#this was also at the very end of the day for the clinic because i came in hella late

[babiebom]

Would they be a Girl Dad/Mom or Boy Dad/Mom

A/N: just know that this isn’t the weird incest-y thing that people have going on (the boy moms saying that no girl would ever compare to them when talking about their sons dating stuff) this is just what vibes they give off!! The is completely ignoring the how many kids they would have thing!!

Tw:cursing? Mentions of a afab partner in bachelors and amab partner in bachelorettes. Some angsty stuff but nothing too bad except for the authors note which mentions incest.

Wc:at least 5 for each!

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Girl dad

He just gives off girl dad energy

Like a daughter would soothe his soul if that makes sense.

Especially because I feel like he would have a daughter that’s exactly like her mother.

He would become softer, and would probably be carrying her everywhere.

Would be the parent that shows up to the school like “WHO TF HAS A PROBLEM WITH MY DAUGHTER?”

Absolutely doesn’t allow her on his motorcycle at all.

Maybe when she’s a little older he’ll get mods to a new motorcycle so she could ride with him but as a baby absolutely not.

She is a daddy’s girl through and through and it makes him happy because he never had a relationship like this with his biological dad nor with Demetrius.

Sam

Girl dad

You will see him teaching his daughter how to skate EVERY DAY

Like dude is a skater boy that’s also a musician.

He definitely has a daughter with her skirt on and some knee pads a helmet and some flannel or something.

And he’s like “okay try again! You’ll get that kick flip eventually.”

And you’re just like “SHES GONNA GET H U R T!!!!”

And he’s like “yeah but she’ll be fine :)”

It’s VERY stressful because he’s a little rough with playing sometimes because he gets too excited but it’s good to have a partner that will push your child like that.

He’s a very good fun dad

Vincent enjoys being an uncle.

Shane

Girl dad

Have you seen how he is with Jas?

Dude is a girl dad all the way!

Would teach his daughter how to take care of the chickens, and would try to teach them proper ways of dealing with their emotions because he doesn’t want her to end up like him.

I could imagine he’s one of those dads where his daughter posts something on a social media platform and gets the “this is no father behavior” or whatever people be saying

And she just makes another video with him standing there and is like ??????? I’m actually close to my dad thanks <3

Like his daughter would be strong but a good person because he would work hard to make sure she’s a person he wishes he could be. But not in a toxic way

More in a you could be and are better than me.

Alex

Definitely a boy dad

I think he gives off the vibes of a dad you see at the park

And you can immediately tell that his child is a boy and when anyone asks him he points to a little boy that looks exactly like him.

They have football days

And it just very much him fixing what he didn’t have with his dad, and giving his son as much love and care as he can.

It’s as if he is getting a do over, but in the form of having a child instead of him going back to being a child.

I can see him and his son in the kitchen with a mess everywhere trying to make you breakfast

He takes him to sports games and goes to all of his kids events at school.

They’re both EXTREMELY loud when doing anything together. It’s just shouts of excitement and joy.

Harvey

Boy dad

I don’t know he gives off that he specifically has a 3 year old son that clings to both of you on any given day.

Like a son with big eyes that can melt anyone’s heart and his hair is always neat.

Son may be a bit of a crybaby ngl but in a cute way. Because both of you allow him to express his feelings in any way he wants to as long as it’s healthy.

Like y’all’s son would be an incredibly sweet boy and so loving and caring towards other people and things.

Harvey has a picture of you and your son as his lock screen on his phone and the clinic computer. And he has a little picture (more like a million) of you three in his wallet.

Elliott

Girl dad

She takes mom’s looks but has his hair.

And also his bone structure.

Gives off Nepo baby vibes and has a big vocabulary bc Elliott would speak to her as if she’s an adult since the day she’s born.

Like yeah he still speaks softly and everything

But he uses adult words bc his kid is going to be smart.

Would be so sweet and would absolutely call her his princess.

Elliott is for sure in charge of bedtime stories and has probably already or has made plans to release a children’s book just for her

She gives him inspiration and a new meaning to his life.

Penny

Boy mom

She just seems like the type of woman to have a son

I imagine him literally either as a newborn with her never putting him down or like a 4 year old playing at the park.

I think he would be similar to her in personality but more like dad in looks.

He’s attached to her and they spend hours reading together because they’re both very into stories.

I think out of all the kids he would be the sweetest.

He’s very soft spoken like she is and she loves that he is (don’t get me wrong if he was loud she would still love him just as much) but she’s seeing all of the traits that she was more insecure about in him and figuring out that maybe it’s nothing to be ashamed of because those traits are lovely in him.

Leah

Boy mom

Like I mentioned in the other post I think she would have one child

And I think this little boy would be so creative it’s crazy

But is also super hyper so all of his art is chaotic but very cool

She probably started doing art with him the second he was born.

She makes a bunch of finger,hand,toe, and footprint art because he’s going to grow quickly and she wants to have something that she can look back on when he’s grown.

He’s encouraged to be messy and I think because of it he learns to clean up his mess quickly

They’re a very smilely duo and she makes sure to encourage him in whatever he wants to do no matter how absurd because no one encouraged her to follow her art dreams and she never wants him to feel like that

But also teaches the importance of accepting failure and continuing to try to achieve his goals.

Emily

Boy mom

Very strange like her but in a good way like her

She lets him express himself in all kinds of ways so he’s very…idk how to explain it

Sometimes off putting to people?

Sort of autism coded ngl

Like has no ability to read the room and very much says what’s on his mind no matter what’s happening

But it’s kinda impossible to get mad at him because he does it in a very nice way?

Probably has his hair dyed some random color that he wanted and everyone gets mad at Emily for it because “HeS a KiD hE cAnT dO tHaT!!!!!!!1!!!”

They’re also super close. But I don’t honestly think any of these bachelor/ettes would have kids just to hate them.

But they have the kind of bond that people usually have with their friends like where you can halfway read their mind and you don’t really have to say full sentences or anything they just get it.

Haley

Girl mom

OOOOOOOOF her daughter is the spitting image of her

Like her daughter knows EXACTLY what she’s going to look like.

Would probably dress her daughter up in expensive clothes and stuff and they’ll have mommy daughter dates where they get their nails done and go to a hair salon and go shopping and have their little drinks.

Her daughter would probably have a popular girl name because Haley would wanna set her up for success.

BUT unlike what people might think I think that Haley would be very…relaxed with her daughter if that makes sense

No almond mom shit

No making her feel bad

No being distant and distracted

Haley sometimes feels abandoned by her parents and I have a headcanon where even though she loves them and they love her they kinda made her feel shitty about certain things

Like her and her mother would get into arguments and her mother would say “I hope you have a daughter just like you so you can see how hard it is to deal with you!”

And after Haley has her daughter she sees that it isn’t really hard to love herself at all. Her daughter is just like her and it’s the easiest thing in the world to love her.

Abigail

Girl mom

I think Abigail would struggle with this at first because y’know I think out of all the bachelorettes she her up with the stereotypical roles in her household and even when she tried to go against it her parents wouldn’t let her

So when she has a girl she panics because what is she supposed to do? And she worries that she’ll be like her parents even though she does love and cherish them.

But as her daughter grows older she’ll relax more especially if her daughter is into video games and adventuring.

I think she would probably take her kid on hikes and stuff. Like she doesn’t really care for exercise but it’s kinda like adventuring going hiking.

So her daughter would grow up with a love for adventure and the outdoors but also with the knowledge that she could be into whatever and her mother will not judge and will always love her

Maru

Boy mom

I don’t know why but I can see her with a Spencer Reid son if that makes sense

A super nerd that’s super cute and lovable and also info dumps and inappropriate times

I think he would be space nerd instead of robot nerd and also maybe a bit of a bug/dinosaur nerd

And she’s like !!!!!! That’s so cool!!!!!!

They just talk for hours and hours infodumping at each other and everyone is like ??? What kind of conversation is that you’re both just taking turns talking for an hour straight???

BUT a difference is that she understands Demetrius’ position but also kinda is annoyed at him for his behavior

Like she would NEVER dream of holding her child back socially because she thinks his academic progress is more important

It kinda made her shit at socializing and she’s kinda grateful to have a partner and son that understand her

She wants him to be well rounded instead of just smart.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv headcanons #stardew headcanon #stardew valley headcanons #sdv shitpost #stardew shitpost #stardew valley shitpost #sdv sebastian #stardew Sebastian #stardew valley Sebastian #sdv Sam #stardew Sam #stardew valley Sam #stardew Harvey #stardew valley Harvey #sdv Harvey #sdv Haley #stardew Haley #stardew valley Haley #stardew Abigail #sdv Abigail #sdv Leah #stardew Leah #sdv Alex #sdv Emily #sdv penny #sdv Shane #sdv Elliott

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Alanna Vagianos at HuffPost:

Many Republicans want you to believe that women are getting abortions in the eighth and ninth months of pregnancy simply because they can. The right-wing rhetoric has been used to criticize abortion rights supporters and Democrats for years. Even Donald Trump — who up until recently consistently dodged the topic of abortion — has started repeating the myth.

Democrats “support abortion up to and even beyond the ninth month,” the GOP presidential nominee said last month. Democrats can “have [an abortion] in the seventh, eighth, ninth month, and they can kill the baby,” he said in another interview, adding that in some states “they can kill the baby after the baby is born.” Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) said this week that “there are late-term abortions and every single Democrat supported it.” (“Late-term abortion” is a popular right-wing talking point, but HuffPost is not using it because it’s medically inaccurate.) The belief that pregnant people use abortion like birth control is a well-worn boogeyman that the anti-choice movement has peddled for decades. Though rife with misinformation, the political strategy has been extremely successful, creating cultural stigma so deep around abortions later in pregnancy that many Democrats, including President Joe Biden, and even some pro-choice advocates, are uncomfortable discussing it.

But people do get abortions later in pregnancy — a phrase that generally reflects abortions at or after 21 weeks. Some are women with wanted pregnancies who get a fatal fetal diagnosis. Others are young people who don’t realize they’re pregnant or don’t have a safe way to get an abortion right away. Still, others experience something catastrophic and life-changing later in pregnancy — a partner becoming violent, their home burning down, a job loss — that will make it nearly impossible to safely raise a child. There’s also an increasing number of people pushed further into pregnancy because they experience barriers to care early on: their home state banned abortion forcing them to travel, or their immigration status makes it dangerous for them to seek health care, or they need to save up for the procedure because it’s not covered by insurance.

No one is getting an abortion in the second or third trimester because they woke up one day, months into being pregnant, and decided they didn’t want to be pregnant anymore. But the politically manufactured shame around later abortion care runs so deep that many Democrats believe it too, in part because of the power of these lies. Biden has centered his reelection campaign around restoring Roe v. Wade, and advocates are building policy around it too, protecting abortion care until viability or around 24 weeks — effectively ignoring those who will need care later in pregnancy.

“One of the mistakes we’ve made as a movement is to not talk about later care,” said Dr. Diane Horvath, an OB-GYN and abortion provider at Partners In Abortion Care, an abortion clinic in Maryland where 90% of her patients receive care in the second and third trimesters. “I think we thought we were protecting ourselves by being quiet about it,” she said. “But when you leave gaps in the narrative … anti-abortion folks have always been very happy to fill them in with things that are scary and incorrect, and really debase people who have abortions and debase people who provide them.” Most abortions do happen in the first trimester: Almost 93% of abortions reported to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in 2020 were done before the 13th week. Nearly 99% took place by the end of the 20th week. Somewhere around 1% of abortions occur at 21 weeks or later, and the subset of abortions in the third trimester (around 26 weeks) is even smaller.

[...]

Even under the best of circumstances, with a lot of privilege and resources, getting an abortion in the third trimester when Roe was still intact was extremely difficult. “The whole time we’re asking ourselves, ‘What would we have done if any of these pieces were not in place? What if we couldn’t have accessed that money quickly? What if we didn’t have IDs that allowed us to get on a plane? What if we didn’t read and speak English?’” recalled Christensen, who along with her husband founded the abortion strategy and advocacy group Patient Forward.

In 2020, 9% of people who accessed abortions had to travel out of their home state to receive care, according to The Guttmacher Institute. Three years later, after the Dobbs decision that repealed Roe, that number has doubled with around 20% of patients seeking care across state lines. (That number does not account for the increase in medication abortion by mail, a common access point for pregnant people in the first trimester post-Roe.) Horvath and Morgan Nuzzo, a certified nurse midwife, opened Partners in Abortion Care shortly after the Supreme Court repealed Roe v. Wade in the summer of 2022. The two met working at a Planned Parenthood clinic, but didn’t become close until Nuzzo was pregnant with her first child, and Horvath offered some hand-me-down baby clothes from her kids. Partners in Abortion Care in College Park, Maryland, is one of a small handful in the country that offer all-trimester abortion care. During the first year the clinic was opened, they saw patients from 40 different states and three countries.

Their clinic sees about 10 to 15 patients a week ― nearly all of whom are getting abortions after 20 weeks. The clinic caps the number of patients they see weekly because later care takes more time. Unlike early care, which can often be done using abortion pills, abortions in the second and third trimester are more complex. An abortion between 20 and 26 weeks is typically a two-day procedure, and past 26 weeks is a three-day procedure.

HuffPost explores the stigma of those who get an abortion post-fetal viability and how anti-abortion propaganda (such as falsely calling post-fetal viability abortions "late term abortions") plays a role in creating such stigmas.

Those who choose abortion in the later half of the 2nd or the 3rd trimester do so because of extenuating circumstances.

Post-fetal viability = anywhere after 21-25 weeks in gestational age.

#Abortion #Reproductive Health #Anti Abortion Extremism #Abortion Stigma #Fetal Viability #Post Fetal Viability Abortion

[thefrogdalorian]

Going to be very off-topic for just a sec, but given how that campaign is all over my dash, I feel like I can't go on ignoring the emotions it provokes in me. Plus, since this is such a common struggle, I hope that maybe some of you can relate and I want you to know that you aren't alone at all.

If you're also struggling with your emotions over this and you need someone to talk to in confidence, I'm here for you. I understand.

Anyway, warning for mentions of alcohol abuse below the cut:

It's always fascinating to me how alcohol is marketed as this positive thing which brings you happiness and a great social life. When in reality, it often destroys relationships and lives and is, by definition, a depressant. It is a substance which often leaves you unhappier, fatter, lonelier, weaker, sicker, poorer...

And also, do you ever notice how it's never marketed around the taste (because it's literally poisonous and due to social pressure, we have to trick our brains by drinking it enough times that we eventually convince ourselves we actually like the taste of poison)?

It's always about sharing a beer with friends at the beach or enjoying a glass of wine with a meal. Never about how delicious it tastes...

While you may crave the feeling of being drunk, do most people really enjoy the taste and that's the primary reason why they drink? Is that the main reason given at AA meetings/rehab clinics? Do you ever hear alcoholics say: "I couldn't stop drinking that beer because it was just so crisp and refreshing!"

No, of course not. Alcohol is primarily used as a social crutch, or as an escape from one's problems. Dutch courage, social drinking where you feel giggly, giddy and tipsy... until one day you realise you can't socialise without it and it transforms from enjoyment to dependency, hopefully before you permanently damaged your organs...

Anyway, this isn't me being puritanical. I'm not mad at these campaigns or those who star in them, because at the end of the day, celebrities will always take cash from questionable sources. Money talks. Always has, always will.

It's merely an observation on the life this campaign 'sells,' as someone who has decided to break the generational cycle of alcoholism in my family and has been sober for 18 months now.

And a way for me to sort through my feelings and vent my own emotions around these kinds of campaigns. I don't miss alcohol and I don't feel tempted to drink whatsoever, but it's everywhere and there will remain a danger for the rest of my life that I could forget everything I've learned about alcohol. I don't want to lose sight of why I walked away from this destructive drug which is so widely accepted. When the truth is it is far more harmful to you than many illegal drugs.

If you enjoy alcohol, I truly hope you have fun with it in moderation. But I hope you can also stop and recognise the risks involved each time you reach for the bottle. The slippery slope you may be on which there is a danger you don't realise you've been sliding down until you're at the bottom, looking back up. And I hope you realise that what these advertising campaigns show are never rooted in the reality of what this substance can do to you.

If you start drinking that beer, it's far more likely you'll end up with kidney damage than you will ever get to share a cold bottle of it on the beach with that actor you love so much...

