn into when I’m uncomfortable. So, I was a little surprised that the second we stepped outside he moved in front of me and held his arms out for me to climb on his back.

“Madame,” he says in a mock accent.

“Weirdo,” I chuckle, jumping onto his back without throwing too much of my weight at him.

He was rather cheerful. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing. I bury my face in his neck as he carries me across the parking lot, purposefully making weird steps almost like he’s mimicking a horse. Sometimes, he gets weird like this as if he’s forgotten how old he is. It makes me feel youthful, though, as if we’ve somehow mastered the lines between a teenage romance and that of adults. Sometimes, if he’s foolish enough and really lets his guard down, I feel like it wasn’t so bad waiting for him. That we somehow have something that wouldn’t have made any sense back then, that I couldn’t have imagined having with anyone else. In being something I wouldn’t have expected for myself, he fixes the narrative of the standards I would’ve sunken to in order to fill a void that he does more than fill. It’s the reason I imagine it wouldn’t take very much for him to leave. My younger self wouldn’t have done well with him, been mad about all these human rules he follows and this impossible view of the world he has. She wouldn’t have risen to the challenge the way I have.

“For someone so tired, you do a lot of thinking,” he chuckles, fixing his arms under my legs, even though I’m glued to him and not about to slip like a kid might.

“Yeah, well, you do things to my brain that I can’t explain.” I kiss the side of his head for a long second. “You have a funny way of surprising me.”

I could feel his smile. He likes keeping me on my toes. I just rested my head against his neck as we approached the highway. The fast cars zipped by rudely. Midday with no discretion. I didn’t miss this and I wouldn’t miss it once it was really gone. He did the appropriate thing by waiting for a crosswalk rather than jaywalking with them driving erratically. I couldn’t begin to phantom what his childhood might’ve looked like, if he was a city kid or not. We don’t talk backwards, though. He only likes talking about today and the future. There’s a lot of things that I could pry about but I haven’t. The past is a dark thing for both of us and it really doesn’t have a place here. But there are things I wish I knew. A fuller, richer story to piece together his odd behavior and all of his rules. The most I know is that his father wasn’t around and his mom died when he was a teenager. They also weren’t an idyllic couple to write stories about. She was a lesser wolf than his father, but for some reason they ended up together long enough to produce an unexpected heir. And despite his mother’s standard, Hal’s got his father’s demon-blood. Enough of it to put up with me like it’s easy.

Across the highway, we approached a diner, that despite it being a weekday was busy. I imagined it would be full of old people but as he put me down outside the ramp, it seemed a whole blend of people. I ground my teeth at the crowded booths along the window. But public places were good for meetings and I was hungry.

He assumed his position at my left side, fixed the hood over my head before kissing the top of my head as we walked up the ramp. I brushed my hand under his jacket and then under his hoodie and shirt to graze the soft spot above his right hip, as if that would soothe me too. He opened the door for us and he just ignored the hostess, the smell of them gave it right away. They were sitting at a booth in the back, isolated from the other patrons, likely at an expense.

He just nodded his head at the older lady who smelled like she takes six cigarette breaks an hour. The women all wore the same plain uniform. White shirts, black pants and bras you could see through the thin fabric. Tips weren’t going to be overflowing from us just because her saggy tits were visible.

They got up from the table, some of them scrambling to get out of the booth as we approached. Three men, two women and a waitress. Then I realized the table next to the booth was also occupied by two more men. They were a diverse group that I wasn’t used to seeing. My pack had been mostly family. And those who weren’t family had been with my family longer than I had, generations that survived next to each other. Demons, every one of us. A special kind of pack that didn’t need a war dropped on our doorstep.

This group, not two of them, looked related. It made my head spin a little bit but he’d given me a broad number. I should’ve assumed it was a group of misfits following a bad leader. The way Hal assumed ownership of everything they had in a matter of minutes told me that the last alpha shouldn’t have been in charge. It also likely wasn’t a formal pair in charge. I wondered if they ever imagined finding a demon-blood, let alone two.

