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Misunderstood
Arguments aren't your strongsuit, especially with the person you love most. (Autistic reader)
Other parts of Reverie can be found here! Hope you enjoy :)
If anyone asked you, you would say your relationship was perfect. It was everything you hoped and dreamed for, and more.Â
Yet, nothing is completely perfect, no matter how much you try or long for it to be. Even the healthiest, happiest relationships had their moments. That was the reality, but that didnât stop you from panicking at the first sign of conflict.
An argument was always inevitable, especially in a fairly new relationship, which you knew of course, you just never thought it would happen in the way it did. Not only was conflict possibly the thing you hated most in the world, but it was the cause of the argument that really hurt.
Sometimes, it was hard for you to read people. Other times, you could read them so well, it weirded them out. In your books, the only people that could truly hide how they felt, were autistic people. Masking was natural instinct and when you're unknowingly forced by society and its allistic habits of finding anything other than ânormalâ weird to hide every aspect of what makes you human, you learn from othersâ body language and actions and facial expressions about how to fit in. The knock-on effect of that is you also learn how to spot the signs in other people when theyâre trying to disguise their feelings, autistic or not.Â
Thatâs why Alexia loved the fact she didnât have to say much for you to realise when she was in a depleted mood⊠most of the time.
âCariño?â Alexia sighed as she stepped into her apartment, knowing you were somewhere around.Â
Whilst you had a day off, Alexia had been going from place to place, feeling as if she had seen more of Barcelona in one day than a tourist in a week. It had been one of those days where it seemed like everyone needed something from her, and for whatever reason, she couldnât say no. She didnât realise that everything she had agreed to in the last month or two had been scheduled all in a single day, meaning she didnât get home until 8pm, a whole thirteen hours after she first left that morning.Â
The last thing she wanted to do that day, and everyday, was to upset you.
âWhere are you.â She mumbled, dumping her bag beside the shoe rack that she left her trainers beside, too exhausted to even think about the mess she was leaving behind. The mess around her apartment was another story.Â
The kitchen looked as if an explosion had occurred, tupperware and plates and cutlery all over the counters, the only saving grace for the frustration that slowly built being the trays of freshly baked goods of whatever variety neatly organised and filling her home with a sweet scent. Her lounge was thankfully less chaotic, bar the blanket left strewn on the sofa and a couple pillows haphazardly placed around, though it was empty without you.
When she stepped into her bedroom for the first time that night, there was a smile on her face.Â
You were in her room, headphones on and in your own world, humming quietly whilst you folded up then put away a mix of your clothes and Alexiaâs. Over time, since that date back in December at the walled garden with the pansies and the kiss and the admissions, the two of you hardly ever spent time apart. The only time you did was when Alexia went away for Spain camp or one of you was so busy you didnât want to disrupt the other. Otherwise, every night at least was with each other. Why wouldnât you? Spending the day with separate friends or like Alexiaâs case that day, at work, just to come home to each other was something you both adored.
That meant that some of your belongings had gradually made their way over to Alexiaâs apartment, and vice versa. To walk in on you doing something so simple like joint laundry, it caused a barrage of sentimental feelings to rise inside of her. It was like a glance into her future.Â
Though, with your headphones on and no doubt blasting your music so loud Alexia should be concerned about your hearing, she didnât want to scare you. So she simply stood in the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame with her arms crossed, a soft and adoring look on her face as she did so. A minute or two passed by until you turned to notice her, flinching a little before you smiled beamingly at her.
âHola, guapa.â You grinned, dropping your headphones and the sweater you were folding onto the bed, and bounding over to Alexia.
âHola, guapa.â Alexia repeated in a quieter voice, distinctly lacking the same excitement as your tone did. Her arms wrapped around your waist as yours linked around her shoulders, completely missing all the tension that she held there. âHow was your day?â
âIt was so good, I loved it. But all day I was thinking about you and coming home to you. Itâs quite late for a work day, are you okay?â You inquired, feeling her nod into your shoulder where she rested her forehead.Â
Any other time, that reply wouldnât have been enough for you, you would have questioned her further.Â
You donât know how or why, but you didnât recognise her subdued behaviour at that moment. It didnât exactly make sense to you, nor could you ever in your life find the words to explain why, this was just something that happened sometimes. Maybe it had something to do with you feeling so happy that you wanted to spread that and share it with others. It was a very admirable habit with nothing but the best intentions, it just⊠didnât come off that way sometimes.
Your joy was so all-consuming, it was hard to focus on anything else. The world was brighter, you felt lighter, and almost nothing could bring you down. Everything else was just background noise, youâd unknowingly honed in on the complete elation you felt that it kind of made you oblivious to the things around you. Or, more specifically, the people around you, and their true feelings.Â
You werenât aware at the time that it was happening. If you did know what was going on, youâd stop in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, nine times out of ten, thatâs not something that can be done.
âThank you for doing laundry while I was gone.â Alexia said, leaning back a little to smile tiredly down at you.
âOf course! I figured you wouldnât want me stealing more of your clothes so it was kind of a necessity.â You failed to notice the way her smile didnât reach her eyes like it always did. âI baked earlier, did you see? Ingrid gave me some recipes that I tried, they came out really good. You should try some after dinner.âÂ
âI will.â She agreed with a lazy hum, having to hide her frown when you pulled out of her arms and away from her.Â
âI left the kitchen a bit⊠messy. Sorry. Iâll clean it, I swear, but maybe itâs best if we order in tonight?â You grimaced, walking backwards out of the bedroom towards the aforementioned room as Alexia nodded at your suggestion. âGreat! You order, you know what I like, Iâll get started with cleaning.â
You turned around the corner and out of Alexiaâs sight. She sighed, again, and her hands fell to her hips as she did so. It wasnât that she was annoyed at you, she just couldnât find the words to properly express how she felt.Â
Up to this point of your relationship, she had never had a day like this, where she was so completely and thoroughly exhausted. Not just that, but also feeling like if she didnât get into bed sooner rather than later, she might just⊠cry. She wanted to cry. But she didnât exactly know why, maybe from being so tired and overwhelmed, she didnât know. The only things she did know were that she didnât want to entertain that side of her because she wanted so desperately to enjoy the evening with you. After all, she didnât have to cook or clean or do any other chores, youâd taken care of all the stresses she had worried about as she gradually felt her energy slip away from her throughout the day. Yet, she couldnât quite break down the few remaining walls of insecurity that came with any relationship, where she was afraid of showing the weaker, more vulnerable version of herself.
She didnât want to restrict your relationship with the confines of stereotypes, but she thought of herself as someone as strong and good in a crisis. She was always there when you needed her, there was just some part of her that couldnât find peace with the idea of reversing those roles. You would be mad if you found out about those thoughts of hers, Alexia knew that, though the thought of opening up about it and starting that conversation was not something she planned to do anytime soon. They were her problems and her problems only, they didnât need to be yours too.
So she took a deep breath, or four, and left her bedroom to follow after you, opening up the takeout delivery app on her phone.Â
However, when she stepped into her bedroom for the second time that night, she made one of the biggest mistakes she knew she could make.
For about twenty minutes beforehand, she couldnât get a word in with you. You followed her throughout the apartment, from the kitchen when you were done to the lounge, to the balcony, to the small space she had made into her office and back to the bedroom, rambling about anything on your mind, something Alexia normally adored. Though on this occasion, the only thing she wished for was your company and some silence. She had one of those things, but not the other. She didnât have it in her heart to put a stop to it, she knew what that would do to you and how itâd make you feel.
Instead, she indirectly hurt you anyway, in a much worse way.
You trailed after her, mindlessly, unaware of the internal struggles locked up inside the woman in front of you as she padded into her bedroom with her head down and tears burning her eyes. It wasnât until you heard a sniffle from her, still looking at her back profile, that you decided to ask if she was okay. She paused in the doorway, quickly wiping her eyes with the sleeve she bunched around her hand, before sighing and placing her hands on her hips. As she shook her head slightly, you went to talk again, now definitely concerned, but she beat you to it.
âI need a break.âÂ
There was a tremble to her quiet voice which you heard, but all you could concentrate on was the pain you felt as a result. Those four short words cut through your joy like a knife, tainted and tarnished by memory after memory of having been told the same thing before by people you adored, you trusted.Â
Maybe if you thought rationally, you would have understood the true meaning of her words. But all you could focus on was that the one phrase you hoped to never hear fall from her lips had come. There was no rational thinking to be done here. Your biggest insecurity had just had a spotlight shined on it, you at centre stage with a theatre of people laughing at the scene they had witnessed, their hysteria a cruel reminder of âI told you soâ in much the same way the devil on your shoulder so often liked to remind you of.
You thought you were making her feel better, she always liked to tell you that your happiness was her favourite thing about you. So what was different about this time? You didnât understand. The only thing you could think of was the one thing that was your worst nightmare.
You were too much for her. Something youâd been told before many times. Alexia was the last person you thought would think that about you. And thatâs why it hurt more than any other occasion before.Â
Your body reacted as if you were in shock; your hands went numb, pins and needles shooting up your arms, and a high-pitched ringing gradually made its way into your ears and drowned out every other sound around you. Alexiaâs statement might have been nothing, but not to you. What she said hit you like a bullet or ten, because this always happened. You got to know someone, trusted them, opened up to them, loved them, only for you to get too comfortable being yourself in their presence and either annoying them or scaring them to death.Â
Every time you open up your heart in such a way, you always lose a piece of yourself that may never return to make you whole again in the same way as before. Alexia took your heart and your soul this time. Itâs strange, that with just a few words, the people who make you feel most alive can also make you feel more invisible than you ever thought possible.
Perhaps this could be worked out, one day. You would never forget it though, and you werenât sure you could ever look at Alexia the same again.
In the midst of your anxious spiralling, the woman you thought the world of had made her way into the ensuite bathroom and closed the door behind her. It gave you the perfect time to do the one single thing your clouded mind could think of.
Leaving.
â
The space beside her in bed was empty when Alexia woke up. A silence had settled throughout the apartment, which was relaxing at first, before her tired haze wore off and she slowly began to come back to her senses. Apparently she had accidentally fallen asleep, fully dressed and on top of the covers, after she left the ensuite. Immediately, that silence was something that swiftly began to fill her with dread.Â
Alexia never napped. But when she did, you were always right beside her. It didnât help her anxieties that there were no signs of life coming from any other rooms of her home. Her bedroom door was open, yet there were no sounds from the TV in the lounge, no commotion from you and your grievances with cooking that never failed to make her smile, the spare bedroom was pitch black in contrast to the way it lit up with whatever video game you often chose to play.Â
One thing the pair of you had discovered was how much joy and contentment you got from merely existing in the same space. As Alexia sat on the sofa reading a book or watching something on the TV, you werenât far away, only on the other side of the couch also reading or listening to music with headphones on. If you were using the gaming console Alexia had spontaneously decided to buy you for the spare bedroom, just so you had a space to hide away in her apartment, the blonde was often lay on the bed there, iPad in hand and going through her emails or watching match tapes or chatting with her family, more than satisfied by being in the same room as you.Â
In this case, it should have been the same. You should have been there beside her as she slept, it was routine to be attached at the hip, manoeuvring through the apartment together like there was rope around your waists.Â
Except this time, you werenât.
She went from room to room, opening any and all doors even if they did lead to storage cupboards, only to realise you had left.Â
There were no messages from you on her phone and as she sent one of her own to you, it didnât even get delivered. Wherever you were, your phone was completely off, a fact that increased her concern tenfold.Â
Two places came to mind. And if you werenât at either of those, well⊠she was well and truly screwed. Her nervous system too, thatâd be so completely shot that she didnât think her heart could ever return to a healthy BPM rate.Â
It took her hardly any time at all to drive over to the first destination she thought of. Her hands shook as she drove, whether that be from the white-knuckled grip she had on the wheel or the nerves coursing through her, and they trembled even as she jogged up the steps of your apartment block to your flat, her spare key already clutched tight in her fist. Of course, she was never one to disrupt your privacy, so she waited a good five minutes at your door after knocking and talking through it before she let herself in.
Just as she feared, you werenât there. Your whole apartment was untouched, left entirely as it had been when the pair of you left the previous morning. The only difference was the fact that the light of the nightâs full moon was streaming through the gap in the curtains, the sun having set as she unknowingly slept earlier. The darkness that cascaded the place you called home wasnât too dissimilar to what Alexiaâs life was like without you. She would do anything to not have to experience it permanently. She wasnât sure she could ever live the same way she did before you; meeting you had changed everything, and life would forever feel like a shadow of the warmth she had with you.
And once she had made it up to Ingrid and Mapiâs apartment, she got a glimpse of that prospect. It was a monumental mistake to assume youâd be there.
âAlexia? What are you doing here?â Ingrid answered the door in utter confusion, her voice a small whisper as she stepped out into the corridor and closed the door slightly behind her.
âSheâs here, no? Can you tell her to come home?â Alexia asked somewhat desperately, exasperation clear in her tone.
âWhat? Who are you ta- oh. No, sheâs not here, itâs just MarĂa and I. Why?â Ingrid continued to look perplexed at the strange appearance of her captain, until she looked into the midfielderâs eyes and saw they were wide and full of regret, concern, guilt, all things that made her odd presence click in her mind. âAlexia. What did you do?â
Alexia snapped out of her frozen state as the gravity of her realisation hit her; she had made you think that she was tired of you. That you were the thing she needed a break from. As if that could ever be true.Â
It didnât matter though, what Alexia thought and what had happened earlier. The most important thing now was how she acted, how she repaired the situation.
âI messed up. She was talking and happy, and I had just got home from working all day. I was so tired, I wasnât thinking straight! I said something that was not directed at her, never at her, but I think⊠I think she thought it was. It wasnât, I prom-â
âWhat did you say?â Ingrid demanded through gritted teeth.
âI⊠I said I needed a break.â Alexia let out a shaky breath once sheâd spoken, slumping back against the wall behind her and doubling over slightly so that her hands were on her knees. Ingrid stared at her, either in rage or disappointment or what, the blonde wasnât sure, but she didnât say a thing whilst Alexia sniffled and wiped away a tear that fell without even realising she had begun crying. âOh, fuck. I messed up so bad.â
âYes, you did, because thatâs her worst nightmare! To hear someone say they need a break, especially in that scenario, is her number one insecurity. How could you s-â
âYou think I donât know that!?â Alexia stood up straight and snapped, though the fight immediately drained out of her. She slid down the wall until she was on the ground, knees to her chest with her arms atop them as she cried into her hands. Ingrid softened, just slightly, and came to sit beside her. âWhat do I do, Ingrid? Sheâs not here, not at her apartment, not at mine. Her phone isnât on. I have no idea where she is or what I would say to her.â
âIâm on her side, not yours. This is your problem and you have to figure out how to fix it.â She started with the classic friendly warning, before moving on to what she actually wanted to say. âI think this is something you will both forget by tomorrow, as long as you say exactly the right words. What those are, well⊠that's what you need to decide on. You have to figure out what you want to say to her to make her believe you because it's not going to be easy. You can't just tell her you didn't mean it, explain yourself clearly. But you have to work that out on your own. I can't help you with that.â
The blonde nodded and took a deep breath.
âI know. Madre de dios, I know.â She mumbled, running her hands through her hair and leaning her head back against the wall. âYou are angry at me, and I know that. Ingrid, you have to know I didnât mean it in that way. I never need a break from her, she is the love of my life. Itâs not an excuse but I had a really long day at work, thatâs what I said I needed a break from. I know I did not make that clear, and⊠now look what I have done.âÂ
Ingrid pursed her lips and reassuringly squeezed Alexiaâs forearm. Sometimes she got too defensive over you, like now with Alexia. Maybe that would never change, it wasnât the easiest habit to shake off. However, she was getting slightly better at letting go of the need to do and fix everything bad that happened to you. With the introduction of Alexia into your life, she had no choice but to do that. It was hard, of course it was, yet she was trying her best and that seemed to be working. Even now, as she itched to grab her car keys and drive through all of Barcelona just to find you. That wasn't up to her anymore though. Only if it was really necessary for her to step in.
Both her defensive nature and her new attitude of letting go, they came from a place of love, from having been there every time someone said almost the identical thing that Alexia had said. To most, that phrase wouldnât really bother many people. They would either know that the other person meant it in terms of work, or their life in general. Except you werenât most people. Given your reaction to the situation at hand, all the evidence was there that this wasnât a small thing to you. It quite literally felt like the end of the world, there was no other way to describe it.
All Ingrid could do was hope that her friend was wise enough to be able to get the two of you out of this misunderstanding unharmed.Â
âTell her that then. And more, obviously.â Ingrid teased lightly, pulling a small smile from Alexia. âJust speak from your heart, if you tell the truth then she will of course believe you. But I will seriously hurt you if you upset her again.â
âLo sĂš.â Alexia replied, a hint of⊠fear in her voice? Ingrid really had to suppress her smirk then.
âNow go. Go find her. You know the places she could be, just think. If you canât find her and get really worried, then call some of us and weâll come help.âÂ
And with that, Alexia left.Â
â
You didnât hear the first call of your name. Nor did you hear the second, or the third, or the fourth. It wasnât until someone sat beside you that you came back down to earth.
âLieverd, what are you doing here? Are you okay?â Esmee was the one next to you on the bench you found yourself on.
A crooked, old, wooden bench with its paint chipping off under your hands that fidgeted anxiously, in the middle of⊠the very place you first kissed the woman that had now done you wrong. You werenât sure how you got here, when you had arrived, and why this was the place you decided to flee to. Yet, here you were.
âDaniĂ«lle, can you go on my phone and text Alexia? And maybe Ingrid? Please?âÂ
The younger womanâs girlfriend nodded immediately and pulled out said phone, stepping away to give you two privacy as she did so. Esmee turned back to you and stifled a sigh. She ran through everything in her mind of what she had seen Alexia and Ingrid do to help, and from what you had told her in the past.Â
One of the first things that came to mind is that time you said on some occasions, especially when you're quite overwhelmed, you can go non-verbal. Your body and mind shuts down, internally honing in on all that was stressing you out whilst everything externally ceases to register for you. It seemed that was what was happening now.
From what she had seen so far, you were staring straight ahead, eyes locked across the yard on a bed of flowers that had sprung to life even more than when you had been there all those months ago in the winter. Esmee didn't want to cross any boundaries or make you feel worse by reaching out to comfort you through a hug or just a hand on your arm, so she didn't.Â
âI text them both, Alexia is on her way. She'll be here soon.â DaniĂ«lle said, handing the phone back to the other Dutch girl and watching from afar.Â
If Esmee needed her, she'd be more than happy to step in. However, she didn't want to intrude, and she didn't really know much about you or what to do in this situation. And if you were in an able mindset, you would tell her that you appreciated that more than you would ever be able to express.Â
âGood, thank you.â Esmee flashed a quick smile at her before focusing her attention back to you.Â
Still, you were unresponsive. Conscious of course, but totally unresponsive, your eyes glued to the scenery across from you.
