#I'm an old white woman at heart so this time of year makes me extra sappy

[artificial-horizon]

I saw the tags on the post you reblogged from me about getting older with trauma and healing and how nice that sounds. And my heart just felt so full for you. I just wanted you to know that I hope all of that for you. I'm still very much in the middle of my healing journey but I remember being 24 and earlier on that journey. I imagine it all feels so far away. I wish for you the sort of healing I've been getting where my brain feels like a completely different place, it is indescribably different. I hope healing makes your inside and outside life easier every year. Wishing you a warm and happy life.

Hope you don't mind me answering publicly, but aaaaaa what a beautiful message to wake up to, thank you so much 💖 I really appreciate your words, they're so kind and hopeful and reassuring. I'm so glad you've been able to start (and continue) healing, and that it's made your brain an easier place to be - I can only imagine how that feels after a lifetime of being Not Okay! I hope one day you'll get to the point where you feel healed, whether completely or just enough for you to be content (as I can't presume the magnitude of what you're healing from ofc). It's wonderful that you've been able to get yourself the life you wanted and deserve to live after everything, and I hope it continues to be happy and enjoyable and full of love :)

I'm at a place in life rn that feels like flying in a holding pattern, and I often slip into thinking that I'll be trapped here forever, but I have to believe that things will change - I have to imagine a future so I can fight for it! The thought that I might be older one day and in a much better place seems unbelievable, but posts like that are important reminders that it's possible, and it's possible for *me*! It's just all very slow right now, waiting for things to arrange themselves so I can move on to the next stage of my life. If HRT was my second puberty physically, this feels like my second puberty emotionally; I feel myself maturing with each wave of growing pains, lol, and I just have to wait it out. Thank you for reassuring me that I'm still in the early days rn, and 24 is still young for people like us whose childhoods/teen years were taken up by... Other Things.

Just... yeah I rly appreciate this, taking the time to write such a warm kind message! Wish you all the best and have a great holiday(s) whatever you may be doing! ♥️

[houseofanticipation]

You wake because a shifting balance of weight on your bed has caused your mattress to shake. For a moment you think it must be Christmas morning—that'll be your little brother, jumping on your bed to wake you up—but your room is still dark, and the clock on your bedside table reads 12:00 exactly. You squint at the person sitting on your bed. Definitely too old to be your brother...maybe your dad? But no, this person's frame is too wide, too bulky. The figure leans forward, and it suddenly occurs to you to be afraid, but all he does is pull the chain on your bedside lamp.

The man in your room is Santa Claus.

It doesn't occur to you to think this is a man dressed as Santa. One of your classmates might; you know most people your age don't believe in him, and you've learned to hide your own belief, lest you embarrass yourself, but you've never stopped believing privately. You know this man is Santa Claus in the same way you've always known Santa Claus was real: it's a feeling in your heart, a knowledge that you are loved, no matter what. You get that same feeling from this man.

"Santa?"

"Little Susie Summers," he says, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes. "It's so wonderful to finally see you in person. You know you're one of my favorites?"

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

He nods. "I mean it. You've kept me in your heart all these years, long after most children abandon me. I've so loved watching you grow into this beautiful, confident woman I see before me." His voice deep and warm and smooth, like hot chocolate. His eyes glitter behind half-moon glasses, and his enormous white mustache only accentuates his fatherly smile.

"I always knew you were real," you say, breathlessly, eager to impress. "Even when everyone called me names, I kept believing. I always stayed on my best behavior for you."

"I know you did," he says. "I have your list right here." Seemingly from nowhere, he produces a length of rolled up parchment, which he begins to unfurl as he reads. "All those times you helped young Cristopher with his homework, even when you wanted to go out with your friends...the way you check in on old Mrs. Rasherton every week...you're a real paragon of your community."

Your chest swells with pride. You'd do those things anyway, of course; goodness is its own reward. But it feels so wonderful to have your good deeds recognized by this man you so idolize.

"Of course, you've had some encounters with the naughty list, too. What child doesn't? That time at camp, for instance, when you allowed Trent Lipski to touch you under your underwear?"

You can feel your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, Santa. I tried to be extra good to make up for it."

"Or those times in the bathtub, when you put your private parts under the faucet?"

You look away. You can't stand the disappointment in his eyes. "I'm so sorry Santa."

You feel his hand on your cheek, gently pulling your gaze back to meet his. "Don't worry, Susie. No one can be perfectly good all the time, and your good deeds have vastly outweighed the bad. You are a good girl, Susie Summers, and that's why I'm here."

"Really?"

"Yes, my dear girl. You see, you're eighteen now and—"

"Almost eighteen," you say helpfully. Your birthday is January 7th.

"Close enough," he says. "You're growing into a woman, which means this is the last year I'll be able to bring you presents."

This comes as a surprise. You always known Santa Claus brought presents to children, but it never quite occurred to you that that meant he didn't bring presents to adults. "You mean...you'll never come here for me again?"

"I'm afraid so," he says sadly. "This will have to be goodbye. But because you've been such a good girl all these years, I've brought you one final parting gift, in addition to the ones below the tree downstairs."

"Really? What is it?"

His hand is on your thigh, caressing you gently. "You've been so good for me, Susie," he says. "I want to make you feel good. I want you to be extra good for me, one last time." His other hand is on your stomach now, furry white glove slipping under your sleep shirt. You're starting to be unsure if you want this gift, but you know it's rude to act ungrateful. "Can you be good for me, Susie?"

You nod nervously.

Slowly, one finger at a time, Santa slips the gloves off his hands. The skin underneath is like aged leather, wrinkly and soft. You gasp when he lifts up your shirt. "Look at this," he says, fondling your nipples. "Already so hard. I knew you had a naughty side to you."

No. You can't. You push his hands away, gently as you can. "I'm sorry Santa, I'm flattered, really, but I can't—"

Santa makes a clicking sound with his tongue, and all of a sudden your hands are being yanked back, toward the headboard. Some kind of cuffs clamp around your wrists, holding your arms far away from Santa's creeping, explorative hands. You look to your left and right, and see that they're not cuffs at all, but arms; thin, sinewy arms attached to a pair of thin, sinewy people no bigger than your forearm. They stare at you with large, unblinking eyes, and grin with mouths full of pointy teeth. They're strong, in spite of their size. You struggle against them with all your might, but neither seems remotely phased.

"You're a lucky girl, Susie," he says, playfully circling your areola with his thumb. "Most boys and girls never get to see a genuine Christmas elf. Meet Pepper and Ginger, two of my most trusted lieutenants. I could never do my job without their help."

The elf called Ginger—you can tell which is which because they wear name tags reading G. BREAD and P. MINT—pins your hand to the bed and sits on your wrist. She closes her eyes and begins grinding against the nub of your wrist bone.

Santa chuckles. "Of course, I make sure they get to enjoy themselves. I think that's the hallmark of any good boss, don't you?" He bends down and wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking and nibbling and groping at your other breast while he does it. You're afraid, but it feels kind of good, too. And you know Santa has your best interests at heart...doesn't he? When he comes up for air, Santa sees the tears running down your cheeks. "Oh, hush now, my dear, don't cry." He lays a tender hand on your face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "I promise I'll be gentle with you. I'll make you feel good." He gets up on his knees and unbuckles his belt, pulling down his red pants to reveal white thermal underwear. This he unbuttons, and out comes...

You've seen a penis once before. Earlier this year, Daryl Dennis let you touch his at a party. You held it in your hand and stroked it up and down, delighting in the way he moaned and kissed you and told you how good it felt. When he came on your hand it snapped you out of whatever madness had taken you over, and you fled the room to wash it off. You hated yourself for weeks after that, tried to work extra hard to earn your place on the good list.

Suffice it to say, Santa's cock is about three times the size as the only other cock you've ever seen. It stands up so stiff that it actually touches his overhanging belly, and defined veins pulse up and down its length. He smiles when he sees you looking at it. "You came so close to letting Mr. Dennis be the first cock you ever felt inside you. I wish you could stay pure forever, but you're becoming a woman now. You should at least know what a real cock is like, so you have something to compare against."

He hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls off your pajama bottoms and you panties all in one go. You're too afraid to fight back; those elves' teeth are sharp, and besides, you've spent so long trying to stay off the naughty list. A good girl would lie back and take it. You are a good girl. You are a good girl.

Santa's head is between your legs now. He's kissing your thighs, sniffing deeply, running his tongue along the outside edges of your crotch. One hand strokes his cock, and you can see he speeds up when his nose gets close to your pussy. "You know, Susie, I've found in all my years of life that the sweetest girls have the sweetest cunts. Did you know that?"

You shake your head.

"It's true. And you just might be the sweetest girl I've ever seen. So you can imagine how eager I've been to get a taste of this perfect, beautiful cunt. Let's get your juices flowing, shall we?" You gasp as his leathery fingers pinch the hood of your clitoris and pull it back, and a sound you didn't expect escapes your lips when his wet, warm tongue flicks across your exposed clit. He starts to trace slow, steady circles around it, taking his time, letting the desire build until your clit is throbbing with need. His moustache tickles your pubis as he closes his lips around your clit and begins sucking, first in long, slow pulls, and ramping up into quick, agonizing pulses. You begin to feel that feeling in your groin, the one you felt when you touched Daryl Dennis's cock, or when Trent Lipski put his hand in your pants, or when you hold your privates under the bathtub faucet. It's a tightness, a warmth, a wetness, and Santa must notice it too, because he smiles up at you. "Good girl. Let's find out what you taste like."

Suddenly his tongue is inside you, and you're moaning and arching your back and crying a little bit, because you're so scared but it feels so good. The elves grin and give you little kisses on your arms. Somewhere along the way Ginger has removed her pants, and she moans as her little elf pussy glides across your wrist. On the other side, Pepper's hands are on your pinky, lining it up with her exposed cunt, drooling as she pushes it inside.

When Santa comes up for air his glasses hang crooked on his face. "Hoooh, Susie, you must have the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted. Like caramel apples and candy canes. You really are one of the nicest girls who's ever lived."

You can't help but swell with pride at this praise. You've tried, really tried, and to know that it's paid off...it makes everything worth it. All the work, all the self-sacrifice, it wasn't for nothing. It's left a real, detectable mark on your body, and Santa can taste it in you. "Thank you, Santa," you manage to say.

"You're very welcome, Susie," says Santa. "And now that you're ready for me, I think it's time I made use of you." He straightens up, and flops his cock down on your stomach. It feels even bigger against your skin. You're afraid again. You know what's about to happen, and you're afraid it's going to hurt.

He throws his head back and moans with pleasure as the head of his cock parts your pussy lips. Your teeth grit and your heart pounds as you brace yourself for the pain, but it doesn't come. When he begins to push inside you, it's like he's stretching you out from the inside. There's no pain, only pressure, and increasingly, pleasure. He fills you up an inch at a time, expanding inside you, making you feel full in a way you never knew you could. You never should have doubted Santa. He knows what's best for you. He knows what you need.

"Ooohoho god, Susie," he says, picking up the pace now. "I knew you'd be worth it. I always know which good little girls will have the most delectable cunts. Girls like you, natural whores who make the choice to be nice, deny their nature to be sweet just for me...saving yourself for me...you know, somewhere deep down, that your little cunt is mine for the taking..."

He's right. He's completely right. When you fled the room after Daryl Dennis came in your hand. When you felt so guilty after Trent Lipski. What were you saying, implicitly? My holes are not for him. My holes are for Santa. You're moaning indiscriminately now, arching your back, your eyes rolling back in your head. The elves seem to be enjoying themselves, too; they moan squeakily as they ride your hands, apparently no longer worried about you trying to fight back. Santa's belly rolls across you with each thrust, and the heft of it is like a weighted blanket, comfortingly immobilizing. He grunts and moans with each thrust, the ball on his hat bouncing haphazardly. You feel something growing inside you, something wonderful and intense, something far better than the faucet on your clit, or Trent Lipski's fingers in your cunt. Your body is beginning to tremble, your legs bending and your toes flexing involuntarily. Suddenly you're afraid again; the sensation is too much, you can't handle it, you need to get away. Some animal part of your brain takes over; you're wrenching your hands free of the distracted elves, pulling yourself away from Santa's relentless cock, flailing your legs, kicking Santa in the solar plexus as he tries to grab at you. He doubles over, wheezing, and you know instantly you've done something terrible.

For a long moment the room is stock still. The elves seem just as frozen in fear as you are. Santa coughs, steadies himself against the bed. When he looks up, there's a darkness behind his eyes that wasn't there before. He clicks his tongue again, and the elves spring into action, grabbing you by the hair and turning you around so that your head hangs backward over the edge of the bed.

"I was going to give you a special present," says Santa, upside-down over you. There's a sick mirth in his voice that makes you shiver. "A Christmas present like no one's ever gotten before. But you had to go and be naughty." He says the word like it's the most vulgar epithet he can think of. "I was going to give you a son. My son. My heir. But my seed can't grow in a womb despoiled by filth." You feel a pressure inside you; it feels sort of like Santa's cock did, only harder, rounder, and growing. You lift your head to see what's going on down there, but it's all internal. It's getting painful now; you start straining to push it out. "The only thing your cunt is good for now," says Santa, a merciless twinkle in his eye, "is coal."