We all glance at each other, judgments cast upon first gaze and without skipping a beat, Hal takes a seat against the window, his hand firmly on my hip, keeping me against his side as we move over to make room for one of the smaller girls to sit down next to me. It made the boys sit at the table together, as if they needed to get away from me because I was more than they expected to accompany Hal. It was this subtle disrespect that they didn’t realize they were doing that showed me who they were. They were like Hal, civilized. Too civilized. Their idea of respect was to avert their gaze and tuck their tails. But it was actually disrespectful towards me. They should hold their ground, despite being lesser. Their fear was also scenting the air, burning my nose. But the diner itself was full of smells that burned my nose. Perfume. Cigarette residue. Cigar scents. Human body odors. Kitchen grease. Burnt coffee. Uncooked fish. Enough to make me nauseous. I had to breathe out of my mouth with my nose pointed towards him. I could also sense their judgment about my face. Amongst others of my standing, I’d have been revered as a warrior, a survivor. The way Hal sees me. But they cast human-based judgment on me about being ugly to look at. I don’t have the energy to train them to do something that my own children wouldn’t do out of instinct. It was worse than having a baby to look forward to. It made the baby seem easy. The imaginary and rather elusive idea of a baby, anyway.

“Waffles and French toast,” Hal says over me to the waitress who was one of them, “Home fries, chocolate milk and water.” He slid his hand under my shirt over my soft spots to release the tension in my back. I just leaned into him, not actually relaxing. He nuzzled my head and I closed my eyes, wishing to be tired and not tense.

“Stop doing that,” I say before lifting my head up to stare at the man sitting at the table across from us growling under his breath. Turning to the man across from him, I added, “You’re not any quieter. You have a problem with me, you bite your tongue and take it outside. You people care about your civilized appearance, act like it.” I huff a frustrated breath before moving to nearly sit on Hal’s lap with his claws pricking me in frustration. It was a blend of wanting to control me and also control them. He has a lot to learn in that manner.

“Remove yourself,” Hal warns the girl across from us who lightly peed herself out of fear of my behavior. “Go. Out. Clean yourself up before we see you again. Don’t do it again.” But she would. They always would, probably.

Well, we were on the same page. He just didn’t expect them to be so barbaric. I did. I definitely did. I was very glad at the idea that my own kids won’t piss around me like that. Even as a baby, they’ll be more contained than that. Thankfully. It made having a whole litter of pups better to comprehend than housebreaking and spirit-breaking a whole pack. It was less exhaustive to chase around a bunch of diaper wearing terrors who break things all the time than the work they’d require. Even Hal had to see that.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath before putting his hand on my belly, as if thinking exactly what I was.

I drew four fingers over the back of his hand just to insinuate that mentally, even though I didn’t want to, it would be easier chasing four little terrors around a huge house full of breakable china than fixing this pack from the foundation.

“It would be easier chasing four terrors around a house full of glass,” I whisper under my breath, trying not to laugh too hard at the idea.

He raked claws across my belly at the idea but I could sense he thought it was funny too. I could also sense that the idea of more than one baby pleased him. He’d take all of the weight of motherhood off of me because of his weird caretaker tendencies. I’d get plenty of sleep with my feet being massaged regularly. Not that I want it that way but that he wouldn’t give me a choice. He’d have bedridden even if I was perfectly healthy. He’s controlling that way, overbearing.

“Four,” he whispers in my ear before kissing the side of my head.

I just shrug. I couldn’t agree or disagree. I couldn’t even guarantee we’d have one.

“Four?” The woman next to me was not opposed to eavesdropping. Another trait that needed to be snapped on the wrist about.

“You can’t handle one,” I mutter, turning to glare at her.

His hand dug into my side when I did that. He was holding me back as if I was a rabid dog who couldn’t be commanded to stop. Perhaps that was the right way to describe it.

“They’ll be worse than me,” I say in a soft growl, wrinkling my nose at her dismissively. “Mind your fucking ears, stupid bitch.”

“Hey,” Hal warns, resting his head against mine but he didn’t growl displeased with me. He just needed me to tone it down with a human audience not so far away.

“Got yourself a feral, it seems,” the brown haired man at the first seat diagonal from me at the table says to Hal but he was looking right at me.