The whole area was astoundingly gorgeous; all bright colours with the fullest trees, somehow drowning out the noise of the busy city around, providing a safe haven that had the complete opposite effect for you. Despite the good memories tied to it, the only thing on your mind was how you had lost everything in just one conversation. All the memories were tinged with a sickening amount of heartbreak.
Those white pansies you were looking at were beautiful, more so than back in December, which made it so much worse. They'd grown and flourished in tandem with your relationship, except now the latter was dead and buried whilst they flaunted their life in front of you. Thriving and beautiful, just like you and Alexia had once been. Now what were you? A thing of the past? What were you supposed to do now? You didn't come to Barcelona to play on a team with your ex-girlfriend, so maybe you should put in a request for a tr-
âHey, come back to me. I'm right here, it's just me, Esmee.â Slowly but surely, the gentle coaxing of Esmeeâs words pulled you out of the prison your own brain had made for you. âYou're listening to me, right? You can hear me?â
You nodded, a little cautiously and distant, but it was all she could ask for. As you did so, you averted your eyes downwards and away from your close friend because you couldnât bear looking at those stupid flowers any longer.Â
âIf I give you my phone, do you think you could write into my notes app? Tell me whatâs wrong? Thatâs all I want to know, alright?â Again, you nodded, though this time with much more conviction, and Esmee was sure she had never been so relieved in her life. With much more desperation than required, she fumbled through her phone in a rush that would have had you laughing if you werenât in the state you were in. âOkay, here. Whatever you want or need.â
She watched as your hands trembled whilst typing, and she wasnât sure what she expected to read but it definitely wasnât-
Alexia said she needed a break from me.
âWhat!?â The girl shrieked, DaniĂ«lle having to suppress her laughter at the sudden outburst. Esmee swore she saw the tiniest of smiles on your face. âWow. What an idiot she is! Look, I am not good at confrontation, or getting angry, or shouting, but⊠if you want me to do any of those things, I will for you.â
Then, you did smile. Not a bright, beaming, eye-creasing one, but a smile nonetheless. And a shake of your head too for good measure.
âNo? Thank god.â She breathed out dramatically, hearing her girlfriend laugh and no doubt rolling her eyes. âI donât think I could shout at Alexia. You should get Ingrid to do it.âÂ
No matter how much she wished to, Esmee knew this wasnât a problem she could solve. She had seen the reply from Alexia a moment ago and decided to not discuss the matter further, because it seemed the captain already had a plan of action and would arrive at any moment. Instead, she did her best to distract you, to cheer you up, with the help of DaniĂ«lle too.Â
All was going well, before the gate into the garden creaked open and the sound of heavy footsteps against gravel disrupted the calm that had settled, bringing back all the thoughts you had only just gotten rid of.Â
âThere you are! Oh, thank god, I-â Alexia cut off her own rambling when she came to her senses, slightly breathless, as she looked at you.
Eyes red from crying earlier, which Esmee had noticed but chose not to mention, and anxiety radiating from your body. Alexia could sense it almost instantly, even from a good few metres away. It was a sharp but necessary reminder of the nightâs events and her truly foolish words.Â
âAlexiaâŠâ Esmee said with a pointed look, her voice stern enough to have the blonde shrinking into herself, even despite the age difference between them both. Turns out, complete and utter anger had no problem making itself known to anyone of any age.
âCould⊠could you give us some privacy, please?â Alexia asked nervously. The two Dutch women by your side took great pleasure in glaring at her for a couple more seconds before glancing at each other and giving in.Â
âLet me know if you need anything, yeah? Anything at all.â Esmee whispered, to which you smiled and leaned into her. She took that as a sign, so wrapped her arm around your shoulders to give you a gentle hug, until she pulled away and linked arms with DaniĂ«lle. One more stare later, and the two left the garden.
For a few moments, the only sounds that could be heard was the wind, winding and weaving through the bushes and trees, leaves brushing against each other, and the noise of it helped to ease the tension for you. Silence in situations like this could be extremely uncomfortable for you, so much so that it was just another thing that could entice you to up and leave at any given moment. However, in this instance, the wind and the sounds of life coming from the streets around you was the perfect peacekeeper.Â
Well, it was for you, at least.
Alexia took a couple cautious steps towards you until she knew you werenât going to tell her to stay away, awkward and shy in her movements. Then she took a seat beside you, ensuring to leave enough space so that you didnât feel more uncomfortable than you probably already did.
âEngel, I⊠I am so sorry.â She began in an insecure, worried whisper. As she expected, you gave her no reaction, not a single hint of anything you could be feeling right now. Though, you found yourself staring at those flowers again, wondering how you could let time slip by so fast that you ended up at this point without even realising it. âI didnât mean that I needed a break from you. I would never ever say that, nor would I ever mean it. I was talking about work, it was a really long day, and I wasnât thinking stra-â
âYou werenât thinking straight? You werenât thinking straight when you told me to shut up?â You finally snapped, even out-strengthening your tendency to stay quiet in scenarios like this, all because of how betrayed you felt. The fury was quite obviously kicking in now, white hot anger that set alight every nerve in your body.Â
âNo no no, I didnât tell you to shut up! It wasnât directed towards you, but I know how you could have inferred it, and for that I am more sorry than my stupid mouth could say. I have messed up already, I never want to do that again. I love you, so much. So much, cariño, and I really am so sorry.âÂ
Her voice trailed off, quivering as it did. Against your will, you found that sudden burst of frustration began to dissipate. It gave way for a disappointing amount of sympathy. You sat there, silent, as she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands covering her face. The sniffles coming from her really didnât help your case, but you werenât one to give up so quickly.
âNext time you think Iâm too much, please tell me. Please save me the embarrassment and tell me to leave you alone. Because to hear you say that? Hurt more than anything in my life.âÂ
Honestly, your mouth was running on autopilot at this point. Your mind still felt a little hazy, but the words came pouring out regardless. You could have sworn Alexia physically flinched at your words, making you feel guilty, because the idea set in that⊠maybe, after all this was just a misunderstanding. A miscommunication.Â
Whether you were upset or angry or annoyed, Alexia didnât blame you for it. Of course such a statement, especially in a moment like that, would make you panic so much. Hell, if someone said it to her in the way she said it, she was sure her reaction wouldnât be too dissimilar to yours.Â
With some deep breaths, gaining her composure again, Alexia tentatively slid closer on the bench towards you.
âI do not think you are too much. I do not. I never will.â She said softly, willing away her emotions and, most importantly, her shame, for the sake of making a fighting argument. Fighting for you and your trust. âI promise to you that such words will never leave my lips. I will never say anything like that again, especially directed at you. I made a mistake saying that, and I swear this is not an excuse, but work was really hard. Really tiring. All I wanted then was you and only you. I got home, and I just⊠wanted to cry. I really wanted to cry. But then I saw you, how happy you were, and I knew that would make me feel better. Plus, I didnât want to⊠bring you down from your joy by crying in front of you like that.â
Hearing her say those things, it was hard. You knew instantly it wasnât a trust thing, that she didnât tell you what was going on in her mind, but instead just a rather irritating and obviously detrimental habit of hers. Despite that though, here she was, beside you and begging for your forgiveness. Now this was a circumstance you had never found yourself in before â someone saying something that offended you, only to apologise afterwards and explain themselves.Â
Yet, you werenât letting her off that easily.
âBut do you understand why I reacted like this?â You wondered. Her answer would determine the future of your relationship with her.
âYes. Yes, I do, engel, I really do. I know you worry that you will steer people away, or make them think you are weird, things like that. I assure you, you could never steer me away. Never.â She answered you desperately, hoping you were taking her words into account and truly understanding them.Â
No matter how much it annoyed you, you found yourself believing her. After all, other than this moment here, she really hadnât given you a reason to doubt her. In the short time youâd known her, she had done more for you and loved you better than most people had in the years you had known them. Those facts werenât exactly helping your case in staying mad at her.Â
âYou promise it was just a bad day at work?â You found yourself mumbling sheepishly, which Alexia took as her signal to move in. She shuffled a little closer again, and deftly took hold of your hands, squeezing them in your lap.
âIt was just a bad day at work. It had nothing to do with you, mi amor, I was glad to see you. I really didn't want to off-load my day onto you when you were so happy. I love seeing you happy, you know that, and it cheered me up seeing you like that. I was overwhelmed and stressed because it was such a long, difficult day. I think everything caught up with me. Please believe me when I say it was nothing that you did.âÂ
Her words were beginning to sink in, especially with how honest and open she was being about her version of the day. Unfortunately, things arenât that simple.
âSo let me take care of you next time, tell me youâve had a long day and you feel awful, so that I can help you and take care of you. I donât⊠why didnât you want to tell me that in the first place? Donât you trust me?âÂ
Alexia could hardly stand the vulnerability and the pain in your voice as you spoke. She held immeasurable amounts of shame towards herself at how sheâd hurt you so much. You sounded distraught by the events, and she knew what you were telling her now was just a drop in the ocean of how you actually felt. She was disappointed in herself. From the moment she met you and got to know you, she promised that she wouldnât hurt you. Maybe that wasnât a realistic thing to do, since this is life after all and nothing is promised, but she hated herself for causing this.Â
âI donât know. I wish I could tell you. But I do trust you, more than anyone in the world. You are everything to me and I am sorry for making you think otherwise. You deserve better and I will work to become that.â It was her turn for her voice to shake as she replied to your doubts, and the tight-lipped smile on her face gave away exactly what was on her mind.Â
By this point, you did feel bad for jumping to conclusions, because her reaction now so clearly told you the true meaning of her statement earlier. Pair that with her words here, you didnât have any reason not to believe her anymore.
Every bone in your body longed for her to hold you, or vice versa. So, you did. You dropped her hands, which panicked Alexia for half a second, before she froze when you turned towards her and wrapped your arms around her shoulders. It took a moment or two for her to catch up, but when she did, she instantly returned your embrace and sighed in relief when her forehead met the side of your neck.
âIâm not sure this is something I can⊠forget so easily. You say you didnât mean it but the words came out anyway, and I trust you, but⊠I worry. And I will continue to worry, and feel anxious, especially on my bad days. This isnât a quick fix. Iâm still going to be scared you did mean it that way.â You told her truthfully.Â
This was a moment that needed every ounce of honesty you had to give, even if that might be slightly terrifying, but relationships were built on trust and if you didnât offer that to each other, then what was the point in it all. Alexia could work with this though, she was more than grateful for the fact you trusted her, even still.
âI understand that, I really do.â Alexia pulled back and her hands came up to hold you by your shoulders. You chance it and look in her eyes, properly, for the first time that night. The emotions present there confirm everything you had come to realise; it was an honest mistake. âI will do everything to erase those anxieties for you. I seriously and genuinely could never think those things about you. I didnât mean for this to happen, but you will see, in everything I do from now that the way I feel about you is so real, so deep to me. Making you upset? I never intend to do that. I hope you see the true intentions of everything I do with you and for you, because I love and adore you with everything in my body. You are my life now. Thank you for trusting me. That is not something I take for granted, and I never will. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to continue loving you.â
Whereas some people in the past would have laughed at you for getting so worked up at such a âsmallâ thing, Alexia was right in front of you saying all the right things you didnât even know someone could say about you, especially in a relationship. She wasnât trivialising or mocking your feelings, she took the time to listen, to understand, and to reassure you.Â
One conversation can lead to a lot of things. The one you had just had proved that to the highest degree. No person or thing is perfect, but as long as the time and effort is there, you were certain that your relationship could make it through basically anything. Thatâs because, despite what had led you two here, you think you might have just fallen even more in love with Alexia than before.
So you gazed up at her, your hands linked loosely behind her neck, and found yourself smiling. You just had one more thing to say to her, which was so important to you for her to know. After all, relationships and communication went both ways.Â
âI donât need you to change. Youâre already exactly what I deserve and what I want.â You whispered softly, hoping she understood the depth of your words and realised you forgave her for something that wasnât her fault in the first place. It was a harmless misunderstanding.Â
âI really do love you.â Alexia stated, leaning her forehead against yours and exhaling quietly. Her hands slid off your shoulders and moved to bring you in for another tight hug. âSo much.â
âI know you do. I love you too.â At your reply, she turned her head and repetitively placed kisses upon your cheek.Â
Some people had no qualms saying you were too much for them, because thatâs what they genuinely believed. And it hurts. Others think youâre not quite enough for them, which may also be true for them. But for the people that truly mattered, you were enough, and you always would be. You just have to have a little more faith in yourself.
â
thank you to everyone that reads my stories and supports them, but especially for these ones. can never properly convey how much it means to me, thank you from the bottom of my heart <3
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#ingrid engen#esmee brugts#woso#woso community#fcb femeni#barcelona femeni#alexia putellas#barcelona femeni x reader#fcb femeni x reader
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This post has gotten big fast. Thank you to everyone who's been supportive so far!
I want to talk a little bit about why I said piracy isn't the solution to the problem I've put forth here.
Basically, like libraries, this post isn't just about the books. Yes, the information in the books that have been, are being, and will be targeted by the Trump administration and his cronies in state and local governments is vital and needs to be available to everyone. However, what I proposed in the original post (borrowing the books, not pirating them) was for two purposes: protecting access to the books for everyone, and defending the institution of the library in the USA.
In his book On Tyranny, historian Timothy Snyder lists 20 ways to resist authoritarian regimes in everyday life. His second directive (after "#1: Do not obey in advance") is "Defend institutions":
It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of "our institutions" unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about - a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union - and take its side.
Many of America's institutions are broken. Either they were from the beginning (police, the military industrial complex) or they have become so through intentional neglect or sabotage, almost entirely by the political right (social safety nets, public education, healthcare, infrastructure).
That said, if you're in America and you're reading this, you almost certainly depend on dozens of institutions just to get through the day. Do you drive on roads or use public transportation? Do you eat commercially-produced and inspected food? Do you attend or send your children to public school or publicly-funded universities? I could ask a hundred more of these insipid hypothetical questions, but you get the idea. If you live in the US, especially if you're looking at this post on the internet, you are not outside the purview of US institutions.
Lots of people will need to "take the side" of lots of institutions to keep them from getting worse - or much worse - in Trump's second term. However, I work in libraries because they are the rare US institution that I can get behind with my full support.
The public library building is the last free place. Anyone, regardless of income, citizenship, or social status, can walk into a public library and spend hours in heat or air conditioning without being expected to pay a dime. They can read books, magazines, and newspapers, in many cases in multiple languages. In my experience, many US public libraries will let you use internet on their computers and/or with WiFi without needing to have a card. Some libraries, including the system where I work, leave the free, open Wi-Fi on all night so that people who need it can use it in the parking lot after hours. Many libraries don't require a card to attend in-person educational or entertainment programs for adults, teens, or kids.
If you have proof of your identity and your residency in a library's service area, you can take books home! For free! You can probably also take DVDs and Blu-Rays home! For free! You might also be able to take home digital media, music CDs, video games, laptop computers, tablets, wireless hotspots, sewing machines, telescopes, sports equipment, neckties, or other items! For free! They have been paid for by public funds, which might include your taxes (if you have an income that requires you to pay a tax bill to the government) or not (if you don't). Either way, those items are yours to borrow and use as long as you promise to bring them back for other people to enjoy.
And as long as local, state, and federal governments don't decide they don't want you to have those things anymore.
The US public library system isn't perfect. In the past, American public libraries have actively participated in segregation, and I wish the field acknowledged this lasting harm more. I wish more systems could go fine-free. I wish the field paid better (no one should have to have a Master's degree to make a living wage). I think there are too many restrictions on who can get a library card in a particular system. Some library systems' policies are actively hostile to people experiencing homelessness, addiction, or poverty. That said, these things are improving and they are solvable - unless we can't prove that people are using our services enough to justify our expenses to political entities.
It is so, so easy to take public libraries' side in the US. Literally just use us.
It's not just about the books.
I'm already seeing advice from people in the US to purchase queer books and other banned or "controversial" books on paper as a way to combat the wave of government censorship that is coming. While this is a good idea (it is! absolutely!), it's not accessible to everyone, and truly, we're not going to be able to consumerism our way out of this one.
If you can buy the books, do. Whether you can buy the books or not, borrow them from your library.
Borrow the paper versions. Borrow the ebook or audiobook versions. Request the titles you want that your library doesn't have. The more a title circulates or is requested, the better librarians are going to be able to defend keeping it if and when it's ever challenged.
Use libraries like @queerliblib too. The more members they have, the better they'll be able to fundraise.
Your community resources depend on you using them. Borrow the books before they go away.
InB4: Piracy is not the solution here. We're trying to keep community resources available, not make sure individual people can read individual books. Different problems.
The books are still available. Borrowing them from your library and returning them on time and in good condition will help keep them that way.
#booklr#bookblr#librarians of tumblr#books & libraries#librarians#public libraries#usamerican#self reblog with commentary
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â
02. MORNING ROUTINE !
â after filming your first scene and talking it over with your agent, youâre off to your second . . in a maid costume!? once filming is over, youâre roped into an interesting conversation regarding a few other stars.
warnings. 18+ content â mdni, fem! reader, everyone is over 21, oral (f receiving), cum eating, maids, awkwardness, creampie, unprotected sex. | 4.9K words
xoxo, juno. SHES BACKKKKK! comment & rb if you enjoyed! thank u to wolfy anon for proofreading ily âĄ
SHOWTIME MLIST.
âhey, good morning,â shinsou rushes up to you at the doors, lightly grabbing onto your shoulder before you can walk into the studio. âhowâd yesterdayâs shoot go for you?â
âgood morning!â you reply happily, lighting up as you turn to face your agent. âletâs get some coffee from the place across the street, and i can tell you while we walk?â
âsounds good,â he exhales, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. âitâs definitely getting colder, god. i could seriously use some coffee.â
âah, it is. anyway, filming wasnât too bad. i had director iida, i believe? yeah, he was pretty alright.â you and shinsou walk side by side, stopping to hit the button and waiting for the lights to change.
shinsou gives a small smile, crossing the street with you. âhowâd it go with your co-star? i figured heâd be a good introduction for you.â
âshĆto was nice,â you say, warmth rising to your cheeks. the memory of being pressed against him and fucking is a little blurry, but just thinking about it has your pussy clenching around nothing. the faint feeling of his touch ghosts across your skin, and you clear your throat awkwardly. âum . . i think we ended up doing well together.â
shinsouâs not surprised. after all, he pulled the strings behind the scenes to get you with him.
âthatâs good! iâve been meaning to ask you about what youâre interested to do today,â shinsou holds the door of the coffee shop open for you and follows you inside. âiâll get you up to speed after we order, alright? and donât worry, iâll just cover your drink.â
âoh,â youâre in the middle of unzipping your purse, âyou really donât have to, shinsou! iâve got it.â
âi insist, itâs my treat.â he leaves no room for you to fight him any further, and you place the order together once itâs your turn.
