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militaryapple · 1 month ago

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I WON'T BITE.

synopsis. you find caleb up late at night watching some video, turns out youre into it as much as he is.

cw. fem!reader , sub!caleb, degradation, p in v (stay protected girliepops), oral (giving), whiny caleb, unaware voyuerism, masturbation, usage of ‘baby’ ‘princess’, dog in heat caleb, light bdsm, caleb is so pathetic

add ons. i heard people like whiny caleb so lets see if thats true, thanks for 600 pipsquirters hehe

wc. 2.4k

sometimes, when you're quiet enough you hear something in caleb's room. you were always scared to check out what exactly he was doing - due to the door either being shut and locked or it sounding intense so you didn't want to disturb him. after all, curiosity did kill the cat and this time you didn't want to be the cat.

it wasn't until one faithful night, you were supposed to be sleep but the rustling of the tree's and the sound of the rain dawned down on you. it was hard to sleep with all the noise, and frankly you knew that just closing your eyes and counting to 100 wasn't going to get you anywhere.

you tip-toed your way to the kitchen, trying to be as silent as you can. you thought maybe, caleb was sleep soundly. his dreams overtaking his mind while the sounds of pouring rain and trees clashing together soothed him. you could only envy how much of a deep sleeper he was.

going into the fridge you grabbed cold water, gulping it down before brushing past caleb's room to get to the living room. if you can't sleep, you might as well watch some TV. you could pass time and ignore the rumbling of the thunder and the brightness of the lightning that only flashed seconds after each grumble.

that was, until you heard a faint noise from caleb's room. at first it was suspicious to you, then your interest grew. you crept gently towards the rustling room and looked at the door. it was open enough for you to peek in, which was new at a time like this. at this time, his door would be shut. keeping both you and any possible intruders out while a little sign hung from his door going "OUT OF SERVICE COME BACK LATER" as a sign that he was either asleep, busy or away.

but there was no sign, and there was an open door.

you couldn't help but peek in, looking around the room. you could make out the sight if you squinted. it was caleb, he was on his phone. he stared down at it so intently, while two headphones plugged his ear from any and all sounds. his face flushed a pink, and his body jolted in the way your eyes didn't adjust to yet.

so you leaned in, inspecting the shadow-figure of caleb. deciphering every movement of his. that's when you saw it. his hands grabbed around his cock, pumping it at a pace which made his lips spill with whimpers and low muffled moans from the cotton of his shirt that filled his mouth. his arms flexing with every thrust and his eyes rolling back while he gathered a steady pace for himself.

your face felt hot, and your body lingered with a feeling of warmth. you legs involuntarily shuffling to squeeze your thighs together as you drunk up the sight of him. you pushed the door slightly, trying to get a closer view - but Caleb was quick to perk up looking straight at your shadow.

he scrambled to get himself put together, pulling up his clothes and jumping up out of his bed. he moved towards you quickly, his breath heavy as his chest heaved up and down. "pips," he chirped, "uh, ha, 'whaddya doing up at a time like this? miss me haha? here let me go to the bathroom and we can watch something okay? you can pick the movie." not letting you get a word out he shuffled past you and headed for the bathroom obviously embarrassed from just thinking you saw anything.

and you saw everything.

you moved in his room, noticing the phone that sat on his bed. you picked it up and settled down on his bed, typing in your birthday which is obviously his pass code, and looking through his phone. you stumbled on the website he was on, looking at it. oh. oh. you watched as the women degraded the men they had. how easy it was for these women to make their boyfriends get down and do what they want. was that what caleb was into? it was definitely different then what you two usually did.

heavy footsteps filled the room as it got closer to caleb’s room. you scrolled, ignoring them until you heard a “hey,” at the doorway. you looked up, caleb stood there. dumbfounded almost. he walked over to you with his hand out, asking for his phone back. and you just stared.

“do you want to do this?” you asked, setting the phone down on the bed, he tried to reach for it and you pulled it away. “give me my phone, pips.” he said softly, avoiding your eyes. you sucked your teeth, putting the phone in your shirt, placing it safely between your bra and your chest. caleb could only stand up, his eyes looking down in embarrassment.

the visual being almost eye candy for you. you stood up and grabbed his face, forcing his eyes to look at yours. “what’s the matter big guy? why are you acting shy now? you were just palming yourself to the thought of me practically calling you a stupid mutt.” his eyes flickered from your face, to your chest then to the floor. he let out a low whine from your words, his hands shaking.