With a painful stretching sensation, a black mass crowns out of your cunt, spreading your pussy lips and stretching them wide as it pops out of you. It's a smooth, roughly spherical lump of coal, about the size of a baseball.

A leathery hand cups your chin and pushes your head back down. Santa's cock is inches from your face. "You're not going cocktease me, naughty girl. I'll get mine, one way or another."

Tears well up in your eyes as his cock parts your lips. You've never gotten coal in your stocking before, not once. You've spent your entire life being the nicest you could possibly be, and you had to go and ruin everything. You imagine what it would have been like to have Santa's seed growing inside you, your belly swelling with his son, your breasts inflating with peppermint-flavored milk. Instead you have his wrinkly, low-hanging scrotum slapping your face, and another lump of coal already forming inside your stupid, naughty cunt.

Santa forces his cock past your tongue, down your open throat. You gag, convulse involuntarily, but the elves hold you down, not to be caught slacking again. His belly drags across your face as he pulls back, and you spend a few seconds coughing and sputtering before he forces himself back down your throat again. Again, you gag, and when he pulls out this time you spit out a globule of thick saliva that collects around your nose and runs down your cheek. It goes like this for several more pumps: you gagging, struggling, crying, and him continuing to rape your throat anyway.

No, you think. Enough crying. You did something naughty, and now you pay for it. What do you always do when you catch yourself slipping into naughtiness? You're extra good to make up for it.

You steady yourself. Relax your throat. Santa is your king. Your god. Your everything. Your whole life, everything you do has been to please Santa. Now is no different. You start licking his shaft as it pounds away at your mouth. You can't see his face past his belly, but you can tell he likes it: the veins on his cock bulge under your tongue, and he groans with pleasure. Slowly, making sure the elves know you're not trying to fight, you lift your arms and grab the backs of his thighs, pulling him into you with each thrust. He takes the encouragement, picking up speed and enthusiasm. With one hand you begin to tenderly massage his balls, and with the other you stroke the base of his cock, the part that can't fit all the way down your throat. This is right. This is correct. My holes are for Santa, you think again. It's not for you to choose how he uses them.

You pop out another two lumps of coal, though you find that if you don't let them get too big it can be a somewhat pleasurable experience. You wonder how many nice things you'll have to do to stop them coming. You hope it isn't too easy. You moan as another one presses against your clit on its way out of you. You're desperate to rub yourself, but you can't take any attention away from Santa's beautiful, enormous, swollen, throbbing cock. That is your purpose.

With a long, shuddering groan, Santa presses his cock as deep as it will go. You feel hot cum shooting down your throat, collecting in your esophagus. He holds you there for a long time, your face in his overhanging belly, coal growing in your cunt. When he finally retreats you cough a huge glob of cum into your mouth. It tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg.

"Oh, little Susie," says Santa admiringly. "Even when you're being punished, you try your best to be nice." He sits next to you on the bed and begins gently massaging your throat. "It isn't enough to put you back on the nice list, but it's a start." He seems to think long and hard about something. "I'm a believer in second chances, Susie. I'll have to come back to this house next year for your brother anyway. Maybe I'll check in on you, and if you've been extra good..." he shoots you a twinkling wink. "I just might give you your special present after all."

Your head falls back in relief. You haven't squandered your chance! Santa is a merciful and loving god! The elves lay their heads on your breasts, petting your skin and cooing approvingly. The next thing you know, Santa is pulling up his pants, tucking in his undershirt, buckling his belt. He puts his hand on the knob of your bedroom door, but he turns back over his shoulder before he goes.

"Susie...you were right. Your holes are mine. No other cock, nor finger or tongue or any part of another person may penetrate them. But now that you're a woman...I believe it would be alright if you touched yourself, if you like. And know that I'll be watching." With that he's out the door, Pepper and Ginger in tow.

You get into a comfortable position in bed, head on your pillows, legs spread. You're slowly amassing a small pile of coal on your bedspread, and you're ready to go for another. You let this one grow a little while inside you, expanding until you can't take it anymore, then arch your back and close your eyes and furiously rub your clit as you birth it.

As a ball of coal the size of a small cantaloupe rolls to a stop on your sheets, your bedside clock clicks over to 12:01.

[danosrosegarden]

Haiiiii!! I’m happy you got requests open again! I’ve been loving the angel Eddie series! Eli my beloved would you be willing to do something cute and fluffy about taking Eddie on a date. I don’t think he’s ever been to a zoo or an aquarium and I love those places. So tl:dr Eddie and Reader going on a date to the zoo and them just being excited and happy to show him something innocent and fun

Some Sweet Day - Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

Contains: minor descriptions of anxiety, but mostly fluff!

Note: thank you for the request, Savvy! Eddie deserves some fun fluff, doesn't he? :-)

Maybe it was a mistake, bringing him here. His cheeks were dusted with an anxious crimson, and his grassy eyes darted around as groups of people walked by. Their mindless chatter was bouncing around his brain in a cymbal crash crescendo, you were sure of it by the way he grabbed onto your hand and held tight.

"It'll be fun!" you'd told Edward as you handed him his ticket into the zoo. But now, you were wondering if this really was a good idea at all. You were determined to make the broken child inside of his soul smile today.

You started in the jungle. The ground was slicked with murky mist. The lush green trees appeared empty at first, until a monkey with fiery locks of orange fur swung from an obscured pocket of bushy leaves.

"Look, Eddie, he's showing off for us," you laughed as the monkey tumbled from branch to branch.

Edward offered you a small smile and nodded. "Silly," he mumbled.

The caves chirped with brown bats and smelled of old water. Edward held tight onto your hand as you stumbled through the darkness and listened to the bats flap about.

"I think bats are cute," you whispered to him.

"Me too, honey."

You were most excited for the aquarium. Edward noticed where you were leading him as you made your way down a flight of stairs.

"We're going to the aquarium?" he asked softly.

"We sure are." You grinned. "Why? Did you want to go somewhere else?"

"No," he answered. "You just seem extra excited."

You smiled brightly at him and squeezed his clammy hand. "The jellyfish are my favorite."

The longer you looked at the fish, the more amazed with nature you became. The streaks of popping color dancing around their smooth skin flowed so freely and gorgeously. The cloudy tangles of tentacles streaking down from the jellyfish, the gently pulsating gills of the wide-eyed sharks, the spots splattered on the flat tops of the stingrays...it all combined in a spectacle that made your heart grin.

"They're all so beautiful, Eddie."

"I think so, too, sweetheart."

"I wish I could take one home as a pet."

"A shark?!"

You laughed and then turned your head as the pitter-patter of tiny feet ran up beside you. A young girl with frizzy hair and thick glasses smiled up at you. She was missing multiple teeth and had a few shining silver ones in the back.

"Did you know sharks don't have bones?" she yelled at you. "I think sharks are the coolest things in the world. They live on every ocean in the whole planet! How awesome is that?!"

You giggled at the little girl's enthusiasm and nodded. "Huh, that's amazing! Did you know that there are about 500 species of sharks?"

She nodded furiously. "My favorite are great white sharks. A lot of people are scared of sharks, but more people die putting on their pants every year than by shark attacks! Did you know--"

A frazzled woman with a phone pressed against her shoulder and cheek ran up behind the girl and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Franny, for God's sake, how many times have I told you to stop running off?" The woman looked at you and Edward apologetically. "I'm so sorry. She hears the word 'shark' and goes running away in that direction."

Eddie shook his head. "No, it's no problem," he said. "She's a smart girl."

The mother looked down at a beaming Franny and gave Edward a small smile. "She is, isn't she?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

By the time you left the zoo, the sun was wavering with the heat of the evening, leaking bright tangerine and coloring the clouds the same orange glow.

"Thanks for taking me here today," Edward said as you trudged through the packed parking lot. "It was fun."

"Honestly, Eddie, I was a little worried at first. I thought it might've been too peopley for you."

Edward chuckled softly and shook his head.

"I'm happy I went."

You studied his side profile for a moment as you made your way back to your car. The nervous, blood red rouge had long faded from his cheeks. And he was smiling. He ended the day smiling. That's really all you could've asked for; a happy day with your sweet guy. No matter where he went, no matter how fearful and daunting it seemed, all he really needed was you by his side. <3

[periwinklecosma]

(tw for r*cism, p*dophilia, tr*nsphobia, and SA)

truly i am not saying this simply for the sake of being mean or a snob but i wish mp100 fans would think more about the type of people they choose to make popular in our community. as a fic reader and writer i've seen all kinds of shit that people come up with and i'm not picky with what i enjoy but you know what i find to be completely baffling? the fact that only a handful of people seem to be willing to be critical of an author who (and i'm not putting this under a read more because you guys need to see how fucking long this is and let it sink in):

wrote touichirou to be even worse than he already is in canon. we're talking about being pro-eugenics, being racist towards serizawa (who is portrayed as blasian), and condoning child impregnation (don't even try to come at me with the whole "well duh he's the villain so what's the problem?!" because let me ask you: why would any of the above be necessary to show that touichirou is a villain? all of this is ultimately unimportant to the fic in question as a whole and imo they're not handled with the necessary care that should entail. something being dark and gritty =/= being better; i thought we've evolved past this mindset). excuse me for disregarding mp100's themes of "it's never too late to change" for a second here, but shit like this makes it extra difficult to buy into his character development post-wd arc. most recently, the author has revealed herself to hc him as having had a white south african mother from whom he learned "his kind of eugenics mindset. outright headcanoning a character to be racist huh? white.

is racist towards serizawa in general actually. the narration is constantly making weird comments about his hair before he starts working at s&s. you see people like REIGEN saying he looks sloppy, and it's never called out.

wrote a graphic sequence where reigen gives birth in a taxi while ritsu watches and helps deliver it. again, it's a completely unnecessary scene and adds nothing to the overall narrative, and it can be very uncomfortable for those faint of heart. also theres a gratuitous r/trei joke thrown in there for good measure.

has very questionable trans rep, according to the trans people i've spoken to. serizawa is implied to have a trans fetish, shimazaki is portrayed as a trans woman chaser (you know for the funnies), and allusions to reigen's transness are mostly through explicit imagery.

is really weird about the kids????? shou is characterized as someone who's constantly making dirty and frankly unsettling comments towards others even when he isn't being aged up, even though that's not a trait he has in canon. he and the others are constantly dancing right up to this really uncomfortable line that stops just short of full-blown gross shit.

WROTE A FIC WHERE REIGEN ASSAULTS SERIZAWA. do you hear me? she wrote a fucking fic where serizawa wakes up to reigen trying to get it on with him. that is assault. this author will tell you that it isn't assault because they're in an established relationship but listen to me: That. Is. Assault.

doesn't tag any of the shit i just mentioned! she doesn't alert her audience to any of these things before she draws in her audience because she's more worried about "spoilers" than actually protecting people. one time someone asked her to tag the fic i mentioned in the bullet point directly above as SA due to being triggered but she refused because they were the only person to have a problem with it (allegedly), and also because they were "rude." wtf. basic fucking decency shouldn't hinge on how polite or rude someone is being, but she has such a huge victim complex despite being 39 years old and too old for this shit that she doesn't even realize it.

again i am not trying to put myself on a soapbox and say that i'm inherently better than anyone but i really am so disappointed in you people. for the most part i find that this fandom is a lot more well put together than a lot of those hellholes out there (save for the standard fuckery that all fandoms are guilty of obviously) but seeing talented artists that i otherwise respect and have nothing against choose to put this person on a pedestal and by extension enable this sort of thing to continue is so disheartening. i'm not trying to attack anyone or accuse them of consciously condoning this content, but please think for a bit before you uncritically recommend it to others just because it has your favorite ship in it or because you enjoy darker and more mature themes.

[averymendoza]

“AND I'M SO SICK OF THEM COMING AT ME AGAIN. 'CAUSE IF I WERE A MAN, THEN I'D BE THE MAN”

INTRODUCING…

NAME: Avery Lisette Mendoza

GENDER & PREFERRED PRONOUNS: Cis woman {She/Her}

AGE: 43

BIRTHDAY: April 20, 1981

ZODIAC: Taurus Sun, Aries Moon, Virgo Rising

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

FACE CLAIM: Jessica Alba

LABEL: The Magnate

OCCUPATION: Creative Director/Graphic Designer @ Spark

HOMETOWN: Cole, WY

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Cole, WY

CHARACTER PLAYLIST: HERE.