âwhat were you saying about filming today?â you draw his attention back to the aforementioned topic as you sit down at a table together to wait for your drinks.
âoh, thatâs right. youâve been booked by a lot of different people, so youâve gotta choose who you want to film with today. personally, i think youâve got some decent options.â
âis that so?â you exhale, wondering if anyone else could possibly top your experience with shĆto. but of course, youâre employed at a pornography studio, where dreams become reality and anything is possible.
shinsouâs voice drops to a low whisper, his words meant for your ears only. âwell, thereâs this . . maid thing, or some kind of bdsm shoot.â
âthose are not good options,â you groan, closing your eyes briefly in disgust. âwhoâre the people booking? anyone important?â
âobviously, the maid film is from denki kaminari. the bdsm isââ
youâve seen denki kaminariâs videos before. he seems to be energetic and also a little pervy, but heâs good looking and youâre not in the mood to be tied up in ropes or chains.
âiâll go with the maid film. is he offering a lot?â
âkaminariâs a bit . . eccentric,â shinsou offers, waving his hand dismissively. âhe doesnât usually book with a set amount in mind like everyone else does. he prefers to shoot the film and then pay based off of what it makes.â
so, there are a few financial risks when it comes to choosing denki kaminari, but you sigh and bite the bullet. âthatâs not ideal, but iâll take it. whenâs it scheduled?â
shinsou looks over at a mounted clock behind you, âif youâre going for this, youâre supposed to be over there in an hour.â
the barista calls out shinsouâs name, and you pick up the coffees while he sends a confirmation email to kaminariâs agent.
your arrival to shinsouâs office is met with an assistant of some kind dropping off a garment bag. through the fabric, you can see big frills and bows that most definitely will be itchy when youâre going around in it.
shinsou takes the bag with a sigh, and the assistant presses a yellow sticky note to the side of it before scurrying off quickly. you pick up the yellow paper and read the messy writing scrawled onto it.
hey! please change into this before arriving to set, directorâs orders. we hope the dress is comfortable, even though it doesnât look like it.
âi assume this is from kaminari?â you say flatly, tugging the sticky note off the bag.
âof course it is,â shinsou replies, holding the door open for you, âyou can change in here before you head over. by the way, youâre heading to the fourth floor and turning to the left.â
âthanks, shinsou.â
unzipping the garment bag yields a frilly black and white dress decked out with bows and all kinds of lace. tucked in neatly beside the dress is a folded set of thigh high socks and a prop duster that looks as though itâs never been used. you pull off your clothes and change into the provided ones with little excitement. at the very least, youâll get paid well and then end up filming something better, hopefully again with shĆto.
shinsou nearly drops his phone when you step out of his office in that ridiculous dressâit looks so good on you, accentuating your chest and complimenting your figure beautifully. you fiddle with the bow necktie, fingers tangling in the black fabric. his mouth goes dry when you look up at him shyly, gesturing toward the necktie as best you can.
âcould you help me tie this, shinsou?â
âof course,â he nods politely, snapping out of his daze. his nimble fingers undo the knots youâve created and he ties it easily for you, pulling it into a snug bow. âyou look great, by the way.â immediately after the words leave his mouth, he regrets having added that bit, but you smile at him and give him a spin, letting your skirt fan out.
âthanks. wish me luck?â
âgood luck,â shinsou laughs dryly, turning away quickly before you can notice the redness blooming on his cheeks. âremember, fourth floor and to the left. thereâll be a sign or something on the door.â
you wave, thanking him again, and you both go your separate ways. the elevator comes quickly, and you go upwards silently, until the elevator stops a floor too early.
âthereâs my pretty co-star!â an energetic voice exclaims, and the owner of it steps onto the elevator, practically buzzing with excitement. âcome on, we can head up together!â
you recognize him easily; denki kaminariâs signature blond hair has a streak of black through it, and heâs got a winning smile playing on his lips, showcasing his nice teeth.
âitâs nice to meet you,â you say, offering a hand in his direction. his energy isnât off putting, just a little . . much for the first film of the day. kaminari instead wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a warm hug as though youâre a long lost friend of his.
the elevatorâs chugging upwards slowly, and kaminariâs still wrapped around you. well, okay. this is slightly weird; youâre going to be all over each other in less than twenty minutes and heâs already this friendly? something about him already has you on edge, necktie suddenly feeling like a noose.
you cough, pulling away and practically skittering into the corner of the elevator. he looks at you weirdly, confusion written all over his face, but you straighten and smooth out the ruffles on your dress.
âiâm sorry, itâsâwe just met,â you utter, at a loss for words. maybe this is just how he is, but now youâre starting to worry if youâve jeopardized your dynamic on set with him.
kaminariâs features soften with embarrassment, cheeks growing pink. then he very obviously panics internally, voice frantic and high as he tries to explain himself.
âoh my god! youâre right, iâm so sorry!â he stumbles over his words, and you wonder if the elevator is stuck with how long itâs taking. âiâm sorry, i really . . iâve wanted to meet you for the longest time, and now you must think iâm a dumbassâah, sorry!â
at last, the elevator finally comes to a halt. its doors open and you dash out, kaminari following with his head hanging. before you can open the door, he stops you with a sigh.
âwait, iâi want to redo our first meeting.â
you turn, gracing him with your attention and patience. âand how exactly do you plan to redo it?â
âwith a proper introduction and handshake. no hugs, i promise.â he seems genuine, and your shoulders start to relax. kaminari extends his hand, a truce, and envelops yours once you reach out too.
âwell, you already know me. just call me denki, though, okay? no kaminari or anything.â
âunderstood, denki.â
the door is thrown open and director yaoyorozu pops her head out, looking left and right.
âthere you two are! goodness, i was about to send out a search party.â
âitâs nice to meet you,â you say, shaking her hand and stepping inside behind her. âin the email, you didnât have any kind of script . . is this some kind of freestyle thing?â
âi am so glad you asked,â she sighs, pulling the sharpened pencil from behind her ear. âiâve got a simple idea to go off of, but the rest of it is up to you.â
âup to us?â denki chokes out, sounding shocked.
âum, yes?â the director sniffs, confused. âremember, you came to me with all of this.â
âdirector yaomomo, i thought youâd come up with a script!â he whines lamely, and she only rolls her eyes.
âkaminari, please. next time youâre booking a set, director, and supplies last minute, make sure youâve got something for them to work with besides a generic concept.â
âdirector, the pancakes are finished and the set is ready.â a member of the film crew flashes her a double thumbs up and a smile.
âgreat, thanks so much,â yaoyorozu gushes before turning back toward you and denki. âso, the theme here is maids, of course. in this film, sheâll be waiting on you and waking you up with breakfast while youâre fake sleeping. obviously, youâre aware of what takes place next.â
âso, minimal dialogue?â you ask, folding your arms as you listen closely.
âthe scene may have as much dialogue as you want it to. iâll let you two head off and prep before we get started, okay?â
director yaoyorozuâs dark ponytail swings behind her as she saunters off toward the set to make a few more adjustments. denki waves at you, then heads off toward the changing area while you sigh.
â
âis everyone entirely ready and in position?â
a few stage crew members adjust the lighting and some microphones before giving yaoyorozu confirmation through raised thumbs. she nods toward you, just as someone places a hefty tray into your hands. the silver platter carries a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice beside it. matching silverware sits neatly beside the plate, atop a folded napkin.
yaoyorozu crosses her legs in her directorâs chair, while you try not to shake with the heavy breakfast platter in your hands. orange juice lurches from side to side in the glass, threatening to spill over if you donât remain steady.
âaction!â
you smile when you step through the doorway, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to mask the nervousness. denkiâs shirtless and on his stomach in the bed, a mess of sheets and blankets covering his lower half. trembling, you finally set the breakfast platter down on the bedside table, taking a seat on the bed.
denkiâs getting hard just from feeling the shift of your weight on the mattress. the director might have to end filming early with the way his breath hitches at the touch of your palm to his back. slowly, you rub his skin in small circles, encouraging him to wake up. is it possible to be aroused from an almost entirely innocent gesture coming from someone you donât know?
he stirs with a groan, turning over with a yawn. denki looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lower half still tangled in the bedsheets.
âgood morning, sleepyhead,â you sigh, a lot less nervous now that youâre no longer holding onto that damn tray. âi made you breakfast and cleaned around the house. gently dusted your figure collection too.â
ât-thank you,â denki smiles, sitting up. âuh, whatâs for breakfast?â
âblueberry pancakes and OJ,â you say automatically, cutting a piece off the sticky pastries with the fork. âi think youâll love it.â
thereâs something too intimate about the way you feed him the piece of the pancake, your eyes on his as he swallows it.
âwell?â you breathe expectantly, lifting his chin and tilting it toward you when he shyly averts his eyes. the simple gesture startles him, sends his heart into quite the flurry, and denki finds himself fighting to get a grip. really, heâs never been this awkward on set in all his years as a pornstarâin fact, a film like this would be the easiest for him . . so whyâs it so difficult?
a few sparks fly between you when denki grabs your chin in return, tugging you into a kiss. you gasp, startled, and he licks into your mouth, letting you taste the sweetness of the pancakes for yourself. seriously, whoever made them deserves head; theyâre sweet and fruity, but maybe they just taste better on denkiâs tongue.
he moans deeply against your lips, and you swallow the low sound with one of your own. beneath all the frills and lacy ruffles, sticky arousal begins to pool in your panties, soaking through the fabric far too easily. meanwhile, denkiâs trepidation melts away fully; he grows more absorbed in the kiss, until he regretfully pulls away for breath.
you look at him through your lashes, nodding blissfully when he looks toward your skirt. denki slowly slips a hand beneath all the fabric and groans loudly, his fingers swiping at your damp panties before moving past the fabric to stroke your slick folds.
before you can move into another kiss, the director lets out a peeved sigh and shakes her head, âcut!â
denki pushes a finger inside of you, savoring the gasp you let out like a piece of specialty candy. âlisten to yaomomo for both of us, âkay?â
âb-but theyâre not rolling,â you protest in a whisper shout, although your hips jerk toward him when he sinks in all the way to his knuckle.
âno rules against it, baby.â the once anxious denki you met thirty minutes ago is gone, replaced with the confident pornstar youâve come to know through years of watching UAâs videos.
yaoyorozu claps her hands together, facing you and denki but not noticing anything going on beneath the umbrella-like cover of your skirt.
âyouâre both doing well so far, but when i said the amount of dialogue was up to you, i didnât mean no talking at all.â
âdo we have to reshoot what weâve done so far?â you gasp out when denki curls his finger right against your g-spot, sending shockwaves of heat throughout your entire body.
nobody seems to notice the inflection in your voice, and the director offers a small smile.
âno, itâs alright, weâll just edit everything together before it goes out. youâre both doing great, by the way!â her praise is reassuring, and she hops up onto her chair again, then gestures for the crew members to position the cameras.
âaction.â
denkiâs lips find yours in a bruising kiss, tongue swiping against your lower lip impatiently. heâs quick to pull you on top of him too, wet fingers tugging up your skirt to give the camera a full view of your soaked panties and ass.
âwhat about the pancakes?â you ask, remembering the directorâs tip about the dialogue. if she were to call cut again, the interruption would surely drive you insane.
âwhat pancakes?â
âthe ones i made for you,â you breathe against his lips, eyes flicking to the bedside table. âover there, with theââ
he takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. low and quiet, he whispers into your ear, âfuck, youâve got no idea how long iâve been waiting for thisâfor you.â
you whine as he kicks the bedsheets off his body, firmly placing you atop his hard cock. through your panties and his boxers, you can feel the ridges of his tip and the heat of his body.
âhow do you want it?â denki purrs, hands settled on your hips. âfrom the back . . bent over?â
the options he gives you only ignite the arousal burning in your core further; you move off of him, settling on all fours. the wild look you toss him from over your shoulder makes him groan, and he yanks his underwear and pajama pants off as quickly as he can, hurling them into a corner of the set.
âfuckinâ soaked, baby,â he coos, flipping up your skirt and slipping a few fingers beneath the crotch of your panties. your cunt flutters around nothing as he pulls the underwear off, with enough force for the microphones to pick up the ripping sound that follows. âis this all for me?â
he flings the torn garment off the bed carelessly, and it silently lands somewhere on the carpet.
âo-only for you.â
denki chuckles, and guides his cock toward your entrance, but doesnât push it in just yet. instead, he strokes the tip up and down, gathering your wetness to provide extra lubrication. the tease has your toes curling and your eyes rolling back; denki gifts your ass with a slap, letting out a low whistle.
âyouâll get what you want soon enough, baby. i just . . feel like somethingâs missing.â
you look over your shoulder when the bed creaks, your co starâs weight leaving the mattress. he grabs at the drawer of the bedside table, and the glass of orange juice rattles against the silver platter from the movement. even director yaoyorozu looks a little lost for words, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
the drawer slams shut and denki returns to the bed behind you in a flash, a miniature black and white vibrator between his fingers. yaoyorozu settles back into her chair with a contented expression, signaling for the cameraman to zoom in between your bodies.
the soft, rubbery head of the vibrator nudges against your clit and you gasp. denki slants his body over yours, pushing his cock inside of you shallowly.
âiâi donât think i can t-take all of it,â you swallow nervously, inhaling sharply when he bucks his hips forward and plunges inside you, bottoming out easily.
âthatâs fuckinâ nonsense,â he groans, pushing a hand through his blond hair to get it away from his eyes. then it wraps loosely around your throat before you can protest any further. ââcourse my girl can take it.â
my girl?
denki startles even himself. but this is the magic of being a pornstar and filming around the clock. heâs built up a persona for himself that he always seems to slip into no matter how heâs feeling. heâs thankful for this; otherwise, heâd be a bumbling fool whoâd accidentally fuck your thighs, too caught up with excitement to get it together.
his teeth sink into his lower lip hard, scraping against the skin rather roughly as the words burst from his lips uncontrollably.
âg-god, youâve got no idea how damn long iâve been waiting to fuck this pretty pussy,â the vibrator turns on and presses flush against your clit, already at the highest setting. ângh, youâre so tight, babyâgot me all worked up with the little maid dress, heh. you look beautiful in it, i swear.â
his babbling soon falls on deaf ears, and you unintentionally tune him out, unable to hear him clearly over your ragged moans and cries. denkiâs hips set a somewhat even pace, skin smacking into skin while the vibrator seems to only get more intense.
âcâmon, babe, arch a lil more for me,â he huffs, his palm nudging against the middle of your back.
with a whine, you do as he instructs, burying your face in the sheets.
âaw, i still wanna hear you clearly.â denki clicks his tongue, his fingers leaving the sides of your throat and instead tugging on your necktie. he turns it backwards and pulls your head back so youâre not muffled any longer.
âf-fuck, youâre so deep,â you sob, his strokes growing faster and rougher. the bed creaks beneath you, shaking loudly, and despite his panting, denkiâs determined to give you the best sex youâll ever have at UA studios.
âyeah, babe? feel my cock right here in your tummy?â denkiâs voice is strained, his free hand wandering to the plush skin above your pelvis. he presses down experimentally, and he swears you get tighter.
itâs only a little pressure, but it sends shockwaves of something intense throughout your body and knocks the breath from your lungs.
âooh, youâre squeezinâ me real tight,â denki comments breathily, âi want you to cum for me, got that?â
ââm so close,â you sob, tossing your ass back onto his cock. âwannaâwanna cum on your cock!â
this is it. this is the big moment where he makes you cum twice on camera and shows all his friends who can fuck you the best. his mouth feels dry and heâs unable to say much of anything to spur you on, talk you through it.
the noisy metal bedframe squeaks louder, the mattress sliding side to side from all the movement. denki doesnât let up, biting down on his lip so hard he draws some blood while he fucks you through the exhaustion and pain in his sides.
at last, highly anticipated euphoria courses through your bodies at the same time, and his cock begins to twitch against your cervix. a whiny moan tears from his lips as he spills deep inside you, trembling hands grabbing at your waist for purchase. the vibrator maintains its high setting, not letting up even onceâin the moment, itâs amazing to ride the waves as you cum, but as youâre coming down, you begin to shudder away from it.
âhahâah, shit,â you cry, voice pitching. denki pulls out of you, eyes widening in delight as he looks over your sloppy cunt, drooling with a mixture of your cum and his own. glossy strings of white leak from your hole, sticking to your thighs every time you jerk away from the vibrator. âi-itâs too much.â
âoh, âm sorry babe,â the words roll off his tongue, each syllable oozing with faux sympathy. lucky for you, denki clicks the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere in the sheets. you donât notice him moving to lay on his stomach, too busy trying to catch your breath. âsheâs looking messy down there, hm?â
denkiâs breath now fans over your wet pussy, his words low and sultry. you look over your shoulder in confusion, sweat shining on your forehead, bitten lips parting to ask a question, but he interrupts.
âi can clean her up for you.â
with that final statement, denkiâs tongue presses flat against your slit and he moans, tasting the evidence of what seems to be his best porno yet. he slurps up the mess eagerly, holding you in place by your hips whenever you try to squirm away.
itâs bittersweet, slick pouring down his chin and making his skin shine while his own cum colors his lips white. you canât do anything but whimper, looking back at him through hooded eyes that well with tears of overstimulation.
âi know, i know,â he mumbles into you when your body jolts, and you suck in a sharp breath. âi jusâ want to make sure you canât move after this.â
a thorough pussy pounding and now this? thereâs no way youâll be able to stop shaking.
nimble fingers find your swollen clit and give it a light pinch, then gently stroke over it; he thinks the reaction it elicits from you is absolutely deliciousâyour expression crumbles and you rock your hips back against his face, dragging your cunt all over him.
heâs drunk on your scent and taste, taking as much of you in as he can. director yaoyorozu looks pleased as she whispers something to a member of the film crew, but you donât even notice her through the sweltering haze of arousal. denki pushes the skirt further up your body, and the resounding sob that leaves your lips has him smiling against your cunt.
against your slit, his silky tongue paints peculiar patterns that your dizzy brain manages to register as the letters of his name. âfuck, âm gonna c-cum, âs comingââ your fingers tangle in his blonde hair, yanking him into your cunt as the high hits you, toes curling and teeth chattering together.
denkiâs eyes roll back as you cum on his face, but then youâre trembling and moving away when the sensitivity finally sets in. your pussy is puffy and twitching, entirely spent for the day.
âwoah,â he catches you with an arm when you drop flat on the bed, shuddering with the aftershocks of it all. âyou good, baby?â
his lips press into your temple and you nod, huffing as you try to catch your breath. unconsciously, you start to cuddle into him, arms wrapping shakily around his torso.
itâs hard to remember where you are, stars swirling in your vision, but the sight of the microphone a few meters away snaps you back into professional mode. god, you havenât been this dazed since your early days at shiketsu, where youâd been booking with some of the biggest men at the studio.