I show teeth but don’t growl. He’s not wrong and it was bold of him to try to disrespect me in front of my mate, their alpha. It made me wonder if I could remain outside of that reign for the sake of not wanting to do all of the clean up.

“To think some of us expected this to go smoothly,” Hal says, not really keeping his voice down. “What was the point in coming?”

There wasn’t one from our side of this table. I rested my head back down against Hal’s shoulder. I wished to be anywhere else. It would’ve been easier to deal with a demonic group that didn’t wish us to stick around than these bunch of low life’s. That’s what they were to me. Low ranked, ill advised, uneducated problems. Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. I haven’t had up close experience with their kind. I didn’t agree with any of it and I think Hal was starting to see that. Whatever he imagined we’d accomplish here was already out the window. He’d be making up for it by booking us an expensive hotel room for the rest of my cycle. Every meal in bed, long luxury baths, probably a massage and whatever other torturous acts of the human world he sees fit to make up for the embarrassment that this meeting turned into. It no longer mattered that we were late and not many of them appeared.

I was just amused that Hal’s optimism from last night melted into an agreed pessimism. I didn’t want to burst his bubble. He needed to see things for himself. But we could easily snap ourselves out of this one. It wasn’t any serious commitment by their unwillingness to cooperate. The old laws could overlook it because of both parties agreeing to never engage in the proper bonding expected.

“You’re dismissed,” I warn the girl next to me when nobody moves. “You don’t want to be here, don’t be here. You’ve already run my patience. Don’t ruin my meal.” I make that annoying hand gesture I usually hate but know that it speaks to them in their human mindset. Buh-bye.

“Are you deaf?” Hal asks them, backing me in a way they clearly weren’t anticipating.

“You don’t know?” I chuckle, turning in Hal’s hold, still wanting his hands on me but needing to see their faces for myself. “You think he calls the shots, just because he dismantled your old leader?” I cover my mouth with a mocking laughter that bubbles out of me, an angry laughter. “Do you not know what you are? What we are? Who we are? You follow my rules, our rules. Rules laid out long before we were born and will be there long after we’re gone. The highest of them is looking to me for leadership. Not that you will. You won’t and I’m not wasting my breath. I’ve seen all that there is to see. Disrespect after disrespect and you hardly catch yourself doing it. Too humanized and civilized to see your own deceit. I don’t have the time to clean this up. I just don’t. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to enjoy my breakfast and you’re going to be out of my sight before it becomes the last thing any one of you does.” Hal growled low behind me in warning but it wasn’t at me. It was at the expressions on their faces that grew with the more truth I spoke.

One after another, they got up and left, some lingering for others to go with them until there was one man left at the table. He was quiet and he looked upset. Maybe he had more invested in this working out than the others. I don’t care.

“What we are?” He says without looking at me, his eyes on his hands folded on the table in front of him. “What you are.” He finally lifts his gaze at me. “They’ll never kneel, never heed to your expectations. Never answer your call. But what are they to do? Where will they go? Where will you go? Who’s supposed to lead?” He was angry but he kept himself contained, kept his voice low. “There are kids in this. Families. Grandparents. What becomes of them if you leave us without a leader?”

“Not our problem,” Hal warns, leaning forward against my back like a predator. I sank into him, feeding off his energy because it was spicy. “All they had to do was sit there quietly, hold a gaze and not wet themselves. Nothing bad was going to happen to them but not a single one of them even tried to keep it together. I warned you what you were getting into.” He placed both hands on my belly and pulled me against him more, protecting the imaginary baby he keeps thinking will just appear one day.

“You didn’t tell us about this,” the man says, gesturing to me like I was no longer a part of the conversation, just an object.

I had to use force against Hal to keep him from actually lunging across the booth at him. It rattled the table because he’s stronger than me and I really can’t stop him. But we can’t do this here, not with humans present.

“Stop it,” I warn over my shoulder at him as his claws scratch my skin lightly, preparing for a war that can’t happen right now. “Baby, I’m trying to eat. Knock it off.” I pull one of his hands off of me and poke him in the claws to try to push them back into his fingers. He reluctantly does.

“Baby,” he growls darkly against the back of my hood before biting me through it. God, he was really mad and I haven’t seen him like this. But it was more contained with him shrinking down behind me and then strumming his fingers over my belly button to distract himself.