UP NEXT: “THE MAN” BY TAYLOR SWIFT

BIOGRAPHY: TW ARRANGED MARRIAGE, ILLNESS MENTION

Avery was born a first generation American to parents who wanted a better life for her and themselves. Why they chose Cole, WY? It was the cheapest ticket at the time - and that was that. Avery never asked for anything, growing up. Money was always tight, and she had a bed and food every night - what more could she ask for? One of the luxuries they did have in the Mendoza household was a TV. Though it was an ancient relic that only played black and white film, the moments of watching with her family are highlights of her childhood. That marked her first dream: to be an actress. In school, she actually partook in the theater program and was actually fairly good at it. She was the lead for a couple musicals and plays throughout her elementary, middle school and high school careers. An aspect of school she didn’t like was how everyone was so quick to judge. Having old beat up clothing didn’t really help her, but she managed to make a couple real good friends throughout her schooling years that have stuck by her since. You’d think she would pay for new clothes once she got her first job in high school, but her paychecks went towards helping her parents to replace appliances that went awry within the home. Avery’s helpful nature didn’t end there. She turned down a full rise to Penn State in order to take care of her sick mother. At this time in her life, her father moved to LA and was sending them money as support. It was also at this time that Avery became aware of the arranged marriage that her father set up for her; A nice fellow who was the son of her father’s friend. With him, everything would be set - she wouldn’t have to raise a finger or worry about finances. She was going to go through with it for her father’s sake. He broke his back getting their family a better life in America. Avery couldn’t just walk away. But, that was until she bolted out of the chapel and hailed a cab out of there. It just wasn’t her. She couldn’t live a whatever sort of life just because it was what her family wanted for her. She had to do what she wanted for herself. Avery moved to NYC and worked various jobs to support herself and her tuition at NYU. She graduated with high honors in graphic design with a minor in business studies. It was a night like any other when Avery had an idea for a dating app for middle aged women and older. Being stood up for the umpteenth time was the last straw for the Mendoza woman. She came up with the idea of a referral system for men to join the app - that way they were verified by women utilizing the app that they were looking for the real thing. The app, Spark, took over the internet. The success stories started flooding in of grandmothers, mothers, aunts, all finding love again. It filled Avery’s heart. It also made her feel that much better that it was a company she started with her college roommates - people she trusted and all girl bosses. Recently, Avery came back to Cole to take a break from the fast-paced life in NYC.

EXTRA-EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT HER!

Avery is always looking for her next greatest idea. Currently, she is working on a book centering around empowerment with a friend of hers. She’s always go, go, go, go, go - she sometimes forgets to stop and appreciate where she is in life. Unlucky in love, Avery is usually stood up and isn’t used to genuine people who are interested in her. When she comes across people who are genuinely interested, she tends to write them off as being nice or messing with her. Avery is quick on her feet and there’s nothing she loves more than game nights. Uberly competitive, Avery loves to win and is really good at games - so she’s definitely someone you want on your team if there’s a game night happening. Avery loves to read, and people can easily find her at the bookstore when she isn’t working. It doesn’t take much to get Avery to go out and have fun. She’s always having a margarita or two and then dancing on top of tables at the bar. She’s blunt, but it’s for the best of whoever she’s speaking with. She doesn’t like to beat around the bush. She also loves to play devil’s advocate over situations to help people sort out their own answer. Overall, she’s just by girl boss babe - here for a fun time.

PERSONALITY:

+ Ambitious, Adroit, and Innovative

- Confrontational, Guarded, and Blunt

[mariabtsos]

One That I Want ||m.yg|| — Chapter 1: Back To School

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Description: It is summer of 1956, and leader of the T-Birds Yoongi is working at a food joint at the beach to make extra money over the summer, when he meets a pretty girl. They start a summer fling that unfortunately had to come to end, but an unexpected turn of events will bring them back together.

Genre: 1950s au, angst, fluff, some smut, Greaser!Yoongi x Square/Goody-Two-Shoes!OC.

TW: underage drinking and smoking, sexual content, violence, misogyny (it’s the 1950s so peak macho man era).

Word Count: 1k+

"All I'm saying baby is we could play backseat bingo tonight at lover's lane, hmm? You interested?" Yoongi asked the blonde girl he had held hostage with his arm next to her head. He vaguely remembered having a class with her last year, what was her name? Lucy? Ana? It didn't matter, he was looking for a fun time, and he didn't mind re-using old merch.

"Hey hyung!" He heard the voice of his dimpled friend, Namjoon. And all a sudden a bunch of other voices followed calling his name, no doubt his friends. He turned to them giving them a lazy smile, leaving his latest conquest as he made his way to them.

"Hey fellas," he greeted, multiple handshakes happening at once.

"Where were you all summer, man? We ain't heard of you until last week!" Jimin asked as he combed his D.A. styled hair.

"Spent most of it at the beach," he answered, putting his free hand in his pocket, "burger flippin' and whatnot."

"How was the action at the beach?" Jin asked, holding him by the shoulder whilst slightly shaking him.

"Oh, it was flippin'," Yoongi explained shaking his hands as if to dry them off. He hated lying to his friends, but the reality was, he'd spent most of his time with Lottie, and there was no action involved, no petting, barely any necking, nothing really.

"Ooo, were the girls smokin'?" Namjoon asked, his perverted mind wanting to know about all of his friend's conquests.

"Yeah, I mean, there was this one girl who" Yoongi started, getting excited about discussing his summer fling before he remembered who he was talking to, "I mean, she sorta kinda cool," he finished, rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Ooo, you mean she puts out?" Hoseok asked. Yoongi rolled his eyes, throwing away the cigarette he'd been holding. "Come on now Hobi is that all you think about?"

"Well, yeah, is there anything else?" He replied bursting into laughter. As they started to make their way inside their school.

What Yoongi didn't know, is that the girl that had stolen his heart this past summer was getting off the bus, and walking alongside her was one of the members of the 'Pink Ladies.'

"Nayeon, you don't think I look too bad do ya?" Lottie asked her newest friend.

"Of course not! You look fine!" She said cheerfully. Lottie smiled whilst touching her hair one more time.

"So, this is Seoul Central High School?" She asked. Looking around it wasn't half bad, it was a big white building, the courtyard had pretty bushes, and the outside looked semi-decent, but she couldn't help missing her old school.

"Yup! It's not too shabby, although I'm sure American high schools are prettier!" Nayeon smiled, looking down at her purse and scavenging through it. "Now, let's take you to the registration office so you can get your schedule." She said, closing her little clutch and hooking her arm through Lottie's.

The office was heavy with traffic, teachers punching in time cards, and the assistant principal frantically looking for the schedules that were missing.

"Come on Eileen, we needed those yesterday!" The principal, Mrs. Lee insisted.

"Here, if it was a snake it would've bit me!" Eileen passed the folder on, though the look on the principal's face was anything but cheerful.

"Eileen, these are last semester's schedules," she rolled her eyes and passed the folder back, "with enough luck next semester you'll find these semester's schedules!" The tall woman complained walking back to her office. Just in time for Lottie to walk into registration, which meant she overheard some talk before she was noticed.

"I got Namjoon again," a tall, older gentleman groaned as he punched in his timecard, followed by woman who was significantly shorter.

"He's been here longer than me!" She sounded exhausted, "hopefully he'll graduate before I retire," she chuckled humorless, walking toward Lottie. "How long 'til Christmas vacation?" She asked Eileen, who'd just disappeared behind the counter .

"Eighty-six days," Lottie answered, the old woman put her hand on her forehead.

"Eighty-six?!"

Lottie nodded, "I'm counting."

Just then Principal Lee walked up to Lottie, "Can I help you young lady?" She asked sweetly.

"It's my first day and I'm not sure where I'm supposed to be," Lottie smiled apologetically, "oh no worries! You'll just have to fill out some paperwork, here." Principal Lee explained, handing her a few forms.

Outside the office, Nayeon was waiting for Lottie when she spotted the rest of her gang.

"Hey girls!" She greeted as they approached her.

"Hey Honey Bun!" Miyeon smiled.

"What're you up to? Did you get in trouble already?" Kim giggled, holding her jacket over her shoulder.

"No, I'm just waiting on the new girl, I offered to walk her to class but she has to get her schedule first," Nayeon replied with her bunny smile in full display.

"Ladies, please go ahead and start heading to class, especially you Ms. Kim," Principal Lee reprimanded them as she opened the registration office door, she liked to be able to look out to the hallway. The Pink Ladies simply smiled, and agreed as their principal disappeared again.

"Jiyoon please, twinkies are SO adolescent," Miyeon complained to the girl next to her, who was in the process of eating the previously mentioned dessert.

"But we ARE adolescents," Jiyoon fought back, looking at Miyeon straight in the eye as she took a bite.

"Don't go flaunting it!" Kim rolled her eyes, "Alright ladies, let's go get 'em, see you later Nayeonie," she bid goodbye as she led the other two girls to their classroom.

Lottie was finally assigned her schedule, they had offered to find her a guide but she declined and told them about Nayeon. When she finally walked out of the office she saw the aforementioned waiting for her whilst retouching her lipstick.

"Hey honey! So where am I taking ya?" She asked.

"Room 203?" Lottie opened up the binder to show her the piece of paper.

"Great! That means we have homeroom together, health class!" Nayeon explained as she hooked arms with Lottie again, leading the way down the hall. "Oh, is the teacher nice?" She asked.

"Yeah, he mostly sits in the corner and smokes," the bunny smile girl giggled, and Lottie soon joined her.

[returntosaturn271995]

Friday, August 11th: Senior (Account Executive) Skip Day

I'm sure it's just the calm before the influencer storm, but I well and truly was not assigned a damn thing to do today. This is likely due to Halle's tenure as a freelancer ending when August comes to a close, which is fucking fine by me. Has anyone in the history of time done less to make over $1500?

Actually sadly yes, probably. But I refuse to get too comfortable or too proud of myself until I actually start doing something. It reminds me of when I worked for Sony at 23, literally being paid to essentially print things and sit there all day when I was 22. Big companies just kind of have fuck-you money to throw at useless cogs. Like yes, technically: I drafted contracts and edited creative concepts for the brand, and drafted a list of Influencers for review. But that shit isn't difficult. There are templates and processes and like 4 extra hours after that to just keep your Microsoft Teams on while you do your laundry.

You can be completely ineffective for like years before it even becomes a matter of review. Imposter Syndrome is currently in full effect or maybe I'm just realizing that no one is inherently more "worthy" or special than I am. Pleasantly though, my anxiety is at bay (which bay is still to be determined, but I'm comfortable.)

Either way, I'm online shopping! Currently rocking a two-piece black workout set with my black and white Asics and white scrunchie. It's around 4 in the afternoon and Makenna and I are just chilling on the couch and trying to lure her cat Blue from her room to the living room. She is currently very unsure even with treats on the table.

Today my Nike Run App plan is to go on a "Long-Run", which since I'm on an 8-week 5 K plan is legit just a mile. So I'm going to focus on speed. It's nice and overcast out so thankfully I won't die of heat exhaustion. Global warming has not been fucking around lately, Maui is currently on fire with over 55 people killed. Not that I'm comparing my getting hot in the summer to looming natural disasters. Or well, okay I guess I just did, but at least I'm running? Yesterday I did a recovery run at 9 miles per hour and then a 10-minute yoga stretching session.

Also read in "4000 Weeks" about the power of having your vacation or off time at the same time as others, as well as shared goals being a source of happiness. He specifically cited singing in choirs, which I completely remember and relate to from high school. The fact that I went to Iceland and Costa Rica to sing still surprises me sometimes and singing in a 1500-year-old church in 8 parts remains a religious experience in my heart. I've never been involved in a church or frankly into any hardcore doctrine, but I do miss feeling as though I were contributing in a real way to something important, beautiful, and bigger than myself. Something to think about.

In Jenny Slate's, "Little Wierds", the writing and stories are both poetic and silly. Also so relatable that I could cry. There are elements of nature, hope, despair, a 19th-century ghost woman at the seaside, and what I can only describe as vagina panic. She doesn't write like me at all and yet our souls have watched similar movies and gotten lost in similar forests.

In brighter news: The U.S. Department of Energy announced on Friday that it will spend $1.2 billion on the nation’s first two major carbon-capture facilities. 

[snow-leopard-7772point0]

The Life of a Hero Chapter 1

Marinette… wasn't sure what to think. Not only did she not know who her paternal grandfather was until she tracked down Rolland Dupain, but there was an entire side to that family she would have never dreamed existed. Her grandpère- he was her grandpère regardless of what people may say- was infertile and so his best friend was asked to father a child for Rolland and his wife. Her papa had a brother that she'd never heard of, and so she not only had two new grandfather's, but also an uncle and several cousins. Rolland promised to contact Alfred and see about organizing some kind of reunion. Marinette thought she was going to crush her grandpère Rolland with the hug she gave him.

She did her best to reassure her grandpère that he would not be left behind or forgotten just because of a blood relation to someone else, promising that she had more than enough room in her heart to accept them all as family. She made sure to visit her grandpère as much as physically possible, going as far as to buy an extra sewing machine to leave at his house along with fabrics so that she could work on commissions and requests from her friends while she was there and spend more time with him. Well… when her friends asked for favors these days… if she could call them friends… Marinette quickly shook her head, getting rid of the thoughts. She had no time for negativity. If her friends preferred Lila and her lies, well, that just meant she had more time for Ladybug, commissions, and her grandpère. Not to mention the rest of her family promising to come to Paris soon!

She met her aunt? on a rooftop as Marinette. She liked to parkour over Parisian rooftops in her civilian self when things just… were too hard to deal with. Like Adrien choosing to back up Lila's lies instead of just standing by now, and Chloe's increasingly vicious attempts to make her stand up for herself again. She met a woman clothed very… plainly. An off-white collared v-neck shirt with loose sleeves tucked into a pair of brown military grade pants hid her figure fairly well, her only identifying marks being her hair and face. And, well, the katana she was polishing. The woman hardly spared her a glance. "I was wondering when you would finally come out again, aibnat al'ukht (niece)."

Marinette froze. "I'm sorry, I don't know much Arabic. Did you just call me your niece???"