âi-i wish i didnât have to, but,â you huff quietly, slowly raising from the bed to smooth out your dress and then look for your panties. you make a big show of bending over, giving the camera a great view of your quivering, dripping cunt. you swipe the underwear from the carpet with a relieved sigh, turning to face denki, whoâs nibbling at his lower lip, already hard again. âiâm not finished cleaning the house yet. maybe i can make you some lunch later, when iâm done?â
the cheeky suggestion has an unintentional effect, denkiâs cheeks darkening perfectly for the scene. he nods slowly, caught in a stupor. you blow a kiss toward him, stepping through the fake doorway and off the set.
after a beat of silence, director yaoyorozu calls for a cut. she hops off her tall chair and claps excitedly, while crew members rush to strip the bed and clean up the set. on jelly-like legs, you wobble over to her, standing beside denki with a small smile.
âexcellent, the two of you,â she praises, ponytail swishing as she nods. âiâll update both of your agents once we get this to the editors. hehe, my intuition tells me thisâll do very well.â
you thank her together, before parting your separate ways toward the dressing areasâat least you try to, but denki trails behind you quietly, cheeks still blazing pink.
âkaminari, is everything alright?â you step behind the shoji screen, the makeshift dressing room. without needing to be asked, his fingers find the zipper at your back and he loosens the maid dress for you.
âdenki,â he corrects you with an embarrassed laugh, leaning his body against the shoji in an attempt to come across as relaxed. âi wanted to ask you aboutââ
the shoji screen topples over the moment his weight rests against it, smashing to the floor with a loud bang! you shriek, gathering the dress up around your chest as your co-star rushes to pick it up before anyone can look over. he is unsuccessful, much to your chagrin.
âoh my fuckingâiâm so sorry, shit.â
âwhat is it you wanted to ask, denki?â you ask, embarrassed. itâs like youâre back to square one again, as if you werenât just doing the nastiest things together less than ten minutes ago. he throws a hand behind his neck, awkwardly scratching the skin as he tries to calm his nerves.
âokay, look. me and a few friends of mineâUA starsââ he adds in that bit in case you need some extra convincing, âare hosting a little get together. iâm thinking maybe you can come and hang out for a little while? i can pick you up, if youââ
âthatâs very nice of you.â
the interruption makes his heart drop straight into his ass, and he immediately looks down at his bare feet. but then you speak up, and he feels a spark of hope in his chest. after all, he did promise his friends that heâd introduce you to them.
âi live nearby, i moved apartments to be closer to the studio,â you admit, fingers loosening on the dress. âwhat time is it? iâd be willing to meet some other stars, get acquainted with everyone.â
denki looks at you, joy written all over his face. he flashes you a bright smile, nodding as he collects his thoughts. âeverything starts at eight. i can just pick you up, âkay? here, iâve gotta give you my number.â
you laugh, pushing him back. âiâve gotta change first, the dress is really itchy. weâll work it out when iâm done, sound good?â
he steps out from behind the shoji screen after nodding, gold eyes shining. before he can walk away toward his own makeshift dressing room, you stop him, smiling in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.
âhey, denki? by the way, iâm really looking forward to tonight.â
#â
.SHOWTIME#mha smut#mha x reader#bnha smut#bnha x you#mha x you#bnha x reader#denki smut#denki x reader#denki kaminari#kaminari x reader#kaminari x you#smut#mha series#bnha series#mha headcanons#mha imagines#bnha imagines#denki headcanons#mha fanfiction#fanfic
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Silly creep things to try and cheer you up a little bit
LJ will juggle various items at random times, and he often does so quietly, waiting until people notice. They'll be eating breakfast and Jack is just at the end of the table juggling various fruits quietly and intensely, waiting for everyone to notice. It's become such a regular activity that they don't even question it anymore, but those who notice first often have a hard time controlling their laughter. Slender has put limitations on his juggling after he caught Jack juggling several of his very expensive vases one day, although none of the vases were damaged.
Toby is committed to trying to lick the tip of his nose and his elbow with his tongue, but he has so far been unsuccessful. That is also a common thing to see in the mansion, Toby sitting by himself, eyes in full concentration, working overtime to try and succeed in either licking the tip of his nose or his elbow. Tim always ends up having to tell him to stop because he's worried Toby's gonna somehow strain himself, especially when he starts trying to contort his arm to get his elbow closer.
BEN has started being an absolute nuisance to Jeff whenever Jeff is annoying him or picking on him, and Jeff is finally starting to learn his lesson. Jeff with say something to pick on BEN, and BEN will retort back with something worse and then take off running. Jeff, of course, will chase after him, but what BEN has started doing is last minute shifting into his ghost form and slamming a door through his body so Jeff runs face first into the door. BEN has pulled this off a whopping 10 times, and Jeff is now finally realizing that maybe he should not chase after BEN like that. There are various recordings of this happening floating amongst the residents, much to Jeff's chagrin.
Slender is in full baking mode, as he is every fall, and this year he has kicked it up a notch to a point where everyone is getting a little concerned. He uses baking as stress relief, and as he's been particularly stressed lately, he has made, in the last couple of weeks, seven pies, five cakes, and four trays of cupcakes. Despite how many people are in the mansion, Slender makes quite large desserts to combat that so normally everyone can have some, but he's made such a ridiculous amount that they're having a hard time eating through it. They can't get him to stop. He's trying new holiday recipes. He's in the kitchen right now. He's whisking away. He's going to fill the house with desserts and nothing can stop him.
Liu has very recently gotten very into board games, all thanks to BEN for showing him a couple he thought Liu would like. This is good because it's a nice group hobby, and he can teach everyone all of the games and it's a good way to spend time together. The problem is that he's so into them that he wants to play board games all the time. He keeps buying new ones and upon getting home will immediately follow people around politely asking (begging) them to play with him. He will leave the board games out and set them up as a silent sign of trying to get people to ask him if they can play. He can't stop pouting at everyone when nobody wants to play. Jeff is forced into playing the board games the most because he's his brother, and so now Jeff is trying to constantly drag people into it. They enjoy playing the games with Liu, they really do. They just also like being able to sleep and do other things. Liu can't relate. Everyone silently blames BEN for creating this monster but BEN doesn't care and is happy to have someone else around interested in board games.
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta x reader#slender mansion mayhem#ticci toby#ticci toby headcanons#ticci toby headcanon#jeff the killer headcanons#jeff the killer#jeff the killer headcanon#laughing jack#laughing jack headcanon#laughing jack headcanons#ben drowned#ben drowned headcanon#ben drowned headcanons#slenderman#slenderman headcanons#slenderman headcanon#homicidal liu#homicidal liu headcanon#homicidal liu headcanons
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Iâve been sitting with this for a couple days because I want to respond (hopefully) thoughtfully. And on the one hand, itâs a really good point and I can see how all the âI hate menâ stuff could wear on the guys who ARENâT, you know, raging assholes. But on the other hand, my forty years of lived experience is pushing back on that. Long-winded rant under the cut.
I have a fair amount of men in my life by choice- family, friends, boyfriend. The ones I choose to spend time with are, by and large, really good guys. Theyâve also heard more than their fair share of my own âI hate menâ rants, and to their credit theyâve never been upset about it. They know I donât mean them because my words and actions back it up, and they understand where Iâm coming from because they hear the stories accompanying said rants and generally agree with my assessment.
All this to say, as much as I sympathize with the good guys who have to listen to the âI hate menâ rants, I also very much donât, because they have arguably more power to help shift that narrative than I do. The shitty men of the world do not care that people think theyâre shitty, they are not changed by reason or logic. Men who, for example, sexually harass women donât (generally) hear the many, many stories from womenâs perspectives and have a lightbulb moment where they realize how wrong theyâve been. They will likely never be Ebenezer Scrooge throwing open the windows to wish the town poors a merry Christmas. But maybe, just maybe, if enough of the good guys start speaking up to call them on their behavior, that might have even a small effect on them.
âIt shouldnât be our responsibilityâ well no shit, grown adults shouldnât need to be spoon fed basic human decency, but here we are. Women telling men how much we hate being catcalled doesnât seem to be fucking working, so if the good guys arenât willing to try telling them, then Iâm out of ideas that arenât along the lines of Goodbye Earl.
One last thing, this is getting away from me. I work a public service job, and it involves a fair amount of face time with people needing help finding things and using stuff like printers. Iâm always polite and reasonably friendly, but itâs never anything beyond professionally kind. Even at that, itâs more than half of my interactions with men that leave me feeling uncomfortable. Iâve had men try to take my hand, Iâve had men ask if Iâm single thirty seconds into me walking to their computer to help, Iâve had men stand right behind my chair while Iâm looking something up. âWhy donât you just say something to them?â Because Iâm not trying to get assaulted or shouted at, Iâm trying to make it to the end of my shift and go home. Itâs extremely well documented that a lot of men donât handle rejection well, which ends with a lot of women getting assaulted or worse. And the thing about THAT is, you never know which men are gonna be the ones to lose their cool. So you just hedge your bets and tread carefully with everyone in case.
SO. What this very long-winded rant is saying, is that a lot of women encounter a lot of shitty men, and it sucks absolute donkey dick to deal with. If the good guys out there want to stop hearing about how terrible men are, they need to step the fuck up and help, because women are exhausted. The other, smaller, part that they might not like is that itâs not our job to constantly reassure them that I donât include them when I say âI hate menâ. If Iâm spending time with you, and trusting you with these stories or complaining or whatever, then go ahead and take it on faith that I donât mean you.
Maybe Iâm alone in feeling this way, I donât know. Just needed to get this out there.
I couldn't have said it better myself.
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summary: your uniform gets shrunken in the wash and shrinks a decent size smaller. Buck who already has feelings for you is more than flustered at the sight of your shirt hugging your plump tits.
word count: 1k
warnings: brief smut (nothing major), plus size!reader, fem!reader, no use of y/n, mentions of tit play + fucking, p in v??
notes: part two incoming
divider credit: @v6que
Buck felt his jaw drop as soon as you walked into the firehouse. The way your fat tits pressed desperately against the navy fabric of your work uniform, the shirt visibly much tighter than usual. His cheeks were already a bright shade of red, hot and embarrassed at the tent already threatening to form in his pants. He adjusted in his seat as you made your way over. Buck tried to hide his arousal from the rest of the team, hoping his flustered state would go unnoticed.Â
You let out a sigh as you reach the team, all spread out over the second floor of the station. Bobby was in the kitchen drying some dishes, Chim and Hen on the couch and Eddie with Buck at the table. Everyoneâs attention is turned to you, greeting you like usual before they resume their previous activities. You turn to Buck who youâre closest to, noticing how it seems he hasn't looked away from you. You realise his gaze is glued to your chest before it quickly bounces back up to meet your eyes with a hard swallow.  Â
You make a defeated- almost embarrassed face as you pull out the chair next to Buck and sit down. âMy shirt shrunk in the dryer! All my tops were wet and I was desperate to get at least one dry before my shift.â You pull at the fabric that if it wasnât for your boobs would be hugging your stomach, wanting desperately for it to be looser. âLesson learnt, I guess.â, you add with a huff.
Buck, stammering on his words, tries to comfort you, âIf it helps, I think you look amazing.â It was painfully clear to Buck now that this was going to be one very hard shift to get through. The knowing chuckle that leaves Eddieâs lips at his best friend barely breaks Bucks trance but it shifts your attention away and onto the dark haired man across from you.Â
âWhat?â, you practically whine, feeling increasingly insecure and annoyed, the shirt making you feel claustrophobic. At least eventually youâd have your gear on and thereâd be no need to be insecure. In your rush this morning you hadnât even remembered to pick up your jacket that could have been worn in the meantime.Â
âNothing.âEddie shakes his head with a grin. Buck spares him a warning glance, battling to get himself in control. Who would have thought heâd get this worked up over a shrunken shirt. Buck already knew he was attracted to you, painfully aware in fact. Eddie was also aware that his best friend was swooning, always encouraging the blond to make a move. âJust ask her out for drinks!â, heâd practically plead so he would stop having to hear Buckâs incessant ranting. But despite Buckâs confident nature and the fact he could probably have any man or woman he wanted, he remained too timid to make a move.Â
You roll your eyes only half heartedly, letting a small grin take over your features as you fall into natural conversation with Eddie. Buck stays quiet next to you, daydreaming. Imagining all the things he wants to do with those plump tits of yours.Â
He imagines taking off that shirt youâre wearing, your boobs overflowing from the cups of your bra. Palming them with his large rough hands, rolling the hardened nipples between his fingers. His tongue swirling around the swollen buds with almost animalistic need.Â
He imagines his hard cock buried between them, throbbing tip pushing out from them with every thrust, hot cum spurting across your chest and chin when he couldnât hold it any longer.Â
He thought about the way theyâd bounce as he fucked into you or you rode him. How theyâd jolt with every thump of your chest, heart beating fast as you try to catch your breath. Panting like youâd ran a marathon but really Buck had just been fucking you with little to no remorse.Â
âBuck? Earth to Evan.â The sound of your voice calling his name snapped Buck out of his thoughts. He wondered how long both you and Eddie had been trying to regain his focus. He looked around at you both with wide confused eyes, a look on his face that could only be described as one of a guilty child, caught red handed.Â
He swallows down his embarrassment, âHuh?â, is all he manages to say at first. You and Eddie stare back at him, a small idea of where his mind had run to. Taking in his dilated pupils and beetroot red cheeks, flush rising up his neck.Â
âWe were asking you if youâre okay. You seem spaced out.â, you say back. Buck normally wasnât anywhere near this quiet, unless he was upset or brooding. Always actively participating in conversation, half the time you couldnât get him to shut up.Â
âHuh, yeah- uh, Iâm fine.â, He stumbles on his words, hastily getting up from his seat. âIâm just- bathroom.â, he mumbles rushing off and down the stairs. Disappearing just as soon as the muddled sentence was leaving his lips.Â
You turn back to Eddie making a face, âWhatâs up with him?â Â
He shakes his head, smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, âNo clue.â Your eyes narrow, he definitely knew something but you decided not to push it, already have a pretty good idea yourself. Maybe youâd confront him later, especially if he kept acting strange. The thought of following after him briefly crosses your mind but the bell going off shuts that down.Â
If Buck had gone down to do what youâd thought then you already knew he wasnât going to be happy. Going down the stairs with the rest of the team following suit you can tell youâre right. Buckâs coming out of the locker room looking frustrated. He runs a hand through his short curls, irritation exuding from him. The light illuminates small droplets of sweat across his forehead, uniform only slightly messed up.Â
You canât help the smirk that forms on your face. Youâd definitely be catching up with him lately, at the very least to tease him.
#911 abc#smut#ao3 fanfic#evan buckley#station 118#wattpad#118 fam#9 1 1#9 1 1 fanfiction#plus size reader#evan buckley smut#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley x reader#eddie diaz#buck x plus size reader#evan buckley x plus size reader#evan buckley x you#911 fanfic#911 fox#911 show#911 smut#oliver stark#911onabc#911#firehouse 118#race inclusive reader#evan buck buckley#911 on abc#evan buckley oneshot#plus size!reader
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I JUST WATCHED ACT ONE AND HOLY SHIT
Do you think sevika likes biting? Like when other people do it? Because when I saw caitlyn doing it to her I couldâve sworn there was a smirk on sevikas face.
Anyway could you do like headcanons on this? If thatâs okay. I love youâ€ïž
oh i KNOW she likes biting AHAHHAAHAH
men and minors dni
really, nobody's been able to make you cum like sevika can. not even your trusty vibrator.
so, it's not surprising to you that you're always scratching up her back and leaving bite marks on her shoulders, but it is concerning.
you confront her about it early on in your relationship. both of you are naked and catching your breath in bed, sevika lazily smoking a cigarette and rubbing your back as you lay on top of her, your finger tracing the indent of your teeth on her breast.
"sevika... am i too rough with you?" you ask.
sevika chokes on her smokes, then sputters a laugh. "what're you talking about?!" she cackles.
"i'm always tearing your back up with my nails-- you've got, like scars on your shoulders now babe. and i worry that i'll draw blood one day, with my teeth or nails--"
"--okay, shut up." sevika cuts you off. you huff a bit and pinch her nipple, and sevika shivers and giggles. "baby. if you recall, i'm not exactly gentle with you, either. just fucked you like a bitch in heat, love, 'n 'm gonna have to lotion your ass from how much i was smacking it."
you suddenly feel bashful, sevika's casual discussion of the mindblowing sex you just had giving you butterflies. you bite her again, much more gently, now, right on the collarbone. "shush." you demand.
"what, you're shy now?" sevika teases. she takes a long drag off her cigarette before stubbing it out out and wrapping you up in her arms. "babe. i like it when you bite me. feels good to know i'm making you feel that good but... i also just like it. the feeling, and the bruises, 'n the way i get to show everyone you're fuckin' me... in fact, i'd like it if you did it even harder. 'n more. could probably cum in my pants from your teeth on my throat..." sevika admits, her voice trailing off and her eyes darting away from yours.
you chuckle and kiss her cheek. "who's shy now?"
sevika just smacks your ass.
so... you start biting her harder. in your time with sevika you've learned how to treat all kinds of wounds, so you aren't as hesitant as you might be to make her bleed. plus, sevika really fucking does love it.
she gets this excited little smirk going on her face when you start gnawing at her flesh, and when you finally really sink your teeth in (usually on her thighs, just a few inches away from her dripping cunt) she just melts. she whimpers and collapses against the bed and sometimes, if you're lucky, you can see her clit twitch in pleasure, despite the fact that you haven't touched her yet.
the first time she cums from it, it's an accident on your part.
you're at the last drop with her, drunk and grinding and making out sloppily in your little corner of the bar, and some woman across the room keeps eyeing her.
eventually, you pull away from her with a huff, smacking her shoulder a bit.
"w-what?" sevika asks, a little out of breath. you have to bite your lip to concentrate enough to get your words out, to resist the temptation of just kissing her again.
"d'you know her?" you ask, gesturing to the woman.
sevika quickly looks over her shoulder, a frown on her face. "w-who?"
"the bitch that's eyeing you like she's gonna be the one going home with you tonight." you growl.
a smile ticks up at the side of sevika's lips, and you scowl. "jealous, baby?"
"no. jealousy would be if you weren't mine. but you are. i'm possessive."
sevika's smile only grows, and she turns her back on her admirer to wrap her arms back around your waist. "i dunno her, love. even if i did, she'd be the last fuckin' thing on my mind tonight. first thing is your ass. second is your tongue. third and forth right here." sevika says as she squeezes your tits. you can't keep your giggles in.
"what about my teeth?" you tease.
sevika shudders, and before you know it, you're being pinned to a wall.
you groan in her mouth, wrapping one of your legs around her hips as she grinds against you. she shoves a hand under your shirt, groping your stomach and tits as you kiss.
you grab her lower lip between your teeth, and sevika freezes, hot little puffs of air hitting your face as she waits in anticipation for your next move.
you give her lip a soft nip before letting it go and ducking down to lick at her throat.