“it’s okay,” you coo’d softly, caressing his face gently before moving your hand away. smack. your hands swiftly made their way across caleb’s cheek — looking up at him. he let out a moan, his body tensing. shame waved over his face, while his head turned away from you. with that, you looked down at his pants.

he got hard from that.

it only made you scoff, looking up at him almost laughing. “are you serious? did you just get fucking hard? off a slap? you really are a pathetic dog.” your eyes rolling — you scanned his body for any signs for you to stop, for a sign that you’re over-doing it, yet there was nothing. just to make sure, you turned. your hair swaying as you started to make your way to his door. “it’s late, you should get some slee - ” before you could finish you felt something grab your arm, you turned your head and it was caleb.

his eyes were doozy. he looked at you like he needed you, his face red but avoiding you and your eyes like it was plague. “you can’t — you can’t just leave me like this baby, please.” he whined. it was like music to your ears. you swatted his hand away and moved closer to him. pushing him on his bed.

your hands rubbed against the fabric of his sweats, glancing and grazing against his boner. “say it then, baby. come on, tell me how much you want me to call you names,” your lips finding his neck, and then his face. he tasted sweet - and his face was beautiful. his hips rolled at the feeling of your hands, small whimpers falling off his lips. “how you want me to make you feel oh-so-good.” you were teasing him, being cruel to him, yet it felt so exhilarating.

caleb held on your waist, tugging softly. “please,” he begged. “please make me feel so fucking good, i’ll be a good boy i promise — i’ll — fuckfuckfuck your hand your hand,” he was practically slurring on his words, you backed away from his neck and looked at him. his body spread on the bed as you leaded close to him, your hand palming his clothed cock while he held you somewhat steady.

his whimpers made you soar. you didn’t know he could make such noises, while you also didnt know you could be this mean to him. “my hand? what is it? puppy’s ‘gonna cum?” you coo’d. caleb’s gaze lingering on your hands while his hips squirmed and wiggled for more friction. he nodded his heads, hazed and dumbed.

“come on baby, you can cum for me.” you hum, in return caleb let out a guttural moan. his hips spurting while his now light-grey sweats stained with a darker color. you placed a kiss on the top of his forehead, then moved away from him. taking a step back you got down on your legs and spread his open slowly pulling down his waist band to reveal a throbbing cock.

“fuck caleb, you’re pathetic.” you groan, looking up at him before your mouth kissed the tip of his leaking head. “i wonder how many times you’ve gotten off to the thought of me doing this,” you hummed, fondling his balls while he whimpered, his eyes glossy. “how many times you’ve came to the thought of me using you for my pleasure, makes you feel real good, right?” you could see the tears form on his face as he nodded. “i’ve - ah mph, always thought of you doing this to me.” he whimpered.

you soon took him in your mouth, relaxing your jaw as you licked and sucked him. he was big, kissing the back of your throat while you sent vibrations through him. your head going at a steady pace as caleb held back the urge to take your head and absolutely demolish you. “oh god - you feel so good princess you do, really, i’ll be good for you - all good oh fuck,” he was stupid.

you picked up your pace, your hands now stroking him while you sucked him off. you could feel him tense, pounding in your mouth while you made him feel like heaven and earth combined.

“fuck, ‘m gonna cum is that okay? please? let me cum in your mouth please,” he looked down at you, his hands holding on your head while you hummed in approval. his hips pounding in your mouth, kissing every inch of your throat and violating you, his hips bucking before hearing a ‘pop!’

you opened your mouth, his tip leaking all over your face. “such a nasty dog.” you got up, wiping your face before holding his face, and opening his mouth kissing him with your cum filled lips. “taste yourself, don’t you taste so good?” you tease, moving on top of his lap.

“come on doggy, undress me.” you roll your eyes, and caleb takes no time doing as he’s told. he started with your shirt, pulling it up over you and kissing your neck, down to your breasts while his hands hovered over your bra undoing them. his hands wandering down to your pants, shuffling your shorts off before pulling a free hand up to fondle your tit.

“so fucking beautiful” he mumbled, licking and kissing over you. his busy hand making its way down to your pantie before you slap him away. “nuh uh, not yet baby. you wanna cum right? be a good fucking boy.” your words sharp, caleb moved his hands away and you took your panties off.

“you’re gonna watch me prep myself. no touching, got it?” caleb’s eyes glazed over you, and you got straight to work. your fingers pushing your panties over before they rubbed on your nub. you let out a gasp and a moan - rubbing yourself and using your slick to make it easier.

your hands moved at the rhythm of your hips, your other arm using caleb’s shoulder for balance. it was horrid for caleb — he wanted you bad, and he wanted you now. yet you teased him, making him watch while he suffered the feeling of you twitching and shaking on top of him.

you slipped a digit in your sobbing cunt, then another. in and out at a slow pace, then speeding up. moving towards caleb ear you moaned for him. begging for him to make you feel good and to take you like the good puppy he was. how good you felt whenever he touched you. it made him shudder. your hips grinding against his cock, and he pulled you closer.