“Call me a thing one more time when I just saved your life,” I say, flicking the asshole off before reaching back to pet the side of Hal’s head which was still pressed up against my hood because he wasn’t entirely calm. Probably wouldn’t be until we were alone. “I decide when there’s a war,” I mutter, pulling the hood down from my head to briefly show my scar as a warning. “I’m in charge of life and death. He tends to the specifications around that. But I decide who lives and who does, when and where. Test me some more. Test him some more because we both know I can’t protect you from him when he decides when death comes to play. Whatever prejudice you have against me, never should’ve walked through that door with you and your friends. You’ll never survive what I’ve seen. If I’m such a big bad wolf, imagine what happened to the fuckers that did this.” I turned my head to give a full view. Only for Hal to roughly grab me by the throat because he didn’t like me talking about it this way.

“They’re dead,” Hal warns from behind me, nipping at the back of my neck like he couldn’t help it. “Cold and dead.”

“We could’ve had a good thing. This could’ve been a home for us, a place to start over. A place to fit into. But I’m not going to sit here around a bunch of cowards who think my way of life is the wrong one when my family survived in one place for centuries. That could’ve been a legacy to look forward to, to build towards. But y’all wanna play games and be chickens about the mere existence of me. I came in here, prepared to behave myself. I think I’ve done a pretty good job considering how other packs have had to deal with me. To make it worse, you pissed him off when he was your advocate. He’s the optimist. He was on your side up until you slandered my existence with the continued lack of knowledge towards what you really are. What I am and all that I stand for. You didn’t have to agree. You didn’t have to conform. You just had to be respectful. You couldn’t even do it.” I smack the table and pull my hood back over my head, Hal sitting back in his seat. “Now, go find your friends before you dig yourself in a deep hole. Regroup and find someone else that doesn’t care that you live like cowards.” I give him a pointed look to get lost before turning back towards Hal and melting back into his side since he needed me to. I play with the trail of hair around his belly button under his shirt. I was just mimicking what he was doing to me except you can’t see my happy trail.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, sadness in his voice that he didn’t want to share with me right now.

“Just don’t stress me out. I want it to stick this time,” I whisper back, laying my head against his chest more.

He chuckles lightly and kisses the back of my head. “You’re really trying to get pregnant this time?” As if we haven’t had continuous conversations about it.

“Ha-ha,” I grumble, sighing against him.

“I’ll do you some good to give me someone on my side,” he chuckles, “Kick your ass in shape.”

“You mean kick my guts out,” I say, plucking a hair.

He smacks my hand away because it hurts. It just makes me laugh. He relaxed into the seat more, the tension leaving his body.

“All I can say is, everyday is a learning journey. And most of them have shown me that it’s not so impossible to do the things we set out to do.” I go back to playing with the hair again. “That if it happens, I’ll be better than I used to think I would be. There’s a lot less to be afraid of now.”

“Until they’re crawling on the ceiling in the middle of the night,” he laughs, “or their eyes are glowing in the dark.”

“Ah, that’s just child’s play. It’ll be a problem when there’s bloody trail marks on the ceiling because they found another victim they’ve been trying to hide.” I move to kiss him because he was laughing, as if the moment was quick to pass.

I knew the guy didn’t leave like he was meant to. He was determined to get himself killed watching us like he was. But we could be happy in our own little world, could come right down from a fight in the most arrogantly-dismissive way. I dared him to try us some more.

We were both moody from the estrus and lack of food in our stomachs. But we were also authentically ourselves. It took work to find this version of Hal. It was far from easy to show him what I want to see and for him to step into himself and own everything he’s got. Including me. I liked being his force. Both good and bad. I liked reading him without even having to look at him. We moved together, understood each other, read and sensed each other. We were one. It doesn’t happen overnight.

I hum against his lips, needing to pull myself away from his attention because the food was approaching. It was also then that I found the group standing outside the window in a bundle talking. They’d grown as if others remained in the cars as to not overwhelm us. Smart. But not too smart. More disrespect, technically. I could’ve let some of it go. They don’t know better. But they were warned and that’s more than what I’d gotten.