"ba-baby. please." sevika whines, her hips bucking against you in uncoordinated, sloppy little thrusts.
fuck. fuck. you don't have any real reason to worry, not when sevika's begging for your teeth in her throat. it's so hot it makes you dizzy, and you lose yourself for just a second as you clamp your teeth down into her flesh, hard.
sevika stiffens, squeaks, and then starts to shiver, her body collapsing against you and pinning you to the wall. you wrap your arms around her waist, groaning into her skin as she shivers against you.
"f-fuck!" sevika shouts. you pull away from her throat, blood and spit connecting your lips to her skin as you nuzzle her cheek. "fuck. fuck, i love you." sevika sighs.
you giggle, kissing her scars. "i love you, too, baby. can't believe you just came in your fuckin' pants for me."
sevika chuckles. "'s hot watching you get jealous, or possessive, or whatever." she says with a shrug. "'n i really fuckin' like your teeth."
you gently nip her cheek, then press your bloody lips to hers.
sevika moans at the taste.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
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No Man's Land |9|
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader
Summary: Sam canât help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.
Warnings: Fighting, Guns, Violence, Attempted Murder, Shooting
Word Count: 3.5k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
You and Sam walked back to Blackmore in a comfortable silence. You preferred the quiet and appreciated that she didnât ask you questions or push you on anything. Sam had no reason to trust you, but she was taking a chance, and you were going to make sure to prove you were worthy of her trust. When you got to Blackmore you and Sam sat on one of the benches outside the building that held Taraâs class until she came out half an hour later. As soon as you had her, the three of you went back to the apartment.
When you got back to the apartment Tara flung her backpack into the corner and plopped herself down on the couch, kicking her feet up as she reached for the remote on the coffee table. She flicked on the TV and instantly began scrolling through one of the streaming apps.
You mindlessly watched at Tara continued to scroll until you felt her eyes on you. You glanced at her and waited to see what she would say. Mindy was the most suspicious of you, which was fair, though she seemed to be more of a conspiracy theorist than anything, Chad seemed almost too trusting of you, it was slightly concerning, and Tara seemed to be hesitant of you, like Sam was with everyone, though she wasnât as paranoid Sam. The one thing different about Tara though was half her suspicion seemed to come from just being protective of her sister.
âDo you like movies?â Tara asked, squinting her eyes as she waited for your response.
You shrugged. âIâve seen a few,â you said.
That seemed to make Tara only narrow her eyes even more. âWhatâs your favorite movie?â You opened your mouth to give her what would probably be an unsatisfactory answer once again. âWait! Let me guess,â she turned so half her body was facing you. âSaving Private Ryan!â You opened your mouth, but she didnât stop there. âNo! Hacksaw Ridge!â You closed your mouth and waited; you knew she wasnât done yet. âYou have a dog you love,â she mumbled more to herself than you. âWar Horse!â She clapped her hands, quite proud of herself for that one. âWait!â She shot her hand out, grabbing you on your arm as if you were about to get up and leave. âThe Patriot.â
You waited a second to see if she had any more, but she just looked at you with a raised eyebrow. You chuckled to yourself with a shake of your head. âAll military related because Iâm in the military?â You asked.
She shrugged. You playfully rolled your eyes. âThose are all great movies,â you started. You caught Sam out of the side of your eye, she was in the kitchen making a sandwich, but she tilted her head just slightly, indicating she was listening. âThe superhero stuff is also good. I-â
âI bet youâre a Captain America person,â Tara cut you off. You rolled your eyes. âYou give off the same vibes.â
You gave her a thankful nod. You had never been compared to Captain America before and you were truly honored, though you were inclined to disagree with her. âCap is great,â you said. âAnd Steve Rogers is definitely much cooler than me.â Tara shrugged, seeming to agree with you on that. âBut Iâve always been more of a Batman person.â
Tara looked at you and nodded her head. âThat tracks.â You tilted your head in question, but she didnât elaborate any further.
âBut my default movie, the one Iâm always cool to watch, The Mummy.â
âWhere Brendan Frazier plays a soldier,â Tara nodded, clearly not surprised by the answer.
âOnly in the beginning do the movie,â you defended. Seriously the movie started with him figuring in the desert but that was it when it came to military related things. Unless Tara was also counting the pilot they found to fly them back out there.
âSo, you just really love mummies?â Tara raised an eyebrow.
âThe Mummy is fantastic, itâs got everything, action, comedy, a supernatural element, and romance. There should be no explanation required.â You had never had to defend liking The Mummy before, you thought Samâs sister was going to school for film, you figured sheâd know this better than anyone. âOh, and Rachel Weisz,â you added.
âAll good points,â Sam said, coming back into the room. She handed you a bottle of water before taking her seat in the chair next to the couch. You gave her a thankful smile; you hadnât even asked for a drink for her to just bring one to you.
âYou too?â Tara shouted, whipping her head around so fast you were surprised she didnât get whiplash.
Sam shrugged as she curled her feet up on the chair, tucking them under her before reaching for her sandwich on the coffee table. âWho doesnât love Brendan Frazier and Rachel Weisz,â she said as if they explained everything.
Sam went on to eat her sandwich while Tara was looking at her sister in a whole new light, as if she was seeing her sister for the first time. You were still new and getting to know the sisters, but you were curious why Sam liking The Mummy would be so surprising. Tara just stared at her sister for several minutes before finally going back to scrolling for a movie, finally deciding to settle on The Mummy.
Not long after the movie ended did Chad walk in with a stack of three pizzaâs, quickly followed by the others. âDinner is served!â Chad said, holding up the pizzaâs as he took them to the dining table.
âThanks for picking them up,â Sam said as she got up to grab some paper plates.
Chad waved her off and flipped open all three boxes. Each pizza was different, there was a plain cheese, a pepperoni, and then a meat lovers. You and Tara got up to join the others around the table, everyone grabbed their slices and then went off to separate corners of the room. Quinn took the seat across the room, closest to the door, Mindy and Anika cuddled up next to each other on the floor, Ethan plopped himself down in the seat furthest from the door, and Tara dropped herself down in what was Samâs seat because Chad stole her spot on the couch next to you.
Once Chad finished up his pizza, he wiped his hands off on a napkin and tossed it onto his dirty plate. He was still chewing the last bit of his food as he switched the channel on the TV and grabbed a PS4 controller. You wiped your own hands and put your trash on top of his, creating an organized little pile. You leaned back and watched the screen as Chad flipped through games.
âWhat are you playing?â you asked.
âCrash,â he said mindlessly.
âRacing or the original?â
Chadâs mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish. He looked at you then back at the TV, only to do a double take and look back at you. It was like he couldnât believe you were asking him about video games.
âR-Racing,â he said. âWant to join?â he reached over and grabbed the other controller and held it out to you.
You shrugged and took the controller from him. âSure,â you said.
The two of you selected our characters and started the first race. You let Chad pick the track, you knew heâd need the edge anyway. The two of you raced around, doing your laps, you felt everyoneâs eyes on you and the TV but you paid them no mind as you drove your way into first place. You were on the last lap when you dropped a TNT crate, only to hear Chad hit it a few seconds later. You quickly crossed the finish line, coming in first, then you leaned back and watched as Chad tried to fight his way back up the line, striving to just not come in last.
You repeated that with the same outcome another three races. Chad was hunched over, pressing the buttons hard as if that would make the cart go faster. You kept your eyes on the screen, never wavering as you completed lap after lap, coming in first every single time.
âYouâre good at this,â Chad said. âHow are you so good?â
âI play all the time when Iâm home,â you said with a shrug.
âThatâs why the only thing in your house is a game system,â Sam said.
You looked over at her and smiled. âGot my PS5 and my dog, what more could one possibly want?â Sam tilted her head, seeming to actually think about the question then nodded with a small shrug.
âOne more,â Chad said, already flipping through the tracks again.
You rolled your eyes and got ready again as Chad finally selected the track. You were fully prepared to beat Chad on every track, using any character.
You got distracted when you noticed Sam staring down at her phone. You paused the game, ignoring Chadâs protests as you waited to see what was going on with Sam. âEverything okay?â you asked.
Sam looked up, meeting your eyes. âI donât know,â she said. âYour dad is calling me,â she looked at Quinn.
Quinn furrowed her brow and leaned forward in the chair. âHeâs probably just following up,â Quinn said with a shrug. âOr wanting to update you.â
Sam nodded but she didnât seem too certain in Quinnâs guess. Whatever doubt she was having didnât stop her from raising the phone to her ear. âDetective Bailey?â Sam spoke into the phone.
You couldnât hear the other end of the line, but Samâs furrowed brow deepened. âYes, I know him,â she said. You look around the room, seeing Chad, Mindy, and Tara all looked just as confused. âOf course, Iâm on my way.â
As soon as Sam hung up the phone she was moving and so were you and Tara. Sam didnât even so much as look at any of you as she grabbed her keys. âSam,â Tara said. âSam, whatâs going on?â
âStay here,â is all Sam said.
âWhat happened?â you asked as you made your way over to the sisters.
Sam finally paused her movements and looked up at you, then at her sister. âThat was detective Bailey.â You and Tara both nodded. âHe said Doctor Stone is dead.â
âWho?â you asked. You glanced at Tara to see her furrow, her brow before her eyes widened.
âHeâs my old therapist,â Sam dropped her eyes to the floor.
You furrowed her brow; you werenât sure why Sam seemed ashamed of that. You went to a therapist; she didnât know it was because you were ordered to, but she knew you saw one. She went with you to your appointment earlier, you couldnât see why she would think you would judge her for seeing a therapist herself. You didnât want to pressure her though; she didnât owe you any answers.
âI need to go down to the station,â Sam said.
âGreat, letâs go,â Tara said, gesturing for Sam to walk towards the door.
âNo, no,â Sam spun around, holding her hand up to Tara. âYouâre staying here.â
âNo, weâre not splitting up,â Tara shook her head. âSchool was one thing, but this?â she pointed around her. âNo. Iâm going with you.â
Sam let out a tired sigh and ran a hand through her hair. âFine.â
âObviously Iâm coming as well,â you said. Sam opened her mouth, probably to argue with you as well. âThis is why you asked me here,â you whispered, looking her in the eye. You werenât sure what it was but the idea of Sam and her sister going out there alone, at night, after Ghostface killed someone connected to Sam, it didnât sit right with you.
âOkay,â Sam conceded, nodding. âThe rest of you stay here,â she said loudly, looking at each and every one of them. Once they all nodded in agreement Sam finally made her way to the door.
You followed behind Sam and Tara, keeping close as they quickly ran down the steps and out the door without a second thought. You checked your surroundings as soon as you got outside, making sure to keep your head on the swivel.
âWhy would Ghostface go after your old therapist?â Tara questioned. âI though you hadnât seen that dude in months.â
âI havenât,â Sam said. âIt was only a couple sessions before I left him.â
âSo, is he important?â you asked, inserting yourself into the conversation.
âNo,â Sam shook her head. âAs soon as he learned who I wasâŠâ she crossed her arms over her chest. âHe wasnât the right fit, we never even got into the details.â
You nodded, you could understand why she might not want to share that information. You didnât care about why she was seeing a therapist or why she left this Doctor Stone, it was none of your business. Â âThen whoever this is might not know you switched therapists.â You looked around, carefully watching the other people on the street as you passed them. âThey might have gone after him, thinking he was your current one still.â
Sam furrowed her brow and then nodded. âThe only one I mentioned my new therapist to was Tara,â she looked at her sister.
âAnd I havenât told anyone,â Tara said.
You nodded. âGood, donât tell anyone. Your therapist is safer if no one knows who they are.â
Sam and Tara both agreed and continued their walk down the street. It was only a few minutes later when Sam pulled out her phone, you saw over her shoulder that she was getting a call from some guy named Richie Kirsch.
âWhy do you still have his number?â Tara asked, clearly recognizing whoever this was.
Sam looked at her sister guiltily. âI couldnât bring myself to delete his number,â she admitted quietly. You furrowed your brow; you could only begin to guess who this guy was.
âWhat do you want asshole?â Sam asked as she answered the phone, her attitude quickly becoming aggressive.
You couldnât hear the other side of the conversation, and you were just watching Samâs reaction until you caught a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye. You just reacted, your arm shooting out to catch the arm of Ghostface as he tried to bring a knife down on Tara. You knocked Tara back toward Sam with our free arm, and twisted Ghostfaceâs hand, then punched him in the face.
âRun!â you called out to the girls, hoping they listened to you. As Ghostface stumbled back, trying to shake off the hit you brought your knee up, nailing him in the gut, and sending him falling back into the bushes.
You didnât hesitate to turn around and take off after the girls, quickly catching up to them. You felt something when you kneed Ghostface, but you didnât have time to dwell on it as Sam flung open the door to a bodega. You were only a couple steps behind them, swinging the door open to see them begging the cashier to help them.
You looked back and caught a flash of a cloak through the window. You pushed Sam and Tara back, spreading out your arms so that they wouldnât be easy to hit as Ghostface charged into the bodega. One of the customers stepped forward and was yelling at Ghostface when Ghostface just started stabbing him in the chest and then a few of the other customers.
âThe backdoor!â the cashier called out, nodding his head to the side as he reached under the counter and pulled out a shotgun. You glanced back to see a door on the other side of the room. You pushed Tara and Sam towards it so they could get out first as you kept your eyes on Ghostface.
The cashier tried to shoot Ghostface but couldnât raise the gun before Ghostface reached out and ripped it out of his hands. Ghostface flipped the gun around and blasted the cashier in the chest. Your eyes widened and you turned and grabbed Sam and Tara. Ghostface had just raised the gun and fired at the back door when you pushed Sam and Tara down to the ground behind some of the shelves.
You raised a finger to your lips and then gestured forward, indicating for them the to slowly move. You kept your back pressed against the shelf as Tara and Sam slowly crawled around to the next aisle. When they got over there Sam looked back at you and you gestured for her to continue forward. If they kept going and kept quiet, then they could make it back to the front door and while you distracted Ghostface they could slip right out. Sam seemed hesitant to continue on, but she did anyway.
You stayed low and kept your eyes looking up, waiting for the perfect opportunity. You listened as Ghostfaceâs boots slowly crunched across the broken glass and bags of chips that were now scattered across the ground. You caught a glimpse of the barrel of the gun when the sound of someone hitting a bottle echoed throughout the room.
You held your breath and froze in place. The barrel of the gun disappeared and then a shot echoed through, hitting the shelf across the room and sending snacks flying. You only had to hear the crunch of Ghostfaceâs boot to make your move, shooting up from your spot and launching yourself at Ghostface.
You grabbed onto the gun and kept it pointed up as Ghostface tried to turn it on you. The two of you went back and forth, each of you fighting for control of the gun. In your struggle the gun got pointed up and went off, blowing a hole through the ceiling and sending chunks raining down on you.
âGo!â you called over your shoulder. If the sisters didnât move now, you werenât sure you could get them another chance.
You heard the sound of footsteps running across the floor and caught a flash of Samâs jacket out of the corner of your eye. You jerked the gun up, finally ripping it out of Ghostfaceâs hands. You flipped the gun around and fired, only for nothing to happen, it was out of ammo. You flipped it back around and used the butt of the gun to smack the Ghostfaceâs chest with all your strength.
Ghostface went stumbling back until he hit the back door. As soon as Ghostface pushed off the door you thew the shot gun at him, making him react and catch it, the impact making him hit the door again. You reached behind you and pulled out your gun, not hesitating to raise it and fired three bullets into Ghostfaceâs chest.
Ghostface slid to the ground, his back against the wall and his body slumped over as the shotgun rested at his side. You stepped forward, raising the gun to Ghostfaceâs head when you finally heard the sirens. You dropped the gun back to your side and quickly tucked it back in its holster at your back before making your way out of the bodega.
Almost as soon as you stepped foot outside you were hit with a small impact. You let out a groan and looked down to see Tara with her arms wrapped around her waist. âThank you,â she mumbled into your shirt. Police officers rushed past the two of you, none of them paying you any attention as they made their way into the bodega, their guns drawn.
âAre you okay?â you asked, looking down at Tara. You werenât big on hugs but if it made Tara feel better then you were willing to accept it.
âWhat happened?â Sam asked, rushing up beside you. âDid you get him? Are you hurt?â she looked you up and down, searching for new injuries.
âIâm fine,â you assured her. âI shot him, but I didnât get him,â you looked back at the front door, just waiting for him to come out.
âWhat do you mean?â Sam furrowed her brow. Tara finally released you and looked up as she waited to hear your answer as well.
âHe was wearing bullet proof vest.â
âAre you sure?â
You nodded. âFlet it as soon as I kneed him on the street.â It took a while with all the adrenaline for you to finally connect the dots as to what you felt. You had more to say btu you didnât think this was the time or place with all the prying eyes. You knew it was a good idea to keep the information to yourself when the cops came back out and said Ghostface was gone.
You, Tara, and Sam rushed back into the bodega to see the back door open, the lock that was on the door now lay scattered on the ground. Ghostface recovered fast, he could certainly take a hit, but you werenât surprised he escaped. Just one fight with this Ghostface and you had enough information to narrow down your suspects. You werenât sure when youâd have the time or privacy to go over everything with Sam though.
Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess @luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee
#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x reader#sam carpenter x you#sam carpenter imagine#sam carpenter x fem!reader#samantha carpenter#samantha carpenter x reader#melissa barrera#scream#scream vi#scream 6#no man's land
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With a wet squelching sound, Alice wrenched a massive mace from the skull of massive warrior demon. It had been a fairly even fight to her surprise, Most likely due to all the souls he had collected from the villagers before she had arrived to liberate them. With a flick of her wrist the massive mace was free of debris and she set it head first into the ground with a resounding thud before kneeling. The remaining villagers watched in awe from within their homes as the strange paladin lifted thier helm and placed it up on her knee, begining to offer a prayer. When she had arrived they instantly had recognized âAlice, Mace of Righteousnessâ, the Savior those who were repressed, be it by demons on mankind. Whoâs signature mace, the two handed relic Demons-Weight, she held in one hand like a mere stick.
What they hadnât expected were the signature horns on her helm to not be mere decorations. They did not expect her once fair skin to be marked by burns and scars clearly from the helm itself nor the bursts of flame occasionally escaping from the now open crevice of her armor. They did not ever dream that their saviour would actually be a Demon herself.
âO patron mine, Charon ferryman of souls, I beseech thee to hear my plee. Please retrieve the souls here released from mine victory against this demon, as I have no want nor need of such things. Please allow them their proper rest away from others who would wish them harm.â
With each word her armor had begun to glow as flames began encompassing her. It was as if every piece of her armor was angrily attempting to burn away what inhabited it. If Alice was in pain, she showed no signs of it. The villagers continued to watch in awe as the skin on her face burned away while just as quickly healing. It was af she was torturing herself by merely existing and making things worse with her prayer.