“so fucking nasty,” you moaned, your slit rubbing against his cock, while you now had both hands hold on to him, digging your nails in his back. “you’re so fucking nasty caleb,” you groaned. “jerking off to me — fuckfuck, you must’ve thought i couldn’t hear you? you fucking tease.” you couldn’t take it anymore.

your hips moved up, and you aligned your cunt with his cock, slowly going down feeling his dick fill you up so nicely. “oh, stupid mutt,” you held his face, tears down his eyes while your gazed never strayed from his, “you make me feel so good, the only thing you’re useful for baby,” you coo’d kissing his face. “fuck fuck can you hurry up and move??”

he obliged, his hips thrusting up in down, filling you then making you empty, you cried out, biting down on his nape making him moan in reply. “i know , i know im nasty” he whined out, stuttering as he rocked himself on you. “you’re just so fucking pretty i can’t help it baby,” he cried out. his hands having a firm grip on your hips making you roll on him.

you bounced on him, marked him, you needed him — you needed him to make you feel whole. “nothing without me, you’re nothing without me and you know this.” your kisses moving towards his face then his lips, “say it, say you’re nothing without me caleb” you whined.

caleb’s hips bucked forward, flipping you over and pushing his hips as close as he could to you. fuck, your eyes rolled back. you could feel his cock kiss your cervix, kiss every little part of your cunt. “i’m nothing without you, i’m yours, i need you,” he groaned, his pace picking up as his hands rubbed small circles on your crying nub.

“that’s it baby” you coo’d “work me real nice, good boy — that’s how you make me feel good.” your praises sent him over the moon, his hips buffering and his balls slapping nicely against your cunt making you both twitch in pleasure. you could feel him tense as he leaned down placing kisses over you.

“i’m close, come on make me cum, make me feel good come on” you held on his face, looking at his eyes. he was truly a beautiful sight. “cum with me okay baby? yeah you can do that for me right?” you coo’d, caleb whined in agreement. his hips rutting against you, before he stopped and twitched. his seed spilling everywhere in you while you both panted and moaned.

you stared at caleb, his breath heavy and eyes swollen. his necklace dangling before you pulled on it, bringing him down for a kiss.

if you knew this is what he was into, you would’ve peeked in his room a loooong time ago.

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sexybritishllama · 2 years ago

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in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy

for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:

the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)

the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop

there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial

this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs

flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected

but, eventually, it opens!

well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?

the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?

as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:

only 10 items could be donated per day

points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each

this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless

r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win

people were Not Happy about this

not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least

however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.

i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already

because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day

BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.

this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them

so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison

it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION

So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring

#eloise talks #neopets #long post #neotag

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cryinggirlnamedhelen · 19 days ago

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For the ladies: need help picking a scenario for a woman to be in the Blue Lock facility without making them a stereotypical (Y/n)? I gotchu bbg.

SCENARIOS

note: all of the ocs/(yn)s here are all 15-19 (high school to first year of college age) depending on your preference.

1. A manager who does the same jobs as Anri but is much more involved personally with the players

- One way this could play out is someone who is a manager from another club or U20 team (ex; Bastard München) and is transferred to Blue Lock, whether it’s out of personal interest or a request from Ego. Either way, with her experience, she helps the players with ease and professional advice and also acts as a PR manager of sorts for them, and might even begin a romance with one of them.

- Another way is perhaps someone who is in desperate need of money and is willing to do anything for money. One day, she checks a sketchy website for new job offers with lots of money, and the new Blue Lock program hiring managers catches her eye. She instantly applies and gets in almost immediately, and helps out the players and Anri. She also might get into a love story with one of the players.

- Another way is someone who is an intern at the JFU (Japanese Football Union) and is assigned to work on Blue Lock with Anri, as the intern is only a teenager and Anri is a new hire and only 22 and fresh out of college. While Anri is helping out Ego more, the intern is helping out the players more while also learning more about herself, soccer, relationships, and love.

2. A nurse who checks the medical data of players and nurses them back to health during injuries or sickness.

- One way this scenario could play out is perhaps someone who is an aspiring doctor, and one way to train herself is to sign up for Blue Lock. She has enough medical knowledge to know what to do with common sicknesses like colds or fevers, and she knows how to deal with broken or fractured bones and more. She’s mostly learning how to truly have patients trust her, and she herself learns to fall in love.

- A daughter of a doctor who is called to Blue Lock, but her parent instead gives her the opportunity to help out at Blue Lock. Any plausible reason would be fine, but to not be too repetitive, I think that maybe something similar to being able to have a backup plan if she ever can’t go to college or doesn’t know what profession to chase could be a good reason for why she’s at Blue Lock.

3. A chef at the facility who is supposed to work in secret but is seen one night by a participant

- Okaaaaaaay so major Rin vibes here, but anyways she’s desperate for money so drops out of high school begins working at some random restaurant as a chef and just earns enough to barely get by. But one day, Ego visits the restaurant and hires her to cook for Blue Lock. She agrees, and she’s the one who cooks all the food at BLLK. One night, when all the players are supposed to be asleep, she sneaks out of her room to eat something, but doesn’t realize that a player from one of the wings had just finished extra training and was eating away. Let’s just say that their love story started from there.

4. An aspiring psychologist who wants to see what will happen to the mentalities and personalities of the players before and after Blue Lock

- HEAVY HEAVY HEAVY Isagi main love interest vibes here, but she’s kind of a weird person. She’s always analyzing the personalities of people because she’s so lonely and just wants to feel loved by someone. She then goes to Blue Lock out of pure interest just to see the results of the project. She accidentally sees one of the results of the elimination tag game for one of the teams, and she basically falls in love with the final eliminator then and there. She then kind of just hangs around them to see their personality, but she unknowingly becomes more and more in love with the person who she finds most psychologically interesting.