#alcohol #sobriety #alcoholism #alcoholic #addiction awareness #613 days sober and counting :) #spud rants #personal #<- like VERY personal but i needed to get this out #and as i said if anyone wants to talk i'm here! i get it! #i've long ago stopped caring about what silly decisions stupid famous people make but a small part of me can't help but wish he picked #something ANYTHING else to market #gorgeous talented in demand actor with the world at his feet chooses to work with an industry which causes so much death and destructionSAD #like every industry does lol im not naive but yeah i clearly feel personally towards this one #so im gonna feel weird about it and also not interact with any more of it #i did this morning but my emotions caught up with me the rest of the day #one day i'll write something about how many alcoholics are likely undiagnosed nd people but thats another day #anyway din djarin shitposts will resume shortly i feel better for getting this off my chest lol

[victorluvsalice]

-->And the moment I arrived, THERE was the holiday overlay! Whew – so changing lots got the game to acknowledge the holiday. Still worrying, but at least my Sims could PARTICIPATE!

First things first, though – it was hot in Brindleton, so I had Smiler change into their hot weather wear (as Alice and Victor had already done so – vampires are immune to temperature, so they don’t automatically change, which can be a little annoying sometimes), then start looking around for a good spot for the food stand while Victor felt the love with Shadow and Alice signed up Surprise to be cured of her affliction. I finally got Smiler to put the stand in a good location as Alice and Surprise waited for the vet, made sure it was stocked, and prepared to start a food sale –

Only for the game to tell me it couldn’t have “two social events” going on at the same time. Hmmm. All right, I was game to wait until after Surprise was cured. I instead had Smiler entertain Kelly with a laser pointer to pass the time –

-->And decided, “you know what, Victor’s Pet Training skill is almost up to Level 4, meaning leveling it up would count toward New Skill Day – why not train Shadow to heel?” So that’s exactly what he did, getting the dog to follow him around outside the hospital. Shadow was – a BIT distracted by her own tail at first, but as time went on she got better at keeping pace with Victor. XD I then checked in on how things were going with Surprise’s examination...

Only to discover they weren’t. For some reason, midway through the exam, the vet just stopped what she was doing, and Surprise was let go without anyone even trying to diagnose what was wrong with her. >( Damn glitchy game...I instead decided to have Alice get Shock spayed instead and see what happened there – fortunately THAT worked, and it went a lot faster too. Maybe because both vets were awake and working this time, instead of one sleeping on the waiting room couch. XD (Seriously, that ALWAYS seems to happen when I first load into the lot for some reason...) Alice was starting to get twitchy from being around all those strangers, though, so I had Smiler sign Surprise up for examination number two and let her clear her head by running off to a far-away dig site to see what was inside. Ended up digging up a new fossil rock with a fossilized egg inside, nice. :) She then went and entertained poor coned Shock with some laser pointer in the vet’s back yard while Smiler chatted with Brant Hecking inside the vet (learning he was a Personal Sports Trainer for The Other Sports Team, apparently) –

And Victor got Pet Training 4 from working with Shadow! :D One person’s New Skill Day skill down – two to go!

-->But first – finally getting Surprise cured! Yes, this time Surprise got checked over by the OTHER vet, who successfully determined she had Winterfest Fever. Smiler paid the big bucks for the best treatment (as I say so often, my Sims can afford it), and the cat was given a shot that brought her back to normal. I was very pleased with this, both because hooray, the vet lot decided to work –

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #very relieved to see that holiday overlay pop up #New Skill Day is one of the better pop-up holidays #encourages your Sims to try new things #or improve old ones a bit #been meaning to improve Victor's pet-training skill #and now Shadow is better trained as well nice #always important that your dog knows how to heel! #also always important to get good vet techs at your clinic #dunno what happened with Surprise's first examination #maybe the tech was surprised by Alice's super-speeding in? #all I know is that it canceled out and poor Surprise had to wait around #until the other vet tech woke up and did her job #oh Sims 4 why are you like this XD #at least she got cured in the end! #and then immediately abandoned because the Sims had other things to do #on the other hand she's a Free Spirit so that's not so bad #but still #the vet tech at least could have stuck around #(Smiler was too busy getting told to do food-related things as you will see shortly) #queued

[hislittleraincloud]

Blood Draw with a Cute Mexican Daddy 🌯 🌮💦

To the best of my recollection, as I'd gone into the City (S.F....I live where Enid lives) for bloodwork before I catch up with my specialist today. BG: I hate the incompetence of this clinic, but as a Poor, I must go there. It's LGBTQ+ friendly and is known for its 🏳️‍⚧️ care. I hadn't had this phlebotomist before, though. I was thinking of working it into Afterburn, but I'll do something else that's similar. This one tickled me.

Me: This time you guys need to get what you need to get from me in this one shot. Last time you asked me to come in for a similar thing, I sat here and made sure that the nurses double checked the list of needs, and they still called me the next day saying that they forgot something. I cannot come into this clinic or anywhere where my immunocompromised ass can get sick and die from COVID.

Funky Cold*: Uh...okay. I get you, I've got all that the doctor asked for right here.

Me: *notes his several tubes* That's why I wear my mask and goggles everywhere. *notes his mask is pulled over his chin* But I do like to be able to see your beard.

FC: *instantly blushes* Thanks...*proceeds to try and find a vein on my right arm and is failing*

Me: Did you want to try my left arm? It's where I usually get it drawn from. The vein is easier to see.

FC: Yeah, sure. *I could tell he felt like a bit of a failure...but he was still grinning and bright*

Me: *unsheaths left arm from jacket and puts it on the armrest* Hold on a sec, let me help you. *PROCEEDS TO SMACK THE EVERLOVING SHIT OUT OF THE CROOK OF ARM, HARD*

FC: *looks shocked but nervously so* Whoa!

Me: It's fine. Do you need me to do it some more?

FC: NO... *sees that it's red and doesn't know what to say*

Me: Are you sure? I like pain.

FC: *is shaking his head and getting ready to insert his needle* Tell me something, though: Is it raining outside?

Me: Unfortunately no.

FC: ...Unfortunately???

Me: I love the rain.

FC: Yeah, but that means I'd have to take an Uber.

Me: *ttly confused since it seems like it would be more dangerous to take a stranger's car than BART*

FC: *delays the pricking, proceeds to tell me about how taking an Uber instead of walking to BART if it was raining would spare him from getting drenched*

Me: Huh. I guess that's fine if you don't like to get wet. You sure you don't need me to hit it some more? I should let you hit it...*quieter* Smack...oo Daddy, gimme more.

FC: No, you're good, heh... *has a real nervous grin on his face as he sticks it in and fills tube after tube as I just stare at his beard and talk more about why I just can't come in as often as I used to*...*finishes up and pulls it out (odd, because usually the phlebotomist will just hit the spring to retract), almost jumps up with a grin, huffs*

Me: What?

FC: *pinked, huge nervous grin, chuckling* Nothing, you're just the first one all day who's gotten me all...WOO! *more chuckling*

Me: I tend to have that effect on people.

*Gen X will get this ref, and the poor man's last name is the rest of the song title (I think, I had trouble reading his name badge because of my poor eyesight/goggles...plus his name badge was on his belt and he probably thought i was looking at his 🍆).

#this was also at the very end of the day for the clinic because i came in hella late #he kinda looked like Jenna Ortega's dad LOL #i guess i really am just trans afterburn wednesday #lol #off topic #sort of #life crap #phlebotomists #blood draw #use your imagination to think about how it was like before i transitioned #👹🔥

[baccan0pe]

.

#yesterday i realized my new coworker knows very little abt cats and when she learns a new thing about one she automatically applies it to #All Cats because she doesnt know any better #bc i was telling her that i was holding a very kitten the day before and she wasnt really responding or putting up a fight about it. wasnt #squirming around and acting like a kitten and that was really worrying me #because the last time i had a cat act like that she ended up dying (not solely by my own neglect #but bc clinic also dropped so many balls i handed to them) #and then the kitten ended up hospitalized the next day (again. clinic dropping balls i was begging them to catch) #and then later i was holding a different kitten that was just curled up in a little ball on my lap bc he was scared and i said something abt #how timid he was and my coworker went 'oh so hes not sick??' and i had to reassure her that not Every cat that sits still for a while is #gonna die #sighs #i was like. aw shit i gave her a new fear

[jazzyoranges]

Can you write a friends with benefits situation Wednesday or Tara has with gp reader? Wednesday or Tara enforces a no strings attach policy but of course reader has to catch feelings and admits their feelings. It freaks Tara/wednesday and causes her to push them away and ghost them effectively hurting the reader who after a while tries to rebound with another girl causing major jealousy from Tara/Wednesday. You can choose the ending I just wanna see some jealous smut and angst mix in there 😩

She’s my Collar

Wednesday Addams x fem!werewolf!reader

Words: 4.6k (whoopsies)

Warnings: gp!reader, definitely ooc Wednesday, heat cycles, unprotected sex, knotting, explicit smut, everyone is 18+, Wednesday calls you a mutt and a puppy, breeding kink, is it really pet play if you’re actually a pet?, italian/spanish pet names and phrases, possessive Wednesday, fluff, angst i think

A/n: so sorry it took so long for me to write this anon who requested 😓 could be read as a prequel to this fic, but not specifically written as one. also i kinda strayed away from the original request, sorry about that too 😭🫶

MINORS DNI!

Wednesday didn’t want to admit it, but she was feeling a certain emotion that was completely undesirable. You’ve been out sick for an entire week. Wednesday hadn’t seen you in the last 8 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes. But who was counting? Definitely not the Addams girl

Others would say Wednesday looked the same as any other week, but Enid’s roommate senses were tingling. Constantly fiddling with her rings, the very prominent scowl on her face that was meaner than usual, and the common frustrated grunts when Wednesday would make a mistake with her writing. Something was up, and not even god herself couldn’t stop Enid from figuring it out

While Wednesday was smart in every aspect except social, Enid’s people smarts came in useful every now and again. It really didn’t take long for her to piece two and two together. Angry roommate while someone she frequently hung out with was out sick? It was child’s play, really. All she needed to do was have Wednesday come to the same conclusion as her

Easier said that done, really. Wednesday was a knucklehead not so smart when it came to emotions. Any emotion other than creating despair, Wednesday struggled with. Luckily Enid was dedicated and also a knucklehead

Currently Wednesday was seated at her desk, simply staring at a blank piece of paper without moving. On any normal day her fingers would be speeding across the typewriter with ideas constantly coming to her. Now she was met with absolute digital silence from her mind, which proved to be discouraging and inconvenient to say the least

“Alright, Wednesday. What’s going on?”

“I have not a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been different this entire week. Spill the beans”

“As I’ve just said, I don’t have the information you want.”

“It’s because you haven’t seen her all week, right? You miss her, don’t you?”

“Why would I miss that mutt of a werewolf? I do not miss Y/n.”

“I never said her name, yet you know exactly who I’m talking about. Funny how that works, Wednesday” Enid teases. Her roomie has been caught red handed

“If you want your tongue, I’d recommend you stop talking.”

“Cmon, Wednesday, I’m being serious. It’s not weird to miss a friend. How about you check up on her?”

“First, I do not miss her. Second, she is definitely fine. I do not need to check up on her.”

“She’s been out sick for an entire week. She texted me just today the sickness isn’t showing any signs of stopping”

“Why has she not called the nurse, then?”

“She told me they ran out of the medicine she needs. The sickness is werewolf specific. I’ve gotten it before and it hurt like a bitch without medicine”

“What kind of school clinic runs out of medicine?” Wednesday says under her breath while getting up. Presumably to check on you, Enid assumes

“It’s really high in demand right now. It only infects werewolves, so you won’t catch it”

“I suppose I’ll ask Y/n on the specifics of her current condition. Perhaps it could be a part in my writings.”

“I’m sure it will be, Wednesday. Tell me how it goes!” Enid waves goodbye to Wednesday as she exits, and the Addams misses her roommates wolfish grin

Luckily your dorm isn’t too far away from Ophelia hall but it’s still a considerable walk to and from. The walk there gives Wednesday enough time to really question why she was doing this. She did not care for you, that was most definitely certain. At least that’s what Wednesday kept telling herself when she neared your room

The Addams girl hesitated before she knocked on your door. She could hear you whimpering and whining in pain, your tail quickly thumping against your bed. The shorter girl bit the bullet and held her fist against the door, quickly knocking on it

“Open up, Y/n or I’ll be forced to axe down your door.”

“Go away, Wednesday” Your voice was muffled

“Either I pick your lock or you open this door. Make your decision.”

Wednesday hears your feel shuffle to the door, and you open it just enough for your eye to peek out. Wednesday immediately notices your flushed skin and dark eye bags. You’re only wearing a tank top and boxers, trying to hide your lower body behind the door

“What do you want?” You spit out a bit more aggressively than you mean to

“I’ve come to check up on your illness”

“I’m uh- I’m okay. You can go now, Wednesday”

“You obviously aren’t, you haven’t gone to your classes all week.”

“Listen, I’m not actually sick. If I tell you what’s actually happening, promise you won’t freak out?”

“I promise.”

You suck in a breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in heat. The school clinic ran out of suppressants, so I haven’t been able to come to classes”

Wednesday looked you up and down, and in a split second she felt something she hadn’t before. Something about how your wolfish features came out. Ears were pressed against your head, tail hung low and swaying softly, and Wednesday noticed your fangs poke out when you spoke

“Let me help you.”

“W-What?” You momentarily stoped holding the door, and Wednesday let herself inside. Wednesday was immediately hit with a musk that was so… you. Werewolves weren’t her major, but she could tell you’ve marked your entire room with your own scent. Something about it made Wednesday’s mind think of all the unspeakable things she wanted to do to you

“Uh, sorry for the mess. And sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad…” You shift on your feet, and it’s only then Wednesday notices the tent in your boxers. Quickly mumbling out apology after apology, you move your tail so it covers your growing erection

“Stop apologizing, it’s getting quite annoying. I said I’d help you, did I not?”

“Help me like..?”

“Yes. Help you as in having sexual intercourse”

Your cheeks flush red and you have to actively stop your tail from wagging in excitement. Wednesday takes a step closer, but you take a step back

“A-Are you sure? You’re human, and I’m a werewolf. Your body isn’t designed to handle our heats”

Wednesday takes another step closer to you, grabbing your neck to make you look straight in her eyes. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your throat

“I decide what I can handle.” The shorter girl firmly gropes at your clothed erection, and you moan at the contact

“Wednesday, I-”

“A dumb puppy is what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you were in heat?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d care” When Wednesday starts to massage your clothed cock more roughly, she earns another moan out of your throat

“Please, please make it better, Wednesday. It hurts so fucking much” You whimper, and Wednesday wonders if you’d look good in a collar with her name on it. She’d have to save that idea for a different day.

“Puppy.”

“Wednesday?”

“Take everything off. I want to see all of you.”

Wordlessly, you start to strip, which doesn’t take long since you’re barely wearing any clothes. Your mindless obedience made Wednesday happy. You start with your tank top and the Addams chooses to observe every part of you. Wednesday notices you’re considerably more furry than usual, your happy trail showing just above your boxer briefs

“Are you sure?” You ask nervously when you reach your boxers, and Wednesday is getting considerably more impatient

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Wednesday mutters while she takes off your boxers instead. The shorter girl sucks in a breath when your hardened cock slaps against your stomach

Wednesday didn’t expect you to be so… lewdly big. Looking at the size of your erection only reminded her your body was meant to breed. You were designed to reproduce, and the thought turned Wednesday on more than she liked

The shorter girl pushes you onto your bed, and she takes a second to look at the state you’re in

“Please, Wednesday…” You whine

“Be patient, Y/n. You’ll get there eventually”

“It hurts so much, please I can’t wait” Begging harder, Wednesday doesn’t likehow her first instinct is to give you what you want

“You’re lucky I tolerate you. If you were any other person, I’d think this was dehumanizing.” She pushes you further back, licking a stripe up your tip and across a vein. You have to stop yourself from cumming embarrassingly quick

Wednesday keeps giving your shaft long kitten-licks and you’re in heaven when she finally decides to suck your tip with a new type of hunger.

And due to previous attempts at suppressing your heat by yourself, your cock was absolutely raw at how much you masturbated. It only made Wednesday’s tongue feel even better

She hollows out her cheeks, making your tip hit the back of her throat. This earns a groan from the back of your throat. You didn’t know if touching was allowed due to her track record of broken arms and hands, so you decide to play it safe by just holding onto your bedsheets for dear life

“F-Fuck, I’m about to-“ Before you can finish your sentence, Wednesday pulls away from your cock. The look on your face is something Wednesday would like to cherish. Your penis was twitching like crazy. It was drooling with pre-cum and the shorter girls saliva. She couldn’t help but admire how you shook under her

“Why’d you stop?” Whining seemed to be a strong suit of yours

“In me.” Wednesday wipes a bit of her saliva off her chin, and you swear it’s the most attractive thing ever “Now.”

“Huh?”

“You know what I mean. Really, do I always have to spell it out for you?”