As suddenly as the flames had began they died. Those who had been watching could never agree on when the elderly man had shown up at her side. He never spoke, merely offering a nod to Alice, placing a withered hand upon her shoulder with a somber look before walking away into the distance.
Standing and placing the helmet once more upon her head with a small sputter of flames, Alice turned to leave as she always did and was surprised to be greeted by the few remaining villagers. There were perhaps about sixteen of them simply standing there, all woman except for a pair male children. Before Alice could utter a word one of the children, likely barely three winters old, had stumbled over and given her a hug around her waist. A muffled thanks floated up from the child, and Alice merely nodded and placed a armored glove on the child's shoulder.
"I am sorry I could not get here before the damage had been done small one. The only comfort I can offer is that your families souls will be safe and well taken care of."
Looking up, Alice realized that the others had also come closer as they also began to offer their thanks. One in particular had gotten her attention however. An elder woman that seemed to be staring at here as if recognizing Alice. Eventually the elder had come over, asking if she might touch her armor. Alice simply nodded as the elder traced her fingers across the emblem across her breastplate, a single word falling from her lips causing Alice to freeze.
"Josaphine..."
Alice's voice cracked as she spoke, clearly shaken at the name.
"How... how do you know that name?"
The elders eyes shot up, locking with Alice's through her helm, filled with a sorrow that easily matched that with rested withing Alice herself.
"She was my granddaughter." She stated matter of factly. "I was so proud to learn she had become a cleric of great renown. She always was a kind soul, always treating everyone the same no matter where they were from. Be it a king or devil, she would be as kind as mother to all."
Alice nodded gently, eyes still locked with the elder. "I know this very well. She and I were... close... she saved me from being destroyed many years ago, she is why I am able to protect so many." Alice paused a moment before adding, "Even though I was unable to do the same for my love."
To her surprise the elder smiled, resting her hand upon the helms cheek as if comforting a child. "Do not worry little one, things that happened in the past are not the fault of yours." Before Aloce could object the elder shushed her with a finger, smiling warmly. "Josaphine spoke of you often you know. When she would return home on her way between chapels. Oh how she would talk! Never had I seen a happier girl. And we had you to thank for her light being so bright. Just as we have you to thank for saving what light we have left."
The elder seemed to sense Alice's confusion, as she again smiled and kept on. It was a few moments before Alice realized she had somehow been brought into one of the homes and now sat at a table with the elder as she prepared a small bowl of stew.
"Even as a cleric, her faith was not in any one god, but in her own conviction. Anyone, no matter where from, could be a good person in her eyes. Even a demon~" The elder chuckled and bopped Alice's helmet gently.
"No hats at the table~" she quipped , a small joke to get Alice to remove it before eating so she could see her face better.
After remiving her helmet, Alice's raven hair spilled over onto her armor as her bright golden eyes watched the elder closely.
"Now then," the elder continued, "you know more than anyone how much love and compassion Josaphine had. You two were a couple after all~" Alice's face somehow managed to darken in embarrassment as she tried to offer an excuse before a raised spoon silenced her. "Shush child, there is nothing wrong with loving my granddaughter. Just because you are a demon does not make it inherently a bad thing. And besides, you wear her armor with pride and that makes me proud. Hearing of her death during the great battle years ago did sadden us. And you even more I am most certain. The timing was likely the worst that ever could have happened. Josephine had wanted to take your hand in marriage you see."
The spoonfull of stew attempted to go down Alice's windpipe as she started mildly choking on surprise at the elders words. After a good bit of hacking she stared at the elder for a moment before whispering, "she.. she told you that, to?" The words carried a shocked tone. "I.. she... it was to be a surprise, but I overheard her talking to herself one morning when she thought I hadn't yet woken. It was difficult to keep my excitement from showing. Not only was she the first person to show me any kindness, but she could always put a smile on anyone's face."
Alice pasued for a moment before continuing with a somber tone.
"Not even two days later... that's when the invasion from a neighboring county happened. They had surprised everyone by enlisting the help of demons..." Alice practically spat the word demons out, disgusted with her own kind. "Josaphine was one of the first to respond. She tore down many of their ranks protecting the children in the chapel, but was laid low by a wretch that had snuck behind during the fighting..."
Alice's voice caught as she recalled the day.
~~
She had gone out into the woods nearby to gather some things for dinner later that night. It was one of the few times she didn't uses illusions to hide her form and was a sort of peacetime for her. Only when alone with Josaphine did she lower her guise. The rising smoke in the distance was the first sign that something had gone wrong. Leaving her pack she had rushed back to find the small village besiged by both men and demons. It looked to be merely a scout force by it's size but for a small village ot was a death sentence.
Immediately Alice ran to the chappel to find Josaphine on the ground, a wicked dagger buried in her side as she laid on the ground bleeding out. Falling to her knees Alice frantically searched for something to stop the bleeding before Josaphine grabbed her hand with a weak smile. Even though she knew she was dying she only asked if the children were safe. Tears falling from her face Alice told her that the holy site had kept the demons out, and that it looked like the human soldiers hadn't made it there yet. A wave of relieve had washed over Josaphine, a smile following shortly after.
"Protect them, Alice. The children have always loved you. Even when they followed you into the forest without you knowing." She coughed up some blood as she paled, but laughing weakly she continued. "I know it's selfish of me, but please finish what I could not. Save those that remain... please..."
The sound that left Alice as she watched the light leave Josaphines eyes could have only been described as pure anguish. Taking up Josaphines great mace as she stood, Alice winced as the holy power set her hands ablaze. But she did not care. All she cared about was fulfilling her loves final wish. With a battle roar that would challenge ever an arch demon she set out to stop those that had taken everything from her.
~~~
Snapping back to the present, it was clear that the elder had patiently waited for Alice to come back to her senses. "You know, Alice, she did leave something here for you. We never knew how to get a message to you, and unfortunately it had to come about this way, but nevertheless you're here now." The elder placed a small box on the table next to Alice. Staring at it for a moment Alice debated what to do. The size made it seem like a bracelet box perhaps, maybe a small coin stash even. Curiosity got the better of her finally, wanting to know just what Josaphine had left her, and when she opened it tears fell from her golden eyes again for the first time in years.
A pair of rings lay within a velvet blanket inside the box. One looked to be made of pure silver and the other of obsidian. It was clearly a play on their very beings, but what caught her attention the most was that the rings interlocked to become one. Gingerly picking them up and merging them she marveled at the craftsmanship. "These.. these are mine now?" Was all Alice could manage to say. The elder nodded, a smile again across her wrinkled face. Alice pulled a small length of chain out of her breastplate and looped the ring onto it, stowing it back inside close to her heart.
"Know that anytime you need rest, you are always welcome here. As far as I am concerned you are my granddaughter just as much as Josaphine was. This is your home as much as it was hers. And if you ever need to talk about the past, well, I'll be here."
Alice nodded, surprising the elder with a sudden hug and whispered thank you.
"I'll be sure to come by more ofter then grandmother."
You are a demoness that fell in love with a female paladin, however when her order discovered her affair she was murdered. Now, despite how her arms and armor burn you, you set out to continue her work.
#writing inspiration#writing prompts#remember#writeblr#writers#writing prompt s#i couldnt really figure out how i wanted to end this#and i feel like the backstory needs its own seperate thing#but i also feel like i kinda just started rambling after a bit#X.X#hopefully its alright though
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More of this.
"y/n ?â
Sukuna calls out for his roommate. They're currently lounging in the living room, each one doing their own thing. This is typical for them, especially after dinner since they both eat earlier than most people. One would be watching something on TV and the other would be reading or on their phone, occasionally talking but for the most part they sit in comfortable silence.
âYes, Kuna?â
He holds back from grinning at the new nickname she gave him. Surprisingly, no one in Sukuna's life has ever called him that, but he quite likes it, especially since it came from her.
âGojo's hosting a party at his and Suguru's place and they're inviting you. Do you wanna go together?â
She didn't hesitate to agree but warned him that it's her first time going to a college party and she might cling to him the whole time they're there because she's probably not going to know a lot of people. He promises her that he will not separate from her and that she'll have a great time, and he offers her solutions for when she gets overwhelmed, which she appreciates greatly.
Sukuna's excited for her to be at the party. He'll get to show her off, have fun with her and his friends, and most importantly, protect her from any unwanted attention. He wants to show that he's strong and capable of protecting her when needed. For what reason? Well, he hasn't figured that part out yet, but he knows for sure that he wants to do that.
Yeah... He definitely doesn't know the reason.
Things are not going as planned for Sukuna... For the most part anyways.
His roommate is having a blast. Satoru and Suguru are amazing hosts because they provided everything for her to be comfortable. Satoru offered her his room in case it all got too much for her and she needs a break, Suguru went out and got her non-alcoholic drinks in the middle of the party because she told him she doesn't drink. All three of them are trying their best to include her in conversations and games so she wouldn't feel pushed aside.
Thankfully, all their efforts are working. She has told them she's having a lot of fun multiple times. No one has bothered her yet, something Sukuna didn't expect because she gets hit on every time they're out together, and don't get him started on the amount of men that approach her at the gym asking for her number.
What he also didn't expect was for him to be hit on. It never usually happens, people are way too intimidated by him. The only time he gets flirted with is at a bar when they're both drunk. But this time, it's different.
If he's honest, he's getting quite annoyed. This girl wouldn't leave him alone. He's been trying to reject her gently all night long, but she seems to not understand what he's trying to say.
At first, she sent her friend who asked him if he was single, he gave them a simple "yes and not looking." answer before going back to playing beer pong.
Then, she approached him herself, talking about "sorry about my friend haha, they're crazy!". He knows that it's all bullshit, he saw them talking to each other in the corner of the room before each one talked to him. He sent her a forced smile and didn't say a word to her but she still wouldn't leave him alone.
And even now, as he sits in a circle with some of the people at the party playing an intense game of Uno, in which she is not participating, she's still trying to squeeze between him and the person to his right, telling him what cards to play and acting like they're a team against everyone else.
He doesn't want to be mean or rude and snap at her, people are just figuring out that he's not an asshole like his looks might give off, but god is it hard to hold back. He wants to tell her to fuck off and that he's not - and will not be - interested in her, but he can't and it's making him even more annoyed.
Y/n on his left has started noticing his annoyed huffs and how he's scooting closer and closer to her every time she hears that girl talk. One quick glance at his face and body language told her everything she needs to know.
Oh how the turn tables... Or whatever the saying is, because Sukuna's plans are about to flip around.
âhey, girl in the sequin top,â y/n calls out just as her turn started, making everyone look at her and the girl breathing down his neck, âcan't you get a hint? You're clearly making him uncomfortable.â
The girl huffs and looks y/n up and down, as if she's trying to intimidate her but clearly it didn't work, âwho are you to say whether he's uncomfortable or not? He can speak for himself, right Suki?â her voice becomes sickly sweet at the end, almost squeaking in his ear. He wants to vomit at that ugly nickname coming out of her mouth. He doesn't like it, in fact, it's the worst thing he has ever been called, and people have called him way worse offensive things.
He's about to speak up, but y/n quickly (and without realising) interprets him, âAre you dumb on purpose? He's about to sit on my lap trying to get away from you,â she mentions to the nonexisting empty space between them, âyou're annoying everyone, leave before you embarrass yourself further.â
The girl scoffs and rises to her feet, her gaze sharpens with a glare as she places a hand on her hip, âif you're looking for a fight then bring it on now!â she declares, her voice laced with almost too much confidence.
Without any hesitation, y/n shrugs off her jacket and rises to her full height. It's clear as day who would win if things got physical. Sequin top girl is shorter than her, even in heels, and itâs obvious that y/n has spent far more time with a punching bag than she ever has.
Y/n raises an eyebrow as the girl swallows hard, her eyes flickering up to meet hers. The shift in her demeanor is unmistakable, her confidence replaced with intimidation. âyou're gonna leave now or what?â y/n asks, her tone steady and unbothered.
With a huff, sequin top girl grabs her friend and disappears between the crowd of people, hopefully leaving the house entirely. Y/n sits back down and puts on her jacket, ignoring how everyone is staring at her so her cheeks wouldn't burn any further. Her heart is hammering against her chest, not being used to confrontation, but she is proud to stand up for her roommate.
She quickly plays her turn and thankfully everyone in the circle understood that she doesn't want to keep the attention on what happened and continued the game. She can feel Sukuna staring at her, so she turns to him, hoping he won't notice how flustered she feels, âwhat are you staring at?â
Sukuna knows that she's not the type to do what she did, she doesn't even like correcting the servers when they get her order wrong, but she stepped out of her comfort zone to defend him when he couldn't do it for himself. He's feeling something in his heart, something he can't describe, but he doesn't hate the feeling, it's nice actually, like a warm blanket wrapped around him on a cold night.
He planned on protecting her, on turning away anyone who would ruin her night, but instead she protected him and stood up for him. If he was lying down his feet would be kicking.
âthat was kinda hot.â
âshut up,â she mumbles and looks away from him and towards the ongoing game, clearly too shy to accept his teasing compliment. He chuckles and does the same, not wanting to fluster her more than she's clearly feeling.
One day, he'll return the favour.
Something quick for roomie!sukuna đ€
#áŻáĄŁđ© beloved's stories#divider by v6que#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x female reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x reader#sukuna x fem!reader#sukuna x female reader#roomie! sukuna#roommate! sukuna#ryomen sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk fanfic#ryomen x reader#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#roommates au#sukuna#strong!reader#tall!reader#self insert#boxer!reader#buff! reader#jjk fluff#jjk x reader
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But Two Though?
Summary: In which you're so in love with your boyfriend that you see yourself starting a family with him and you obviously had to sing about it!
Track 10 of short n' sweet - juno
Quinn Hughes x Singer!reader
Warning: romantic themes, kissing, pet names, mentions of children, mentions of parenting, and mentions of sex.
A/N: even tho it's a singer reader this imagine also has AFAB!reader(cause of the song lmao) I still use they/them pronouns, no need to worry about that.
Juno is literally so good, and since I gave Nico bed chem, I just HAD to give quinn Juno! Hope you enjoy. And I had this fun idea of embarrassing Quinn when he's with his family on stage last night soooooo
You were estastic when you found out Quinn and his family would be at your concert tonight.
You brushed your hair for what felt like the hundredth time as you calmed your nerves.
Your manager later called you to get on stage, and you rushed there immediately. Your fans cheered as they saw you with your guitar.
"Hi everyone!" You waved to them all.
The crowd roared in excitement as they saw you and sang along to your many songs till the very last one. Little did they know that you had a little surprise.
You finished your last set, and when you didn't go off the stage like you normally would have, your fans grew in confusion but nonetheless enjoyed it.
"You didn't think the show was over, did you?" You chuckled teasingly. "I just have a little special song."
Your fans gasped as the Hughes looked at Quinn for an answer that never came.
"I wrote this song but I'm like never gonna release it." You chuckled. "Might give it to sabs- Sabrina or something. She'll certainly know what to do with it."
Your fans cheered at the slip-up not nonetheless you continued.
"I can't say much about this song, but... it is different from my other songs, different from older and five seconds flat." You explained. You and Quinn were quite private about your relationship, so you didn't want to go overboard on the speech. "I don't know how to describe it, but it made me feel things I didn't even know I would ever feel. This song is called Juno, like the movie Enjoy."
Your fans cheered to your speech as you strung notes on your guitar.
"Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing, oh yeah you just get it." You sang. "Whole package babe, I like the way you fit god bless your dad genetics."
Your mind flashes to you and Quinn in bed, cuddling next to each other in the night. The love you two shared never fading only growing stronger after that night.
"Will this change something between us?" You asked, looking up at him.
"What? No, never. We're still us, you know that." He reassured you.
"Still us." You confirmed in his hold.
Quinn looked at you in confusion. He knew your songwriting, it was a shock that this song was more upbeat and not lyrical there was a hint of fun behind it.
"I know you want my touch for life. If you love me right, then who knows," You hummed. "I might let you make me Juno."
He knew this song was about him, but how? Unless... Oh... oh
You saw Quinn as he interacted with J.T.'s kids and how easy it was to do so. It made your heart swell.
Natalie came up behind you. "You want one, don't you?"
You put a hand on your heart, currently not expecting it. "What?"
"A kid," She clarifies.
Your face flushed as you realized you have been caught. "I mean sure one day but it's too early."
"Well it doesn't help to try now, talk to him." She encouraged.
"Believe me, we've been trying." You chuckled dryly, Natalie on the other hand laughed loud.
"What's so funny?" Quinn was in front of you two now, holding one of the kids at his hip and you couldn't help but wonder... what if that was your kid?
"Oh nothing, Y/N just telling me what an amazing cook you are." Natalie winks at you as she takes her leave with her kid in tow.
Quinn eyed her suspiciously. "Okay... what were you two really talking about?"
"Exactly what she said, how you're a great cook, an amazing one." You lied through your teeth.
Quinn knew you were lying, if anything you was a much better cook than he was but he decided to let it slide and hugged you from behind the rest of the time.
You continued on with the song, getting out of your comfort zone more and more with each line. "Adore me, hold me and explore me, mark your territory tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one."
Luke hums. "This song is definitely was not what I expected."
Jack exclaims. "I'm sorry, did they just say what I think they just said? They just said they're horny on stage."
"You don't have to repeat it." Quinn mutters, his face getting flushed as the song came to a close.
Ellen looked at her son lovingly. "Been together five years and you still get shy when you hear a song they wrote about you."
"Let's not tease him too much he still has yet to ask the question." Jim joked.
"Dad," Quinn groaned.
"You can borrow my ring sweetie, the replica that is." Ellen offers.
"No mom it's not that..." Quinn trailed off.
Jack being the first one to realize, gasped aloud, and shook Luke back and forth. "You already have a ring!"
"I'm going to wait for them backstage." Quinn began to walk away.
"At this rate, we're gonna have to propose for him." Luke mutters, Ellen hit him on the head as a response as they followed Quinn.
When the rest of the family got there, you was already in Quinn's arms looking at him lovingly. They decided to go into their own conversations, letting you two talk alone.
"Did you like the song at the end?" Your voice began timid, the more you grew vulnerable.
Quinn hums. "Yeah, it was nice. Didn't know you wanted a kid with me."
"Yeah, I've been meaning to tell you about that." You look away from his gaze but he quickly gets it back.
"I want to have kids with you too Y/N. If I wanted anyone to make me a father it would be you." Quinn admits.
"You really that?" You said hopefully.
"Of course I do, but I would want to do something first before we get started." He says.
You grow confused. "And what would that be honey?"
"I would like to marry you." Quinn says without hesitation.
Your eyes widened in size as you took in his words. "You want to marry me?"