The woman finally looked at her, sharp green eyes meeting vivid blue. "Yes. Your father is brother to my habibi*. That makes you my aibnat al'ukht. I am Talia, your eama."

Marinette slowly lowered herself to sit on the roof. "You truly know my uncle?" Talia silently pulled out a single photo of herself standing next to Bruce, both of them smiling. Marinette's eyes widened. "Wow," she breathed, "I have an aunt."

Talia repressed a smile at the simple joy and reverence the girl showed. "Bruce and I aren't on the best of terms right now. He married me because he wanted to learn from my father, and alab allowed it because of who Bruce is. Bruce demanded I break off contact with alab… and no matter how loyal to Bruce I am, I cannot be disloyal to my father."

Marinette felt her eyes brimming with tears, her heart going out to her aunt. "I'm sorry he put you through that."

Talia shook her head. "It doesn't matter anyways. He's a good man. I just couldn't leave my past behind the way he'd hoped I would be able to. He saw himself as saving me from myself. But the reason I am telling you all of this is to ask you to keep a very big secret for me. Can you do that? Bruce must not learn of this until it is time."

Marinette immediately nodded, her face reflecting how serious she was. "I have gotten very good at keeping secrets the past few years. I can assure you that no one will learn of your secret from me, eama."

Talia studied her face before nodding. "Damian. Yazhar (come out)."

Marinette's eyes widened at the sight of the child, he looked about half her age. The near-fourteen year old had to physically restrain herself from jumping in joy, not wanting to frighten the child. She settled for grinning at him. "Hello, wulid eamm, my name is Marinette."

Damian offered her a single nod, standing not so tall next to his mother. "Damian is my abn, Bruce is his father. He doesn't know about Damian, and I'd like to keep it that way for a while yet. There is no one Damian's age where we live. I was hoping we could spend some time here so that he could get to know you and have some positive memories of his childhood."

"Of course!" Marinette jumped on the chance given to her. "I'll refer to you as auntie at home instead of eama so that no one catches on to you not being from France. I can say I'm babysitting Damian for you while you're going through a hard time, which is how you became auntie. Damian, do you like swords as well?"

The child eyed the teenager suspiciously before nodding again. "I'm not sure how well my parents would take to a kid using a sword in the house, but I have throwing knives and a target hidden in my room. Would that be acceptable?" Marinette figured this would be the best way to connect with the child instead of trying to drag him away from what he liked. She'd had people do that to her often enough that she knew how much it stung. As long as he didn't cut himself she didn't see a problem with it.

Talia stared at the baker's daughter, truly shocked. "What?"

Marinette simply blinked at her. "He keeps reaching towards his back like he's used to something being there. You're polishing a katana, so it's a safe bet that he's used to having a sword with him as well. There's a chance you've already taught him how to throw knives, but if you haven't yet, it's always good to add another weapon to your arsenal. I also know how to use a yoyo, baton, and rope dart in combat. If my uncle was wanting to 'save you from yourself,' you must be involved in something dangerous, something that involves frequent fights for your life, otherwise you wouldn't have met me with a sword in hand unless you'd planned on threatening me, which you haven't done at all. That tells me you're nervous and on edge sitting out in the open like this, especially since you know your son is unarmed except for two small blades hidden up his sleeves."

Talia grinned at the girl even as Damian somehow narrowed his eyes even more, "How did you know? 'Um did not notice until after we arrived."

"Every time you go to reach for your back and stop yourself, you fiddle with your sleeves instead. I caught a glimpse of one of the blades while you were reaching back and your sleeve rode down. No offense, but you're not yet big enough to swing a very large blade, much less hide any in your sleeves. I'm guessing you have kunai?"

Damian's eyes sparkled. He lowered his voice to what he thought was a whisper, leaning close to his mother. "'Um, can she be my 'ukht?"

Talia stared at her son, once again taken by surprise. "Would you really like me to adopt her?"

Damian nodded feverishly. "She is the first person I have met to prove even slightly knowledgeable. She is worthy to be family."

Talia sighed. "Very well, abn." She finally looked away from her son to meet wide blue eyes, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, what would you think about becoming an Al-ghul?"