“You have to cut me some slack here, Wens…”

“I suppose I could provide an understanding for your view. You’re nothing but a dumb pup, are you not? Your kind is known to follow orders.”

“I think you’re confusing me with a domesticated dog, Wednesday”

“If I were to demand you pluck stars from the night, you would, would you not?”

“I mean I would, but for different reasons…”

“My point still stands.” Wednesday mumbles, sinking down on your erection. You don’t remember when she got naked, but you’re also not exactly complaining

The Addams holds onto your shoulders for support, and you hesitate before putting your hands on her hips. Luckily you made the right choice, your warm hands directly polar to Wednesday’s.

It takes a little effort for Wednesday to completely take in your cock, but the stretch is worth it when she sees your labored breathing like she’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. Which, Wednesday wouldn’t admit she was proud of. She could feel every vein on your cock and every twitch made her spiral into thoughts of you

The sight is funny, you think. The Wednesday Addams is impaled on your cock. The Wednesday Addams that saved Nevermore. The Wednesday Addams that was notorious for being gorgeously scary. That Wednesday Addams was riding your dick like her life depended on it.

Skin slapping together was music to your ears, and the feeling in your lower stomach you recognized well was rapidly building up. Wednesday came with a hitch in her breath, and you reluctantly pulled out before releasing your own cum with a groan. Both of you are left breathing hard.

“There will be a silver bullet in your skull if you so much as think about telling anyone about this.” Wednesday mutters in between breaths.

“Duly noted.”

—

You’ve been in this arrangement with Wednesday for about 4 months, now

The first month consisted of a casual fuck here and there. After a particularly hard week, teachers being annoying, or a hard test. It wasn’t difficult to keep your situation away from your friends. For all they knew, you two were still the platonic match-made-in-hell duo that were strictly friends

The second month was a little harder to keep your situation away from your friends. Wednesday would randomly pull you into any empty closet or classroom she could for a quick orgasm to get her through the day

The third month was rough. You two went on dates as you liked to call it, but Wednesday would call them study sessions or hangouts. Trips to Jericho on the weekend, Wednesday helping you with botany, it was practically impossible to separate both of you. Unfortunately your friends became suspicious

So during the fourth month, a new vampire transferred to Nevermore. You were assigned to give her a tour of the school and her classes. When Wednesday saw you two hang out when you’d usually see the Addams, she suspected the tour went better than anticipated. What Wednesday expected to be a minor inconvenience for one day, caused her many unwanted thoughts. It made a vein pop out of her neck. (not literally, but that’s what it felt like)

Wednesday noticed how you two started spending more time together after and during school. Of course there was definitely a reasonable explanation, you were her only friend. Unfortunately a very minuscule part of her brain is telling her you like the new vampire more than the Addams. The thought didn’t sit right with her

You were supposed to be Wednesday’s. You were supposed to only have eyes for the Addams and not some vampire that doesn’t even make you half as happy as her. You would always be Wednesday’s. When you finally realized the vampire wasn’t enough to satiate your needs, Wednesday would be there. She would be there to catch your fall, and the thought made her uncomfortable.

Wednesday Addams, a feared individual that wore her heart tucked under enough layers of blunt sarcasm and a deathly scary look, yet once glance from you sent her spiraling into something between fear and love. She hated it. She hated you. Wednesday hated you for bringing this side out of her she swore to be kept away from the surface of her character.

The Addams couldn’t afford this. You were her weakness. You definitely knew this as well. Unwanted doubt flooded her mind. Thoughts that ended up with you exploiting her only weakness made her heart ache, and not in a way she enjoyed.

You would end up breaking off your relationship with the Addams, leaving her to be made a fool as you were the only one that could do it. The worst part is Wednesday couldn’t even be angry with you. She knew you deserved someone of your own kind. Another werewolf that would understand and satiate your needs. Wednesday would end the arrangement the next time she saw you.

—

“(L/n).”

“Wednesday?” You open up your door with a smile on your face. A sight for sore eyes is what you were.

“We cannot continue our arrangement.”

“What? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wednesday wished she could take back her words, but she was doing this to keep herself safe. To make you happy.

“Our late night meetings can no longer continue. I’ve grown uncomfortable with your presence.”

“Wednesday, I-“

“A nuisance is what you are. You’re needy, and you can’t do anything by yourself. You really are just a dumb mutt. You are incapable of doing anything except cling to me like a lost child.” Wednesday spits out, and something akin to regret dawns on her face

Stray tears leave your eyes and you wipe them up as quickly as they fall, but Wednesday notices. She can tell you’re trying to be strong, your quivering lip giving you away

“I’m- I’m sorry you feel that way, Addams.” You say before turning your back on Wednesday, closing the door. Broken sobs escape your throat, and Wednesday brings her hand up to your doorknob. She thinks a little longer before a single tear falls from her eye. She turns to leave instead.

—

Three weeks, nearing four since you’ve last talked to Wednesday. You’ve been out for a week and a half and Wednesday knows exactly why. Since the Addams has been helping with your heats for the past few months, you haven’t needed to request for more suppressants. Neither you nor Wednesday knew why your heats were commonly hell-ish and lasted for weeks without the suppressants you desperately needed

Really, she could picture you right now. You would’ve found the boxers that created the least amount of friction, and you’d be whimpering and whining while your tail rapidly thumped against the bed mattress. Finding the nearest thing to bite, which usually happened to be your bed frame, you’d sink your teeth into the cold wood and find a splinter on your tongue the next time you brushed your teeth. Rinse and repeat until you eventually fell asleep or Wednesday saved you from your own body

It was pathetic how much you constantly needed Wednesday…and consequently, how much Wednesday needed you.

Disgusting is the only word Wednesday can choose when thinking of how much space in her mind you took up. She was seated in the Quad while eating an apple and contemplating her life. Which, was not in an ideal situation.

“I know you want to talk to her, Wednesday” Enid takes a seat near the shorter girl

“I do not.”

“I know for a fact you didn’t mean what you said. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to realize it”

“She has that new girl, does she not?”

“For the last time, Wednesday, they aren’t dating”

“They may as well be. The two are practically attached at the hip”

“So were you two, but then you decided to fuck it all up and haven’t talked to her since” Enid groans. This is was going to be harder than she thought

“Wednesday, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Annoyingly so.”

“Not-so-respectfully, you fucked up really bad. I know you didn’t mean it, but would you rather see her kiss another girl, or would you rather be the girl she kisses?”

The question makes Wednesday hesitate, and relief washes over Enid. Did she want to be with you? She mentally scoffs at the thought. The Wednesday Addams uncharacteristically soft for a girl. Outrageous. Disgusting. Absolutely unheard-

“Well, it seems you have your answer. Talk to her right now, ‘kay?” Enid knew her roomie would do the right thing even if it was gut wrenchingly difficult

The shorter girl only responds with a grumble, but it’s enough of an answer for Enid to skip away and continue being the social butterfly she was. Wednesday was going to… apologize to you. Just thinking of the word made her recoil, but it was you she was going to. As much as Wednesday didn’t like apologizing, she didn’t want to admit the thought of being away from you any longer was the worse option

She was almost in the same exact situation almost five months ago. Only this time you were sad, and it was Wednesday’s job to make you feel better (in more ways than one)

It didn’t take long getting to your dorm. She knew all of the correct routes and shortcuts to take. Wednesday was met with a tightly locked door and a knob that had collected dust after the past week and a half. She brought a hand to the door, knocking loudly

The Addams was only met with silence. That is, silence, with the exception of stray whines and whimpers

“It’s Wednesday.” Silence again.

“I know you’re in there. Ignore me and I’ll find other means to see you.” More silence

“You’ve made your decision.” The shorter girl sighs, taking a lock pick from her uniform pocket. Why she had a lock pick? For important situations like these, of course

When Wednesday finally managed to unlock your door, she noticed how you looked considerably worse than the first time the Addams decided to help you with your heat

What Wednesday didn’t expect was you fully naked sprawled on your bed. Bite marks littered your bed frame and a chew toy Wednesday bought to mock you, but it ended up being somewhat helpful. A low quality fan spun, only making your scent waft around the room even more. An air freshener was mentally added to her list of things to buy

“Go away, Wednesday.” You growled. You never growled. “If you’re here to mock me and call me a nuisance, I’d recommend you leave”

“I came to help.”

“You’ve full of bullshit, aren’t you?”

“I’m not lying, Y/n.”

“Go away, Wednesday, I’m not going to say it again.” The Addams only took this as an invitation to step closer to your bed where you were laying face down and a light blanket to cover your ass

When you only heard footsteps near, something inside you snapped. You were a werewolf. Not a puppy that said please with a tail between your legs. No, you would make Wednesday leave. Also you were sexually frustrated while in heat, so that was definitely fuel to your sour mood

Before she could register what had happened, you pinned the smaller girl to the floor. Your pupils contracted into small circles while there was a permanent snarl on your face

“I said, go away.” Your erection accidentally brushes against Wednesday’s thigh, and she was suddenly aware of how much self control you had for not already relentlessly stuffing the shorter girl full of your cum

“Knot me, cucciola.”

When the words leave Wednesday’s mouth, something in you changes. You’re overcome with sinful thoughts, and your cock starts to drool with precum at the image of Wednesday being full of you. It’s sinful, truly

“Is that why you came here? Just to be bred?”

“No, but it seems my words are working. You’re incredibly hard.” The shorter girl grabs your erection, jerking you off roughly

“Puppy.”

“Don’t… don’t call me that.” You say in between moans. Wednesday starts to sit up, and your back meets the side of your bed frame

“Cucciola wants to breed?”

“F-Fuck you.”

“We’re getting there, mi sol” The pet name accidentally slips, but you’re far too blissed out to notice

“She can’t make you feel as good as me, can she?”

“W-What? Who are you talking about?”

“You know who. The vampire that can’t get her hands off you.”

“Wednesday, we’re no-“ The shorter girl only started to stroke you faster. Her hand barely fit around your cock, but it still felt like heaven

“I don’t- I don’t like her that way” You say in between moans. Your orgasm was nearing and Wednesday knew this. She slowed down her pace, and you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation

“Knot me.”

“Huh?”

“Show me you don’t like her the way you like me.” You only notice your proximity after she speaks. Your noses are only inches apart. Wednesday’s eyes flick down to your lips, and you quickly close the distance

Wednesday was an addiction. Nicotine, acid, weed, none of it compared to how you felt while kissing Wednesday. You’d get drunk off her taste and crave it until she was in your arms once again. It was hell without her

When the shorter girl accidentally grinds on you, a surge of lust runs through your body. You quickly pick her up with your lips still attached to hers and take off her skirt. You couldn’t go another second without being in Wednesday

Sinking her onto your hardened erection, you let out a gasp of pleasure when her velvety walls stretch at your intrusion. You’re holding up her body by her thighs, and Wednesday just wishes you’d go faster.

“Cucciolo, ti amo.” The Addams moans when she looks down to see she’s only taken half of your length in her pussy. The sight is rather lewd, Wednesday thinks. Your cock is absolutely dripping with pre-cum when you push yourself further in her

“Mierda. Más, cachorro. Tan bueno para mi.” Wednesday slips into her native tongue. You haven’t seen her like this any other time she’s… helped you out

Bringing your lips to hers again, you decide to be in control when you push your tongue into her mouth. Eyes half lidded, bangs sticking to her forehead, and hair a bit disheveled, you think she’s never been prettier.

You let Wednesday rest a bit before sinking your cock deeper into her cunt, and the Addams ends up scratching you hard enough small amounts blood start to drip down your back. The sensation takes you by surprise. Accidentally bucking your hips up further into Wednesday, the girl lets out a groan as she fully takes your length in her pussy.

Placing her on the bed, you notice a tiny bulge in her stomach. You decide to be bold. Pressing your thumb against the intrusion, you hear a sound you’ve never heard before

Wednesday whimpers at your touch.

You do it again.

Her cunt squeezes around your cock, making it harder for you to keep thrusting. But you’re a wolf in heat and Wednesday is incredibly horny, so you continue your movements.

“Sh-She’ll never- she’ll never be as good as you, Wens…” An unexpected growl comes from deep within your throat

“No one can take my cock as good as you…” You’re thrusting considerably faster when Wednesday looks back down at where you two meet. The scenario folding out is a sight for sore eyes, the Addams thinks. You, feeding into your primal urges like it’s an unstoppable beast; and Wednesday willingly taking it in however she can.

“Cara mia.”

“Mine… mine all mine. No one else but mine…” You whimper a little pathetically, but the girl below you is only focused on your thrusts. Her cold hands find their way to your back again, leaving a trail of blood behind

“Yours, puppy. All yours.” Wednesday feeds into your possessive behavior. She knows she shouldn’t, but with you thoughts of reason leave her head and are replaced with thoughts of you

“Were you serious about the knotting, Wens?”

“Deathly.”

“Are you- mph~ sure? It’s kinda big…” The girl under you looks down again, and your ever growing knot seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. Even horny out of your mind, you still wanted to make sure your mate was alright.

…you decide to ignore that thought.

Your eyes were trained on how your erection stretched out Wednesday. Her pussy would be yours, and yours alone. Nobody would make her feel as good as you did. You’d make sure she wouldn’t need anyone else’s cock but yours.

A breathy moan erupts from your throat when you start to actively try to push your knot into Wednesday

“Relax for me Wens, it’ll never go in unless you want it too” You feel her tensed under your touch, but your words are enough for her to relax

Every thrust you get closer, until you eventually start to reach your peak. You can tell Wednesday is too. Her hair is messy and both of your bodies are littered with marks of possession.

“I-I’m so close Wens…” Are the last words you say before succeeding in pushing your knot into the Addams girl. You cum inside of Wednesday’s pussy, and the swell of your knot inside her is enough for Wednesday to cum impaled on your cock. The feeling of being full is an experience Wednesday wished she did with you far sooner.

You wiggle your hips to seemingly get more comfortable inside of Wednesday, but the movement only makes her moan. She was sensitive as hell.

“…was that enough proof I like you more than I like her?”

“More than enough, (Y/n).”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #wednsday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday (2022) #jenna marie ortega #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wednesday x y/n

[auroreliis]

Batfam would have to do research on my special interests if they want to win me over fast but also the thought of super serious Bruce and Damian watching/reading jojos bizarre adventure is really funny to me

Absolutely they would. For you, they would binge every show, play every game and read every paragraph of a book just to have something in common with you. They would all do it for different reasons, but in the end, you would have to listen to them outnerd you.

Bruce's regard for your interests is wholesome. He genuinely wants to know what makes you happy, what you do in your free time, what you could talk about for hours. In order to be able to listen to you talk for hours, he surrounds himself with your interests. You like this artist? He buys a few of their most popular albums. This game is entertaining to you? He either tries it out or watches you play it. There's this film you're excited about? He watches it with you.

Although most of your interests are different, he does actually find himself enjoying anything you enjoy. Perhaps it reminds him of you.

Dick has this one fear. He believes that no matter how persistent he is, if you aren't reciprocating his clinginess, the two of you will grow apart eventually, so he never leaves you alone, even when you beg him to. It isn't really a secret, as he makes it quite obvious, but he hopes you will one day embrace him as he embraces you. You probably get sick of him and tell him how boring he is, which shatters his heart completely.

Now he has to figure out a way to spend time with you, but he needs to make sure you are also enjoying his company, lest you hurt him with your cruelty once more, so he researches every last fact about your interests, be it an activity, a game, a book, a person, he knows everything about it. Dick doesn't want to make it obvious that he only found out this information the night prior, so he cautiously needs to start a conversation.

He most likely waits until you are occupied with your interest before walking up to you, "Hey, is that _____? Wow, I used to be obsessed with it as a kid, I'm suprised you even know it, it isn't that popular and it's quite old." He pats your head and sits down next to you, grinning as you start rambling about it to him. You are actually talking to him. It worked.

Jason is careful when sharing his interests with you. He needs to preserve his reputation as your cool older brother and usually people don't share his interests, so when he finds you reading a classic book, he seats himself nearby, waiting for you to finish reading. Once you're done, he makes sure you enjoyed the book before fanboying about it. You immediately notice how much of a nerd he is. He also recommends similar books or ones he thinks you would enjoy as well. In the end he pulls you into so many fandoms that you stop listening when he recommends books. You've already got like 40 more to read.

Tim does not have this problem. The moment he knew you existed, he educated himself and has kept up with your interests ever since. "Just in case", or ,"Just because", he said, typing a summary of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. "I might as well", he takes notes while binging One Piece. This guy is clinically insane. Fortunately for him, he can now start conversations with you very easily, since he knows everything about your interests (and everything else about you).