I grunt with displeasure which drew Hal’s attention out the window before he acknowledged the waitress and the food she brought. It wasn’t much. Hal needed to make sure I ate my fill before he started eating or ordered anything else. But I don’t eat specific kinds of food. My diet wasn’t restrictive before all of this but it just wasn’t work getting sick. I was raised on catching my own dinner most of the time. You don’t go from free range to store bought without serious time in the bathroom that I didn’t need to spend. I could burn through the calories of the sugary breakfast faster and better than the food from last night. To do both together was just asking to ruin our week.

Hal pulls the plates closer to us, dumps things on top of each other because it doesn’t bother me when foods like this touch. They’re all getting doused in syrup anyway. Including the home fries that I don’t eat with ketchup. He goes as far as to put on the syrup the way I like it and cut the food up like I was a little kid. I’m sure it looks like I’m incapable of doing such a thing, especially when they assume feral means eating out of dumpsters and pissing on people’s lawns. They needed another term that relates more to being wild and free, beyond just feral. We were mountain wolves, generations strong killing elk and deer regularly and keeping the herd protected to prosper alongside us. I still went to school and did my homework. I just had more freedom to be myself. Being weird was less offensive back home. I fit in better because acceptance was practiced. It was trained.

Hal gave me the fork when he was done cutting it up. I tried not to roll my eyes at him because he’s trying to be sweet. It just irks me to no end most of the time because I just feel like a child. But that’s how I know he’d be the best dad. He does more for me than he has to. I just want strong independent kids who don’t take shit from anybody. They’ll have thicker skin than either one of us, and handle the world better. It’s my one goal as a possible mother. I want them to do me proud by being the things I wished I could’ve been. They’ll have more tools than I did and acceptance will be bred into them because I am not an easy sight to look at. I’ll be the one scaring other kids away, and the reason they likely get into their first serious fight. But it’ll be something to make Hal proud. To give him purpose too. We’ll make a confusing family unit. Everybody will stare at us when they see how easy we are to be around each other.

It made eating easier, relieving the worry. There wasn’t a fear about damaging them anymore. I’ll just give them more tools, protect them from the fear I wished I didn’t live with. They’ll be a strong bunch, independent but also dependent, able to work together as a team when the moment calls for it. Strong leaders who can put their differences aside in the face of conflict. My demon army with rocks in their pockets and knives in their shoes. You can never be too prepared in this world.

“Stop plotting,” Hal whispers in my ear, chuckling because he knew whatever I was thinking about was just making me hormonal. “You’re gonna knock me out.”

“I’m just eating,” I mumble around a mouthful, covering it with my hand.

“Sure,” he grumbles, letting me finish without any more interruptions.

He ordered his food when I started slowing down. Some omelet he knew I didn’t want anything to do with and a short stack of pancakes. We ate in peace, existing in our own little world like a couple of strange aliens. I couldn’t help loving on him while he ate like it was nobody’s business. He was trying to keep his diet within a certain range to see if that had anything to do with the lack of pregnancy like his only resources were human textbooks. Again, I let him be. He eats well enough and he’s not losing any weight. I can’t complain. I just chalk it up as superstitions because that makes it easier to leave him alone in his small ignorance. A baby will come when the baby wants to. It’s honestly got little to do with us and more to do with that little fucker picking his or her time. All we can do is make sure everything’s in order for them to do that. I’ve got nearly a year to really prepare but they’re a demanding bunch. It’s the reason my mom had so many. All the right criteria were always readily available when they got together and poof, five kids spread out realistically not to overwhelm her. Some families are known to be bigger. But the average is low. Conception is even lower. We’re just not cut out for human life anymore. A lot of their changes affect us in the smallest of ways. It’s never come as any kind of surprise to me.

“No more bottled water,” I say, when it dawns on me. “Honestly, no bottled drinks in general.” I groan at myself thinking about what that’s asking. “Glass or carton is fine.”

“Microplastics,” he nods his head and continues eating. “Didn’t think of that one.”

“Processed meats were a given. I can’t eat them anyway.” I savored that burger though. The last one for a long time.