Marinette looked at the child, too small to be seven, and yet wise beyond his years before looking at her aunt, faded scars just barely visible on her neck, chest, and hands. She took a deep breath. "I cannot leave Paris right now. But if it would help you and Damian… I'll do it."

~~~

Bruce is ashamed to say that he and his children may have… panicked a little when Alfred dropped the phone with tears running down his face. Alfred finally managed to calm them down before picking the phone back up with trembling fingers.

"Rolland? Is that really you?"

Bruce tapped his foot impatiently, listening to Alfred's side of the conversation, quickly recognizing the name. "Yes, Master Bruce, the children, and I would be overjoyed to come out for a visit. We have a few things to arrange, but we will head there as soon as possible." Bruce waited for the soft click before speaking.

"Alfred? Is everything alright?" Bruce struggled to keep his voice under control at the sight of Alfred's tears.

"Yes, Master Bruce, I do believe things are more than fine. That was my old friend Rolland- he has invited us all out to meet his- my- our granddaughter. She'll be fourteen in a few months. He offered to celebrate her birthday with us when we get there."

Bruce Wayne, infamous playboy, Batman, prowler of the night, nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get to his office to make arrangements. "I can ask Clark to cover for me in Gotham, we look similar enough. And Martian Manhunter can cover for Tim, or I can say Robin went on a trip. I'll have to ask Dick if he wants to come or not." Bruce continued to mutter to himself, barely avoiding walking into a wall on his way to his office.

Alfred simply looked down at the phone, smiling softly at the child in the picture Rolland sent him.

_____________________________________

*Habibi in this scenario is used in the context of meaning beloved- I have found several translations of habibi that all mean around the same thing, and so I just chose the word that fit what I was going for.

If you want to be tagged just let me know. I have no idea what I'm doing or how to connect chapters, do I look like I'm that skilled? Major character death later on in the chapters, so you may not want to keep going behind this chapter of you don't like that, angst is planned to start building next chapter.

If for some reason I am unable to tag you, I will send you a message letting you know it's been posted.

@liquid-luck-00 @nightlychaotic @adrestar

@astrynyx @fleursroses @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole

[katsukikitten]

Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.6 END

There were little things, really, that ended up putting her doubts and theories to rest. Nicole hadn't been an active person since she was five, so the occasional mild fatigue didn't stand out from her normal routine. The headaches that came and went or the tiredness that accompanied nights when she didn't get enough sleep were simply chucked to her body adjusting to its newfound immortality. Sometimes it takes longer for the Cadou to fully settle in, Esteria had reassured her, talking from personal experience as her own mutation took close to two years to be done changing her body.

All the doubt was wiped from her mind when she woke up one evening, the day after another particularly unpleasant experiment run with Miranda, with a splitting headache. It soon turned downright nauseating and hasty steps took her to the bathroom connected to Cassandra's bedchambers, where she all but doubled over, as much as her position leaning on the sink allowed.

Her initial plan was to simply splash some cold water on her face, but that soon went out the window when her throat and mouth were invaded by the familiar sensation of thick blood coming and pouring out. The white porcelain got stained in dark crimson as her heart seemed to beat painfully against her ribcage, making a small whimper escape blood stained lips. This experience in and of itself was not unfamiliar by now, but her own body apparently taking offence to simply existing was a new and unwelcomed development. An attempt to take a deep breath was made, but that only seemed counterproductive as it sent a stinging ache through her chest, so she settled for holding her breath until the pain subsided. A few shuddering intakes of the oxygen her body seemed to scream for later, the room and her reflection finally seemed to stop spinning.

Her eyes landed on the crimson mess in the sink and she let out an exhausted sigh, but before it could be cleaned, the bathroom door that she had left ajar creaked open.

"Heyy- ooo that looks bad," Daniela's voice came from her side, tone as over the top as always with the grimace that pulled at her features.

"Oh this? What do you mean, just a normal Thursday evening," Nicole replied, voice dripping with sarcasm and hands still shaking on the faucet when she turned on the water.

The other redhead didn't seem phased, presumably being Bela and Cassandra's sister does render one immune to sarcasm. Instead she shrugged and occupied herself with her sister's collection of perfumes that were placed on an adjacent counter.

Nicole gave her a look through the mirror while trying to splash some water on the remaining blood stains. "Did you… need something?"

"Dumbass number one and two are practicing some sword fighting in the garden. Thought you'd like to see," came the reply complete with an eyebrow wiggle that gained her a playful shove.

"Give me a minute to change," Nicole said, finally pushing herself off the sink when the nausea subsided back to a mild headache and her face was free of crimson trails.

As promised, when they entered the back garden that stood between the castle and its extensive vineyard, the faint clinking of metal against metal could be heard. It raised in volume as they made their way to an area where a few logs had been set on the grass, that made perfect sitting spots around what the sisters reclaimed as their small personal arena dedicated to occasional training. The vine covered statues and bushes with colorful leaves made for a pleasant spot to simply spend time in too, her wife currently dressed in light training gear and sword fighting coming as a big bonus to the beautiful surroundings.

The moment Cassandra's eyes landed briefly on her, a characteristic smirk pulled at her lips, their ashy tone left visible from the choice to skip lipstick for the time being. Their sparring match got cut short by a sudden low swipe at Bela's feet, that knocked her off balance and sent her on the trampled grass underfoot.

"Show off," she grumbled at her younger sister when offered a hand to get up. She took it, but continued to glare daggers at Cassandra as she dusted off her pants.

Not that the middle sister noticed, having turned and came up to her wife for a tender good morning kiss. She let the hand not occupied by the sword's handle rest on Nicole's cheek, eyebrows pulling into a frown upon noticing the tired look in emerald eyes.

"Are you feeling well? You look pale."

"Yeah yeah-"

"Oh just some mild gut-puking in the form of blood all over your sink," Daniela interjected, giving a fake innocent shrug when Nicole turned to glare at her. "You might wanna get a maid to clean it up, she did a shit job of it."

"I did not!" Nicole protested.

"You forgot the underside," Daniela hummed. "That was some mad splatter there."

She was rendered mute as the youngest sister moved to the small fence portion that was turned into an impromptu weapon holder to choose something and take Cassandra's place in another sparring match. Her glare was interrupted when she noticed her wife's worried expression.

"It's fine, just a mild headache now," Nicole sighed as she brought a hand up to interlace their fingers and pull Cassandra with her so they could both sit where Laura and Anita were. "Any chance I'm getting another performance? Since I missed the last one," she then said, a sly smile making its way on her lips.

That got Cassandra to grin, fangs glimmering in the early evening's soft light in a way that anyone else would find downright menacing. "Of course," she answered, eyes momentarily moving to her sisters.

It looked like Bela was winning, despite Daniela choosing her preferred twin swords that she wielded with an odd mix of grace and chaos. A slip past her guard and a hit with the ornate hilt of Bela's sword was what it took to put an end to their match, the youngest sister stumbling forward and breaking into a swarm before she had the chance to fully lose balance and fall face first into the dirt. She reappeared in front of the blonde, tongue stuck out and nose scrunched in an annoyed grimace, complete with a middle finger. If the Dimitrescu sisters had one thing in common, it was that all three of them were the world’s biggest sore losers.

"My turn to kick her ass," Cassandra perked up, picking up her well polished gladius.

Daniela, still miffed about her previous loss, didn't offer her the grace of getting into a proper stance. A flash of flies later, the clanking of metal ringed around them as Cassandra pushed her back.

"We said no swarm!" Bela called out from where she had found a seat on the grass, right in front of Laura.

The youngest rolled her eyes but complied, the buzzing completely dying down in favor of quick swipes and blocks. What Cassandra might've lacked in speed, she more than made up for in an impeccable defense, being near impossible to get near her body even with the apparent advantage of having an extra sword. Their fighting came to a standstill soon enough, with Daniela unable to get near while also being too quick to let any major hit land.

"My ladies."

Alexandria's voice called out from the entrance of their little makeshift arena, distracting Daniela enough for her sister to quickly swipe at her feet not unlike she had previously done to Bela.

The Steward flinched for a second when a long frustrated growl was heard from the youngest, but cleared her throat and did her best to keep up her characteristic poker face as she addressed Nicole. "Mother Miranda's assistant is here for you."

Her face fell, annoyance and dread both bubbling in her chest at having her pleasant day cut short not even two hours after waking up. She got up and exchanged goodbyes with the rest of her family while grabbing Cassandra's free hand in a silent demand to see her to the door.

On their way out, she decided that old jeans and a slightly oversized shirt that had survived her high school days was an attire appropriate enough to being tortured. It should've been concerning how at peace she had become with that idea, at least to any person with a sound mind. She never declared her sanity intact though.

"I'll see you later," she told Cassandra once they were at the heavy doors of the castle's main entrance, a thumb slowly tracing her jaw.

Emma was impatiently waiting for her just outside and blame the slight inherent meanness she had learned to let free since becoming a Dimitrescu, but Nicole took immense pleasure from the woman's uncomfortable grimace when she pulled Cassandra down in a deep kiss that went on for ten seconds too long. Small victories in the face of doom.

---

Nicole choked out a sob that walked the fine line between crying and screaming when the knife that looked way too big for the woman's hands came down at her elbow's joint with a gut wrenching crack.

It felt like Miranda had an unbeatable talent to never disappoint when someone thought she had reached the peak of inhumane with her experiments. The poisons were dreadful as was everything before that. The test on how well she can heal bullet wounds from the previous day had been downright cruel, only stopping after the results that showed how only a bullet through the head can incapacitate her for a while. Today's experiment on regenerating limbs was starting to eat away at Nicole's remaining sanity. It obviously started small, with fingers, but Miranda was always so keen on pushing limits.

She turned on her side with the remaining hand pressed to tear filled eyes and nails digging into skin as she desperately tried to find some sort of distraction from the pain and tingling that felt like static in her veins. Her temples were already throbbing with a headache and her vision was spinning due to the nausea. Miranda and Emma were having some sort of conversation to the side, but it felt distant through the deafening ringing in her ears as she put all her effort into not throwing up due to the sheer shock her body was going through.

The amount of time she laid there sobbing completely evaded her, not bothering to keep a mental track nor raising her head towards the clock mounted on the wall. She just wanted the healing to move and get it over with.

By the time she was mentally prepared to stomach the sight, her hand was already stitching together muscles covering the newly reformed bone, together with the beginnings of skin close to the incision. She tried moving her finger and flinched into a whole body cringe at how utterly wrong it felt.

The door creaking open took her attention away from the unsightly muscles twitching as they got placed together and into their places.

"Lord Heisenberg is here," announced a man, donning a white lab uniform not unlike Emma's.

"Just on time," Miranda perked up, a dangerously gleeful look in her eyes.

She got up, leaving the assistant with the job of timing Nicole's healing as she went to greet Karl. It went on for almost another torturous minute before the tell tale click of the timer and Emma noting it down marked that her arm was once again whole.

"How- how long was that?" Nicole asked, tentatively moving her hand. Good as new, with the exact same mobility function and sensitivity. The only thing missing was the beige nail polish applied just the night prior.

"Five minutes and twenty," the woman replied, not looking up from her paper.

Another few minutes of silence passed, that Nicole spent flexing her fingers. A bit of hot rage coursed through her veins when she noticed her ring finger, the matching band she and Cassandra had having been left on the desk upon entering the lab. At least Miranda had the decency of not slicing her hand off with the ring still on it, but she still wanted it back.

It wasn't long before Miranda came back, motioning for her to follow. "Come," she said, waiting for Nicole to push herself off the hospital bed and onto her feet.

A small burst of dizziness later, she was standing and shaky legs were taking her towards the woman. "Can I get my ring back now?" She did her best to keep the edge out of her tone, too tired to face her wrath.

Miranda simply thought for a moment before waving a dismissive hand at her. "Fine, it won't be in the way anymore."

Nicole wasn't sure if that was good or downright horrifying.

Most of the rooms in the underground maze of corridors were unknown to her. The structure twisting and turning in dizzying patterns that were enough to disorient anyone not familiar with the layout. Not to mention the occasional tunnel that stretched for entirely too long that led to one place or the other from the town above.

Nicole found herself following Miranda through one such unknown area, the corridors new to her but the look not dissimilar to every other part of the underground structure. If it weren't for the numbered plaques on the door, she wouldn't even be able to tell this was a different area than the ones she's seen before.

Miranda pushed open a door and led her inside. It was definitely more spacious than the labs and the space was mostly cleared out save from a few tables lining the walls and some cabinets. The only thing at the center was Lord Heisenberg and a long metal table, leather straps fastened to its sides and a circular saw blade attached to a machine above.

Nicole took a couple stumbling steps back, hips hitting the corner of a table and rattling the papers placed on it. It seemed to peeve Miranda, who grabbed her wrist impatiently.

"Come now, we don't have all day," she said while slowly dragging her towards the table.

With every shaky step, her knees felt like jello under her and her ears started to ring anew with the panic and dread settling like ice in her veins. Her legs finally gave way under her and she fell to her knees with a pathetic sob.

"No please. Please I can't," she said, one hand meekly grabbing at the goddess' lab coat.

Miranda bent down on one knee, brows furrowed in the feign concern that only she could have perfected to such an art. "We have to," she started, voice so soft one could easily believe it belonged to someone else. "We must know the limits of your regenerative abilities. You said it yourself that you want to know them."

She had but not like this. Not like this.

"Then use anesthesia. Please just don't-" she choked out a sob before the end of her phrase. Not that it was going anywhere, it was just a pathetic attempt at bargaining for less suffering.

Surprisingly enough, there were few instances since coming to the Village when she felt truly and utterly terrified. Anxious and afraid? Sure. But not even Lady Dimitrescu hiring her, or Cassandra taking an interest in freaking her out or even getting shot made her feel the dread she was feeling then. She would've rather spent eternity on the cold hard stone under her knees than budge an inch.

Miranda pursed her lips and lifted her chin with one hand, expression like a mother hearing her child make an outrageously unattainable request. "You know that will interfere with the results."

"Then local anesthesia," Nicole suggested, holding onto some kind of feeble hope by a thread.

The goddess seemed to actually consider it for a moment before shaking her head. A hundred meek protests and cries fell past Nicole's lips and on deaf ears as she was pulled up by the wrist and back on track towards the metal table. Miranda was incredibly strong despite her rather short stature, so any attempt at pulling back was completely useless.

Once at the room's center, she pushed Nicole against the table, frowning when she refused to get on. With a sigh, she grabbed her chin once again, putting slightly more force in the gesture. Both a warning and witness to her growing impatience.

"If you keep still it's going to be much less painful," she promised, though the validity behind her words were doubtful.

Though there was something in Miranda's tone that almost demanded to be believed without question. It may have been the inherent authority that came with being almost divine, a goddess in all ways that truly mattered. Or something else entirely, common to every piece of the Megamycete's web, down to the finest and farthest roots.

With a barely visible nod, Nicole pushed herself onto the cold surface of the table. It was far taller than she was so Karl had to spend a few good minutes readjusting the leather straps on the sides until they were in the right positions to wrap tightly around her limbs.

"Uh… sorry kiddo," he said in a barely audible whisper as he fastened a strap around her forehead. "Here," he pressed a folded cloth to her lips, that she bit down on to at least try to not crack any teeth.