5. A former athlete who receives a career ending injury but becomes a regular spectator/mentor in Blue Lock

- So basically, she is a young athlete and is in love with whatever sport she’s playing and what’s to be the world’s best (I personally think ice skating would be perfect for this prompt…but anyways). But then one day at a competition or performance or match, she receives a career ending injury that will never heal, especially not if she keeps playing. Forced to quit and bitter about her injury, she goes to Blue Lock as a former athlete to watch a group of teenage boys try to achieve the dream that she once had, and she becomes a mentor and PR manager of sorts, giving them advice and encouragement.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x fem reader #blue lock x yn #blue lock x oc #blue lock x chubby reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #bllk x yn #bllk x fem reader #bllk x oc #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you

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spokenforyou · 4 months ago

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doctor zayne x fem reader !

notes: for the zayne girls, this is pretty raunchy. enjoy <3

warnings: protected f-cking, vulgarity, nsfw

word count: 3k

[minors do not interact, if you continue, you consent to viewing writing that is not appropriate and that is NSFW, despite the warnings!]

_________________________________________________

HAVE YOUR FILL

Zayne was your primary care doctor at Akso Hospital, also serving as a cardiac surgeon top in the game. You regularly went in for checkups regarding heart pain and he always enjoyed taking care of you. You were his favorite patient as he’s known you his whole life.

Today you were late, however, and he wasn’t surprised but he had a long day. Zayne sighs as he looks at the clock on his wall. You were his last appointment.

“10 minutes late y/n…” He mutters to himself.

All of a sudden a nurse knocks on his door, and he calls back. “Come in.”

“Miss Y/N, doctor.” She checks off your name on her list.

He locks eyes with you as you stand beside the woman, she urges you in and smiles at Zayne before closing the door.

“You’re late.” He says with no emotion while you sit on the exam table.

“Zayne… This time I have a reason.” You laugh as he gathers his equipment.

“And what could it be this time?” He picks up a blood pressure cuff and moves to stand between your legs, wrapping it around your upper arm.

“Had a mission, the wanderers were pretty hard to take down today.” You watch as the cuff squeezes your arm and slowly releases.

He catches the numbers and documents them before undoing the cuff. “How many today?” He looks at you before taking his stethoscope and pressing it to your chest.

“Uh, I think-“ You begin to speak but he interrupts you.

“Shush, let me check your heart.” He replies and you gasp under your breath, holding back a remark. He pulls it away and looks at you before backing up.

“You asked me a question Zayne.” You chuckle and Zayne scoffs, but not with a hint of sarcasm.

“Had to check your heart for analysis. Okay, so how many?” He sits down at his desk while he waits for you to speak.

“Five for today.” You look at him before glancing at his fingers that wrap around the pen he’s writing with.

“Any injuries?” He quickly stands and moves back over to you, scanning you over.

One thing about Zayne is he cared heavily about his patients, but you in particular he cares a lot about. The slightest wound or cut worries him senseless. Any drop in your weight, change in your face, anything.

“Hm, not that I know of. I haven’t checked, rushed here after the mission so…” You sigh and look down at your arms.

“Okay, I’ll check you.” He mutters before taking your arm in his hand, extending it, and looking at it deeply, brows furrowed as he looks for even the smallest cut.

You sit as he looks over your body, at least what he can see at the moment. He looks up and locks eyes with you before looking at your other arm. Seeing no signs of injury he looks at your face and chest.

“Zayne, ya know I think I’m okay.” You laugh as he finishes looking you over. He nods and backs up, letting go of your arm.

“I’m not seeing anything. But we do need to discuss your heart, any issues?” He reaches over and grabs his paper from the desk.

“No, not really, just slight pain now and then, fluttering too. That’s normal for me at this point.” You sigh as he hands you the paper.

“These are your vitals, your heart is recorded on there as well. Everything looks fine but if anything worsens, call me immediately. Your Protocore Syndrome worries me.” Zayne looks at your features as you read over the paper, eyes gazing too long on your lips, and you nod without noticing his gaze.

“Will do, Doc.” You smile and he fights back a smile. Zayne moves back over to his desk and sits once more.

He pulls up a website that goes into detail about Protocore Syndrome, and motions for you to come over. You hop off the table and walk over to where he’s sitting. You squint at the screen and Zayne looks up at you before placing a hand on your waist.

“Sit, you’ll see better.” He nudges you and you look around.

“Where? There’s no chair Zayne?” I lift a brow as he looks up at me, hazel green eyes shining. He pats his thigh.

“Y/N, are you that oblivious?” He chuckles and pats again. “Sit.”

Your eyes widen and you think about it for a second before he pulls you down onto him. He scoots closer to the computer, one cold hand still wrapped around you.

Zayne scrolls through the website until he reaches the symptoms of Protocore Syndrome. You read through them and he looks at you while you do so, gently rubbing your side.

“Any symptoms that you are experiencing?” He looks at the screen with you. You nod and he moves closer his chest against your back as you read.

“Fluttering, cold and racing feeling in the heart, breathing difficulty…” You begin to list, he tightens his grip on you.