Side note: If you refuse to spend time with him even after he did all that for you, the following outcomes are possible:

Either you pity him and spend time with him or Dick tries and fails to guilt trip you, only to end up forcing you to spend time with poor Tim who was awake for a whole week just to impress you (Tim frantically nods along with anything Dick says).

Damian takes great pride in having things in common with you, so as soon as he notices you being fond of something, he surrounds himself with it. You have a favourite colour? He creates a few painting with specifically that colour. You like a certain animal? He will try to adopt one. Damian would, of course, never admit it to you, but he desperately wants you to notice that you two have similar interests (As in, you have an interest and he pretends to also like it just so you maybe talk to him).

If you don't talk to him, he will become more aggressive with his attempts of having you notice him, perhaps randomly coming into your room to paint, claiming that the lighting there is better. Or he asks Bruce to adopt a certain animal during dinner. His attempts are obvious to you, but he doesn't know that.

Cassandra wouldn't really need to share interests with you. She's always close to you anyway. While she does speak to you every now and then, she is perfectly comfortable with sitting in your proximity in silence. However, if you ever asked her to, she would research anything you need her to in order to rant or ramble to her. As long as she has her eyes on you, anything is fine.

Stephanie immediately goes to Tim for help, knowing that he went insane and made a bunch of summaries and notes. First, she makes fun of him, then she apologises, because he threatened to take the notes away, she then complains about how much there is to read before finishing the essays Tim wrote, giving herself about a week. Steph then talks to you as if she didn't go through all that trouble just to have a topic to talk to you about.

Dick told Barbara all about his shenanigans. She even helped him figure out what you're interested in, even researching about it herself. She isn't as intrusive as the others, instead waiting until the moment is right, not wanting to scare you away or overwhelm you. Perhaps if you're alone, she'll come up to you and start with small talk, only really mentioning your special interest if it's involved somehow. Overall, she is the least feral of the bunch (in this situation, at least).

#yandere dick grayson #dick grayson #jason todd #yandere jason todd #tim drake #yandere tim drake #damian wayne #yandere damian wayne #bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne #dc comics #batfam #platonic yandere #x reader #platonic batfam #yandere batfam #cassandra cain #yandere cassandra cain #stephanie brown #yandere stephanie brown #barbara gordon #yandere barbara gordon

[sunshine-theseus]

Photo Roulette | Chloe Kelly x Reader

Words: 1.6k Summary: Media day has Chloe finally revealing her relationship. Warnings: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes (I know degrees like PhDs take super long but for the sake of this story please either pretend they don’t, or that she is super smart and managed to cut the time in like half.) Requested by - @charligrantismygirlfriend

After graduating from Oxford with a bachelor’s degree and PhD in Cellular and Molecular Biochemistry, I made the move to Manchester as a clinical biochemist. Falling in love with a professional footballer was not on my list of things to do when I moved, but when a new work colleague insisted I take their extra ticket to a “derby match” as they called it, I took the chance to broaden my non-existent Manchester social circle.

And somehow, I caught the eye of the blonde forward. The number 9 jersey found it’s way into my hand with a signature and phone number and by 7pm that night, I had a date set up.

We went on a few before Chloe and I made anything official. And with making it official, came a set list of rules regarding our relationship and her work, number one was that it didn’t exist to fans. Well, it did, but no one would know who the mystery girl was. It was a tough rule to follow, it meant whenever we hung out, we had to be hyperaware of our levels of affection and what we discussed. Dates had to be at home or in a very secluded corner of a high-end restaurant with a name no one knows how to pronounce, because that means no one there would care who we are.

I was, and forever will be grateful that those places weren’t an issue for us. Both with rather lucrative professions, my starting salary slowly increasing the longer I stay, and her’s naturally growing with the popularity of the game. It also meant it was easier for us to find a more private area to buy a house, 1 ½ years without a single issue of fans knocking on the door or press waiting for some big news story to break. The perfect paradise.

No one knew who the famous Chloe Kelly is dating and had no way of finding out. Until media day.

-

“Have fun! I won’t be finished at the lab until late, so maybe we’ll get takeaway for dinner?” I kiss Chloe goodbye as I pick up my keys and bag from beside the door.

“For sure! Have a good day staring at cells. At least it’s not jail cells.” I chuckle and make my way out.

My day is in fact consumed with studying pathogens within blood and other bodily fluid. It’s nearly 6pm when Filipa taps me on the shoulder, breaking my concentration and reintroducing me to my surroundings. She helps me pack everything away, we say our farewells and I head home, picking up a vegetarian pizza on the way.

“How was media day?” I ask, plopping down on the couch next to Chloe, who rests her arm around my shoulders.

“Bloody weird as usual. I did this “go through your phone” thing, but it was all good fun. I did some mini games with Yui as well. She wants us to come over for dinner again sometime.”

“Absolutely. I miss her oh my god.” I take a bite of the pizza and rest my head on her shoulder, images on the telly flashing in front of us, neither one paying attention.

“How was your day at the lab Dr Spencer Reid?”

“You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again?”

“Mhm.”

“Spencer and I are two different types of doctors.”

“Mmhm.”

“I mean we both have the honorifics but his is like, not the same. Well it is but… never mind.” I can see Chloe’s lip twitch upward as I try to explain and lightly nudge her.

“I love listening to you get defensive about your title. You deserve it more than anyone in the world.” Her lips press gently to my hairline, then to my cheek, and finally land on my own lips.

“Plus, I love calling you doctor, it’s kind of hot.” My face flushes and I smack her arm.

“Behave!”

“Sorry… doctor.” To make it brief, the night didn’t end there. It ended much, much later, with both of us panting, the cotton sheets covering her soft skin while I splash my face with water in the ensuite.

~~~~~

I don’t give the results of Chloe’s media day another thought for a very long time. Until a month later when Fillipa, in similar fashion to the day of filming said content, breaks me from my work and places her phone on the desk in front of me.

I give her a rather confused look, but she just points to the screen and presses play.

“Well, the next part of Unlocked is one of my favourite bits; Photo Roulette.” The guy who sits next to Chloe explains the rules.

“Fillipa what is this?”

“Just keep watching.” I watch as Chloe scrolls through the thousands of photos stored on her phone, until he tells her to stop.

Her finger lands on a photo, one that no one can see yet, and she lets out a hearty laugh.

“’S it a good one?” he claps his hands together and waits to see the results. There are a few moments of silence before Chloe explains the picture, showing it to the host.

“It’s a picture of my girlfriend, Y/n. I was trying to teach her football and she comes out in this goofy old kit of mine that’s like 4 sizes too big for either of us, socks rolled all the way up with a huge grin on her face.” The smile that shines on Chloe’s face as she recounts that day makes it hard for me to feel the anger boiling in the pit of my stomach. The picture shows up on screen, taking up the whole space, and now the secret is revealed to everyone who we worked so hard to hide it from.

“Is this the secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding the identity of for over 2 years? You finally decided it’s time.” He lets out a laugh after the comment, but I can see the recognition in her eyes and the smile fades from her face. She doesn’t say anything.

It takes me 32 minutes on average, to drive home. On any other day. But when I get into the car, I have to decide whether I should take significantly longer, or cut the time in half, to confront my girlfriend with my findings.

I arrive home at 5:21. With the combination of leaving work a few minutes early, and the somehow blessed lack of traffic, it’s nearly 15 minutes earlier than usual.

“You’re home early!” a cheerful shout echoes down the hall, blissfully unaware of the rage bubbling beneath my skin.

“Just thought I’d get home before the fans tracked me down and swarmed me.” I seethe through my teeth as I kick off my shoes and make my way toward our bedroom.

“What d’you mean?” it’s almost precious, the confused look and the head tilt that greets me.

“Well now that everyone knows who I am, I didn’t want to risk being seen.” I see the moment of realisation.

“Oh fuck I completely forgot! I didn’t mean to I swear. I’m so sorry it just slipped out.”

“How do you slip up like that Chlo? That was our one agreement, our one rule. Fans would not know. God I’ve seen how cruel people are to player’s partners, I’ve seen couples break up because of fans. Chloe what the fuck!” I fall forward onto the bed and scream into the pillows.

“Well you never asked how I feel about having to hide my girlfriend from everyone! I get you want privacy and security of fans not knowing but I want to be able to celebrate with you after wins, or just rest in your arms after a loss, without worrying if someone will see. I want to be able to take you to big games and pull you onto the pitch and kiss you in front of everyone and show them how much I love you. It’s not fair that I have to pretend you mean nothing!” A tear leaks from my eye, and I soon start to sob. My shoulders shake and I can feel the puddle of tears get soaked up by the pillow.

I feel the dip of the bed beside me and Chloe’s arm wraps around me while her lips press light kisses against my back.

“I’m sorry. I want to be there for you too. Show the world I love you. I’m just scared. I’ve never really been seen by people outside of academics. I’m scared to just… be seen.” I roll over and pull Chloe down to rest her head against my chest, running my hands through her hair, untangling the small knots.

“I will love you no matter what. If you decide to continue keeping it private or if you, break up with me.”

“Chloe I will not fucking break up with you. I think- I think I want people to know. I want to love you properly.” Her head tilts up and I lean down, pressing a kiss to her lips.

~~~~~

“Chloe Kelly takes a shot… AND IT GOES IN. SHE SCORES THE WINNER IN THE 92ND MINUTE!!” I yell from the friends and family section as Chloe practices shots in front of me.

She turns dramatically toward me with a glare on her face, but I poke out my tongue and she breaks out into a smile. She makes the short jog over to me and pulls me into a kiss. A rather passionate one if you want to be specific. I grab her by the shirt and pull her close, kissing her harder as people around us jokingly cheer.

“See you after the game baby.” she pecks my lips once more before running back to her teammates who clap her on the back and tease her.

“That’s my girlfriend!” I scream and point, and the same people laugh along with me.

Thank god for media day.

#woso x reader #womens soccer #woso #wsl #chloe kelly #chloe kelly x reader #woso fanfics

[misspearly1]

Ner Cyar'ika Baar'ur

Secret Santa Event by @pedrostories

My giftee: @taro-666

Pairing: Din D'jarin x F!Medic!Reader (use of Y/N).

Summary: Working for the Mandalorian as his personal medic, it has become apart of the daily routine to battle against people who threaten his safety, or yours. You're apart of the chaos that comes with the bounty hunting life, but how does one particular quarry change everything between you and Din D'jarin?

WC: 8k

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Fic is set in season one, between episode one to three. Slight changes in the storyline from the TV show. Cursing. Use of Mando'a (with translations). Friends to Lovers. Mutual Pining. Violence and Injury. Angst with a happy ending. Smut. Mentions of wet dreams. Unprotected PIV. Praise kink. Fluff.

AN: Taro! Omg, I've been so excited to share this story with you and to finally come off anon. Hey friend! 👋 I hope you enjoy the read, my love ❤️.

@supernaturalgirl20 Thank you so much for the beta, beautiful! You're a star 🥰.

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic; you’ve been through a lot and have seen nearly twice as much. Having said that, it’s almost as if you’ve grown used to the mayhem that comes with treating the sick and the wounded because of your line of work.

For instance, it doesn’t surprise you anymore when your boss requires your medical assistance considering he is actually in need of your assistance quite often, and it’s the very reason he hired you in the first place. 

The Mandalorian is your boss, or Mando as he is known to some, and his involvement in the bounty hunting business was never in your interest at first - your a healer, not a fighter - but where there is a fight, there is almost always a need for someone to be patched up afterwards. 

There’s never a dull moment working with the Mandalorian, his daily life is mayhem, more so in the last several weeks since his workload has been busier than usual and seeing that you’ve already adapted to the chaos around treating the sick and wounded, especially on war-torn planets, you quickly adopted his chaotic lifestyle as well.

There wasn’t much difference truthfully, only that you were treating one patient instead of several a day, and rather than coming to you for medical treatment, Mando offered you to move into his ship as an alternative. You didn’t oppose the idea and accepted his offer, not only because the pay is better, but the company is welcome too.

As well as this, you didn’t mind moving into Mando’s ship because he used to visit you regularly for medical attention back on Nevarro. That's where The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is situated, it’s their home base, and although you only stayed in the city for seven months, you didn’t particularly enjoy your time on the volcanic planet. It’s a world of black sand, rocky terrain, and rivers flowing with lava instead of water.  

While it was beautiful to gaze upon at night, it was also deadly as the Reptavion's used the darkness to their advantage, hunting anything it could carry before taking flight. Nevarro provided work opportunities and credits, but it wasn’t a place to call home.

However, the volcanic planet is where you met Mando for the very first time. During the months you were staying in the city, you were working in a small medical clinic, and there were plenty more suitable facilities for the man to visit, but he chose your place of work instead.

At first, you assumed it was for discretion as the clinic's unspoken rule was ‘ask no question, hear no lies’, but sometimes he would come to see you with minor injuries that could be treated by his own hands, thus leading you to believe that he was interested in more than just your help. Besides, you enjoyed the man's company when he would come to visit you. He wasn’t much of a talker back then, but as time passed, he gradually opened up.

Moving into the man's ship brought you closer to each other. You became his partner more than his employee, and you love your job because it simply doesn’t feel like a job. It feels like you're working with a trusted friend, sharing the riches and helping each other out.

Whether or not he was actually in need of your service back on Nevarro doesn’t matter. What matters is that he saw an opportunity with your skills and presented a deal to make your working life better - which it has.

Ever since you moved in with him, your life has become better in so many ways; you now have a place to call home, and you have a friend you can rely on without the niggling doubt of betrayal in the back of your mind. 

Since you were always on the move before, you adopted a cautious nature with everyone regarding every little detail in your life. You never did fully trust people, but you do with Mando. Things are different with him, and one of the many reasons why it's different with him is because you know the man underneath the beskar. 

Many people have heard of Mando. They’ve heard the stories about his reputation in the Bounty Hunters Guild, about how he is the best in the parsec, but his past and identity remain a mystery. Even to you, to some extent, but you’ve heard the stories too, heard ‘warrior’ in the whispers and it’s true. He is a fine warrior, one that fights with grace and loyalty to the cause. His cause; his culture and his religion - the way of Mandalore. 

While many call him Mando, or the Mandalorian in the Guild, you know him as Din D’jarin. You have not yet had the pleasure to see his identity, but hopefully one day you will have that pleasure and the honour. These are just some of the many reasons why you love your job, but to put it simply; it’s because of Din. 

Since there aren’t a lot of things that surprise you anymore in your line of work and partnership with the man, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing that surprises you. Take these last few days for example, it started off with the same regular chaos, but eventually became something you’re not familiar with. 

The loading bay of the Razor Crest is almost packed full of quarries, frozen solid in the carbonite blocks with one more space remaining for the Mythrol. You helped Din as far as your abilities could, and since the tracking fob for the Mythrol led him to a public house on the icy planet, Pagadon, you stayed back on the ship and waited for his return. 

And of course, it came as no shock when Din returned with the Mythrol, thankfully without any injuries, but the blue-skinned man tried to pull a fast one. However, it wasn’t fast enough as the Mandalorian was two steps ahead of the trickery. He always is.

Still, just like the normalities in the bounty hunting life, you made your way back to Nevarro and met with Greef Karga in the cantina to offload the carbonite blocks, receive your payments and gather more tracking fobs leading to more quarries.

The surprise began when the words ‘off the books’ were uttered by Greef himself and from the moment Din took his next job, you had mixed feelings. There was no chain code on the quarry, all you had was their age. Then, Din wouldn’t allow you to accompany him when meeting the client and the very fact he was protective of you in that sense, made you worry about their business. 

In the Guild, it’s common knowledge that you don’t ask questions about the criminals you hunt. You just get the job done and let the proper authorities serve justice, but something was gnawing at your gut. As the day went on and the chaos continued, the doubts slowly began to fade as you settled back into normality. 

The tracking fob led you to a desert planet, Arvala-7, where you met with a kind man named Kuiil working on a moisture farm. It was especially fun watching Din trying to mount the Blurrg and learn to ride them, but you, too, had to learn in order to join his travels to the Nikto Hideout - where the quarry was. 

By the afternoon, you and Din had mastered the art of riding the creatures and you set off to capture the quarry. Just like any other day in the bounty hunting life, there was nothing surprising or out of the ordinary. You worked together like you always do and after leaving you at a safe distance away from the hideout, Din moved forward on his own. 

As battle ensued, you watched from afar and used comms to help the man out. He fought magnificently. More often than not, his skills leave you awestruck. Mesmerized. You prepared yourself and stocked up on the medical supplies before leaving the moisture farm earlier, but remained hopeful that there wasn’t a need for them. 