He seemed almost as much of an unwilling participant as she was, lips pulled into a tight line under the scruffy mustache. The only one seeming rather gleeful there was Miranda.

The leather was digging painfully into her skin, the belts having been tightened slightly too much to prevent movement. Not to mention the uncomfortable position, with her hands tied above her head and starting to feel numb. Her head also seemed beyond foggy, the shallow breaths she was taking doing a poor job of providing her body with oxygen, to which it protested with a heart painfully beating against her ribcage, almost as if the small parasite that nestled around it was taking offence itself.

Another sob shook her body, deafened out by the metal sound of the circular blade when it was turned on. Thankfully it was clean. At least Nicole hoped as much. And sharp. If she was going through this she prayed that she would at least be granted the mercy of a clean cut as opposed to shredding of skin and muscle with everything underneath.

She shut her eyes when Miranda raised her shirt enough to expose her abdomen and, as the saw forcefully came down, screams were muffled both by the cloth in her mouth and the deafening roar of the saw.

---

The feeble knock on heavy ornate doors was answered by the tall woman positioned on guard duty that night. Nicole did not remember her name and at the moment it was the least of her worries.

She took a handful of shaky steps inside before clearing her throat in an attempt to not let her voice waver. "Cassandra?"

"Out hunting with her sisters and the other ladies," the woman answered promptly.

Nicole simply nodded once and made her way into the castle as the heavy thud of the shutting doors echoed around her. Her movements seemed on autopilot, eyes only focused enough to watch her step as she made her way through the familiar path up to her wife's bedroom. She barely registered passing through the first set of corridors, the paintings and priceless decor she had grown accustomed to every day becoming a background blur.

She felt downright dreadful.

Her ears were still ringing slightly and exhaustion made her limbs feel heavy and aching with every step. The headache from earlier was also back in full swing and throbbing painfully at her temples.

A quick look at a golden clock mounted on the wall in the main hall reminded her that it was near dawn so the rest of her family must be on their way home.

She flinched, a small jump that threatened to throw her off balance, at the heavy footsteps that came behind her. Throwing a look over her shoulder she saw none other than Lady Dimitrescu, her mother in law, making her way under the low arch of one of the doors leading into the spacious room. Thin black eyebrows were pulled into a frown at the sight of the much smaller woman, hunched over and all but shivering, with dark circles under her eyes having taken an almost purplish hue and dried tear streaks on pallid cheeks.

"Oh hi," Nicole greeted with a wry smile. "I thought you were out hunting."

Alcina waved a hand dismissively, eyes still focused on every minuscule shake of her shoulders. "Paperwork had to be taken care of."

At the explanation, Nicole let out an oh and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, unsure of how to politely book it up the stairs and under the mountain of blankets on Cassandra's bed. There was no escape, it seemed, as a large hand came to gingerly rest on her shoulder, leading her further in and towards one of the plush couches lined in front of the barely lit fireplace. "Come sit," she offered, face softening in a gentle motherly smile.

Nicole just nodded absent mindedly, sitting barely on the edge of the white cushions decorated with a beautiful intricate floral pattern. She passed clammy hands on her jeans, now covered in fine powdery ash from the crystallized remains of the discarded half of her body after she retrieved them following the night's experiments. A disgusted grimace pulled at her lips, deciding then and there that the pants had to be burned as soon as possible.

"How did the tests go?" Alcina asked, taking her attention away from the ruined piece of garment and being met with distant eyes.

"Good," Nicole whispered, but before the word could even be fully out of her mouth a sob shook her entire body, coming out accompanied by choked out gasps as she all but doubled over in an attempt to make herself smaller than she already was.

The Lady's eyes widened at the sudden outpouring of emotion, so uncharacteristic for the woman in the few years she had been part of her family. "Oh child," she whispered, hands resting protectively on small shaking shoulders.

"Did-" Nicole started but interrupted herself with another shuddering gasp. "Did she- do the same thing to-... to you?"

Alcina grimaced, expression unseen by the smaller woman currently curled in on herself in her arms. It had been so long since her infection, the pain caused by her body acclimating to the Cadou a distant memory. Something that would forever remain seared in her mind however was the cruel ice in their goddess' eyes as she ran test after dreadful test, pushing the limits of her body to see how much she can actually heal. It had taken months to finally be content with the results, after her body's defensive response had been mutating and turning into the giant hungry beast she kept carefully at bay from that moment on. Instead of answering, Alcina decided that the better option was to rub her back slowly, not unlike she had done to her own daughters countless times before, to bring some comfort.

"You will get through this," she promised, unwavering conviction in her tone.

---

Date: 20th May 2012

Subject: Nicole [REDACTED] Dimitrescu

Mutation experiments - 5 (Regeneration- 4)

Testing the limits of regenerative abilities - regrowing body parts

Subject can regrow limbs (arm, served from elbow - 5'20'') and regenerate after being cut in half. If the body is cut with a 50/50 ratio, the upper half will regrow the lower half, prioritizing brain activity and the Cadou's placement. If the proportions are different in favour of the lower half, the upper one may still be the one taking priority; results vary. Up to 80% of body mass can be regenerated. If more than that is destroyed (eg. dissolved using acid) subject will presumably crystallize and enter a dormant state like others infected with a Cadou.

The discarded body parts crystallize and disintegrate into a stony/ashy mass.

---

Miranda's enthusiasm seemed to slowly dwindle after a few more experiment runs, the same effects John Abbott's mutations that caused his untimely death coming to knock at Nicole's door every so often.

"You see," the goddess had said the last time she had called Nicole down in the underground labs. "John was missing the healing abilities, which led to his infection slowly corroding away at his body until his death. You can heal, so you won't die, but the negative effects are still present. So try not to get hurt too much too often," she finished, not even sparing her a glance.

And that was the last Nicole had seen of Miranda, at least as far as one on one experiments went. The woman would still pay the castle a visit every so often, sitting down with Alcina for a glass of wine and having the rest of the family joining in on occasion, when their discussions didn't stray too far into matters of their cult.

She was right too. There were days when a migraine would rudely wake her up in the morning, or when her chest seemed to ache to the point where she was sure the parasite that made its home around her beating heart was trying to escape. The Cadou truly was a wretched little thing, constantly at odds with her body's defenses and trying to slowly but surely cause damage to the point of death. But if there's one thing that very same parasite had bestowed upon her was just… being really good at not dying. The healing abilities were in a continuous cycle of repairing any and all internal damage the infection may have caused on a not so good day. Those times had her doubling over the nearest sink, or suitable container if unlucky, a waterfall of blood carrying all the damaged tissue that had been replaced flowing from her lips in crimson rivulets.

A cruel fate, one may think. Not her though, for the knowledge of how her family had helped her through the change was at the forefront of her mind each time she had to sit down due to a burst of dizziness. Cassandra rubbing gentle circles on her back while she was coughing up the clogged blood in her throat grounded her beyond belief. Then, when everything was said and done, there was always something to get back to. A short vacation originally meant for business but that Alcina would always prolong for just a couple days so they could all spend some quality time away from the Village and the cult and Miranda's scrutinizing ever watchful eyes. Or the season's first hunting trip, the genuine glee on her wife's face never growing old to her. Even life's more mundane events, like the weekly movie night that had half the family groaning at Esteria's choice of vampire media. Rinse and repeat, forever under the castle's imposing towers and inside ornate inviting rooms, always warm and welcoming, always feeling like home to her.

If that was the price she had to pay for eternity, then so be it.

---

Subject Name: Nicole Dimitrescu

Cadou Affinity: Favorable

Brain Functions: Normal

Subject can regenerate at an incredibly fast rate, although healing slows down with loss of consciousness. Shows a similar mutation to John Abbott; able to detect illnesses by specific smells. The latter mutation causes the Cadou to have adverse reactions, causing internal damage that is however kept at bay with the regenerative abilities.

An unfit vessel for Eva.

[meryamthebadassbitch]

𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘑𝘦𝘳𝘬 || 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳

Soon on Wattpad~

"Do you have one of the Parasites like your dad used to have?" asked Mrs. Chen the girl who paid for the snacks, eyes wide she shook her head in disagreement before stepping out of the store

PARASITE?!

"it's not my fault, dad used to call you that man just don't kill her she can give us a lot of free food you know and you can have extra brains when they always rob her poor store?" "Fine, we'll let it slide" "what do you wanna do?" "We can do whatever WE want" chuckling slightly she nodded making her way upstairs to the rooftop, sitting at the edge with venom beside her they both ate the Pack of chocolate in silence, sure, she was terrified finding out about a symbiote living inside her body just like her father after protecting herself from some scientist, but for these past years she got used to it and they were more like best friends and if something happened to Venom it's like happening to her.

𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠-

Making her way toward the bathroom, attempting to hide from those Men but a voice inside her head made her scream in fear, hiding inside one of the stalls she stared into nothing but emptiness staying quiet as if a serial killer was following her, shaking in fear she tried not to sob out loud by putting her hand on her mouth a drop of a tear falling to the ground as the 10-year-old girl cried in silence with her hands still shaking, the sound of the bathroom stalls being slammed open made her heart stop beating as she started praying for her life, she was going to die that's for sure.

The next thing she knew was the lock breaking and her being pulled harshly by 2 men, screaming in fear she tried biting their hands off but the guns aimed in her head was worse, in a blink of an eye black tentacles came out of her arms and stabbed both of them in the heart, a pool of blood surrounded her as she watched in fear at what she has just done, she just killed two men trying to kidnap her, blood on her white shoes and arms as she tried to open the door and make her way out of this hell hole, but it was the same thing instead this time a group pointed their guns at her as she looked around in search of a place to run away, giving up she sat on the ground putting her hands in the air as told letting the 'police' handcuff her, she's just a 10-year-old girl what possibly could she do?

"mom! please I am begging you to tell them to let me go, we were supposed to be having a girls' night! I promise I didn't kill those men something came out of my arm and-" she couldn't finish her words, Tears welled from deep inside and coursed down her cheeks as she begged her mother for help with a high pitched voice, Anne on the other side stared at her with a guilty look before shaking her head, staring at her in disbelieve she was brutally pulled by the handcuffs away giving her mother one last look.

Did she stay in an Asylum for 8 years without seeing her 'mother' and outside? yes sadly she did, did she get out of the asylum once? no, she never did and that was driving her crazy she was the only one in here and everyone was afraid of her, this place wasn't like any other asylum they brought people with superpowers here, like Eleven from stranger things except Mery didn't have Telekinesis she had Venom.

Sitting in the chair defeatless with an emotionless look on her face, her hands tied to the table, as always, she stared at Anne straight in her eyes "Mery-" "hey doctor, can you please open these handcuffs and let me go back to my room before I do something?" she finally said looking straight into the camera about to transform into the big giant monster when a syringe was on her neck preventing her from doing so, 'how dare she says my nickname' she thought looking straight into her eyes after 8 years of not seeing each other how would you feel and how can she still manage to say her nickname, especially when your own mother is the reason you're looked in here "I Hate you and you don't deserve to be called a mother!" she yelled out struggling from their grip, black tentacles came out of her back as she grabbed every single scientist killing them with no mercy, "Venom, let's get the hell out of here" her voice deadly as she spoke "Copy, you're the boss" just as Anne described she looked just like her father, huge teeth, white eyes, and a long tongue.

𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠-

"Don't open that door"

"Bitch, Don't order me to do something because you will die waiting?" she said with the usual level of sarcasm before taking off her apron making her way toward the door, what was shitty about this house was it didn't have a peephole, rolling her eyes she opened the door staring at the group in front of her "May I help you?" asked the girl in confusion to why the Avengers are in front of her apartment with a raised eyebrow the Black haired girl was about to close the door when black widow finally said a word after 10 seconds of silence "we need to talk to you?" "Listen, I don't have time to deal with superhero shit I've had enough" "please?" sighing she pushed the door fully letting them in sitting on the couch in front of them with her legs crossed "what?" "Can you introduce us to who you were talking to?" asked Captain America looking at her, raising her eyebrows once again, it was a habit sometimes she bites her nails "were you listening to us the whole time?" "no-" "Jesus, y'all are so famous and busy with superhero shit to the point where you don't understand a joke, Venom can you come out please?" annoyed, a black face appeared beside hers, that was the Parasite living inside her body?

"don't touch it, everyone this is Venom my best buddy and a parasite living inside my body, Her favorite food is brains and chocolate and we both kill robbers every day" putting a fake smile on her face she could see the look on their eyes, Bruce wanting to touch it so badly but stopped when Meryam sent him a look of disagreement, "alright this it, you guys can go, it was lovely meeting you, y'all are awesome superheroes and bye-bye!" "would you like to come with us we need your help, please?" asked Thor holding his hammer, glancing at Venom they both nodded at the same time, they were partners in crime anyways.

"We will but I'm coming alone, see ya at the Tower!" smiling she slammed the door shut

"Can you imagine Thor the god of thunder asking me to come with them, that is awesome right?" "not as awesome as us" nodding with a grin she grabbed her pocket knife charging the gun just in case tying her hair into a bun, putting on the mask Meryam grabbed the bag making her way out of the room.

"Hey miss Chen came to have some supplies?" stated the girl making her way toward the snack session she was probably the only customer here, the threatening sound of another robber echoed around the store as he pointed his gun at the poor woman, "That guy?" "yes bestie, free food for you tonight?" she said making her way toward the man, grabbing his wrist she punched him straight in the jaw, "Mask!" in a blink of an eye the same monster Mrs. Chen saw a long time ago was in front of her expect it was a woman, and that woman was Eddie Brock's daughter, Biting his head off she paid for the snacks before making her way out "night, thanks for the free snack!"

(venom ate the man, duh)

"This walk is boring!" "I know but we're almost there don't worry" "I Miss the Loser" "yeah, same he was the best dad" "and best Host, you both are the best" "aw thanks Venom you're the best too" a soft smile rose on her lips, The world was a better place when she smiled to Venom and he promised to Eddie he would keep her safe, thank god, she had her earphones on so people wouldn't call her crazy for talking by herself, "Jesus how many floors in this Tower?" "93"

"Excuse me is Tony Stark here, he said I can meet him here?" politely asking the blonde woman who was holding a little girl in her hand she took off her mask not to scare her, they didn't seem to recognize her right? "She's probably his wife" the voice of the symbiote echoed around her head as she nodded, "oh yes you must be Meryam, you seem kinda Familiar?" the blonde woman asked her, her heart stopped beating as soon as she said the last words, "o-oh really, who?" "oh never mind, you're so pretty by the way, I should probably go take Morgan to sleep Tony is having a meeting with the rest and they're waiting for you" "Yeah thank you?" "Pepper call me Pepper dear" nodding she waved at the little girl who had a cute smile on her face before making her way to where Pepper pointed

"Hey Old man, you wanted to meet us?" the same sound they heard 30 minutes ago echoed around the room earning their attention, chuckling at how startled they looked Meryam tried to hold her laugh while Venom was grinning evilly on the other side, "Ahh miss Brock come in" "it's Meryam, Anthony" okay that surely got him annoyed she could see how he rolled his eyes, sitting down on one of the chairs she looked around greeting the rest with a straight look.

"Tell us more about yourself?" not wanting to tell them her whole story, she shook her head with an emotionless look on her face "there's nothing more to know about me, I lived 13 years alone that's it, my life is useless anyways I only have Venom and kill robbers nothing more interesting?" one thing they learned about her was how fast she changed her emotions, 5 seconds ago she was trying not to laugh and now a deadpan look on her face. Pietro didn't trust her, not even a single bit and that was why a glare was attached to his stupid face