“Racing heart?” He mutters against you, his lips now pressing to the back of your shoulder. You swallow harshly, shocked by the sudden sensation.

“Yeah…” You reply dryly, feeling your throat tighten. He nods against you, his hand snaking to your stomach. Your heart races faster and your breathing quickens.

“Been taking care of yourself?” His gaze drifts to the screen before he pulls you right against his lap, you bite back a gasp.

“Of course, have you been taking care of yourself Doc?” Your reply causes him to chuckle and he hums.

“Mmm, try to. Just a bit overworked, having long days but anything for my patients…” He presses another kiss to your shoulder, a pity his lips aren’t on your bare skin.

“You overwork yourself Zayne. You need to relax once in a while and enjoy yourself. Look at all this paperwork.” You look at the stacks of paper on his desk and sigh. He growls under his breath.

“Can’t. Work is important.” He squeezes your hip. Your breathing halts as he does so. Zayne smiles at your reaction.

“And so is your health.” You roll your eyes, his words not surprising you the smallest bit. He laughs lowly.

“You’re acting like my doctor now, you gonna take care of me or something? Like we’re almost switching roles.” He leans his head forward to lock eyes with you, his voice low.

“I can attempt to take care of you?” You giggle and his cold heart warms at the sound of your adorable laugh.

“Mmm, go ahead. Try to out-doctor me.” He lets go of your waist. You lift yourself off his lap and turn around to face him, situating yourself back in his lap. Your legs come to rest on the outsides of his thighs.

Zayne instinctively rests his hands on your hips as you situate yourself. Never having been in this position with him, you feel nervous. There has always been a sense of chemistry and sexual tension between the two of you, however.

“What’s first Doc?” He smiles up at you.

You think to yourself and your eyes drop down to his pink lips that look softer than ever. You lean down and attach your lips to his. Your body warms and your heart races even faster as his lips move against yours slowly.

It’s a gentle and tender kiss, feels as if you both have wanted to do this forever. You press yourself down against him, feeling his obvious growing arousal beneath you.

You smile against his lips and he pulls away to mutter quietly. “Sorry…” He whispers as his face grows red.

You giggle and pull back enough to look into his eyes, his pupils dilated. “Don’t apologize. Just lets me know I’m pampering a patient correctly.”

He smirks and connects his lips to yours once again, this kiss more fast and sloppy. Zayne gently bites on your bottom lip, his way of asking for entry. You part your lips and he groans, a flutter in your stomach at the sound.

Your tongues battle and you grind against his lap, feeling your body heat and getting more aroused. He hisses as he continues to French kiss you. His hands slide down to squeeze your ass.

You let out the tiniest moan into his mouth and he pulls away with a smirk. “You sound pretty…”

Blushing, you hide your embarrassment by leaning down and kissing his neck. His eyes flutter at the quick attack of your lips. “Fuck…”

You gently suck and he smirks to himself. “Mmm, the carotid artery, good.” Zayne groans.

You leave faint hickeys on his neck before leaning back to eye his shirt. “Think this has to come off Mr. Zayne…” You smirk and he returns it.

Nodding, he allows you to take it off. You unbutton it slowly and he watches you with fluttered eyes. Undoing the last button you pull it down and slide it off his arms, his pale skin on view as his chest heaves.

Running your hand down his chest, he bites his lower lip. You giggle and pepper kisses over his chest, and he hisses in return.

“You’re so soft Zayne…” You mumble against his chest as you slowly slide yourself off his lap and onto the floor, between his legs.

Zayne’s eyes lock with yours and he runs a hand through your hair before cupping your jaw. “Does teasing come with taking care of me?” He chuckles.

You smile at him and nod. “Let me do my thing Zayne.” Your hands reach for the belt of his black pants and you quickly slide it off. Your hands travel to his button and zipper next. His breathing quickened at the sight of seeing you so quick and desperate.

“Can I Zay?” You whisper and look up at him with your pretty eyes.

“Have your fill baby…” He whispers and your stomach flips at the pet name. Undoing his pants you quickly slide them off his hips, he lifts up so you can throw them on the floor.

Eyes scanning over his grey boxers and the obvious boner beneath them you feel yourself practically drool. He tuts before making you look up at him.

“You haven’t even seen me yet…” He drags a finger along your lower lip, before pulling away and palming himself. His eyes locked on yours as he did so, long lashes batting against his skin.

You look down at his hand and let out the smallest whine. Smacking his hand away he gasps and you reach your fingers into the hem of his boxers to rip them off. Zayne quickly follows your lead and lifts once again, his boxers immediately coming off.

His aching length swings out and stands tall against his stomach, he watches your reaction carefully. This time you actually drool.

“Zayne I…” Is all you manage to get out before he interrupts.

“Didn’t expect this?” His stoic expression shifts into a cocky smile. “Touch me.” He urges before guiding himself to you, allowing you to choose what to do with it.

You immediately wrap a hand around him, the warmth engulfing your hands. The temperature difference between his member and hands is insanely significant.