When the fight was over, the enemy threats were eliminated and Din was unharmed, you made your way to him and entered the hideout together to find the quarry, but when you first laid your eyes on the target, that unsettled feeling returned to your gut. It was an infant baby, a little green baby with big ears and the cutest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

Although you remembered that you don’t ask questions in the Guild about the quarries, you couldn’t help wondering, and worrying, about what the client wants with the child. It couldn’t be anything good if Din didn’t want you present in the meeting with them on Nevarro.

You had many doubts and suspicions, so many that you couldn’t find a single rational explanation as to why a baby had a bounty on its head. Naturally, you asked Din all of the questions you had, but he didn’t have any answers.

Now, as you both make your way back to the Razor Crest with the baby through the mountainous canyons of Arvala-7, you still can’t shake off the nerves around this whole ordeal. Din is many things; a fine warrior in battle, a man of few words, emotionally shielded and well guarded, cold and merciless to those who threaten his safety, or yours, but careless? No, never.

The man isn’t careless. He cares greatly, and deeply, and he, too, knows that something is off about this job. You’ve known Din D’jarin for the last two years and you can sense when the man is nervous. He’s quiet, too quiet, and you don’t like when his mind is on overdrive because if he is worried about this job, then you should be fearful. 

“Alright. What is it?” You finally break the silence to ask, eager to make sense of his sudden edgy state of mind. Halting your walk and turning to face him, you perch both hands to your hips and tilt your head to the side in question, adding emphasis to your desire for answers. 

The baby situated in his floating pod remains close by, right between you and Din as a matter of fact, and he looks up at you both with curiosity. You fight the urge to look at him, to avoid his influence on you as a woman with maternal instincts. The little guy's presence has undoubtedly caused a heavy bout of uncertainty over your heads, a little rift between you and Mando. Not something of the bad kind, but something unfamiliar and foreign. He’s a child, just an innocent baby, so it’s a confusing and an extremely foreign feeling for you both to be transporting him like he’s just another quarry when he isn’t like any other quarry you’ve ever transported before. 

“Din, talk to me,” You shake your head now, frustration evident in your tone, “What is it? What’s got you nervous?” You ask again, although the answer is obvious. It’s because of the baby and all the questions he has for the client, but you want to hear him say it. 

To hear Din himself say that something isn’t right will validate your reasons to be worried, but you were met with silence yet again. The man wasn’t even paying attention to you, he was too focused on the little lizards scurrying across the sand. “Mando.” Stepping forward and calling him the name that everyone else uses, that usually gets his attention, you open your mouth to speak but the words didn’t even make it past your lips as he shoved you back. 

You fell down and watched as he turned swiftly, gun in hand at the ready to shoot, but a blade whacked it out of his grasp, a blade wielded by a Trandoshan. You and Din both lock onto the tracking fob on his hip, the flashing red dot and audible beep familiar, before he then shoves the floating pod away, keeping the baby out of harm's reach. There’s more than one tracking fob, therefore there’s more bounty hunters looking for the child. Bounty Hunters who are careless and don’t ask questions. 

Neither one of you can allow the baby to leave your sight or allow him to fall into the wrong hands, thus causing your legs to act before your mind can think. You quickly rise from the floor and move in to help Din wherever you can. He smites the Trandoshan and they tumble to the floor. Then, he takes the blade from him, before turning around to throw it toward you.

“Stay with the baby.” He orders firmly, and you listen to his instructions. Trusting his fighting skills better than your own, you take a few steps back and give him the space he needs to wield his weapons without hurting you. 

However, another Trandoshan jumps out of cover. “Behind you!” You yell, giving Din a heads up just in time to evade the direction of a blade coming down in his path. The fight continues, and you take a few more steps back to look up, checking the surroundings to ensure there aren’t any more hunters hiding in the shadows. But there was. “Another one, on your left.” You call out. Again just in time as another Trandoshan jumps down from a ledge. 

With one enemy on the floor, but recovering quickly, the odds weren’t in Din’s favour. It wasn’t a fair fight, even though you’re pretty sure he can handle himself, you worry for his safety nonetheless. And although you're not a fighter, you’ll be damned if you don’t try to help even out the odds against him. 

After checking that the baby was safe in his pod, you move toward the closest Trandoshan and raise your weapon. His back was turned, giving you the upper hand to land a blow without deadly consequence. Using the blunt side of the blade, you struck the back of his legs, causing him to stumble forward just at the right time for Din to throw his arms out and punch him in the face, knocking him unconscious as he fell to the floor. 

Now that the odds were evened out, you watched Din’s movements with laser-like focus and only intervened when you saw the right moment. You were sure he could handle himself, and you were right, but the element of surprise was the only advantage the Trandoshans had over him in the beginning. He fought the remaining two easily, eventually leaving all three unconscious and regretful for ever trying to take on a skilled Mandalorian. 

He turns to you, nodding appreciatively. “Good moves there, mesh’la - thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” You shake your head, “You did all the heavy lifting. I was just lending a hand.” You mumble with a sheepish grin on your lips. 

“But I know how you don’t like to fight,” He argues gently with a slight chuckle in his modulated voice. “You fought with me. Accept my gratitude, sweet girl.” 

“Ok, ok - you’re welcome, Din.” Your smile deepens with flattery as he stands before you with what you can only describe as pride. It was the way he looked at you; his helmet slightly tilted to the side, displaying the reflection of your own face, and his hands resting on his hips with a puffed out chest. 

Since you can’t see the man's facial expression, all you’re left with his body language and tone of voice to understand how he feels. And right now, you not only feel a sense of pride from him, but a flicker of attraction too. It’s in the air. The chemistry, the spark, it’s surrounding you both, and it’s something you feel quite often, but never have the courage to act on. 

You’re almost certain that the friendship between you and Din means something more, or at least, it’s heading towards something more. But the intimate moments you share with each other, brief moments like this, make you wonder why he doesn’t make a move.

You don’t even have to see the man's face to know that he’s eyeing you up and down. Upon feeling him lean in, something you’ve felt him do many times before, you muster up the courage to lean in as well.

However, the confidence escapes him at the last second and he pulls back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “We should leave now, mesh’la,” He says, breaking the silence and just like that, the moment is over. “ We need to get back on track and complete the job.”

What? You ask yourself as your mouth falls open and your eyes widen, exhibiting your shock and disbelief. After everything that has happened today, especially after a brawl against three Trandoshans, you're shocked that he is still going to hand the baby over to the client. Din picked up on your reaction instantly and straightened his back, as if preparing himself for a dispute. 

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your cheeks burning up again for an entirely different reason now. It wasn’t flattery, or attraction, it was anger. “Din, you can’t be serious. We can’t hand the baby over to the client. Especially now that we know other hunters are after him too-” You walk over to one of the Trandoshans laying on the ground and retrieve their tracking fob before presenting it to him, “-The client gave you the job, but handed out more fobs? It doesn't feel right and you know it.” 

“Cyar’ika, please don’t do this.” He sighs while running his gloved hand over the scruff of his neck, the pleadings in his voice for you to not argue about this falling on deaf ears. You are most certainly going to argue about this with him. You cross your arms and shake your head, like you had already settled the argument without even uttering another word. But, the dispute was nowhere near settled. “Need I remind you of the code in the Guild?” He asks with a bite to his tone of voice, “If you don’t like this job, I’ll finish this one on my own.” 

“On your own?” You laugh humourlessly while waving the tracking fob. “Good luck with that when the whole Guild could have these! What happens if you get hurt? What then?” Biting back with your own set of questions, you watch as the man huffs a short breath and turns away from you, evidently maddened with your bickering.  “Don’t turn away. Answer me -” You give him a second to answer, but grow impatient as you're met with a lengthy silence once again. “- What happens if you get hurt, Mando? You can’t do this alone.” 

Din turns to you now and stands close, his voice raised to a level that hurts. “I was doing just fine on my own two years ago, Y/N.” Turning away again, as if he couldn’t stand another second looking at you or spend any more time arguing, it didn’t matter anyways as you had ultimately lost the dispute. You give him another second, another chance to make things right and take back what he said, but he doesn’t turn around or mutter a single word. 

“Okay then,” You mumble, lowering your head, “Am I just the medic? Is that all I am to you?” You ask, and still, the man doesn’t turn to face you or answer your question. The silence spoke for him and that was all you needed to know before turning around to walk away. You gave him plenty of chances to fix his mistake, but only until your back was turned did he try. 

“Cyar'ika.” He calls out for you, finally coming to his senses, but it wasn’t quick enough as you didn’t respond to him. You made your way towards the baby and the sound of your muffled cries made his head hang low with shame. No matter how quiet you tried to be, your cries were audible to his ears, enhanced by the mechanics in his helmet. 

Although you were quite visibly sad, he watched you put on a fake smile and talk to the baby like nothing was wrong. The warmness of your soul shone through the misery, causing the little guy to beam and babble baby nonsense. It was a sight so beautiful to witness, so beautiful that it was distracting. 

Din can’t allow himself to get too wrapped up in the emotions that the child brings. It’s conflicting, confusing and…  foreign. He’s never felt this way before. Never felt this way before with any woman around a child, but it’s different with you and it clouds his mind, throws him off balance and disrupts his focus so much that he doesn’t pay attention to what’s most important right now. Like the danger lingering in the immediate surroundings. 

“Y/N!” The man calls to you again, his voice was laden with urgency. “Behind you! Y/N - behind you.” Sprinting toward your position while swinging the strap of his amban rifle around his chest, Din takes aim at another Trandoshan and fires, obliterating the reptilian humanoid to a thousand dust particles. 

You fall down, your knees hitting the sandy terrain below as your pained cries penetrate the sound of his beating heart deafening his ears. You took a hit from the Trandoshan, his blade had cut through your clothes and marked your skin before he was blasted into organic matter. 

“Mesh’la.” He choked. Rushing over and kneeling on the ground behind you, he reaches out to hold your arms. The injury you sustained was across your back, diagonally, at least three inches long and almost half an inch deep. A clean cut, but angry red and weeping with blood. “Easy now, sweet girl. You’re bleeding, just take it easy.” He reassures you with a slight tremble in his tone, his worry for your well-being perceivable. 

“The disinfectant,” You hissed in reply whilst shaking your head, “Get the disinfectant. It’s in my satchel, Mando.” Gently removing your satchel over your shoulder, he places the bag onto the floor and opens it up to search through your medical supplies. Supplies that are normally used for him. There’s irony in the fact you became a medic to treat others, not yourself, and the man despises that his involvement in the bounty hunting business has caused you harm. 

And although he is helping to the best of his knowledge, you’re directing him on what to do. “Open the cap and pour a generous amount over the wound.” You explain, then grab his hand on your hip to hold onto for comfort. He begins to ask if you’re sure, but couldn’t even finish his sentence as your sobbing plea cut him off. “Yes-yes! Just get it over with. Please, Din.” 

Listening to your instructions, he held his breath and prepared himself as he began dousing your back with disinfectant. You bawled with agony, your back arching away from him naturally with the instinct to stop the pain, but to his regret, he pulled you towards him and continued to pour. He clenches his jaw as you cry, his fingers almost turning blue from the force of your grip on his hand. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, to which you don’t accept and stutter in reply. “This isn’t y-your fault.” 

Releasing your hand to place his thumb and forefinger on your chin, he tilts your head to look at him before leaning in. “I’m sorry, Y/N - for this, for yelling at you, for saying that I was doing just fine two years ago and… and you’re not just a medic.”  He rests his helmet against your head and whispers, though his voice breaks with remorse. “You’re so much more than that, mesh’la. You mean so much to me.” 

“Din, I-” You open your mouth to object, but he cuts you off by holding his thumb over your lips while shushing you. “Don’t speak and conserve your energy, we’ll talk about it later. Just let me take care of you first.” He says. 

“No, Din…” You sigh, eyes blinking slowly while slurring your words. “I was going… going to say that I… I can’t keep my eyes… I don't feel good…”  Your body becomes limp as you fall into his arms. Your vision darkens quickly, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the baby's eyes looking at you as he peaks over the pod.

The next time you awoke, it was a brief moment of consciousness. The familiar sound of Din’s amban rifle could be heard as he fired off multiple rounds and your eyes glimmered open to see his legs, the bandolier of cartridges wrapped around his calf. You saw his gloved hand reaching for ammunition to load into his weapon and worried as to why he needed them. 

“It’s ok. Everything is ok,” he says upon noticing you were awake and were fighting to keep your eyes open. “We’re safe here. Go back to sleep, cyar’ika.” 

Eyes closing once again, you couldn’t keep them open no matter how hard you tried to, and his voice soon faded as you slipped into a deep slumber. The silence took over and, oddly, it felt comforting. Although it only felt like minutes had passed, you knew it must have been longer as your surroundings were different. 

There was no longer a warm breeze, but the cold presence of steel pressing into your side, and beneath you, it felt spongy and soft, thus indicating you were laying on a bed. The unmistakable sound of Kuiil’s voice could be heard in the distance as he makes the baby laugh and you open your eyes to confirm your assumptions on your whereabouts, but are met with locks of brown hair instead. 

It’s Din. He’s the cold presence of steel pressing into your side as he sat on the edge of the bed and it’s his hair that you were currently staring at with wide eyes. His back was turned, but you could still see the back of his head and instantly shut your eyes, fearing that if you spent one more second looking, you wouldn’t be able to turn away. 

“Mando,” You whisper immediately, panicking, then feel him moving around. “Mando, why don’t you have your helmet on? Stars! I could have seen your face.”

You begin to shift your position to turn away from him, but are reminded of the wound on your back. The pain struck you suddenly and harshly, causing Din’s hands to dart out to cover your eyes just in time as you opened them with instinct. He was gentle but quick. “It’s ok, mesh’la. You can’t see, it’s ok.” He reassures you through the strained whimpers slipping past your lips. 

“Where is your helmet?” You ask, getting your teeth. You close your eyes again once the surge of pain passes over and the soothing properties of bacta gel takes over. You can feel the substance on your back, feel the stuff working to heal your injury. “My eyes are closed now. It’s safe but… Shit, Din. I saw your hair.” You say apologetically. 

“It’s fine, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly, the sound making your mouth fall open with shock as you retort. “It’s not funny. I’m not allowed to see you - or your hair! What… W-what happens now?” You ask, to which he laughs again and startles you unintentionally when reaching out to cup your cheek. You weren’t expecting to feel his gloved fingers on your skin, but you quickly leaned into his touch as his gesture brought consolation. 

“Look at me,” He requests, “It's safe to look, I promise.” 

Rolling your eyes behind closed lids, you make a surprised sound when he caresses your cheek with his thumb. Again, you weren’t expecting the comforting gesture, but deeply appreciated it. And whether or not it was the bacta gel or Din easing the discomfort in your back, you chose to believe it was the latter.

A short moment passes before you finally open your eyes and find relief in the T shape of his helmet. Although you would love nothing more than to see his identity, the face of his helmet is what you know, it’s home. Your face softens as you relax into the palm of his hand, but the importance and worry around your question still lingers, thus causing you to ask again. “What happens now? I thought I wasn’t allowed to see you without the helmet, doesn’t that also mean I can’t see your hair?” 

“You didn’t see my face, nor did you remove my helmet, mesh’la,” He shakes his head, his voice soft like honey, “It’s okay and besides-” He turns his head, displaying the brown locks of his hair at the base of his neck, “-You can see my hair with the helmet on.” 

“Oh,” You whisper with intrigue, “Surprised I didn’t notice sooner, but your hair is…” Lifting your hand with a desire to touch his hair, you back out at the last second and retract your arm, but Din felt your movements and quickly assured. “Go ahead. I trust you.” 

You reach out again and caress the base of his neck, your fingertips massaging his scalp which draws out the heaviest sounding exhale you’ve ever heard from him; a sigh of relief, filled with endearment and relaxation. It was a gratifying feeling, seeing and hearing the man lean into your touch without fear of betrayal in this moment of vulnerability. Din is vulnerable at this moment, his guard is down and just the mere thought of removing his helmet sickens you. It never crosses your mind. 

“Your hair is beautiful, Din.” You murmur sweetly, a smile on your lips displaying your satisfaction and joy from something so simple. The action of touching his hair which you’d love to do again, to feel him melt in your arms like soft putty and feel a sense of home from your touch, like you feel a sense of home when looking into the T-shape of his visor. 

You gently squeeze the base of his neck, a way of reassuring him, before pulling your hand back, however, it was apparent that he wanted more as he sharply held your wrist and directed your hand back to his hair. “Please?” He asks in a whispered breath, hopeful and optimistic, desperate. “Keep playing with my hair, ner cyar’ika.” 

You laugh, a mixture of surprise and confusion obvious in your tone. The difference in his pet name for you was confusing, and his request for you to continue playing with his hair was surprising. Though, you granted his request gladly and began playing with his hair. “What does cyar’ika mean anyway?” You ask, tilting your head with interest while wondering what faces he was making under the helmet from your massaging movements. “Is there a difference when you say ner cyar’ika?”