He just eats, nodding his head. We fall silent again and I just lean on him like he’s a stuffed animal. I would’ve preferred being in bed with him stroking my hair or massaging some part of my body. He’d likely put me right to sleep if he did all that.

The waitress doesn’t charge us, like it was meant as an apology but she wasn’t even here for the meeting that blew up. Lucky her. I clean Hal up because he made a bigger mess than me, only for him to sip at my lips and remind me that I’m covered in syrup. He was like a dog about it, eager for every sugary drop on the rim of my mouth. It made me laugh and push him off of me, only to wipe my face down in a napkin.

“You can’t leave,” the man says when I started moving to get out of the booth. “You can’t just leave us to fend for ourselves. We’ll never make it.”

“Elect a new leader since it’s nothing more than a democracy to you anyway,” I ground out, rising to my feet only to get dizzy when I stood up. Hal pulled me back to sit down. He was a little rude about it because the guy got up like he was going to get involved.

Hal doesn’t say anything. He just sniffed me to see if he could figure out what happened. It was probably just a sugar spike or a rush of blood from sitting down too long. It could also be from exhaustion.

“Sit down,” Hal warns but he’s not talking to me. His voice went dark again like that’s the only way to talk to this fucker. He was also gritting his teeth which bothered me.

I put his hands back on my belly and attempted to stand up again. In doing so, he moved with me and the man sat down like an obedient dog who only recently learned that trick after being beaten. It was insincere.

Hal brushed his hips against mine to support me like he expected me to pass out. All I did was rub up on him for a second when nobody else was looking and pull him with me towards the door.

The world could’ve stopped right there.

#creative writing #dark and moody #dark romance #new writers on tumblr #writeblr #writer on tumblr #writers on tumblr #creative writers #monster fic #reimagined werewolves #werewolf romance #werewolves are vampires #mythology reimagined #mythology and folklore #my wip fic #my wips #my ocs <3 #my ocs #oc x oc #romance writing #monster romance #paranormal #paranormal romance #supernatural romance #supernatural #fiction writing #read me #feedback #current wip #updates coming

[inthiseternalmoment]

Tattoos are coming

Realizing that my tattoo journey has mirrored my awakening journey, plus some photos on my walk home from therapy that prove time is subjective

9/7/2023

Went to meet Felipe today and set two dates for the neck tattoo, super excited! He uses the pen tattoo machine which is much quieter and easier on the skin.

I liked his energy (even if he was a little serious, I got the sense it might’ve been from difficult clients in the past) and I’m excited to be working with him. Plus, I’ll finally close out this tattoo theme I started 2 years ago. I’m just now realizing that my tattoo journey mirrors my awakening journey, with Erik being an incredibly spiritual person AND my first tattoo artist just as I was beginning to awaken to spirituality!

With my original tattoo theme closing out in November, I wonder what kind of changes will be in store for my spiritual/life journey as well. I know the spiritual journey never ends, but at the same time it’s pretty synchronistic that my tattoo journey is a marker for my spiritual journey. In that way, I have literally become a different person over the last few years and I’m now about to really look the part. Fascinating.

Having finished the Netflix limited series on blue zones, Aprille and I feel more inclined to leave the US as a whole. Not yet sure how that will happen for us, but we’re definitely pulling from our future experience and bringing that into the present.

Also took these photos on the way home from therapy:

You can tell the direction I walked in based on the order you look at these photos…wait actually the direction changes based on the order you look at them…there’s definitely some spiritual significance here

What’s trippy about these photos is that the story you come to about the direction I was walking is the truth. I could’ve been walking one way or the other, and they’re both true. This is exactly what Aprille and I talk about (even Bashar), that all truths are real and you just work with the one that you choose/is relevant to you. And to assume one interpretation of these photos is the one and only truth will close you off from other perspectives and interpretations.

Which reminds me of the spider man meme that they referenced in Spider-Man: Across the Spider Verse. We’re all just the same thing pointing at one another to get a different perspective. “Levels of perception,” as I’ve said before.

…

In therapy I was actually surprised at the number of big things that has happened in just the past two weeks. I was recalling that we had finally submitted music, and that felt like over a month ago at this point. I guess that’s why time feels like it’s moving faster now - that being because the illusion of time probably is moving faster as I’m experiencing more synchronicities.