You lean towards him and kiss the underside of his swollen head before swiping a tongue against it. His eyes shut immediately and a hiss flew out of his mouth. “Ah…”

You stroke him a few times before wrapping your lips around him and moaning at the feeling. Beginning to bob your head, he moans and guides your head. The amount you can’t fit into your mouth you pump in your fist.

His moans grow louder and louder as you continue, tongue rubbing him in all the right places.

“Y/n…” Zayne pants and pulls you away from him, his cock dragging out of your mouth with a pop as it drips saliva onto his thigh. “Ride me…Please.”

You giggle sensing his desperation. “I’m the one making decisions here.” He rolls his eyes and gives you a pleading look.

“If I don’t get inside of you in a matter of two minutes I’ll go insane. I need you.” He runs his hand along your cheek and you look at his flushed, pretty face.

“Fine.” You stand up and back away to quickly strip off your clothes. His jaw drops as his eyes land on your body, his hand flying to stroke himself.

“Hmm, wait.” You mumble before making sure the door is locked. His eyes land on your ass next, looking long enough to memorize it for future reference.

Turning back around you walk back over to him as he sits in his chair, legs spread as he continues to stroke himself. “Been more than two minutes. Think I’m gonna die or something…”

You laugh and he reaches up to squeeze your ass, yanking you down on top of him. He flutters his eyes for the millionth time today, feeling your bare heat against his thigh. He smirks and grinds you gently, feeling the wetness against him.

“Someone’s excited?” He rocks you back and forth, groaning, although you’re just sat on his thigh. You roll your eyes and look down at his cock that’s pressed between your bodies, still standing tall and leaking against your stomach.

“Says you.” You chuckle and he follows your eyes. His head is even more swollen and red from the need coursing through him.

“Just ride me already…” He whispers and spanks your ass before massaging it in his hands. You yelp quietly.

“Zayne! What if someone hears us?” I give him a glare and he smirks, spanking you again.

“Right… But these rooms are soundproof, for confidentiality. Don’t worry pretty.” He gives you a soft smile and runs his hands along your sides.

Nodding you turn a bit and grab his bag off the floor, reaching for his wallet. He watches you as you open it and pull out a condom. His eyes widen, surprised you knew where he keeps them.

“Smart. How’d you know where to find it?” He watches as you rip it open and take it out of its packaging.

“Typical men.” You laugh as you tease, knowing damn well most men keep condoms in their wallets. He laughs with you and rolls his eyes.

“Whatever.” He watches as you move yourself back, nearing his knees. You slide the condom onto his leaking, long shaft and he winces. You make sure it’s fully covering him before lifting yourself and holding him against your entrance.

Zayne’s eyes drop down and places his hands on your hips, lowering you down onto him. You both moan together as you slide down with ease and a stretch. Filling you to the hilt, he bottoms out inside you, his head kissing your cervix.

“Fuck… You feel so good…” He groans and you begin to bounce slowly, moans sliding off your tongue. His hips meet yours in harmony and he nods.

Zayne throws his head back against the chair as it leans back due to the weight of the two of you, but designed that way. He lets out strings of curses and tightens his hold on you and you bounce faster, rocking your hips in a way no one else has.

The mixture of your moans and groans fills the room, if it weren’t for the soundproof walls everyone on this floor would hear.

The sounds of your wetness turn him on even more than he thought was possible, his hands run up to cup your breasts before he leans down and sucks them. His tongue swirls as he bites ever so gently, one hand cupping the other and the other on the small of your back.

His hands never leave your body as you please him. Normally he would be on the giving end but he’d change it up for you, anytime he wanted. He’s always wanted you like this. Always wanted you.

He pulls away from your nipple with a pop and sucks the other one, feeling himself swell inside of you as he does so. You moan and bounce faster at the dual simulation he’s giving you.

“Zayne…” Moaning his name he growls against your skin, he hums and releases the other peak with a pop.

“You’re incredible… So perfect.” He whispers and attacks your neck with his lips, any excuse to keep his lips on yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you moan louder, giving him access to your neck.

“Zayne, I think I’m close…” You whisper and he smiles while continuing to pepper your skin.

“Me too baby…” He nods and brings his lips up to yours. “Cum with me, please,” Zayne begs and your heart swells at his sweet words.

“I will…” You whisper before you press your lips to his and he kisses you back hungrily, feeling his body tensing up.

You tense up on top of him, your cold heart now turning burning hot and your stomach burns with it. He twitches before he moans into your mouth and finishes.

Following behind him you collapse and stars fill your vision. Your love slides down his wrapped cock and onto the chair below you. His condom warms inside of you as it fills with his essence and his thrusts below you come to a stop.

He hugs you tightly, bear-hugging you as he pants. “Fuck y/n…” Zayne mutters in your ear as his twitching stops. You pant with him and rest your head in the crook of his neck, his hands rubbing your back. Once cold now warm.

“Zayne…” You manage a whisper and look up at him, his head turning a bit to look at you. He smiles down at you before kissing your forehead.

“You took such good care of me.” He whispers before planting another kiss on your head. “Stay with me a bit, just like this. Don’t wanna move yet.”