“Yes.” He groans in reply, the sound drawing out another laugh from your lips as your smile deepens. You open your mouth to ask another question, until he turns his head to face you and leans across your body. The pause in his manoeuvre speaks of hesitancy, unsure on whether or not you were comfortable with what was about to do. 

The question you had vanishes from your mind as you nod to the man, nodding with confirmation for him to lay down and rest his head in your arms. The bed in which you lay on didn’t feel small until Mando lay on it with you. Not that you minded anyway, but it really detailed the size and stature of the man, especially the broad expanse of his chest and back. 

He raised both hands to his helmet, and before he could even ask, you closed your eyes with baited breath as he removed it to optimize the comfiest position. The position he chose however, was burying his face between your neck and shoulder. You didn't release the breath you were holding, it was snatched from your lungs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought this day would come, but doubt is what kept it at the back of your mind. You never entertained the idea of laying in bed with Mando too much as it felt like a pipe dream to have the man in your arms like this, and now that you do, it feels better than you ever could have imagined.

The pain in your back is practically non-existent now, almost as if you never even sustained an injury, and that’s because of his presence, his proximity and his comfort. It wasn’t a struggle to keep your eyes closed as you basked in the sensation of him carefully laying his weight over you like this.

Something else you’ve also thought about in the past, but tried not to think about too much, is Din laying over you for an entirely different reason. And perhaps it’s because of the level of intimacy in this position that brings those thoughts back to the surface, or maybe it was the electrifying feeling of his lips pressed against your skin. 

The man wasn’t exactly kissing you per se, but the bare contact of his lips placed against your neck like this felt like a kiss. Besides, the vest shirt that you wore left a lot of skin on your chest on display, thus providing Din, and yourself, to relish in skin-to-skin contact.

You could feel his beard, it was a light amount of hair, grazing against you with every little movement of his head. Soon, though, all of those little movements from Din became obvious that he was uncomfortable, as if he kept moving slightly to adjust his comfort.

“Want me to stop?” You ask, wondering if he has had enough of you playing with his hair, but to your delight, he shook his head as he inhaled deeply. He smiles against your skin, thus piquing your interest. “What? What is it?” You laugh bashfully. 

“You smell good, ner cyar’ika.” He replies, nestling his nose into your neck to inhale the natural scent of you. The smile on your face is yet to fade, his actions are what keeps your lips turned upwards, that was until you felt something wet dart onto your skin. It was brief, too brief, but you felt it nonetheless.

It was Din’s tongue, and your smile disappears as you bite your lip, leaving a hankering desire to feel it again. Your skin heats up beneath him as you entertain those thoughts about him lying over you like this for a different reason. You think about how you’ve yearned for his gloved fingers to touch other areas of your body, and as well as wondering about his identity, you’ve also wondered what he looks like nude. A mind is an imaginative place, and you’ve imagined him naked more than once. You sigh softly with the ache between your legs, wishing Din to be the one who eases it. 

“Mesh’la,” He mumbles, grabbing your attention, and when you hum in reply to him, he asks: “Is everything ok? Your heart is racing -” Your eyes spring open with worry, feeling like he could see your dirty thoughts, thus causing your heart to pound harder,  “- Hey, hey, relax. I can move, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, blaming himself for your panic. Although he is to blame, it’s not for the reason he thinks. 

“No, it’s just…” You falter with finding the right words, but the patience to wait for him any longer escapes you. “It’s just that I felt your tongue on my neck and if… Stars, this is going to be embarrassing if I’m wrong… and if you did it purposely, then I want to feel it again, but…” You gulp, gathering your courage to admit your feelings, “...But if it was just a mistake, then I think that we should maybe stop what we’re doing because I’m attracted to you Din.” 

“You are?” He asks, to which you reply firmly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” 

“So…” He smiles, “You like this?” He asks before placing an open mouthed kiss to your neck, his tongue darting out onto your skin again, thus eliciting you to sigh breathily. “Y-yes. Yes, I like that.” Your eyes close naturally as he plants another kiss on your skin, still with a smile on his lips, as he begins to pant. “I’m attracted to you too. Have been for a long time, ner cyar’ika.” 

“Oh, Din.” You moan. With arousal and relief, his admission makes you moan, the sound acting as a catalyst as he moves down your body, his head disappearing under the covers eagerly to hear you moan again. “Are you able to lay on your back?” You hear him ask, though his voice was muffled, you heard him clearly and nod frantically with excitement.

Shifting your position to accommodate him, you couldn’t feel the pain in your back anymore and slipped your hands beneath the covers, your fingers finding his hair with ease. “It’s ok, I’m comfortable lying like this.” You say while focusing on his every move with anticipation. You could feel his breath fanning across your lower stomach, his fingers hooked inside the waistband of your pants as he leans in to place another kiss on your skin. 

You lift your hips up with a silent request, one that he understood without a need for words, and begins pulling your pants down, along with your underwear. He leans in and presses his lips to your inner thigh, nipping a path toward your sex. You unintentionally begin gripping his hair by the handfuls, evidently desperate to feel his tongue delve into your slick folds. The man doesn’t waste time and gives in to his own desperation. 

“Din!” You whine upon feeling the tip of his tongue meet your clit. He teases you at first, moving his tongue in a circular motion with a feather-light touch, the action making your hips lift off the bed to search for more. You feel him smiling against your inner thigh, clearly satisfied with your reactions, before he closes his lips around your sensitive bud and sucks gently.

You let go of his hair to hold the back of your palm over your mouth, quieting your mewls of pleasure to a respectable level. Considering all the noises Din himself is making was driving you feral, it was a struggle to try and keep quiet. He sounded hungry, like a man starved for a taste of your sweetness right from the source, as if he had dreamed of this moment and was making the most of it now that it’s a reality.

Your hands abandoned his hair to grip handfuls of the bed sheets instead, your back arching as you tilt your head to the side and bury your face into the pillow. Your orgasm crept up on you, started off with a happy cramp in your stomach but quickly became bliss as he eased a finger inside your entrance, soothing the ache in your velvety walls. Din grunted heavily, needily, as he drank your desire.

He continued to flick his tongue against your clit while angling his finger into a come hither motion, caressing that sweet spot deep inside. The stars behind your eyes and the goosebumps rippling across your body never felt so good before, especially from the simple act of receiving oral. It’s been a while, a long while, since you’ve last felt the pleasurable touch of your own hands, let alone a man's pair of hands.

You needed this, needed to release all your pent up sexual energy, though it only made you insatiable for more. “Din,” You call to him, calling on his help to your frustrations, “Din, I need you.” 

Suddenly, his hand emerges from the quilt, “Here,” he says, handing you a blindfold. “Put this on for me, sweet girl.” He asks, to which you oblige and pull the item over your eyes hastily. “Ready - now get up here, I need to feel you.” 

Moving up your body without having to tell him twice, he travels slowly and plants kisses on your skin along the way, his smile never fading as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. “Gar’re bid mesh’la… (you’re so beautiful).” He growls wantonly, “...Bid, bid mesh’la (so, so beautiful).”

“I’m not sure what that means,” You giggle, the smile on your lips as wide as ever, “But I like the way you say it.” You reach out carefully in search of his face, to which he helps by directing your hands, and once you feel him, you gasp. “Stars! You’re so beautiful,” you whisper in awe as you trace the outline of his facial features, “Your lips… your cheekbones… nose… jawline… everything about you is beautiful, Din.” 

“Thank you, sweet girl.” He breathes, eyes closing to relish in the soft touch of your palms cupping his cheeks. “I’ll teach you Mando’a and soon you will understand everything I say, but I said you were beautiful too. So beautiful.” He explains, causing your cheeks to burn once again with flattery as you pull him closer. His lips press against yours with a bruising kiss, and you couldn’t help but moan because of the raw passion and loving desire to finally feel what you’ve yearned for. 

Although there was a hint of desperation in his bid to remove your clothes, Din was gentle with his movements, gentle and respectful. You helped remove his clothes too, and with each inch of skin revealed, you marvelled at the bare touch of him pressing against you. You’ve seen areas of the man's skin before when taking care of his injuries, but never fully seen him naked. 

Using your sense of touch to see, you feel his body and drag your fingers along his chest, feeling the brute strength that he holds. The strength of a warrior. Between your legs, you feel his member pressing against your cunt and it was an impressive size. Aching to be buried in your warm. His breath bellowing across your face, hot and heavy, laden with the same sound of relief from earlier when you played with his hair as you admire his body now. 

“Cyar’ika.” He groans. Placing his hands beside your head, you feel his body shudder with need, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly to ease the throb that burdens his cock. You slip your hands around the base of his neck, pulling him in to close the gap and kissing his lips whilst parting your legs. As he lines himself up at your entrance, your hands fall to his biceps, holding him tightly as you prepare from the breach. 

“Nngh,” you break off to moan, deeply and satisfyingly, “Fuck, Din! Keep going.” You lift your head off the pillow to kiss him again, letting him swallow all the little pretty noises you were making as he carefully buried himself to the hilt. Your walls opened up with ease, stretching to accommodate his size. “It’s ok,” You say, pleading for him to move. “I’m ok.” 

“Are you sure, mesh’la?” He asks, to which you nod in reply. “Waited so long for this,” pulling his hips back slowly, he grabs onto your thigh for leverage before burying himself into your cunt again. “Dank Farrik!” He grunts across your face, “So warm and tight. Better than I imagined, sweet girl.” 

The sound of his filthy words made you mewl, having never heard the man speak this way before, you were surprised, yet growing more aroused and confident to be honest with him. “I used to think… Shit!” You stutter as he grinds into you, drawing out a moan from your lips, “...I used to think about this. In the night, while you were sleeping in your bunk, I’d think about you making love to me.” You admit. 

“Oh fuck.” Din gasps. Picking up his pace while resting his forehead against yours, his moans broken and breathless, his cock reaches a new depth inside your cunt, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over again. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” he says, “I took myself in hand many nights thinking about you."  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You quickly warn upon feeling the peak of your climax racing toward you. “I’m close. Stars! I’m so close. Keep talking to me.” You cry, feeling yourself on the verge of tearing up from the intensity of your pleasure, but the sound of his voice keeps you tethered to the moment, preventing you from floating up to cloud nine. 

“I would dream about you often,” He groans while holding the base of your neck, his thumbs dragging across your skin reassuringly, “Wet dreams, mesh’la. I felt so ashamed, but… Fuck, they felt so good. Dreaming about you in my sleep felt so good.” 

“More… Tell me more.” You hiss. Wrapping your legs around his back and locking your ankles together, you feel his hips falter as he moans through gritted teeth. “Your pussy, nngh! I’d dream about your pussy wrapped around me, taking my load, mesh’la. Again and again until you couldn’t hold any more and it dripped out of you. Fuck! I’m gonna… Shit, Y/N, I’m coming-” He cuts himself off with a needy whine, throwing his head back with bliss as he feels you clenching around him. 

“I-Inside,” You begged him, “Please, Din. Come inside of me.” The man couldn’t stop himself even if he tried to. You felt him reach climax, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you, coating your velvety walls as they pulsed around him, as if milking him of everything he could give. “Mando. Fuuck, Mando!” You mewled directly into his ear, your eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold as his orgasm pushed you over the edge. 

White static casted over your eyes as your ears ring loudly, your heart thrums in your chest as nothing but pleasure courses through your veins. You unintentionally dig your nails into his back, clawing at his skin as he reverts to a slow grind into your cunt, the movements pleasuring your clit and prolonging the ecstasy of your high. “That’s it, sweet girl. There you go.” He praises you through it as he comes down from his orgasm, the sound of his voice overstimulating. 

Resting your head back against the pillow as you come down, breathing heavily, he plants loving kisses along your jawline and neck. “So pretty like this.” He whispers sweetly, his voice heavy with satisfaction as your hands find his face again. “Are you okay?” He asks. 

“How…” Your voice croaks, “How do you say happy in Mando’a?” 

“Briikase,” He chuckles, to which you reply with a smile. “Well, I’m briikase right now. Really briikase.” 

“Me too, cyar’ika-” He pauses to brush the hair away from your face, correcting himself. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur.” You open your mouth to ask another question, to ask what difference in his pet names mean, but he leans in to catch your lips in a fervent kiss instead. 

Din pulls back, looking to where your eyes would be behind the blindfold while caressing your cheek. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur... my darling medic. Ni’m ori briikase as pirusti bal ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, mesh’la... I’m very happy as well and I love you, beautiful.” 

You make a surprised sound when hearing some familiar words in his language and learning what they mean, that he has said them before in the past. “I love you too, Din.” You say earnestly, the tears staining the fabric of his blindfold, which you now just realized that he’s kept in his pocket in hopes to use with you one day, like today. You not only became Din D’jarin’s medic, but you became his - his darling medic. 

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic, but that doesn’t mean nothing surprises you anymore. These last few days have been adventurous and emotional, foreign and unfamiliar, life-threatening and dangerous. It’s been life-changing for you and the Mandalorian, and it’s all because of a baby. The little guys presence not only sparked your maternal instincts, but the protective fatherly instincts within Din too. 

And, although neither of you know it now, the baby is only just the beginning of your treacherous journey across the stars in search of reuniting him with his people.

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[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Amazing news on the 129th day of the war: Israel's army has rescued 2 hostages from Gaza, 70 years old Luis Har and 60 years old Fernando Merman (they're two of 5 family members who were all kidnapped together, including Clara Merman who I mentioned before. The women were released as a part of the hostage deal, roughly 2 months ago). The rescue operation was started at roughly 1 in the morning, lasted about 1 hour from the first to the last bullet fired, and took place in Rafah, the last city in Gaza under full Hamas control. That Israel managed to do it in Hamas' last stronghold makes this operation (which required a lot of forces and VERY accurate intel) even more impressive, certainly when you consider how the difference between success and tragic failure in such complex operations is SO small. The IDF spokesman said that from the moment the soldiers broke in, they physically embraced Fernando and Luis to shield the hostages with the soldiers' own body (we've heard from released hostages that the terrorists told then in case of a rescue operation, the orders are for the terrorist to kill them, them themselves. I'm gonna admit, that's when I started crying. I was so happy to hear these two men are okay, but being reminded that young men, with their whole lives ahead of them, physically put their bodies between these elderly men and the terrorists' bullets got to me. It goes against every evolutionary instinct that human beings are supposed to have, and yet... And the truth is, that's what all of our soldiers are doing, they're putting themselves between us, all Israeli citizens, and the brutal violence of the terrorists.

On the left and Luis on the right:

Hamas has made its own announcement about this operation, of course not saying a word about the freed hostages, and instead blaming Israel of committing a massacre. Hamas, which started this whole war by massacring over (at least) 1,200 people, most of which were civilians, and kidnapping over 240 human beings, is accusing Israel of committing a massacre because Hamas says dozens of people were killed (according to the soldiers who engaged in fire with them, there's no question that most of the people killed weren't "uninvolved civilians") during the rescue of the civilians kidnapped by Hamas. Make it make sense. Soap opera logic doesn't make my head hurt as much as that of antisemites.

Yesterday, there were two stabbing terrorist attacks in Jerusalem and near it. The first one happened in the Old City, ending with one person wounded and the terrorist neutralized. The other took place outside the town of Beitar Illit, no one was wounded, the terrorist was neutralized. On a personal note, there's an expert doctor who I've been going to in Jerusalem, and he called me back on a very specific date, but when I called his secretary, it turns out he's fully booked for an entire month past that day. My one option to see him around the date he mentioned, is to go see him at his Beitar Illit clinic. We're talking about a clinic that's 15 minutes from my home, yet right now I feel terrified of going there. It feels like if I go, I may pay for it dearly, and if I don't go, I may pay for it dearly. It's my own country, my ancestral homeland, a place my ancestors, who lived in the same place as I do, weren't scared to travel to. This is not a normal reality, and anyone calling this "resistance" just means they're against Jews having a normal life.

Once more, a Gazan journalist was revealed to be a Hamas terrorist. This time, it's a man who has been reporting for Al Jazeera (which has a long history of antisemitism), and has now been determined to have been a Hamas senior, developing anti-tank missiles for the terrorist organization. I just wanna point out that anti-tank missiles were fired at homes in Israeli civilian communities, including on Oct 7. Please keep in mind these countless journalist who are also linked with Hamas when you hear the lie that Israel is targeting journalists just for reporting.

A 21 years old Palestinian, convicted for terrorist acts, who had been released as a part of the hostage deal, was arrested yesterday after trying to infiltrate Israel using a stolen Israeli ID card. This is the third released convicted terrorist I've heard of to be arrested since the hostage deal in December 2023. There might have been more that I missed. This is a reminder that a terrifyingly high percentage of prematurely released terrorist end up returning to terrorist activity in one capacity or another.