"I don't have the ring with me right now and I love you too much to say just one speech but I do know that I see myself spending the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me." Quinn looks at you hopefully.
"I'll always want you Quinn, I would be glad to marry you." You caressed his cheek, his eyes closing at your touch.
"I love you guys but please do not make me an uncle tonight." Jack says.
You both glared at Jack who quickly back off, he mutters a sorry and says he'll meet them in the car, Luke joining him.
Once they're gone, Quinn looks at his parents with a shy smile. "We're getting married."
#nhl#nhl imagine#luke hughes#jack hughes#nhl hockey#nhl players#verycoolusername1#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes#qh43#vancouver canucks#canucks hockey#huggy bear#nhl x reader#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#quinn hughes blurb
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Lemonade - Part 5
leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader
Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah. But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?
Chapter Summary: the aftermath of your concussion
Warnings: pregnancy, self-harm, disordered eating, bullying
a/n: sorry if this chapter is a little bit dark in parts. if you're still reading the series, thanks so much for sticking with me. I appreciate it more than you know.
|| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 ||
PART 5
You woke up on a plastic bed in a room that smelled like the awful cream your Mummy would rub on her legs after Netball, surrounded by a million different kinds and colours of sellotape.
You could hear voices, and you looked over to the corner of the room to find your Aunty Leah consoling your Aunty Lessi as she cried. She looked distraught, her eyes red and puffy with tears.
âI should have known it would overwhelm her. I was just so excited to share this with herâŠâ
âBabe, sheâs going to be okay. Weâre still learning all this, yeah?â
âBut weâre meant to protect her, and⊠and I- IâŠâ Aunty Lessi choked on her words before Aunty Leah cut her off.
âAnd I should have had a tighter grip on her when I saw she was panicking. Like I said, weâre both still learning how to do this. The medics said sheâs got a bit of a concussion, but sheâll be alright. We know how concussions work, so weâve just got to keep our eyes on her and make sure she gets lots and lots of rest.â
There was a quiet knock at the door, before an important looking lady with a clipboard came in.
âLess, sorry but we need to know if youâre going to play the second half or not?â she asked.
As your Aunties turned toward the door, they realised that you were awake.
âOh Bunny, sweetie, youâre awake. How are you feeling?â your Aunty Lessi rushed over to you, her hands coming down to gently cradle the sides of your head.
You looked up at her a bit stunned, rather confused about why you were where you were and why everyone seemed so upset.
âDoes your head hurt? Do you feel sick or dizzy at all?â she asked, her hand softly brushing through your hair.
You tried to think about if you felt sick or dizzy, but all you could really feel was a powerful throbbing rattling through your head. You also felt really, really tired. But you had just woken up, so that could perhaps explain that. You donât remember going to sleep though, which was starting to concern you.
âI feel okay,â you replied, trying to brush away your Auntyâs concern.
âAlessia, sorry, we need t-â the lady at the door began to ask again.
âI wonât be playing, sorry. My family is more important right now,â Aunty Lessi told her.
âLess, you should go play. Iâll stay with Bunny and make sure sheâs-â
Your Aunty Lessi whipped around to face Aunty Leah. âNo, Leah. Iâm not leaving her. Sheâs hurt.  Weâll get a car to take us back to the training centre so we can go home early,â she insisted firmly.
Aunty Leah replied with a sad smile and a nod. âIâll go get our stuff packed up then, yeah?â
âIâm okay Aunty Lessi, you should play!â you tried to insist.
âNo Bunny, there would be no point in me playing anyways. I would be so distracted out there and worrying about you I would probably kick the ball into the wrong goal by mistake.â
By the time you finally got back home that night, your head was still pounding and you were struggling to stay awake. You were trying your hardest to be big and brave and pretend like you were okay, but as soon as you stepped into bath, your whole façade fell apart. As the warm water lapped at your tense muscles, which you now realised youâd been clenching in an effort to distract from the pain in your head, your resolve melted and you began to weep.
You brought your knees up to your chest and dropped your head forward, your hands entwining at the back of your head as your little body shook with each sob. The tears and jagged breaths only intensified the pain in your head though, which in turn caused more tears and jagged breaths. You tried your hardest to stay as quiet as possible, but you were aware that your cries were becoming increasingly vocal.
There was soon a soft knock at the door, followed by your Aunty Lessiâs voice. Whilst making sure you still got clean and dressed, your Aunties had always tried to give you your privacy while bathing and dressing, which you appreciated. They were your Aunties, but it still felt weird being undressed around people who werenât your parents.
âBunny? Are you okay?â she called through the closed door.
âIt hurtsâ you cried in response.
âWhat hurts honey?â
âEverything. My head hurts most.â
âHow about we give you some medicine to make it hurt less, yeah?â
âOkay.â
âAnd then we can get you to bed, and you can try and get some rest, alright?â
âOkay.â
There was a short pause. Youâd assumed your Aunty had gone away to get the medicine, but then you heard her voice again.
âBun, you donât always have to try and be big and brave yâknow? If youâre hurting, you can tell us. Always. I promise you wonât be in trouble or we wonât make fun of you or anything. We just want you to feel okay.â
âOkay.â
You didnât fully believe her. You wanted to, but a part of you still believed that there was only so much love and affection to go around and you needed to space that out at least until Lemonade arrived. You didnât want to use it all up on this incident.
So you tried your hardest to push the pain down and away as you quickly washed yourself. You managed to get yourself up and out of the bath and wrapped in a towel before there was a knock at the door again.
âYou can come in,â you mumbled, making sure the towel was secured tightly under your arms.
Your Aunty Lessi entered with a little cup filled with pink medicine and a cup of water. She kneeled down to your height as she offered it to you.
âNow it says strawberry flavoured on the bottle, so hopefully it wonât taste too bad.â
You gingerly took the cup and gulped the medicine down, wincing at the distinctly fake strawberry taste. You quickly grabbed the cup of water from your Auntyâs other hand and skulled that down to wash away the lingering flavour.
âGood job, Bun. Now letâs get you into your PJâs and into bed, yeah?â
By the time you were under the covers, arms tightly wrapped around your beloved Arthur, the pain in your head had dulled to only a mild ache.
âGoodnight sweet girlâ your Aunty Lessi whispered, kissing the top of your head.
âNight Aunty Lessiâ you mumbled back.
It was the first time you slept through the night without waking up to a nightmare since the fire.
--
You woke up to the smell of Aunty Lessiâs lasagne wafting through the house. However, as you opened your eyes and came to your senses, you immediately panicked.Â
You were not in your own bed.Â
You were in your Aunties bed.
You had no idea how youâd come to be in their bed. The last thing you remembered you were lying on the floor in the loungeroom studying one of the books the Arsenal girls had given you about football. You were trying to understand where all the different positions were on the pitch and what responsibilities each position had. You had been figuring out the difference between a centre-back and a full-back when you had⊠fallen asleep.
Bad. Bad. Bad.
Whilst it had been a few days now since your accident and youâd had a couple of days off school and your head no longer hurt, you were still feeling extra extra tired from your concussion.  Youâd spent most of that day at school trying to hide your yawns from your teacher and classmates. When youâd been given some free time after finishing one of your activities ahead of the rest of the class, the same group of students that always seemed to catch you at your weakest had caught you dozing off in the corner of the room where youâd been reading. Theyâd tied your shoelaces together and were starting to draw on your arm when you woke up. You hadnât realised theyâd also put rolled up pieces of paper in your hair braid until your Aunty Leah pointed them out when she picked you up.
Youâd tried to brush it off and said it was just a game all the kids were playing with each other, but the concerned frown your Aunty gave you implied she didnât quite believe your lie.
âYou know you can tell us if thereâs anything going wrong at school, yeah? If anyoneâs picking on you or calling you names or anything?â
You just nodded. There was no way you would ever tell your Aunties what was really happening at school. You would just deal with it like a big girl. Push through. Be brave. They had bigger things to worry about than some kids putting paper in your hair and saying mean things. Your Aunty Leah was growing a human AND mending her busted knee for heavenâs sake! You could deal with some silly paper in your hair.
When youâd got back to the house, you went straight to your room to undo your braid and pluck all the little pieces of paper from your hair. Youâd counted them (23 in total) before scrunching them up and throwing them in the little wastepaper basket beside your desk.Â
As the paper hit the basket, a tiny ball of raging heat began bubbling in your chest. You didnât know what to do with it or how to describe it, but it made you want to stomp your feet and hit a wall and scratch at your skin. Youâd never been the best at describing emotions, but you were pretty certain this wasnât sadness. Perhaps, this was anger? Frustration? Disappointment?Â
The tiny ball continued to bubble and grow as you lunged for your bed where Arthur lay. You attempted desperately to use your tried and tested method of rubbing his ear against your cheek to calm the feeling, and whilst it felt nice, it did nothing to soothe your need to stomp or hit or scratch.
You searched your room urgently for something else to ease the searing heat in your chest, even gulping down the remnants of a cup of water on your bedside table. But nothing worked. You needed to stomp or hit or scratch. You knew couldnât stomp your feet or hit a wall, because that would be loud, and your Aunty would hear and come ask what was wrong. So, you decided to scratch.Â
You had to pick somewhere not too visible so that if you left a mark, nobody would see and ask what happened. So, you tugged up the hem of your school dress and pushed down your tights and began scratching at the skin at the top of your right thigh.
The relief was instant.Â
The second your nails dug into your flesh, the little ball of heat in your chest began to cool. You scratched and scratched, and scratched some more until it finally, finally disappeared. By the time you eventually stopped, your skin was stinging, and your fingers were cramping. But the little ball of heat was gone, and that was all that mattered.
There was a gentle knock on the door as you speedily pulled your tights back up, wincing as they brushed against your newly tender skin.
Your Aunty Leah popped her head in through the door, âBun, do you want a snack? I got some blueberry muffins from the bakeryâŠâ
âOh⊠um, yeah, Iâll be right down, just getting that paper out of my hair,â you mumbled, quickly running your fingers through the ends of your messy blonde mane.
âAlright, Iâll pop them in the microwave to warm them up,â she replied before heading back downstairs to do so.
As you heard her footsteps fade away, you turned around and pulled your tights down again, trying with all your might not to release a pained noise as the fabric ripped away from your newly raw skin. The area youâd scratched was an angry red colour and the skin seemed wet, but there was no blood, which whilst a relief, made no sense to you.
Not wanting to keep your Aunty waiting, you hastily pulled your tights the rest of the way off and threw them in your laundry hamper. The house was warm enough, but you decided to grab your soft little blanket that had purple and grey clouds, as well as the book on football you had been reading and the little notebook youâd been making notes in (and Arthur of course), and head downstairs.
âPerfect timing Bun, just took them out of the microwave. Do you want a drink?â
âIâm okay. Thank you, Aunty Leah, this looks lovelyâ you replied, climbing up onto a stool in front of the kitchen bench where a little plate with a yummy looking blueberry muffin sat.
âWell, we all know the kitchen is Aunty Lessiâs domain. That woman can cook like a dream! But Iâm not too shabby at picking out a good pastry. I guess you could say bread and bread-adjacent foods are my domain,â she teased.
You giggled as you tucked into your muffin, appreciating your Aunty Leahâs silly jokes about how bad at cooking she was and how limited the range of foods she ate was. Your extended family often seemed to tease her a bit about being a picky eater and she would usually laugh it off or join in on the joke. But you knew it was something she was actually a bit self-conscious about.Â
A few days into your stay here youâd gone to the fridge to grab some milk for your cereal and had accidentally knocked a container off a shelf. As you bent down to pick it up, you noticed a little letter stuck to the lid that read âLeah, my love, itâs okay if you canât eat this. I know you tried and Iâm proud of you. Please just make sure you eat something or at least have a protein smoothie. For you and for âLâ. Love you â xx Less.â Youâd immediately felt guilty for reading it as you rushed to put it back on the shelf, knowing youâd intruded on a bit of your Auntieâs privacy. Youâd seen a few similar little notes stuck to containers since then. At the time youâd been very confused about what âfor you and for âLââ meant, but you had since figured out it meant âfor you and for Lemonadeâ.Â
When you finished your muffin, you wriggled off the stool and headed over to place your plate in the dishwasher.
âAre you done with your plate too, Aunty Leah?â you offered.
âOh, thanks sweetie, you didnât have to do that,â she replied as she passed you her plate with a smile. âFeel free to watch something on the telly if you want. Iâve got a bit of boring adult housework stuff to catch up on before Aunty Lessi gets home.â
âIs there anything you need help with?â you asked.
âNo, no. Iâve just got to do a couple of loads of laundry and thereâs no way I would make you deal with Aunty Lessiâs gross smelly training socks! Itâs bad enough poor little Lemonade is stuck with me and canât escape from it,â she laughed, jokingly shielding her belly from the smell.
âIs it okay if I just read in the loungeroom?â you asked.
âOf course it is! Just remember if your head starts to hurt or youâre feeling too tired or anything, to have a rest, yeah?â she smiled at you, stroking her fingers affectionately through your hair.
âI will, thank you.â
So, you made yourself comfortable in a little spot on the loungeroom floor, surrounded by a couple of cushions, the blanket youâd brought down from your room and, of course, Arthur. Soon you were laying on your belly, nose deep in the book and jotting down notes in your notebook all about what a penalty shootout was and what circumstances led to one. You drew a little picture of the goal and the line markings and where the goalie had to stand and where the other players had to stand, before turning back to the book to read about in-game penalties when slowly but suddenly you⊠were⊠asleep.
The next thing you knew you were waking up in your Auntieâs bed to the smell of your Aunty Lessiâs lasagna.
The realisation hit you like a hundred bolts of lightning.
Youâd slept in someone else bed.
Bad. Bad. Bad.
Bad things happen when you sleep in someone elseâs bed.
The last time youâd slept in someone elseâs bed, your house burned down, and your Mummy and Daddy had died.
You jumped out of the bed as though it was burning you, panic rattling all through your little body.
âBad. Bad. Bad.â
Your right hand began hitting at the side of your head before you even knew it was happening.
âBad. Bad. Bad.â
Your other hand clawed at the skin of your neck, scratching determinedly at the tender skin there.
âBad! Bad! Bad!â
You tried so hard to stop them, but your feet began to stomp loudly, your whole body seemingly moving with a mind of its own. Everything around you seemed like it was spinning. You thought you could smell smoke and when your eyes began to water you werenât sure if it was because you were crying or if it was because there was actually smoke.Â
You vaguely heard a commotion and saw the door swing open, but everything around you continued to spin making you feel like throwing up. You couldnât throw up in your Auntieâs bedroom!
âBad! Bad! Bad!â
âBunny? Sweetie, whatâs going on?â
You could hear your Aunty Lessiâs voice and feel her presence, but the only word you could think was âBADâ.
âBad! Bad! Bad!â
The word kept falling from your lips and you continued to stomp and hit and scratch.
âOkay, Bun. Iâm going pick you up so you stop hurting yourself sweetie. I need to make you nice and safe, alright?â
Again, you heard your Aunty but all you could think was âBADâ.
âBad! Bad! Bad!â
Carefully you felt your Aunty wrap her arms around you, trapping your arms and lifting you off the ground. You struggled as your body fought to keep hitting and scratching and stomping, but she gently tugged your hands away from your neck and head, tucking them tightly against her chest.
âYouâre okay, lovely. Youâre safe, I promise. Itâs just you, me and Aunty Leah here okay. Nothing bad is going to happen alright? Weâre safe. Youâre safe. Everythingâs okayâŠâ
âBad. Bad. Bad.â
âWhat do you mean by bad, Bun?â Aunty Lessi asked.
You shook your head, unable to explain yourself. All you could say was âbad.â
âOh sweetie, you havenât done anything bad. Youâre not in any kind of trouble. I promise. And nothing bad is going to happen either, okay?â she whispered.
You began to slowly unclench in her arms, comforted by the soothing way she was swaying gently. Eventually you opened your eyes to see your Aunty Leah standing in the doorway watching on, her face red and blotchy as though sheâd been crying.
You immediately came back into your body, realising whatever youâd just done had upset your Aunty Leah. You tried to wriggle slightly to free yourself from your Aunty Lessiâs grip, but she tightened her hold.
âNot yet sweetie. I need to whatâs going on? What happened?â she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you in her lap.
âIâm sorry, Iâm so so sorry. I didnât mean to be bad and upset Aunty Leah. Iâm so sorry. I promise Iâll be good. I promise.â
âDarling, you didnât upset meâ your Aunty Leah assured you as she came over to sit next to Aunty Lessi on the bed.
âBut your face is blotchy like youâve been cryingâ you replied, your Aunty Lessi finally loosening her grip on her as your reached toward Aunty Leah.
âWell, itâs because I have been, but itâs not because you upset me. Iâm just worried about you is all. Why were you hurting yourself?â she asked, taking your hand in hers.
âI just had to. I donât know. I just did. I was bad.â You jumped off Aunty Lessiâs lap and started pacing on the floor in front of her and Aunty Leah.   âI woke up in this bed and I had no idea why I was in your bed and all I could think was âbadâ and I just did it without realising.â
âI washed your sheets and theyâre in the dryer. So, when you fell asleep on the loungeroom floor, I just put you in here for your nap. I didnât mean for it to upset you so much, sweetie,â Aunty Leah explained, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
âYou didnât upset me, I just I donât want you and Aunty Lessi and Lemonade to die too!â
You heard your Aunties gasp at your explanation, but you just kept pacing, trying to figure out a way to stop the inevitable from happening.
âBunny, oh my goodness, why would Aunty Leah and Lemonade and I die because you had a nap in our bed?â
âBecause thatâs what happened when I slept in Mummy and Daddyâs bed!â
You watched as your Aunties exchanged a series of looks. The seemed confused and shocked, which was confusing and shocking to you, because it all seemed so obvious.
âDarling, your Mummy and Daddy didnât die because you slept in their bed,â Aunty Leah tried to tell you.
âYes, they did! They did. They DID! I know they did! Itâs the only thing different I did that night from all the other nights. I had done so so good all summer getting into my big girl routine and kept it up really well for the first couple of weeks of school. But then⊠then I slipped up, and I was bad and I asked to sleep in bed with Mummy and Daddy that night. And and th- the fire happened. And if I had of been in my own room, I could have got myself out. Because weâd practiced. Daddy made sure we practiced. And and and then⊠then Da-Daddy wouldnât have needed to get me out and he could have helped Mummy because of her leg. And they could have got out too. But I was bad. I slept in a bed that wasnât mine. When I should have just slept in my own bed, like a good girl. Like a big girl. And now theyâre dead. Theyâre both dead. And itâs my fault. And now what if you die too!?â
#woso fanfics#leah williamson x reader#alessia russo x reader#woso fanfic#woso imagine#arsenal x reader#leah williamson x alessia russo x reader#woso fic#woso x reader#alessia russo#leah williamson#lemonade#child reader
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Getting deep into the x men fandom means seeing ships I don't agree with, so I don't interact, seeing posts that mischaraterizes one of the deepest charaters possible, so I don't interact, Seeing people actively say things that are blatantly wrong, so I don't interact.