“M’kay…” You smile softly, nodding sleepily. Zayne chuckles and continues to rub your back. He softens inside of you, slowly but surely. After about ten minutes he slides out of you, discarding the condom into the trash.

Kissing your lips his his stoic expression was soft, he whispers. “Always wanted you.”

#lads smut #lads x reader #lads zayne #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #lnds #l&ds zayne #l&ds #smut #writing #dr zayne #zayne x reader #doctor zayne #zayne x you #zayne x mc #zayne smut

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writingroom21 · 26 days ago

Text

Only Fans

Pairing: stepdad!rafe x onlyfans!stepdaughter!reader

Summary: Rafe finds out a new secret about his stepdaughter and can't seem to help himself. Or Topper gives Rafe an accidental present.

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader does onlyfans, use of dildo (reader), spanking, cream pie, reader calls Rafe daddy.

Wc: 2K

“Man if I was in that house I would be taking advantage. She’s just there begging for it with these videos.” Rafe slows down his pace as he hears Topper talk. “Bet she’s imagining him every time she says daddy. Probably hopes he’ll hear her and do something about it.” Kelce laughs agreeing with his friend. Rafe creeps up behind them looking at the phone they are looking at. What he wasn’t prepared to see was his little step-daughter naked on the screen as she sinks down a huge dildo. His brain short-circuits as he watches you bounce up and down. How your pussy perfectly swallows the dildo with ease. Shit. “What the fuck are the two of you watching?”

The phone clatter ons the tiled floor causing the edges of it to crack. “Fuck Rafe you scared the shit out of us.” Topper picks up his phone inspecting it as Kelce clenches his heart. “Are you fucking sexting my step-daughter?” He stalks forward making his friend take a step back. Topper looks at Kelce for help but the other man just gets up and backs out of the room. “No no. It’s her only fans, she makes these videos and posts them on the internet.” Rafe snatches the phone from his hand and looks through it. He can clearly see Topper was on a website and sure enough there's videos of you. Without thinking he sends the website page to himself and tosses the phone back at his friend.

“Delete that account and if you look or talk about her again I’ll kill you.” Rafe rushes to his truck and sits in the front seat with his phone in his hands. Pulling up the website he creates an account and subscribes to you. ��Am I really about to do this?” He mumbles to himself before clicking on the first video. There you are in one of his work shirts playing with your pretty pussy. You tease your clit as you smile into the camera giving it a wink as you sink your fingers in. “Fuck daddy you feel so good.” His dick swells in his pants making it uncomfortable as he keeps scrolling. Video after video there you were fucking yourself all while crying out the word daddy.

Having enough he throws the phone on the passenger seat and races home. All he needs to do is get it out of his system. He’ll watch your videos and fuck his fist until the idea of you is out of his mind. Screw Topper for watching that video. Of course he would find your only fans and enjoy your videos. The fact that Topper, his friend, got to see you like this pisses him off. That should have been saved for him. He should have seen you taking each dildo, watching as you slowly work your way to something that stretches you out for him. But the thing that infuriates him is that you are posting this for others to see. Thankfully every video is solo so he didn’t have to see you fucking someone else.

He slams his truck into park and practically runs into the house. It wasn’t until he was passing your room that the plans divot. Your bedroom door is wide open displaying as you lay on your back with your hand shoved in your panties. You have headphones in so you probably didn’t hear him and your eyes are closed so you can’t see him. He should walk into his room and jerk off to the image of this. Create some scenario where you get on your knees and suck him off. But he’s not that type of man. No he’s the type to walk into your room, lock the door, and climb on your bed next to you. Your eyes snap open at the shift of weight. “Rafe oh my god.” The clunky headphones fall on the bed and he can hear a male's voice.

“Who are you talking to?”The corners of your eyes crinkle. “No I.” You close your mouth and try to move to the edge. He only takes that as a sign to move closer, his hand finding your thigh. “Who is it?” His grip tightens and he pulls you to him. The bed sheets ruffle underneath you as you try to make space. “It’s an audiobook.” Now that was new. Picking up the headphones he takes a listen. A low chuckle comes from him from what he hears causes you to feel embarrassed. “Is that what you think of when you fuck yourself for those videos?” Your eyes widen even more but something in the way he looks at you makes you bold.

“No, I think about you. Wishing you would finally fuck me the way I want.” A huge smile spreads across his face. Now on his hands and knees, Rafe climbs over you. Your back lands on the mattress as his body hovers, barely touching you but enough to drive you insane. “Should’ve just found me baby. Would’ve shown you what a real man feels like.” He emphasizes the point by grinding his hard dick on your thigh. Instinctively your thighs open to welcome him in. You love the way his jeans feel rubbing against your panties. The ridge of the zipper grazes your clit with the slow rocks of his hips. Blue eyes are trained on yours waiting for you to say something.

“Show me.” The words are softer than you intended. “Show me, please Rafe.” Leaning back he watches you breathing heavily. His right pointer finger trails a path from the base of your throat all the way down to the hem of your lace pink panties. He snaps the band, marveling at the way you shut your eyes in pleasure. Allowing him to do whatever he wants. He gets up from the bed ripping the panties off of you in the process. “Why don’t you show me how you think about me? Go fuck yourself on one of your dildo’s.” Your eyes flash brightly at the idea.