On the same day that Israeli IDF troops courage and willingness to self sacrifice made me cry, we also learned that two soldiers were killed tonight, in a separate (earlier) fight to the one where the hostages were released (in a different part of Gaza). Still, while they might not have been standing physically in front of Israeli civilians, but protecting them is exactly what they did. Every operation that saves a hostage is made possible by the army's presence and progress in Gaza. If soldiers were able to free hostages in the southern part of Gaza, it's thanks to each one fighting (and dying) in the northern parts, too. So today, I'm gonna remember that, as we say goodbye to these two 21 year olds. Our hearts bleed with their families for this loss. May their memory be a blessing.

These are 32 years old Eynav Levy and her 33 years old husband Or.

On Oct 7, they arrived at the Nova music festival just minutes before Hamas' attack started. Eynav was murdered, while Or was taken hostage to Gaza. They have a 2 years old baby, Almog. He doesn't understand, and there is no way to explain to him, where his parents have disappeared to. May Eynav's memory be a blessing, and Or return, so his son will still have at least one parent.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 16.

Summary: In which we observe a few nights during the first week of the Summer at Saltburn while you set your plan into motion for putting on a show for Oliver. You don't tell Farleigh about the plan despite definitely using him in it, because you reason that he'd only object because he still loudly hates Oliver whenever he can. You... don't think too hard about all of the ethics of this. But there's also a lot you don't think about. Anyways, what Farleigh doesn't know won't hurt him.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; Farleigh/Reader(/Oliver kind of). Dom!Reader, praise kink, no AGAB specified for the reader, brief mention of oral (M receiving), implied voyeurism and also implied non-consensual voyeurism, degradation, choking, discussions about the reader's sex life and about whether or not their partners get them off.

A/N: 3193 words. not to be hit by the fic writer's curse but sorry this chapter is late i had a seizure for the first time in my life on a main road by the bus stop and was hospitalized for four days. this was going to be longer but i wrote and rewrote the "ending" and neither fit right so i said fuck it. very nsfw chapter and we get to love farleigh a bit more. LOVE YOU!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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So it was definitely working.

And after you'd explained it to Felix, he was more than on board.

Farleigh was of the opinion that Felix monopolized too much of your time whenever you were away from the Estate, so he would never complain about your sudden increased desire to be pressed against him as you lay about the property. Likewise, Venetia had absolutely no complaints about the contact. Venetia relishes the contact, and not that she'd ever say it, but she'd wrap herself around your shoulders like a mink coat for hours at a time if you'd let her.

You know Oliver's eyes are on you often in the early days, the first week at Saltburn. His gaze burns you in the days, and he finds you in the lilac study at night.

At first it's innocent enough; you'd left a copy of Saltburn: The Art of Saltburn House, The Catton Collection on his bedside, to help him familiarise himself with the history of the Estate and the antiquities therein. You sit at the desk, looking through your dossier, he curls up like a cat on one end of the off-white, leather sofa beneath the window. He looks beautiful in the moonlight.

"You're watching me," Oliver murmurs. He looks like a dream, shirtless, relaxed against the sofa, painted beautiful and blue by the clear night sky. You sigh softly, apologising faintly but insincerely as you reach past your dossier to the pack of cigarettes resting there. Its Oliver's turn to watch you once more, book closed in his lap where he waits for you to join him. You open the window, sitting on the back of the sofa, half on the windowsill.

Oliver leans forward, looking up at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his as he asks you about the dossier. You explain about the various events, big and small, that Saltburn plays host to over the Summer. You explain rather clinically about your interest in the guests, while keeping your mouth shut on any information about your own parents out of habit.

The next night, you forgo the desk entirely and simply sit on the sofa, window open, lamp on behind you. Oliver sits, and you stretch your legs out over him, invading his space without looking up, but blithely telling him that he's free to ask you to move. One of his hands holds your ankles, crossed in his lap, secure as he braces his book against your shins.

You've become acutely attuned to the way Oliver thinks he's skulking around Saltburn. As quiet as he tries to be, he'll never be able to out-fox you here. The Cattons and Farleigh? Most definitely, but you? Well, not since you spent a full year trying to convince Duncan to let you join the staff for events. Neither he nor Elspeth had agreed, but the skills you'd taught yourself made you a sometimes uncanny presence in the house even to this day.

But you appreciate that Oliver's aiming for subtlety, even if he doesn't meet his mark; it makes him easier to ignore on purpose.

There's the barest shift and creak outside of Farleigh's room the night he invites you back to drink wine and hang out. Considering the artistic inclinations of his own immediate family, Farleigh had often found a great deal of solace in you and the stories you could tell him if your grandmother, a great artist in her own right. Many nights were spent in Farleigh's room, drinking, listening to music, and painting across each other's skin before it devolved into a mess of another kind.

This third night, you hear the faint groan of the floorboards, the creak of the barest weight against the other side of the door. You tell Farleigh he's beautiful as you ride him, rocking back and forth in his lap, and you wonder if Oliver can tell the painting on your back is a dreamy field of wildflowers through the keyhole.

Gorgeous boy, so good - fuck Fars, you feel so good - you tell him as he grips you tight, paint smearing across your hips and thighs. You're the one covered in his art, but you call him breath-taking with absolute sincerity. Part of it is of course a show for Oliver, but you can't deny your genuine affection for Farleigh. His bitchy shell gave way to so few people that you considered the moments in which he'd relinquish control to you to be rather special.

Plucking control and responsibility from him while lavishing him with affection was something you delighted in. The shallow doting of fair-weather friends and short term partners was something Farleigh was used to, but you knew he was worth - and capable of - so much more than that.

While you were more than capable - and he was more than willing - for you to bark orders, push him around, make him kneel and obey your every whim, you knew all too well that you had all Summer to show off. Not that you wanted these games to drag on that long.

The bed rocks with your consistent rhythm, so you can hear the way weight shifts just outside the door, but doesn't move. A thought occurs to you, a new script, a new hook -

"Ollie thinks you treat me badly," you tease loud enough you know your voice will carry, but leaning in to press yourself to Farleigh, braced over him to keep him on his back despite the irritation in his eyes the minute they flick open. Still, you carry on before he can comment, despite how much you know he wants to, "he even asked how we got -" you moaned faintly for effect, settling yourself on him for the moment, hips pressed flush, his hands on your ass, "close," your smile widens, "considering, how awfully mean you can be to me." You pout, putting on the act thickly enough that it gets Farleigh to smile despite himself.

"You need to tell me this now?" Hands sliding up your body, Farleigh's hips begin to roll, taking over from you, fucking you softly as he takes your face in his hands. The touch is tender, more gentle than he'd ever allow if he knew he had an actual audience. Perhaps you should feel bad for using him like this, but you tell yourself that Farleigh will understand. If he ever finds out.

Still, the more you think about it, the more it... bothers you. Oliver's voice in your ear.

You need to be needed. Want to be wanted.

Farleigh stops. There's genuine concern in his face as he holds your face close. But it's his voice too, casually cruel to the entire roster of your past sexual exploits without giving you a moment to really think about it.

You rate sex by how good you can make your partner feel.

Maybe that's all you were to Farleigh, just like Venetia; a warm body you weren't related to. Be a partner in crime, someone he could bitch to about the finer irritations he suffered under the Cattons, someone he could fuck when he felt bored or unwanted. An affectionate little imp who'd accept his every apology, who'd still let him get away with feeling like he had the moral high ground. The dog forever at the foot of his metaphorical bed.

But was that not enough? How could you say he did not love you, not care about you, not look out for you? It's there in his eyes in this moment, these brief few seconds that to you have felt like a lifetime.

Pushing down the urge to ask the kinds of questions that would give real answers, but would complicate things tremendously, you let yourself lean into the messy, shameful lust that pits low in your belly, burning as you think of Oliver, though you've lost track of if he was still there, you have hope. It's his voice once more, from this morning this time, the praise he'd so casually offered. It that spurs you on.

"Tell me I'm good," shifting your focus back onto Farleigh, it comes out as almost an order. Your companion takes a moment to reassess the situation, smile lighting up his face when he's finally sure your behaviour isn't worrying.

"Of course you're good, you're you -" he laughs, but you sit back up, taller this time and out of his grip, hand braced on his chest as you level thin, cold smile at him, playing far more into the dominant role than you had been earlier.

"Exactly," and your hips begin to move again; you think you can actually feel Farleigh shiver with sudden anticipation, "tell me I'm good, Farleigh," you drag your nails down his chest, "make me believe it." The words escape him in a hiss as you clench down on him, tight and sensitive as your hips pick up the pace. Hearing the words begin to spill from him like a prayer unlocks something deep within you, a want you hadn't even realised you had. Recognition. Praise.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Farleigh," hand finding his throat, you press firmly to the sensitive pulse points in the way you know he likes, and he actually whimpers, tries to shake his head that he's not. Agonisingly slowly, you leaned in. You know he's close, he's begging and whining as much as he's affording you praise, so you dare not stop. It's a messy kiss that you plant on him, all teeth and shared, desperate breath, his lip between your teeth to the point he actually yelps and you let go.

"You ever call me a dog again," you whisper into his ear dangerous and seductive all at once as you have him where you want him, "you'd better make sure you call me a good one," and you bite gently at his ear as he swears, "now it's your turn to be good for me."

Reaching between you both, as you pull yourself off of Farleigh's desperate, all but twitching cock, your hand takes over for the half second it takes you to move down him, to let him finish in your mouth, all but singing your praises.

Farleigh's quiet and rather giggly in the afterglow, sharing a cigarette with you. The tension leaves you as his fond teasing returns. You don't hear any sign of Oliver beyond the door in these moments; you don't think you hear him leave, so he must be gone already. You wonder just how much he stuck around for; you wonder if he'll ever let on.

That night you stay with him, talking and joking about nothing and everything, and the fears you had about your place in his life matter less and less with each passing moment. Head on his shoulder, reading the last Harry Potter book with him in the early hours of the morning, you think any pet should feel lucky to be half as loved as you were by Farleigh and Venetia. Even if they had a strange way of showing it.

Ever true to form, there's absolutely no indication at breakfast that anything remotely note worthy happened the night before. These trysts had been occurring for so long at this point that as long as it was confined to the private quarters of one of the four - now five, you supposed - youth of Saltburn, everyone else pretended to feign ignorance. It was simply a truth of life at Saltburn; death, taxes, and you knowing Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh biblically since high school. So if there was to be a reaction, it would be from the exact person you were hoping would give one.

Oliver.

His gaze does linger on you over breakfast, but it's strangely unreadable. For a long while he watches your hands, but you don't call him out, or draw attention to the fact that you know; you let him stare. You let him watch as you have resolved to do.

Okay, there is one point where your hands drift into a lewd, sexual gesture while you're busy making plans with the others to head to the field for the day, and when you glance back at Oliver he's pink around the ears when he guiltily meets your gaze. The smile you flash him, so quickly that no-one else sees it, is wicked. Even if he seems to grow further embarrassed, you're pretty sure he's focusing straight down on his food to hide a smile.

"What kind of pervert do you take me for?" Felix mutters, despite the flush on his cheeks in the golden afternoon sunshine as Farleigh continues to tease him while you three and Venetia settled into the field, waiting for Oliver.

"Like you aren't even the slightest bit curious about the only other dick to get Y/N off besides you," Farleigh smirked, even as Venetia gasped with a kind of scandalised glee, and you practically screeched with fury, berating him with a flurry of smacks against his shoulder.

"Not true!" You clarified immediately, looking to Felix, who had slid his sunglasses down his nose to give you an incredulously amused look. You could feel yourself growing more flustered by the moment, but you're not exactly sure why. Surely - if it were true, which it decidedly is not - it would be just an awful reflection on your past partners, "and if it were, which it... mostly isn't," you stuck your nose in the air, giving Farleigh a final shove, "wouldn't you just be writing your own shit review with that lie?"

"How can it be mostly true?" Venetia's eyes are alight with intrigue as she fully rolls over to get closer to you and the boys, propping her chin on her hand as she dedicates her focus to you. Farleigh's actually kicking his feet and giggling, the bloody shit-stirrer.

"I told you that in fucking confidence," you snapped to Farleigh in what was more a stage whisper than anything else. Farleigh's giggling turns to cackling.

"So what I was told," Felix sits back with a smug little smile and a tone that you knew could only mean he was about to be a menace, "was that Ollie was so good that none of our friends," his grin grows wider in the face of your pouting, "Farleigh included, I'd assume, would believe you if you'd told them." Smug bastard; if he put half as much effort into studying as he did to remembering stupid shit you say about your hook ups, you wouldn't have had to go in and change nearly as many of his marks in the system.

"I get off!" You defended your past self, though it almost sounds embarrassed, but the ridiculousness of the situation sets the others off snickering, "people other than Fi, and, yeah, Ollie," you admitted awkwardly, "get me off- have gotten me off! Both of you cunts have gotten me off! You were there!" By now they're all practically cackling, and you let your embarrassment wane and let yourself get caught up in the laughter too.

As your coming down, it's a lot easier to admit without feeling self conscious.

"He got me off first is all," you lay back in the tall grass, lighting up a cigarette with an easy smile, "which, yeah, is admittedly a rare enough occurrence that it made whatever counts as mine and Farleigh's news cycle," you snorted.

"Seriously?" You hear Felix's incredulous voice and you sigh, admitting that while, yeah, that list consists of him and Oliver, it's also not that big of a deal, that you have your fun. But Felix isn't talking to you; "no, seriously," he's looking between Venetia and Farleigh like he's personally offended, "how long have you two been fucking my best mate and you haven't even had the decency to -"

"I keep track," Farleigh insists, which, yeah he actually did, "I repay back every one that I promise," his hand over his heart like this is anything close to serious. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you see Felix is still wearing a severely unimpressed look at them both, and despite the ludicrous situation, something about his indignation on your behalf melts something in your heart. It's almost like he can tell; without even looking at you he reaches out and rests a hand on your shin beside him.

"And a very worked up lesbian in Montreal told me I was a pillow princess," Venetia says in that same tone as Farleigh, as if her words were any kind of justification.

"I have follow up questions," Farleigh, however, immediately takes the bait, if only to steer the conversation away from Felix's frustration at them both, "how did you know she was a lesbian and why were you arguing?"

"The answer to both is that we weren't arguing," Venetia tells him smugly, voice laden thick with inuendo. Felix makes a face, but lets them go about their conversation without further interruption from him, despite his continued discomfort with the news he'd just learned about you.

Sitting up beside him, you mirror him, knees up to your chest, but you tuck your arm in his and bump your forehead against his cheek.

"Feels kinda gross to know about you," you hear Felix mumble, though almost immediately he clarifies, "you're not gross," he's speaking low enough that only you can hear, "everyone else is," he jerks his head towards Venetia and Farleigh before he leans back against you, "they're gross."

"Lucky I have you and Ollie then," you murmur with a chuckle, but are met with silence. Felix lets out a long sigh, and you know him well enough to know what's on his mind, "you so are curious about Ollie," you poked him in the ribs with a sly grin. Felix snorted, pressing a kiss to your forehead instead of answering. You know all too well that he's blushing by now, attempting to hide most of it from his perverse family members by keeping close to you.

Venetia and Farleigh for their part have shifted over, given you both more space as the gossiping had come to an end. As it always seemed to be, the last two to remain unreasonably close were you and Felix.

"What made him different from everyone else wasn't his dick, for the record," you murmured as you were going through the picnic basket, searching for something cold in the afternoon heat. Felix the only one close enough to have heard your quiet aside, looks at you with intrigue; how does he not get it? You give him a strange little smile, "it's... that he was Oliver." Felix frowns a little, as if trying to decipher what you're trying to tell him. Instead you shrug and unwrap and ice lolly, gaze focusing on where you can finally see Oliver on the horizon; you wave, but keep your voice low as you add to Felix.

"There's no dick that's going to cure world hunger by itself, you know?"

And no, at the time Felix doesn't exactly understand what you mean by that. Yet.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #felix catton imagine #saltburn imagine #felix catton x y/n #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x you #head heart hand fic #oliver quick x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start imagine #manic writer

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers Summary + Teaser

So my people, you loved my Jake one shot back in February, so hopefully you all will love this multi part just as much! Welcome to A Gun Amongst Daggers, my newest piece that is also Hangman X Fem!Reader. Meet Hangman and Bear, my latest in a long line of Top Gun Maverick OCs but she is just a placeholder for the reader!