Who knows what’ll happen in the next two weeks! I’m sure I’ll be able to log it on here now, so that alone will be nice 😌

Also, I’m so curious what truths come to light this month for the collective. I get the sense that this will be the last year where things continue as they are. The unraveling is happening as we speak, and maybe that will coincide with this tattoo journey? We shall see 🫢🧘‍♂️

#personal #september #2023 #9/7/2023 #27

[crazyblondelife]

Brand Crush - Sea Clothing + This & That

Happy Friday from Germany! Baldy and i have been visiting our daughter and her sweet little family, including Sarah’s husband, Will and our adorable grandson Bristol! Bristol turned two in January and is such an amazing little boy! He has personality for days and we’ve been entertained by him the whole time! We hadn’t seen them since December so we’ve been savoring every second of our time! Thankfully, at the end of this month, they’re moving back to the states and will only be three hours away from us, so we’ll get to see them much more often and spend holidays with them!

We’re in Vliseck Germany right now, but headed to Prague tomorrow for a short sightseeing trip and I couldn’t be more excited!

Today’s post is a jumble of different things that I’m loving right now from my new brand crush to my favorite hair oil and more! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m making some real lifestyle changes and choices. My focus is on purchasing more environmentally friendly clothing and more local products, including food from local farms. Our choices in life, the way we spend our money say a lot about who we are and it also speaks to what we want to bring forward and manifest.

The environmental impacts of the fashion industry, agriculture and most everything we purchase can be lessened when we choose companies who are doing their part to care for Mother Earth. It’s so much easier these days to shop at local farmer’s markets for everything from in season veggies to meats to honey and so much more. I’m sure you’ve noticed my post about our local potters - Haand Ceramics! I’ve absolutely loved getting to know them and it’s been so much fun to style my food in their fabulous dishes!

When it comes to shopping for clothes and shoes…it’s easier than it was, even several years ago to buy clothing that’s ethically produced and more environmentally friendly! Does this mean that I’ll never shop at Zara or Target and that I won’t pull into Starbucks every now and then…probably not, but I am trying to be more conscious of my purchases and choose wisely.

Let’s start with my new to me brand crush - Sea Clothing! I’ve known about this company for several years but this beautiful embroidered dress is my first purchase! I saw it and immediately thought it would be so perfect for late afternoons at the beach! I love to put on something comfortable but still cute after a day at the beach and sit on the porch (of course with an afternoon cocktail). This dress is made from organic cotton and couldn’t be any more perfect for those on the porch beach afternoons and it would also take me straight to dinner! When I tried it on and realized it had pockets, I was sold…pockets totally change the game for me! I’ve already worn it several times and it really dresses up with the sky high Stella McCartney espadrilles I’m wearing! I would, of course be barefoot on the porch at the beach!

And a little about Sea…

“Sea is born out of the friendship between childhood friends Sean Monahan and Monica Paolini.  Together, they share a vision that is distinctively Sea—combining Monica’s eye for vintage-feeling pieces and Sean’s leaning towards more modern, clean styles.  Their considered perspective forms an aesthetic that is quietly inviting and elegantly balanced. Classic silhouettes with a distinctive use of lace, embroidery, knits and technical fabrics result in collections that are at once both effortless and optimistic, romantic and boyish.  Each season, the duo continues to refine and reinvent their own language, developing a cherished connection with their global, modern customer who relies on the brand for their day-to-day wardrobe. They stay focused on the world of Sea, exploring, evolving and building the brand.”

And…here are a few more random summer “essentials” - in no particular order!

I have to leave you with at least one recipe! This one for Pesto Pasta Primavera from Camille Styles is next up on my list of easy weeknight dinners! It’s sounds so seasonal and fresh and I can’t wait to make it!

Last up…Baldy and I are so exited to watch the new season of Queer Eye! It’s been one of our favorites for so long! It’s heartwarming and such a positive show in a world that is desperately in need of positivity!

#fashion #Sea Clothing

[megankeely]

I wrote Old Companion in December 2021, during the first months of a cleansing effort to rewire my relationship with alcohol.  I’d noticed that over the course of 2020 and 2021, my habits around alcohol had gradually changed. By the end of 2021 I rarely went a day without having at least a beer or glass of wine.  Common story.