"So Meryam we're going to be on a mission for these past days and since you have nothing to do, you're going to catch the robbers around the city and take Morgan to school" tearing her gaze away from Pietro who was still glaring she blinked slightly trying to process what he just said, "excuse me, am I getting paid for that?" "yes" "fine, I'll do it, and will you stop glaring at me like I am some target?" her Black eyes met his as she spoke with gritted teeth's, anger rushing through her body Wanda slapping his shoulder before apologizing to her "I am so sorry Meryam-" "it's alright Wanda don't apologize in his place, he just needs to stop and do it all by himself if he's a true man, good night everyone" with that she made her way out of the place trying to calm her nerves down

Anger Issues

"Ohh she got you good" Teased Sam the twin who was still fuming in anger, rage thrummed through his veins as he swallowed down his frustration sending him a harsh look, "shut up birdy" with that he was out of sight just before Clint could say something

"oh these two are not going to be friends or work together, it's probably something worse"

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

[woodsteingirl]

A case in suburbia, domestic dynamics, and a forever home. What could go wrong?

the moment i’ve been waiting for! chapter one is up now! read here or under the cut.

Cas and Dean were searching for a forever house. They had been pretty much since Cas got back from the empty. They were ready to distance themselves from hunting. Dean had always wanted a sort of suburban, white picket fence life, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone. And since he already admitted how he truly felt to Cas, why not throw his need for a domestic lifestyle into the mix. Cas was all for it. Ever since Jack had given up most of his powers to Amara, thus causing her to take his place as God and him almost human, Cas had been hoping for a place to raise him like a normal child. The bunker was great for hunting and a place for Cas, Dean, and Sam, but not so much for raising a 5-year-old kid.

House hunting had been a burden to bear, but they were making out alright. Up till this, they’d looked at about 3 other houses. They were all a no for different reasons. The first one Cas decided was in a school district that wouldn’t be good for Jack, the second didn’t have a big enough garage or backyard, and the third didn’t have enough bedrooms for all of their family to stay. With the whole credit card scam they’d been running for as long as they remember, budget wasn’t really a problem, but they didn’t want something extravagant.

There it was, 538 Chapel Street in Pine River Crossings. It wasn’t too far out of Lawrence, only a few hours' drive, and all the houses looked nice. Very cookie cutter, but that was sort of the appeal. They couldn’t guarantee that they would fit in with the traditional, upper middle-class people, but what the hell, if they could kill god they could take suburbia.

A few days passed, and they were set up to look at the home. They drove the hour and a half to the next medium-sized town with the belief in their minds that this was the one. It had all they needed, a two-car garage, a respectable school district, and two guest bedrooms. They were so caught up in this concept they made the mistake of not checking the news for the nearby areas. Once they arrived, a realtor who showed them around the dwelling greeted them. It was all they could ask for and more practically too good to be true, especially for people like them. The actual presentation of the house went over without too many problems. The person exhibiting the residence commented on how it had been on display for almost a month now, which was the first red flag. A house as nice as this, in a densely populated area, would usually not be on the market for that long in weeks unless there was some hidden con.

They signed on it not a day after seeing the house in person. It was all set up and they could officially start moving stuff in the next week. They officially shared the good news with everyone the day after they signed. Sam was beyond happy for them. Not only would he finally have a space to himself, he was proud of his brother for living the life he’d always wanted. Jack was thrilled that he would get to go to actual school and have friends that were his age and not cosmic entities. In the meantime, Cas did more research into the neighborhood. There was their hidden con. The newspaper Cas had pulled up on his phone said, “Local Couple Murdered in Own Home.”

“Dean, look at this.”

Okay, that was a setback. A murderer on the loose in the neighborhood they were moving into was not exactly what he had planned, but he had delt with worse. “Alright, that could be a problem.”

“I think it’s a little bigger than a problem,” Cas retorted.

“Is it our type of thing or just something local law enforcement could deal with?”

Cas read on in the article, “the couple was stabbed, there was no sign of forced entry, neighbors reported nothing amiss besides lights flickering before the murder. The weapon, as well as the perpetrator, was never found. No official suspects have been labeled, everyone has seemed to have an alibi.”

“It definitely sounds like our thing. Lights flickering, no breaking and entering, and all.”

They decided they could pose as residents, as it seemed perfectly normal for the newcomers to be concerned about the literal murderer on the loose. Since Cas was newly human, and Jack was, well, 5, Dean thought they might need outside help. Being out of practice to spend more time with your husband and child really had its fallbacks. Sam was off the table as backup. He was out of town and Dean didn't want to interrupt his first weekend without him in god knows how long. Plus, they needed someone who wouldn't draw too much attention to their family dynamic.

“Hey, Cas, what do you think about calling in Claire to help us with this one? You think she’d do it?”

“Calling her in for help is a good idea, whether or not shed actually do it is another question.”

“I’ll call and ask, and if she wants to help, and if not then I can think of something else.”

He kept his promise and called Claire not an hour later. He decided it might be best not to tell her it was undercover work, or that it was taking place in a white picket fence neighborhood, as that might turn her off from it almost immediately.

“Hey Claire, its been too long since we’ve talked,” he started.

“Hi Dean. what do you want, there’s no way you’re just calling to catch up if you’re starting with ‘its been too long.’”

“You got me there. I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me and Cas on a hunt. Its not too far from the bunker and we’d have you back home in a week.”

“Sure, that works. When do we start?” She hadnt seen Dean and Cas since they rescued Cas. That was over a month ago, she’d been meaning to visit, but she’d been so busy with hunting, and getting to know Kaia again now that she was finally back. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to reconnect and not miss out on anything too big back at home.

“If you could come down here by Wednesday, that’d be great.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” She was tempted to sign off with an ‘I love you’ but she was never a lovey-dovey person in that way.

On tuesday she promised Jody she’d be extra careful and would be back in under a week. Kaia told her to make sure to call every day and update her on what was happening. Claire agreed, promising to keep in touch. She spent the rest of the day driving down to Kansas.

Back on Dean and Cas’s end, they were trying to get the house set up for 4 people when they had no furniture prior to this. Cas had always loved furniture shopping even before he had a use for it. When he worked at the Gas-and-Sip, he would browse the home improvement magazines in his spare time. Dean was pretty much the opposite. He had never had reason to care for it, so he didn't. Maybe his hatred for Swedish furniture was rooted in his deep-seated commitment issues. It didn't matter much why he hated it, he just left most of the choices up to Cas. there was then the issue of appliances and such you couldn't find in a furniture store. That was left up to him. Cas sent him out to Walmart to get things for the kitchen. That was something he could do. He picked out a mixer, some silverware, and a pioneer woman kitchenware set. It came with pots and pans, mixing bowls, and a few normal sized plates. That was enough for him to consider it an absolute steal. He brought his finds home to the bunker, setting them on the table designated for things that were to go in the new house. Jack was sitting on Cas’s lap, pointing at things on the computer.

“What’re you guys finding?” Dean asked, hovering behind Cas’s shoulder.

“Djungelskog!” Jack exclaimed, showing Dean a photo of a large stuffed brown bear.

“I thought you were looking for furniture?” Dean directed the question more at Cas, but he was still looking at Jack.

“We are. Jack just got us a bit sidetracked. We found the majority of what we need. Among other things not of as grave importance.”

Dean looked over the shopping cart and then gave the go ahead. Not before adding the stuffed bear to the cart, though.

The next day Claire arrived. Everyone was thrilled to see her. Jack ran up and threw himself around one of her legs and Cas gave her an awkward dad side hug. Dean wondered when he would tell her what the hunt would actually consist of, but he didn't want to interrupt the moment.

A few hours later, Dean fixed everyone a real dinner and had them sit down at the kitchen table. The realization dawned on him that this was going to be his last sit down meal officially living in the bunker. Everyone sort of just sat in silence for a beat. Perhaps reflecting on their own lasts of officially living there. “Claire, I sorta forgot to add this when I called you, but the case is a lot of undercover work. Also its in a suburban area.”

“And why didn't you tell me this sooner?”

“Well to speak freely, I wanted you on this case and I was worried it would make you not want to come.”

“It almost does, but i'm already here now, and i wouldn't want to waste a days driving on something i'm not actually going to do.” She guessed this would probably take longer than a week. “And i'm guessing this isn't just something you decided to do out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“We bought a house in the area, and we just wanted to make sure it was safe,” Cas explained.

“Hang on, you bought a house for real and you didnt even think to tell me? You didn't think that that was valuable information?”

“It didn't come up in our phone call,” Dean said.

“And? That’s no excuse to leave your daughter out of major life events!” The ‘daughter’ part just sort of came out without her noticing, but seconds after she said it she regretted it. God, how embarrassing.

“You’re right. We should’ve told you sooner. It was kind of a recent decision, though, so you haven’t been out of the loop for too long,” Cas said.

The next day was moving day. Dean loaded the appliances into the back of Claire’s car, since the back of the Impala was already full. Claire took her own car, while Dean, Cas, and Jack rode in Baby. Their real furniture was being delivered as they spoke. Cas offered to ride with Claire, but she assured him she’d be fine by herself. The drive wasn’t even that long, especially compared to the distance she drove yesterday.

Dean was silently nervous. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but it was written all over his face. His first real stable house, with the man he loved, and his two kids, he could only hope that he didn’t mess it up. Cas put a hand on his shoulder showing he saw how Dean was feeling.

They turned onto Chapel Street and pulled up into the driveway of the house. It somehow looked bigger and more daunting than it had during the walkthrough. Claire arrived almost ten minutes later. Everyone just sort of paused in front of the house for a minute, reveling in the stability most of them had never had.

[secret-ssociety]

Let me down pt.3

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Reader (platonically), Reader x oc

Warnings: I mean, in my eyes this is pure fluff, but who knows if it will hurt you

Summary: Peter and May have dinner with Y/N’s family, prompting a lot of questions to get an answer.

A/N: oKAY, I know that what happened wasn’t exactly what you expected and and it has taken me so long to write this but it's finally here. I want to thank you all, I never meant for this blow up like it did or to even become a series, honestly when I wrote the first part I was just in a really bad mood and I felt like writing something sad and that came out, but then people started to ask for a second part and well the rest is history. So yeah, I actually want to write even more parts to this so let me know if you would like it. Also, I tagged everyone who asked me to write more to this, but let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist

Masterlist

part one part two

Peter couldn't help but feel like his head was spinning as he walked back home from the metro that night. Claire had sat him down in her bed for almost an hour showing off all of her Avengers stuff. She had a replica of Thor's Mjolnir (and she knew how to pronounce it, which was even more impressing), she had the Spider-Man's Uno she had mentioned (it did make him kind of emotional to see a drawing of him on the package) and she had Iron Man's full suit.

Yeah, he did his best not to cry with the last one.

Even if she hadn’t ran up to you screaming ‘mommy’, he would’ve known that she was your daughter. Claire had your hair, your eyes, your nose, even when the rest of her tiny face was more like Mark’s. The corners of her eyes wrinkled the same way yours did when you smiled and she was as energetic as you, she got lost in her own thoughts just like her you used to do.

He had been counting the seconds to be out of your house and be able to break down on the guardianship of his loneliness, but when he found himself walking down the street after dinner... he just didn't.

Peter had gone to school that day being sure that as soon as he saw you, something would be okay, and even if it hadn't gone according to the plan, he hadn't been wrong. Something was okay: you were okay. You had a career, a good job, a loving husband, a perfect daughter, a beautiful family.

You had a great life and, most importantly, you were willing to welcome him in it, so yeah, maybe things were going to be okay.

So when Claire asked him to dinner with them again at the end of the week, and you said you wanted to say hi to May, he just couldn't refuse. That's how he ended up standing in front of your house again, with May by his side this time, holding a cherry pie they had placed and decorated on a plate as if to pretend they hadn't bought it from the grocery store.

As soon as the door opened, Peter handed the dessert to May, because he was prepared for the moment Claire jumped to his arms to greet him. You smiled openly at May, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes at the sight of the woman who had given you a place to call home everytime you felt like your own house was not it.

Both Peter and Mark noticed how you tried to keep your composure when her arms wrapped you in a warm embrace.

"Sorry, I'm a mess," you muttered in apology, trying to wipe your eyes without messing up your mascara.

"You look beautiful," May corrected, making your eyes wet all over again. "It smells amazing," she said suddenly, changing the subject to give you a chance to calm down, "what are you cooking?"

"Oh, I'm not cooking," you clarified rushing them inside, Peter still carrying the little girl in his arms, "Mark is. I somehow manage to burn the water."

"You could always make PB and jelly sandwiches," Peter said with an amused smile, earning a fond laugh from your lips, as if you shared an inside joke.

Only when Mark received the pie from May's hands did Peter notice that he was wearing a purple apron over his white unbuttoned shirt, and he couldn't help the sting in his heart at how perfect he was. He kindly apologized at the fact that the meat still needed a few more minutes on the oven, because he had been held back a little longer than expected at the office.

"What's that smell?" You asked, frowning.

"Daddy, the aspargaroos!" Claire exclaimed instantly, clearly unaware of how to pronounce asparagus, as she wiggled to let Peter know she wanted to be back on the ground. The tiny human ran behind her father into the kitchen, ready to do the damage control.

You decided to grab a bottle of white wine (and another Capri Sun for Peter) while her husband and daughter tried to resolve the asparagus crisis. He tried to pay attention to the conversation the two women in front of him were maintaining, but it was like they were talking in some foreign, alien, grown up language he couldn't understand.

This time, you took a little longer to finish your glass of wine than the last bottle you had opened, which had been a week ago when Peter had showed up in your doorstep. You were trying your best to hide your excitement talking to May, but you couldn't help the profound feeling of pride that took over your chest when you saw her eyes glimmer with amazement as they explored around the living room, where the pictures and prices of all of your family's accomplishments were displayed.

Peter was the first to notice Mark come out of the kitchen with a sheepish smile, "alright, so, the asparagus isn't salvageable, er, how do you feel about KFC salad?"

That's how they found themselves sitting at the round dinner table eating steak with a mushroom sauce Claired had been the one to think about, roasted potatoes and KFC salad, because apparently the always ordered some extra salad on their takeaways and stuffed them in the fridge.

"So..." May started, eyeing the young couple nervously. "There is so much to talk about. How... you... well..."

"How did I end married and with a kid at twenty three?" You finished for her, saving a sigh to yourself although you felt your husband tense a little beside you. The more you two heard that question, the more annoying it got, even when you knew May didn't mean to offend you.

Of course you knew you were young, and that many people your age couldn't handle such commitments, you didn't need people telling you that constantly. You had heard the same discourse from teachers, employers, even neighbors you had never talked to, it quickly got old and you tried not to become aggressive everytime you heard it.

Mark and you had a happy, healthy marriage, with a wonderful daughter that had brought light into a world as dark as yours was since the blip. You had good jobs that allowed you to have a stable economy and also take care of your family. You were happy, what else mattered? If you wanted opinions or needed help, you would certainly ask for it.