So this will get spicy towards the end because I’m a sucker for slow burn (and I am apologizing in advance, I am taking it to the extreme). That being said: ALL BLANK BLOGS OR ONES WITHOUT AN AGE WILL BE BLOCKED. I AM NOT LOOKING TO GET REPORTED BECAUSE YOU READ SOMETHING YOU DIDN’T EXPECT OR SOMETHING THAT MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. SO 18+ ONLY. THIS STORY ALSO DEALS WITH SOME SERIOUS SHIT, SO THIS IS YOUR WARNING.

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

And because I’m nice, here’s a bit of part one below the cut:

It was a miserable day when Jake walked into the Hard Deck. Training had been cancelled due to shit weather and no matter how much of a workout he had had earlier, he was still as twitchy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The weather wasn’t helping either. It had been raining nearly all day, letting up for maybe 20 minutes at a time before it came pouring down again. Climate change was a serious concept, but right now it was fucking with his plans and his job and Jake very much wanted it to stop. Taking a quick glance around, he saw that there were a few patrons in the bar, mostly older men just sitting and drinking in near silence, the jukebox playing some classic rock song just loud enough to be heard. He had promised to meet Coyote here around 5 and seeing as he was early, Jake went ahead to order a drink. “Hey Penny.”

“Hangman,” Penny replied with a smile. “Your usual?”

“Nah, not drinking tonight. Too antsy. Just a water and Javy’s usual, thanks.” The blond glanced around the room as Penny went to grab his drinks and his eyes fell on a woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, silently watching each and every one in the bar with a clinical gaze. His curiosity got the better of him and Jake grabbed his order before making his way over to the corner table. “That seat taken?” He asked with his usual sly grin on his face.

The woman glanced up at him, eyes flicking over him quickly before quirking a brow. “And what if it was?” she replied coolly, a narrow gaze pinning him to the spot. She took a sip of the drink in front of her, eyes never leaving his face.

“Well I’d like to think that I’d be better company than your imaginary friend here,” Jake said, trying to regain his footing. The woman was intimidating; sharp eyes that seemed to never miss a thing and a face that he recognized as one he made when the weariness hit on occasion.

“Is that painful for you, Flyboy? The thinking?”

Jake was taken aback by her snark. Normally he’d respond, fire an insult of two back, but he kept his mouth shut for once, watching for even just a flicker of emotion on the woman’s face. But there wasn’t any. She just looked bored. So Jake did something that he would almost never do, he walked away, set his drinks down on a table near the door and waved Javy down when his friend walked in.

===

A/N: If this is something that intrigues you, and you want to be updated, please let me know in the comments, via reblogs, or just send me a message. I know how easy it is to be reading 6 series all at once and sometimes if you aren't tagged, you might not find it again.

But all together, I'm looking at a total of 22 parts. So yeah! Hope you enjoyed, please do me a solid and spread this around and have yourselves a good day!

I am tagging those who initially expressed interest waaay back in February plus those in the Controlled Chaos Squad. Giving so many thanks to @mayhemmanaged @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @cassiemitchell @dakotakazansky for proofreading and being my biggest supporters! I love you all!

Taglist:

@fandomxpreferences

@dempy

@gizmodear

@fighterpilothoe

@dakotakazansky

@startrekfangirl2233

@sarahsmi13s

@horseshoegirl

@roosters-girl

@lovinglyeternal

@lavenderbradshaw

@roosterforme

@bobby-r2d2-floyd

@bradleybeachbabe

#a gun amonst daggers #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfic #jake seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun hangman #controlled chaos squad #callsign bruiser

[beeslibrarycorner]

Can you do a harry vanderspeigle x reader smut fic But hes submissive and needy 🥺

A/N: The scream that I scrumpt when I read this ask. Please if you have any more Harry thots please send them my way I beg of you 😭😭😭

Because I’m so excited about this ask you get hcs and a blurb all in one post.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, oral

He loves you, you are his world and the reason that he doesn’t want to leave earth to go back to his home planet.

He doesn’t like leaving for work in the morning without seeing you before he leaves. He gets very excited to see you when it’s almost time to leave the clinic for the day.

The sex is great, it’s great because it is with you and there is nothing better than you in his eyes.

He starts to realize that he enjoys when you start taking control in the bedroom.

He does like taking control in some circumstances but for the most part he loves when you make him feel good.

He becomes all pathetic and needy for you when you don’t give him enough attention.

He has came in his pants from you just teasing him. When you bring it up he gets very red in the face and he likes to hide his face in your neck.

He likes when you praise him and call him a good boy. It makes the inside of his chest warm and it gets him very excited.

Your moans are music to his ears.

Over time it also becomes apparent that your pleasure is his pleasure and he really enjoys making you feel good. Ex: overstimming you through oral or use of toys.

——————-

✨Blurb Time✨

You had to get on a video call with your boss about some work stuff.

You slept over at Harry’s cabin the night before and it has been a tranquil morning so far as you sat at his table with your laptop, waiting for the video call to load. Your boss and team had greeted you as you were let in and you smiled and greeted them back.

All was going well.

Harry stumbled out of the bedroom half asleep and his eyes lit up when he saw you sitting at the table only in one of his shirts. He padded over and kneeled in front of you, careful not to be in frame of the camera.

The two of you made eye contact with eachother and then you looked back to the screen and he started a trail of kisses up your thighs. Before Harry could reach to where you both wanted him, your boss cut in on what one of your coworkers was saying to end the meeting early.

Something about getting another important call. When the video call ended you looked back down at Harry and you could see the excitement in his eyes.

He dove right in, eating you out without any problems. Tounging your folds and sucking on your clit, making a huge mess. The legs of the chair creeked below you and when you looked down you saw that Harry was thrusting his hips foward.

He started noisily slurping at your leaking quivering hole and moaned into you at the taste. When you came, you were surprised, it was unexpected and very sudden. You curled foward and grabbed onto his shirt, your fingers in a death grip as your hips jutted foward.

Harry groans into you, his body pushed against the chair as he cums in his briefs. His hands on the sides of your thighs digging into the doughy flesh there. His hips moving in sharp juts as slightly shakes from the feeling.

When everything is said and done he pulls back, slick on his lips and sweat perspiring on his skin. He moves back so that he could rest his head in the top of your thigh.

“Good boy” you said, slightly out of breath and he just hummed in response.

#harry vanderspeigle x reader #harry vanderspeigle #resident alien

[raina-at]

Weather

As those of you who follow my May ficlets surely know by now, I’ve set myself an unofficial goal to hit all of my AUs. So today I’m picking my quasi Narina AU called Lost Souls that, like, five people have read. This fic is what happens when I read Outlander, see Narnia, and read teenlock. (Tl,DR context for this ficlet: Sherlock and John are stuck in another dimension, that’s pretty much all you need to know. Also, they’re both about 18-20 in this ficlet, John is a medic, and Sherlock is working for local law enforcement)

--------

Weather, John thinks as he shakes out his umbrella, will never be a selling point of the British Isles, no matter in which dimension, no matter what they’re called. Sherlock gave him a long speech once about climate and sea levels and geology all being pretty much identical here, compared to the England they grew up in, so it stands to reason that the weather is equally rotten.

Well, since John has spent his entire life in England and then on the equivalent on Dera, he’s bloody well used to it.

Doesn’t mean he has to like it, though. 

He can handle rain and fog and everything in between. What he doesn’t like is when a day starts out beautiful and sunny and ends up in a deluge of truly epic proportions. He’s not that wet, because he was smart enough to stay at the clinic until the worst was over, but his coat will take ages to dry, and he dislikes the smell of drying wool. 

He’s just getting warm again, sitting on the sofa by the fire and enjoying a nice cuppa and the first chapter of a new novel Molly lent him when the door to their flat bangs open.

John turns around and starts laughing uncontrollably.

The thing about Sherlock is, he’s always gorgeous. But right now, soaked to the skin in his dark wool coat, hair wet and plastered to his head, dripping on the floor and wearing a pissy expression, he looks like nothing so much as a drowned cat. Specifically Toby, Molly’s black tomcat.

Sherlock glares at John, which makes the resemblance to a pissed off cat even greater. 

“I fail to see what’s so funny,” Sherlock grumps as he stalks into the sitting room, shedding his coat as he goes, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy splat.

“You look like Toby, that one time he fell into the suds bucket at the morgue,” John says between giggles. 

“I do not!” Sherlock all but hisses, which sets off John even more.

“Oh my god, now you sound like him too!”

Sherlock glares at him, then something in his eyes changes. He stalks over to John, who’s still on the sofa, and sits down straight in his lap.

“Oh my god, you’re cold!” John yelps, as the water dripping from Sherlock’s clothes start soaking through his trousers and shirt immediately.

“Warm me up, then,” Sherlock says, shaking his head so water droplets land all over John.

John laughs. “Great, now I’m getting wet because you don’t have the sense God gave small children to stay inside when it’s pouring outside.”

“Staying in just because it’s raining is boring, John,” Sherlock says, reeling John in and pressing his entire wet torso against John’s.  “You don’t want me catching cold, do you, Doctor?” Sherlock murmurs into John’s ear. Sherlock’s closeness, the whisper of breath against John’s ear, and Sherlock using his still very new title all together make John reconcile with the situation very quickly. The fact that he, the sofa, and the floor are getting soaked are of very minor importance compared to a wet, gorgeous and mischievous Sherlock Holmes in his lap.

He threads his fingers into Sherlock’s wet hair and pulls him in for a kiss. Sherlock tastes of rain and fresh air and pastries. “Mrs Hudson is baking?” John asks, pulling back a little.

“Very good,” Sherlock says, grinning at John, an obvious challenge sparking in his eyes and in the corner of his smile. “What else?”

John grins. Two can play this game, my friend, he thinks. He noses along Sherlock’s throat, smelling rain and traces of their soap and the faint trace of canal. He licks a few raindrops from Sherlock’s neck, and Sherlock gasps. “You went to see Billy.”

“Conjecture,” Sherlock murmurs, dipping his head back to give John better access to his neck.

“Fact,” John answers, sinking his teeth playfully into the taut muscle of Sherlock’s enticing throat. “You smell like the river,” he whispers, as he dips his tongue into Sherlock’s ear.

Sherlock moans, and John grins into Sherlock’s skin. It took them a good while to find their stride, physically speaking, given that neither of them had an inkling of an idea what they were doing. But by now John knows Sherlock’s body so well, he knows exactly which strings to pluck.

“What else?” Sherlock asks, his voice no longer quite steady.

John draws back, surveying Sherlock like he’s a crime scene, knowing that this sort of scrutiny will turn Sherlock on even more. He kisses Sherlock again, licking deep into his mouth, chasing taste and sensation. He licks the corner of Sherlock’s mouth, and Sherlock moans around John’s tongue, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss, but John moves back, putting a finger over Sherlock’s mouth. “Moff’s bakery. Powdered birch sugar, you were at the doughnuts again.”

Sherlock nods, pulling at John for more kisses. John happily obliges.

“One more,” Sherlock whispers against John’s lips.

John grins and draws back a little. He runs his hands under Sherlock’s sopping wet suit jacket, pushing it off Sherlock’s shoulders as he fleeces the pockets. Nothing of interest. Then he unbuttons Sherlock’s waistcoat, one button at the time. Sherlock’s shirt is sticking to his skin, almost translucent, and John can’t resist mouthing at the taut nipple outlined under the fabric, even as he deftly checks the pockets of Sherlock’s waistcoat for clues. The rain-soaked shirt and Sherlock’s warm skin beneath, Sherlock’s hands carding through his hair, holding his head to Sherlock’s chest, and the encouraging noises Sherlock is making are almost enough to drive the game from John’s mind.

But only almost. Because Sherlock’s shirt smells of beeswax and dusty shelves. “Library,” he murmurs around Sherlock’s nipple, grazing the delectable nub with his teeth.

Sherlock gasps and pulls John up for a searing kiss. John grins against Sherlock’s lips.

Game over, then, he thinks. I won. “Are you getting warmer, love?”

“Shut up,” Sherlock says, dipping them back to the sofa, trapping John under himself, pressing his entire wet, warm, enticing body against John’s.

John grins. “Make me.”

Sherlock’s eyes darken. “Not a problem.”

As Sherlock moves in to kiss the very thoughts out of John’s head, John thinks, Oh, I definitely won, before he surrenders entirely to the force of nature that is Sherlock unleashed. Thank god for rain. 

------

Tags under the cut as usual, please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #may prompts 2024 #weather #my narina au five people have read #lost souls #another au checked off the list #Sherlock and cats seems a bit of a trend this may

[oreramar]

Florist Talk: a flower shop calendar

So I talked about the average day in a flower shop. Now it's time to talk about the average year (usual disclaimer: US-centric, small town sort of knowledge is to be found here. Adjust as needed for a different setting, whether real or fictional; these notes are merely meant to provide grounding or ideas for your writing).

So, Month By Month:

January

Business is basically dead for most of this month.

It's too early for springy colors but nobody wants the red and white Xmas color combo anymore. Floral limbo.

Prep for V-day begins in earnest sometime around here.

Earliest V-day orders might start coming in middle-to-end of the month. Sometimes people think ordering super early means they can get roses for cheaper. This is not the case; they will be charged the price of the roses they're gonna get, not the roses that exist a month before.

February

VALENTINE'S DAY ALL HANDS ON DECK OH GOD SOMEONE HELP US

A longer post will be dedicated to V-day itself eventually. For now, know that there's usually a lull in business immediately after the day itself.

There may be leftover roses. Nobody will want the leftover roses. If your Florbo over-ordered these supplies, they will have a difficult time shifting them. Write a fic and have them donate roses to an elderly care facility or something.

March

Kinda dead for the most part, aside from a little bit of prep toward Palm Sunday and Easter and Prom (see April)

I always make stuff for St Patrick's day but very few people want flowers for St Patrick's day so there's not much point. Maybe this could be different in a community with more people who go all in on St Paddy's.

When there are orders, this is when people start to ask for "springy" flowers.

April

If there are Christian Churches around they might want Easter Lilies ordered in for Easter, and Palm Branches for Palm Sunday.

Sometimes people will ask for flowering mum plants too, usually in white, yellow, or lavender. The wholesalers always seem to send way more lavender mums than any others, like they're trying to get rid of them.

Prom Season - technically can stretch from mid-late March through April. Depends on how many high schools are in the area. This means lots of corsages and boutonnieres. If there's a single big school that's very local then that means one very, very busy weekend spent doing nothing but assembling these things the day before and getting them picked up and paid for the day of. Might make a focused post on these one day.

Secretary's Day / Administrative Professionals' Day - late April. Technically there's a Day for this but it also covers the entire week of that day as well. Businesses and Bosses buy small flowers or maybe candy bouquets for their various Admins. Can get a little busy.

May

Teachers Appreciation Day / Week - early in May, lots of school deliveries.

Nurses Appreciation Day/Week - the next week in May, lots of hospital/clinic deliveries.

MOTHER'S DAY OH GOD OH - oh it's not quite as bad, actually. People get their Mother's Day flowers the entire week before so it's less concentrated. Still a big one.

US has Memorial Day right at the end. This means arrangements made for placing in the local cemetery. Can be busy but isn't usually too bad.

June

Dead business. So bored.

July

Dead business. So bored.

Attempt at July 4th table arrangements. Not many tend to sell.

August

Dead business. So bored.

September

School is back in session, which means that any student, teacher, or school admin staff who has a birthday or anniversary on a weekday might get sent flowers or balloons or candy bouquets or things like that, which means Flower Shop business.

Preferred floral designs shift toward "fall" and "autumny" colors and flowers somewhere between August and September.

October

Not a lot going on specifically, but business still tends to be busier than in summer. Also, despite all efforts, Halloween does not tend to involve a lot of flower orders, which is a real shame because you can do some real fun things with orange, purple, and bright green flowers, and with hot glue strands on twigs to make cobwebs, and with black painted bowl vases to resemble cauldrons...

November

US has Thanskgiving this month and some people want fancy flower and taper candle centerpieces for their tables. A responsible florist will include tags warning people not to burn those candles unattended because while the floral arrangement isn't going to be dry by any means, it is still technically flammable, especially if the candle has burned very low and for a very long time.

December

Christmas also involves fancy flower and taper candle centerpieces for tables. Also like 80% of all floral arrangements are being done in red and/or white.

And that's more or less it. Set your writing appropriately for how busy you want the Florbo to be with their flower job - if the plot demands Florbo have a lot of free time or be very very bored, look at the summer months, or the downtime of early January or late February. If you wish for them to be overwhelmingly busy, set it the week before Valentine's or Mother's day, or pick an April weekend for a local Prom and give them like forty corsages to make on a single Friday. A more moderate or variable day to day structure might be in May, or one of the Autumn months, when there's usually plenty of everyday type stuff to do plus the wild card busy days around big funerals or the like, with random dead days peppered in there.

Happy writing!

#florist talk #a flower shop's year