When I began to feel I wanted alcohol to be less present in my life, it didn’t really seem like an option in our alcohol-obsessed society, particularly amidst our alcohol-obsessed entertainment industry.  I feared I’d be judged, left out, or perceived as “less fun.”  Approaching my 36th birthday, I decided to take a break from alcohol full stop.  Despite societal pressures and expecations that made it seem difficult, no one was actually stopping me but me.  I first decided to try a month, and when that went well I decided to go for 6 months.  I liked the clarity I’d gained, and eventually decided to do a Dry 2022. 

It wasn't easy at first, but I am certain that the decision to take a break from alcohol was a crucial step towards making this record.  I replaced one companion that had taken over and claimed a prominent role in my social routines and habits (beer/wine) with the tried and true companions that had kept me company for years (writing, recording music, hiking).  The first few weeks, I replaced my happy hour glass of wine with a glass of cranberry juice.  I swapped my beer/cider cravings with a crisp sliced apple.  I brought a canister of hot tea to shows and social events.  I realized that I’d learned to lean on alcohol during times when I felt socially anxious, awkward, shy, or just not in the mood to be social.  So now in this shifted reality, instead of forcing myself to be social and charismatic when I wasn’t in the mood, I simply went home and went to bed early (easier said than done).  To my surprise, I found I had more energy to be present with people when I was choosing to do so, and didn’t need alcohol to bring me into the moment.  When I wrote Old Companion and eventually performed it for the first time, the taboo and secrecy around this struggle evaporated. 

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever play the song because I didn’t want people to see me differently, to think of me as someone labeled by a struggle with alcohol, or to assume I’d hit some horrible rock bottom of alcohol dependancy.  In truth, I am just like the millions of other people whose relationship with alcohol gradually changed over time, beginning in social settings that are centered around alcohol, anchoring around duties and rituals as a musician being asked to entertain, and eventually creeping into day to day life, end of day routines, and invisible habits that go unnoticed.  I had zero interest in sipping a cup of tea, I remember thinking “What’s the point?”  I’d go for a hot toddy, but not a mug of tea alone.  But when I allowed my brain to unwire from the impulse of “just add alcohol” to make things fun or relaxing or better, then and only then did the actual finer things in life become even finer.  A walk in the park or a quiet moment sipping tea while looking out the window – alcohol used to claim credit for making these kinds of moments feel like a "treat," but it turns out they are nice in and of themselves once alcohol’s no longer taking center stage.  There are so many activities that I used to associate with a bottle of beer or glass of wine - cleaning the kitchen on a Sunday evening, cooking dinner, hanging out with family and friends… but once I did those activities a few times without alcohol, I got a whole new glimpse into what my life could feel like.  

People sometimes ask me if/when I’ll start drinking again.  At times it bothers me because it makes me feel like they prefer me drinking, that it makes them uncomfortable when I don’t drink, or that they feel they can’t trust me if I’m not drinking with them.  There’s a lot of bonding that happens when people are drinking together, but I’ve realized that the bonding that happens without alcohol as a crutch is just as rewarding if not more so.  I can’t tell you how much energy I’ve spent this year trying to make sure that my choice to not drink isn’t making other people feel uncomfortable or judged.  I’m not judging anyone for their drinking, and yet I feel immensely judged for my choice to not drink.  Who knows how long I’ll continue this break, if I’ll continue past 2022 or go back to social drinking on occasion.  I don’t know, and I don’t really need to know right now.  All I know is that writing this song was a big step in the right direction for me.

► Share Old Companion:

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Old Companion Six months from now Will I be free From this conflicted part of me

After a year Will I have a new way To relax my mind at the end of the day

Without my dear old companion Who soothed me all these years

I had a feeling That started to grow Til I pushed it down too far below

But while I still can I just have to try Before all my chances pass me by

Without my dear old companion Who soothed me all these years

Before the show, and after too To pass the time, to start a new To make it feel magic, to make it feel true To turn off my mind, to just make it through To just make it through Without my dear old companion Who soothed me all these years

#Youtube