Getting a large following is also kind of frustrating (Im not complaining I love you guys!) But I've had to block 2 people already today because they keep leaving rude replies to my comments on OTHER peoples posts or purposly come to my blog to tell me that how I view a charater is wrong. Had someone tell me that the stuff that happens in MY au is dumb because "that would never happen" like yeah bud. The writers at Marvel are too much of cowards for it to happen, hence why i'm here.
So my thing is... if im chosing not to interact with all of this- why is it still on my feed?
I feel like the more I ignore it the more I see and I do not wish to be the type to block someone simply because they make one post about a ship that personally isn't my cup of tea.
Also- I think Im starting to see the different sides of extremes, especially when it comes to one specifc charater.
Logan.
I have seen dozens of lovely stories, lovely rants, lovely head canons about this man-
But something that feels weird (to me at least) is people who are 45+ yelling at people who aren't even 18 that their story/headcanons are trash because they've "been enjoying Logan for 40+ years" as if this gives them any right to tell a 17 year old that they shouldnt write a charater how they see them.
It's also weird to me that there seems to be two sides.
Logan IS an animal and that's perfectly okay.
Or
Logan ISN'T an animal, and everyone who headcanons him as animalistic is fetishizing his mutation and are insulting him.
I get not liking a certain trope, but sir, that person is young enough to be your child. You have to accept that we all grew up with different versions of each charater. I Personally didn't grow up with any and get the luxury of indulging in all sorts of media all at once- therefore getting to see him from multiple sides and pictures.
I completely understand if you grew up with the original series and are upset to see that kids are headcanoning your stone cold angst biker man as wearing bow clips and 'making biscuits' on a pillow while watching gilmore girl with his boyfriend, and wearing pink fluffy hello kitty pants and a tight shirt that says "Milk"
I completely understand if you grew up with the movies and see him as a sexy gruff hot buff man and you love to write lots and lots of steamy x reader about him.
I completely understand if you LIKE logan wearing hello kitty pants and don't agree with the idea of him being a dark edgelord, lone wolf charater.
Do you know what I don't understand? Fighting over a charater when different timelines have been canon since the 80s. The Time Variance Authority (TVA) first appeared in Thor #372 (October 1986) which means ALL of your logans are the correct logan. Just not all the same.
Do I think Wolverine Orgins Logan would wear pink hello kitty pants? Nah.
Do I know that Deadpool and wolverine Logan is a whole different universe then Orgins Logan? Yes.
That's why people tag different logans and different aus. So what is all the fuss about?? What happened to the more the merrier?
Theres so many different versions of comic book logan, too, so don't even go there.
Feel free to ask my personal opinions but as far as I stand I could never be foolish enough to seriously go into someone elses post and genuinely be upset at them for how they perceive a charater. I get second hand embaressment when ever I see ANYONE doing it.
Thanks for coming to my ted talk. I don't care if I lose followers for this. Let the door hit you on the way out. There aint no reason to be harrassing folks.
#certified long ahh post#and yes#I dont care if you're a minor if youre on the internet you have the responsibility to understand social etiquette enough not to pull some bs#you only get to be an ass if you are the creator theirself of said character. periodt.#deadpool and wolverine#x men#x-men#x men orgins#x men origins: wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine#thanks for coming to my ted talk#poolverine#deadclaws#fandom behaviour#social etiquette#dont be a prick#click off or scroll#it aint hard#wolverine x men#x men wolverine#weapon x#feral logan#worst wolverine#logan james howlett
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Youâre CuteâŠYet Irritating [s.r]
Post prison!Spencer Reid x sunshine!fem!reader
Summary: Sheâs always humming a tune, dancing, or tapping her fingers. And Spencer canât stand it.
Warnings: Angst with happy ending, irritated Spencer, crying, self doubt, rude comments, self hatred, etc.
Note: I always fidget and I thought this would be cute! Let me know what yâall think!!
Sorry for any errors! I didnât re-read it! :)
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
2,745 times
And yes, he was unfortunately counting.
He bet she didnât even know she was doing it, the repetitive rhythm of her finger nails on the desk. Files piled it, almost all the time, and Spencer always had to walk by with his fist in his mouth to prevent himself from organizing it the way he liked.
He was going to be honest, he kind of missed having that feeling, the urge to clean or organize. It told him, in a way, that his old self was still with him, and that little thing gave him hope that he so tightly held onto.
But his old self was able to focus. His old self was able to dig himself into file folders and never be able to leave, yet the tapping.
Spencer couldnât take it.
His eye twitched every time she breathed particularly loud, his lips pursed when her foot started tapping on the floor, and, worst of all, his head shuttered when her dang finger nails tapped on the deskâs top.
He hated the noise.
And it surprised him that he did, it was such a little thing that was apparently going unnoticed by everyone else. But he just couldnât focus on his work with the practical racket that was doing on next to him.
He wasnât gonna lie, he almost got up just then to go ask Hotch for a desk rearrangement. But he knew that his boss would suspect something and either tease him about it or shake his head about how ridiculous it was.
Spencer agreed as well. He couldnât change seats just because the woman next to him was tapping her fingers.
Gosh, even thinking it sounded absurd.
But he couldnât help but imagine silence.
Silence while his brain could process things.
Spencer couldâve lost it when she started humming a soft tune. She seemed to have a new one in her head every day, each time she sat down, tea in hand, she hummed a different song than yesterday.
He couldnât quite pin point which one it was, but he didnât dare to continue thinking to figure it out.
His head turned toward her, hoping sheâd notice his glare but she didnât, sheâs still stuck on the file she was looking at.
âQuit that, will ya?â
Her head snapped up at the sudden outburst, surprise reflecting in her eyes yet he spotted confusion.
How was she confused to the constant annoying tapping she was doing? And the humming? Spencer was slowly loosing his mind.
He took a deep breath to prevent from lashing out, his hand coming out and wiggling his fingers toward hers.
âT-the tapping, itâs irritating. Quit it please.â
Her face dropped from surprised to hurt, and Spencer somehow hated that it was quiet as soon as he said something.
âRight. Sorry,â she whispered so softly Spencer almost couldnât hear her. She tried to add a little chuckle at the end of her murmur, yet her voice cracked against her own accord.
He watched her fingers stop, instead clenching them in a fist tightly.
Spencer shouldâve been glad that the silence he so wanted was granted, but something unsettling brewed in his chest at her facial expression, her now glossy eyes staring at her computer screen. He also noticed her other hand that wasnât holding the folder was digging into her thigh to prevent it from bouncing out of anxiety.
He didnât know the feeling, regret, maybe, but all Spencer knew was that he wished he hadnât said those words.
But he didnât want to say sorry, something inside him prevented him from doing it. Maybe he was selfish because he ignored the regret in him and took the opportunity to have the ability to focus once more.
âI canât help, falling in love with you,â she hummed softly, just under her breath as she stirred her favorite tea in the mug the next morning.
Spencer had to admit, he missed her singing in the morning. It reminded him that through all the terrible cases theyâve experienced, there was still happiness in the world, still hope, and she clearly found it through music.
But the pounding headache that didnât go away that day prevented him from being kind.
So he couldnât dare to show his wishes of her singing more often, heck no. And the more he thought about it the more irritating it became. He became hyper focused on the breath before each sentence she sang, the cinnamon toothpaste blaring his nose. She was also slightly off pitch every couple seconds, and she sang a couple words wrong.
It got worse when she took forever to mix her tea, blocking his path towards the coffee machine.
He huffed, ignoring the way she flinched. âMove, will ya? Thereâs people who actually want to do their job and not sing songs about sunshine and rainbows; just please let me get some coffee.â
Her once upwards lips turned down, the light in her eyes going out. She cleared her throat. âRight, s-sorry.â
Spencer couldnât help it. The comment spat out before he could control it. âS-sorry,â he mimicked. âYou do know confidence is a key to this job, right? Quit the childish stuttering itâs infuriating.â
He didnât see her reaction, but if he did he would see glossy eyes and a facial expression that represented a shattered heart.
She raced out of the room, tea discarded on the counter and beelined towards the bathrooms. She quickly fumbled with the lock. It echoed throughout the bathroom, somehow making her emotions worsen. The tears went full force, a sob covered by her hands surrounding her.
His words kept repeating themselves in her head, telling her that she wasnât good enough for the job.
Why even apply? He was clearly smarter than her and took things more seriously. What was she thinking? Coming into a field like this and humming and singing all the time? Who does that?
She could feel her makeup smearing, and her black fingers rubbing her cheeks confirmed her suspicions.
She never knew Spencerâs problem with her. Every moment she recalled every encounter, hoping not to come across a moment where she offended him. And she never did.
But now she knew. It was her humming, her tapping, her singing, her stuttering.
She wasnât good enough to be here.
The thought made her cry harder, the type of sob where your breath catches in your throat, your vision blurry as your chest aches.
A soft knock on the stall door made her both flinch hardly and gasp at the same time.
A throat was cleared, an awkward moment of silence shoving its way between them.
âCan I come in?â
The voice on the other side wasnât one she expected. Her heart started going on its own path, thumping quickly within her chest.
Her hand moved on its own accord, though hesitantly, and opened the lock.
Spencerâs hand came into view, opening the door and entering himself, closing and locking the door behind him.
Something about him being so close, the door locked, and them being in a place just for one person made her already beating heart pound harder.
His features, no doubt, were beautiful. His nose was like a button, eyes like chocolate in fresh cookies, lips soft and full like a blooming flower.
His hair, oh his hair. It was like a soft blanket she wanted to nestle her fingers onto, pulling at the roots until he let out a satisfying noise-
No.
He hurt her. The words he said. She was upset. He doesnât like her.
Then why was he having such an effect on her?
Him clearing his throat once more caught her out of her thoughts, eyes meeting his.
âI wanted to say sorry. For what I said,â he whispered, and she noticed his fingers playing with each other. âIt wasnât nice nor professional. And I donât mean any of it.â
His apology was simple and sincere, eyes somehow widening while gazing at her. (Or were his eyes always like that? Full and desperate?)
âAnd in case you were wondering, youâre lovely at your job,â he sounded like he was rambling again, but he also seemed desperate to get the words out. âYour singing brings happiness to the place. Youâre more than good enough to be here. And Iâm sorry I made you doubt your amazing abilities.â
She felt a soft smile come to her lips, cheeks reddening at his complements. She wiped her nose. âReally?â
He nodded, leaning down and grabbing some toilet paper to wipe her cheeks.
Instead of simply giving it to her, he wiped them himself, wiping the damage he did to her away on his own. âI mean it with my whole heart.â
Her heart warmed.
âThank you Spencer,â she whispered shyly.
He gave her a toothless smile, opening his arms for a hug from her.
Her heart pounded, knowing he barely let anyone touch him, but stepped towards him nonetheless.
Her arms went underneath his blazer, on top of his dress shirt (causing him to shiver) and laying her head on his chest.
He embraced her back, far too tall to be over her shoulder so he rested his chin on her head, shampoo filling his nose.
They stayed like that for a couple moments before pulling back to look at each other.
His eyes met hers, emotions swirling around, like they were trying to tell him something.
If it was a warning or an invitation Spencer didnât know, but he leaned forward to find out, nose brushing hers.
Her lips parted, causing his eyes to shoot downward at the movement.
He gave her a moment to push away, to shove him out of the stall for even thinking she had any interest on him.
The rejection never came.
He finally planted his mouth on hers, her hands shooting to his hair to pull at his roots, a small groan leaving his lips.
His lips tasted like coffee and something truly Spencer.
Whatever it was pulled her in more, craving the taste of his mouth.
They finally pulled away, breath fanning each otherâs faces. She was the one who laughed first against his lips, and he copied her before kissing her once again.
Sure, she was irritating at times, but she was cute, heâd give her that.
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagines#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagines#angst with a happy ending#spencer reid x fem!reader#Spencer x reader#post prison reid#x reader#criminal minds characters x reader
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So, it turns out what I needed to get out of my writer's block was soul-wrenching grief and heart-crushing disappointment. And while I am happy about that (to an extent), I also wish my muse wasn't angst because I think I am hurting myself writing this fic and I need to now make it everyone else's problem.
Sitting there in the dark, on Eddieâs sofa, curled in on himself like itâs supposed to do anything to hold him together, one thought pops into his head, bright, neon red and in bold among the constant litany of boorish, black âThis is all my faultâ â All of this is because I didnât know what a Kinsey six is. The thought is unexpected enough that Buck unfurls a little, wondering where it came from and then he remembers their anniversary date. The memory leaves him breathless but he is curious enough to push past the newly burgeoning hurt and take out his phone. A quick Google reveals it to be the rating for âexclusively homosexualâ on the Kinsey scale so he looks that up next and as heâs debating whether to start from Wikipedia first or dive right into the Kinsey Institute website, his eyes land on the conspicuous âtest onlineâ button right below the search bar. A part of him doesnât want to find out, doesnât want anyone else telling him what he is but the taunt is too much. If you had known, if you had just taken a moment to figure yourself out, maybe you could have said something. Maybe you could have stopped him before he walked away. He clicks on the first test that pops up, looks at the first question, goes to select option 1 and then stops and stares. âTo whom are you attracted?â should be an easy question to answer but the confidence to not think much has left him. He could easily choose âBoth men and womenâ but would that even be correct? Heâs been so sure that he has felt attraction towards men a few times in the past but what if that was a mild interest at best? After all, no one had really pinged his radar the way Tommy had. He looks at the next question and thatâs when the panic really starts to set in because he doesnât know. He doesnât know if he prefers men over women or if he just prefers Tommy over women, over everyone else. What if Tommy is the outlier and he prefers women over men after all? The pressure in his chest becomes more and more painful the longer he stares at it so he closes the test and opens the next one on the list. That one starts off mild. The way the first question is framed makes it easy to answer that yes, while he mostly notices women, the occasional man does turn his eyes. The next one asks what he would be comfortable in calling himself and he thinks he could get away with calling himself bisexual but then thereâs an option saying âcould be bisexual but not sure if thatâs correctâ. And again the thought hits, What if itâs just Tommy? He debates it briefly and then gives in and chooses the latter option. He breezes through the next couple of questions because he is at least sure that he would find it desirable to kiss people from both genders but then they hit him with the sexual preference question again. He backs out so fast his phone nearly slips out of his hand and with a sigh of frustration, he clicks on the next test. That turns out worse because the very first question stalls him and so it continues again and again and again until tears start prickling at the corner of his eyes and his breath starts coming in sharp, short bursts pulling his throat tight but not taking any air to his lungs. He keeps at it until thereâs one more nameless person behind one more useless test clamouring at him, Tell us, tell us, tell us. Tell us you know what you want. He hurls the phone across the room, thankful when instead of landing on the floor, it silently hits the backrest of Eddieâs armchair and slides down into the crease with a swoosh. He should get up and retrieve it, he should go home really but what he does instead is let his head fall forward onto his raised knees and give in to the caricatured voice of his mind telling him, Of course, he thought you would break his heart. Look at yourself, you idiot.
This is basically just the set-up for the fic but rest assured I am dragging Buck down to the trenches before I let him swim up to Tommy again.
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Well. Turns out she didnât win.
I was talking to my mom on the phone this morning after my shift, and she was like, âseriously, how are YOU doing,â and I thought about this patient I worked with last night. Not even my patient, I was just answering his bed alarm while his nurse was dealing with a situation she couldnât leave. I go to the room, and this guy is trying to get out of bed by crawling over the railings. Heâs delirious, heâs confused, heâs super hard to understand, and heâs got that look you get when youâve been very sick for a long time in a really specific way. Basically the kind of patient where you walk in the room and know that on top of whatever else brought them to the hospital, theyâre also withdrawing from meth or fentanyl or both. And he super was, oh my god, this guy was withdrawing hard.
So me and a CNA, god bless her, we get him up to the bathroom like heâs trying to do and then we get him back to bed. He climbs in the wrong way, his head is pressed against the foot of the bed, heâs saying over and over that he wants something to drink, and I say to him, âwhile the CNA is getting you that drink, can I sit you up and get you more comfortable? Is that okay?â
And he shouts in my face, âNO, ITâS NOT FUCKING OKAY,â with this look of pure anger. Itâs genuinely frightening to be stared down by someone and to know that if something goes wrong, theyâre gonna try to hurt you. And Iâm like âokay cool,â and I step back because heâs a spooked horse ready to kick. The CNA gets that drink, and while she helps him with that, I get him his scheduled meds that will help his withdrawal. When I come back, the patient is back in bed properly, tucked in comfortable, as the CNA holds a carton of milk so he can drink it through a straw.
That patient stayed agitated for the whole time I worked with him, but he never got violent. And he never looked at me again that way he had. He stayed pissed, but we got him to be pissed at the situation, not us, and then we worked to fix the situation.
I think about all the ways that could have gone. Stuff like that happens all the time where the margin between violent and not violent is so thin, and so determined by the smallest things. Thereâs a very plausible world where I got punched or the CNA got kicked and then the patient got drugged or restrained, and everyone in the situation is worse off than theyâd been before. Thereâs a very plausible world where he didnât get the care he needed because I was scared of him. That didnât happen. Iâm not saying we absolutely crushed it, he definitely was still in a bad way by the time I had to leave, but no one got hurt and he got his medicine and his nurse got to finish dealing with her completely unrelated emergency before she had to come deal with this potential new one.
Thatâs what I thought about when Mom asked me how I was doing, and I thought this Terry Pratchett quote that had been bouncing around my head all night: âYou do the job thatâs in front of you.â So thatâs how Iâm doing. Whatever all that means, thatâs how Iâm doing.
I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things arenât going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when itâs happy. Maybe Iâll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But Iâm thinking about the way Iâm thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.
In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasnât even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations Iâd had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didnât supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. Thatâs a real job you can do for almost five years. I didnât have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.
Those days werenât bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.
On 2016âs Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night beforeânot just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope Iâd had in human nature because now I didnât feel it anymore. Itâs almost silly when I think about itâso many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didnât think I was naive to thatâbut something clicked into place that morning.
It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, Iâd tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. Iâd written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: âGood is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.â
I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldnât be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didnât work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.
That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.
It doesnât feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if thatâs the grade it actually deserved. We hadnât been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Graceâs murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.
Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasnât interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.
I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trumpâs election in 2016 felt like that.
After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldnât kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, âwhat if I got into politics.â Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trumpâs inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.
Now itâs election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, thereâs Palestine. Meanwhile thereâs Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.
I donât think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in Novemberâ how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.
I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I donât know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naĂŻvetĂ© to the worldânot to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. Itâs not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynicâs pleasant surprise.
Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a personâs life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.
Iâm lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what Iâll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimistâs optimism: to a degree the election doesnât matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.
But please god please, why canât it be just a little easier to do it?
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