You never once had.

Still, you responded kindly, "well, we met in college, Princeton," you mentioned, earning two proud looks from your guests. "We were in different programs, so we met specifically through a praying group."

"That had never really been my thing," Mark picked up, "praying and all that God related talk bored me, but most of family and friends had been blipped... I was lonely. So I thought maybe I should give it a try."

"I honestly thought he had gone for the food, because when the meeting was over he looked like he hadn't understood a single word."

"Because I hadn't."

"A friend and I decided to come and talk to him, but after she left we hung out a little longer," you tried to hide the cheesy smile that took over your lips, but you looked over at Mark, who hasn't trying to hid his, and couldn't. "I don't know how to explain it, something about that moment just felt" you shrugged shyly "right."

The memories of you staying on the library, hiding behind the stacks of books so that no one would notice you trying to stay inside after it closed and talking the whole night long never failed to raise goosebumps along your skin. He would offer to read for you when your eyes got tired of working with the dim light that entered through the window, even when he was a law major and didn't understand a single word on the neuroscience and robotic books you were always studying.

It was soon after getting to know him, you just knew Mark had been made for you. There was something in the way you could see in his eyes that crowds freaked him out and that he tried not to cry after talking to his mom in the phone, something in the way he understood your whimpers in the days where anything above a mutter was just too much, that you knew this awkwardly tall curious guy was meant to cross your path.

"Things moved pretty fast after that," you continued, hoping you hadn't zoomed out for too long, "like 'we got married eight months after' fast."

May did her best to hide her surprise, while Peter choked on the salad. Was listening to your loving tone as you told the story easy? No, not at all. He wanted to throw up. Peter was still hopelessly in love with you, even when you were now five years older, even when you had a husband and a child, even when it was ridiculous and impossible, because for him it hadn't been years, it just had been months.

"Claire came soon after that," Mark concluded after pouring some more juice on Peter's glass and asking him if he was okay. "And all of this happened throughout college?"

"We had a really good support system," he nodded, smiling down at Claire, who had made a mess over her chicken sandwich. "A really good amount of friends willing to babysit whenever we had to work, understanding teachers who let us bring Claire to our lectures. My mom and Y/N's parents were also a great help."

"We were both on scholarships that gave us some allowances to support ourselves each month, too," you added. "It wasn't much, but it helped."

"And what are you working on now?" May switched to a conversation that would probably be easier on her nephew.

"Well, Mark is an associate on a buffet in Manhattan," you said grabbing your husband's hand. "What's your approach?" Peter asked, somewhat genuinely curious.

"Environmental law," he replied proudly.

"And I-"

"Mommy builds robot limbs!" Claire exclaimed excitedly, prompting a laugh on the others.

"Before I graduated, I got a job as lab assistant on a research for neuro prosthetics," you explained, "and after graduating, they hired me as researcher. Basically what we're trying to do is to create a non-invasive implant we can connect to the brain and spinal cord that controls robotic prosthetics for people who have lost limbs or return movement to paralyzed body sections."

Peter's skin prickled at the description of the research, for it was one he had known before it all went crumbling down. A memory flashed through his eyes, Tony helping his friend walk after he had been injured in Germany, on his first mission.

"That's..."

"A Stark Industries' research, yes," you nodded solemnly.

"Y/N told me you had an internship with Tony Stark before... it all happened," Mark commented carefully. Peter's head practically snapped in his direction, then, more subtly, in yours. You shook head slightly, almost imperceptibly, but clearly enough to let Peter know you hadn't told his secret.

"You met Tony Stark?" Claire asked him with a bright light in her eyes, one that Peter had seen thousands of times on other kids that, very much like himself, dreamt every night of robots and technologies that could change the world.

"Yes."

"How was he?"

Peter thought for a few seconds about his answer. What was Tony Stark? He was charming, sure, but he wasn't exactly friendly. He was a genius, yet he had never let that cloud his judgement. He had trouble expressing himself, but he always made sure the people around knew how much they meant to him. Suddenly Peter understood why Shakespeare was always making up words, there were just some things, some people, the english language wasn't extensive enough to describe, so he said the best he could come up with.

"He was the most amazing guy I ever met."

You smiled down at your nearly empty plate, it was impossible to forget how much had mr. Stark meant for Peter. Even when you guys broke up and cut off all communication, you still prayed for him to always be under the wing of his mentor. You couldn’t imagen what it was like for Peter to live in a world where Tony Stark was no longer there to help him walk through life.

Hopefully, you would be able to do that in his absence.

taglist: @eridanuswave @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @lovely-geek @princessdancingonthesunshine​ @marvel4geeks​ @hedwigprewett12​ @dummiesshort​ @alyssasanchezz14​ @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme​

[toutallyahoe]

Want And Need ~ Gavin Reed (DBH)

requested by: --

pairing(s): gavin reed x male reader, tina chen x male reader

warnings: cursing, drinking alcohol, angst, unrequited love

a/n: this had been in my drafts for months or 2018 to be more accurate lmao and now i finally finished it asfahaksjad anyways, been awhile since i written for dbh

and some... uhh... stuff

so enjoy! :D

"What? You're going already?" Tina couldn't help but chuckle as she nodded her head, sending her brunet friend a smile as she stood up from the chair she sat.

"Yeah," Tina said as she then shrugged when Gavin sent her an annoyed look. "Wish I could hang more but [Name] wanted to take me out for dinner."

Gavin rolled his eyes at the black haired woman turned her head to the doorway to see the said male she was talking about with the brunet detective. [Name] was leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed on his chest. A small grin on his lips as he saw Tina spotted him.

"And speak of the devil, there he is now," Tina had laughed as she gave a small wave from the [Hair color] haired male who sent her a grin.

"Hey, you two!" [Name] had joyfully greeted as he approached the two. [Name] slung his arms around both the twos' neck as he peck the black haired female's cheek and then sent Gavin a smile. "Missed you guys so much!" The [Hair color] haired man had chuckled as Gavin let out a groan as he drank his drink.

"Speak of the devil indeed," Gavin had groaned as he sent a small glare at the other man who only chuckled while the female grinned.

"Awe, you didn't missed me, Gav?" Gavin rolled his eyes as he saw [Name] pout.

"Miss you? You gone was the best hours of my life," Gavin huffed as he then continued on. "And stop calling me "'Gav,' damn it!"

Tina couldn't help but chuckle as [Name] had his arms retracked back towards him, freeing the two. "Now, now boys. Stop being six year olds and make up," Tina had teased as Gavin sent her an annoyed glare.

"Fuck off, Chen," Gavin spat as the said female laughed as the [Hair color] haired man had ruffled Gavin's hair who in turn cursed him then.

"Anyways," [Name] had trailed off as he raised his wrist to looked at his watch. "We better be going now, love," [Name] had finished as he turned his gaze to Tina and lovingly smiled when he saw her nodded her head and took her coat from the chair beside her.

Softly smiling, Tina looked back at the brunet sitting beside her who raised his glass and drank the alcoholic contents. Patting the male's shoulder as she bid her good bye. "Well, we gotta go, Gav. See you tomorrow at the precinct!" Tina had said as she walked towards the door's of the bar, turning her head to see [Name] patting Gavin's back and bid his good bye as well.

"Don't drink too much, Gavin," [Name] had said as he sent the brunet detective a small smile.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now go and have a fun," Gavin had said as he shooed the [Hair color] haired man away, sending a smirk as he did. "Not too much fun, though!" He had hollered which caused [Name] to chuckle with a faint blush on his cheeks and had Tina yelled Gavin's name in disbelief as she then laughed and flip him off. The said male merely returned the gesture with a grin.

"Have fun you two!" The brunet bid as he saw [Name] had began walking towards Tina who waited for him in the entrance of the pub. Their hands intertwined then when the [Hair color] haired man had finally arrived beside the asian female as they then  walked out the club together. Leaving behind Gavin who's smile faded as he watched the two.

The brunet turned his gaze in front of him as his hands clutched the glass on his hands hard as he grit his teeth. He then emptied the contents of alcohol from his glass by downing it in one go. The acidic taste of alcohol going down his throat as he slammed the glass on the counter.

"Jim! Get me more!" Gavin had ordered as the bartender only nodded his head and did what the brunet had said. Filling Gavin's glass with whiskey as the male had then immediately drank it. "Another!"

  

Drunk out of his ass, Gavin was now on his apartment where he sat at the red velvet couch and groaned out from the pain he was feeling with his head aching. "Fuck, I shouldn't have drank to much," Gavin had muttered to himself as he rubbed his temple. The brunet already regretting his choices as he sat there.

Gavin let out huff and was about to sleep on the couch when a meow beside him had took his attention. Turning where his cat was, the feline had merely looked at their owner almost judgingly as they then went back to laying comfortably beside the drunk male.

Gavin stopped rubbing his aching head and just stared blankly at in front of him. A sigh left his lips. "God... I'm such a fucking mess..." Gavin muttered to himself as a frown on his lips, wondering how he came to be.

"Oh right, it was with him..." The brunet had softly said as he remembered what happened a few days back.

"Saturday, six o'clock at my place?" [Name] had said as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. A small, nervous smile on his lips as the female in front of him giggled.

"Sure thing, [Name]," Tina said as she punched the [Hair color] haired man's shoulder. "Better be fun," Tina giggled as she saw [Name] sent her a beaming smile.

"Trust me, I'll make sure it will be."

Not to far away from the two, Gavin turned around and began walking away. Passing by a trash can where he immediately threw the movie he had bought for their hang out, he gritted his teeth as his vision began to blur. The scene replaying on his mind made his heart clench in pain.

"The fuck was I fooling?" The brunet had muttered to himself as his hands balled into a fist. His knuckles turning white from the action.

"Of course he wouldn't fucking like me like that way," Gavin weakly chuckled to himself as his vision blurred a bit from the upcoming tears that were threatening to fall down his face. "Who was I fooling...?"

 

Gavin gritted his teeth as he remembered that awful memory. The memory where he was ready to tell what he felt to the [Hair color] haired man only to see him asking another friend of his out for a date.

'The worst part was I didn't even got a fucking chance.' The brunet male grit his teeth as his vision began to blur. Gripping the hem of his shirt as he felt his heart clench at remembering the sign him was pinning onto her and the black haired female doing the same.

"God... I'm such an dumbass..." Gavin said to himself as he bit back the sob threatening to escape his lips. His heart clenched painfully from realizing he never, truly had a chance.

"Oh my fucking God! Reed what the fuck?!?" The [Hair color] haired man had screamed as he was on the ground, drenched with the warm coffee he was drinking awhile ago. The brunet merely laughed at the [Hair color] haired man as he clutched his stomach from the pain of laughing too much.

"O-oh my G-god! You s-should've seen your f-face! Priceless!" Gavin rasped out as he wiped a tear from his eyes, having the time of his life the brunet was. [Name] merely rolled his [Eye color] eyes in annoyance as wiped the coffee off his face.

"Yeah, yeah, it was fucking hilarious. Thanks asshole," [Name] had said as he sent the still laughing male a glare. Gavin only sent him a wink as he walked away laughing.

"You love this asshole though!" The brunet had shouted as he walked out the break room to go and get the [Hair color] haired man an extra shirt to wear since he was drenched with the coffee he was drinking awhile ago.

When Gavin had returned with the extra shirt, he saw the new female recruit helping out his friend and partner. The brunet frowned a bit when he saw the female giving the [Hair color] haired man a smile as the male seemed to be flustered a bit. As he watched the two exchange words, Gavin felt really bad about something.

"Hi, I'm Tina Chen." The female, Tina, had said with a smile on her lips as she held her hand towards the [Hair color] haired man who grinned as he grabbed and shook the black haired female's hand.

"Nice to meet you officer Chen. Name's [Name] [Last name]."

Gavin forced himself to try and forget the memories of him pinning over his friend. He tried to desperately forget about them but it always came back. Haunting the brunet in a never ending cycle.

'This was so unfair. So fucking unfair.' Gavin thought as the tears fell down his eyes. Looking at his ceiling, the brunet detective remembered [Name] being so happy when he told the news his date with Tina went well.

Gavin remembered [Name] smiling so happily as he told him that he was in love with the female officer. That this was the first time he felt so strongly with someone.

"I never stood a chance," Gavin weakly chuckled to himself. "How fucking pathetic," Gavin continued as he cried.

Gavin Reed wanted [Name] [Last name]. His partner in crime (both literally and figuratively), his best friend. But he can't have the [Hair color] haired man as when Gavin wanted him— Tina Chen, a friend and fellow officer, needed [Name]. The two were made for each other and they both made each other happy.

The brunet detective remembered Tina being more optimistic in the DPD precinct. More happy to go to work and would come towards him to ask questions on [Name]'s likes and dislikes. The [Hair color] haired man's hobbies and what he looks for a significant lover.

Gavin saw that Tina was making an effort with the courting [Name] was doing for her. Doing things for the [Hair color] haired man aswell like surprising [Name] with his favorite foods or having movie dates in their day offs.

Gavin saw they were making their relationship worth it and he couldn't help but feel happy for them both. No matter how much it hurts him— Gavin Reed merely wanted the [Hair color] haired man. While Tina Chen needed [Name].

And that's where Gavin knew the difference between want and need.

[miamistax]

Found on Facebook

I was 30 years old.

I was married.

We were happy.

We were established.

Our 401k runneth over.

We decided to start a family.

I got pregnant right away.

Like right away.

We were over the moon.

I kept a journal of every day of the magic.

I got a bump.

I felt our baby kick.

I embraced it fully.

I rejected tests because "it won't change our path"

Emily sent out baby shower invitations.

The nursery was under way.

And then.

I'm almost halfway there!

I'm 18 and a half weeks pregnant.

The doctor called.

It was 7pm.

I was out at dinner with my friend Deb.

I stepped outside.

The day before on a whim I agreed to a blood test.

"There's probably nothing to worry about but we need you to come in. There's a 1 in 36 chance something is wrong"

I called Liza sobbing.

My sister told me to lay out 36 straws and see that there's still such a good chance that everything is fine.

I didn't sleep.

We drove up to Forsyth because that was the first available amniocentesis.

The needle was long.

The room was dark.

The news was really bad.

I changed in that moment forever.

It's a girl!

We had named her Audrey.

Audrey Roesel -- the girl who will make me a mom.

She was missing her nasal bone.

Her kidneys were tiny.

Her heart was missing a chamber.

She had an extra chromosome.

Part of her brain wasn't formed.

Her head was growing at a rate 4x faster than her limbs.

I want to be a mom.

This is my girl.

This situation could really hurt my body.

She will be in immeasurable pain.

I didn't understand "incompatible with life"

I cried.

I cried some more.

I was already a mom.

Moms keep their children from pain.

Time is ticking.

I'm 19.5 weeks now.

We are in Georgia.

There's a time limit, you know.

It's Labor Day now.

Doctors go on vacation.

Somehow the world around us keeps on.

Not for me.

In the interest of time...

They sent me to an abortion clinic.

Me.

At an abortion clinic.

After 20 weeks, it's illegal, you know.

It's the night before.

I ran a bath.

I said goodbye to my daughter in that tub.

Just the two of us before the world turned upside down.

Did you know...

You have to go 2 days in a row?

1 to dilate

1 for a D&E

It was brutal emotionally.

It hurt physically.

I begged to be put under.

A kind doctor took my hand.

His hands were large and warm.

He told me I would be a mom one day.

He was an angel.

I woke up in a group recovery room.

In a recliner. Next to a young girl. Maybe 13. She was also recovering. I took her hand.

My milk came in.

Nobody told me.

It hurt in my body and my soul.

I grieved. Hard.

For months and months.

I held onto a teddy bear the size of a newborn.

I ached everywhere inside and out.

It was a fluke they said.

Fast forward four months.

Pregnant again.

Scared.

Excited.

First ultrasound.

Baby’s gone.

Go to the hospital for D&C.

This is also considered abortion.

They tested the tissue.

it was a boy!

Chromosomes were normal.

Isn’t that good news?

Grief ensued.

So did genetic testing B and me.

I’m not ashamed.

I never was.

I’m what abortion looks like.

So is the 13 year old girl in that recovery room.

In Texas we’d be criminals.

Access to safe abortion is a woman’s right.

And abortion is a decision to be made between a woman, her doctor, her family, and her god.

...Not a majority white male cohort of politicians with a false sense of morality.

And your judgement?

It matters not.