When you first started posting you loved all the comments you would get. Seeing how much someone wanted you turned you on. But the thought of Rafe watching you makes you the horniest you’ve ever been. While also making you super nervous. He makes his way to the end of the bed. Fingers wrap around your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed, forcing you off and to your dresser.

How does he know where your dildo’s are?

He sits down as you grab your favorite one. It’s long but mostly girthy so it stretches you out just the way you like it. The suction cup grips the floor making a noise when you get it in place. Next you grab a bottle of lube. You squirt some on the tip and spread it making sure to make eye contact with him. Your eyes glaze over watching as he pulls his pants down and palms his cock. Shit. Just by looking at him you can tell he’s going to feel amazing. It’s a good thing you picked this dildo since Rafe is like the perfect mirror image of it. There’s a small twitch in his eye almost making you flutter. “Where’d you get that?” You sink down on it, enjoying how it fills you with a delicious burn.

“Was mailed to me at school. A gift I guess.” You don’t really care who sent it. All you know is that it’s the best dick you’ve gotten and that includes real life. Everything about it drives you crazy, especially the large vein going from the tip to base. It feels so good when it rubs against your g-spot. Slowly you bounce on it, your tits bouncing along with you. There’s a drop of precum that falls from his tip. You lick your lips wishing you had him in your mouth. Your heart rate picks up when he stands and walks over to you. This is the moment where he makes you suck him off. Well that was what you were hoping for. What you didn’t expect was for him to pull up by your hair and drag you to the bed.

He shoves you face first over the edge and gets right behind you. The tip of his dicks swipes up and down slicking himself up with your juices. “Wanna hear a secret?” He’s teasing your entrance with his tip, barely pushing it in before pulling back. You whine out a what, locking your ankles around his back so he can’t fully leave. “You’ve been fucking yourself with a mold of me.” A while back Topper came up with the great idea of Rafe making a mold of his dick for your mom. He didn’t want to do it but his friend had convinced him it would benefit their sex life. Which at that point and still is none existent. Topper handled everything so now Rafe gets why your mom never said anything. He just thought she didn’t care and he wasn’t going to fight over something stupid.

“What!” You scream as he shoves fully inside you. You feel full, the same fullness you just had when you straddle your dildo. Oh fuck he was right. “Fucking Topper must have thought it was funny.” He starts thrusting furiously, spearing into your g-spot with each thrust. “He convinced me to make one of those molds. Didn’t know he sent it to you… got you nice and ready for me though. Might have to thank him.” Your ass bounces as his thrusts increase in pace. There’s a glaze film over his eyes as he looks down at you. A glob of spit falls directly where he enters you. A loud slap echoes the room followed by a loud moan from you.

His hand rubs the bright red handprint forming on the globe of your ass. “Finally got the real thing and can’t even speak.” His right arm lifts up to swat your ass again in the same spot. “Oh god.” A deep laugh comes from his chest, his fingers pulling at the ends of your hair. Tsking, he pulls a bit harder. “That’s not what you usually say.” He grips your hair at your scalp pulling you up-forcing his phone camera in your face. “Come on, princess, say what we both want to hear.” Burning liquid circles your veins as you orgasim peaks and you scream out. “DADDY.” A hard thrust praises you. “Daddy just like that. Please cum I want to feel you.” His grip on your hair shifts to your neck as he records your face.

“Yeah? Wanna feel your daddy fill you up?” Rafe leans back pushing you back to have your face shoved in the sheets. The phone pans over to where he is essentially destroying your pussy. “Please daddy, cum in me please.” His nails dig into your back as he holds you down so he can fill you up. Slowly his hips come to a halt making sure to keep you plugged up. Shifting back, he adjusts the camera to catch the way his cum drips out of you. His thumb catches some, smearing it on your clit before shoving the finger back in you. Rafe pulls back, stopping the video and sucking his thumb in his mouth.

You watch him over your shoulder hoping he’ll do something else. Just then the front door slams. “I’m making chili tonight!” Your mom yells as she makes her way through the house. She talks to herself as you turn to face Rafe, your stepdad who just fucked the shit out of you. There’s a big smile on his face and he starts to back away. He sends you a wink right before he leaves you in your room wondering how you can act normal around him again. A few hours later you’re scrolling on tik tok when you get a notification. Looking you see it’s from Rafe and something flutters inside you. There’s a video with you at the forefront of it all.

Go on and post that baby. Want your followers to see how well your daddy treats you.

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 @selfcontollover07 @akobx @starkeysbebe @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafesbabygirlx @lolasangelz

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron x reader #stepdad!rafe #stepdaughter!reader #stepdad!rafe x stepdaughter!reader

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

Text

“That Makes Me Smart”

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth

The Biden administration disappointed, frustrated and enraged in so many ways, including abetting a genocide – but one consistent bright spot over the past four years was the unseen-for-generations frontal assault on corporate power and corporate corruption.

The three words that define this battle above all others are "unfair and deceptive" – words that appear in Section 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act and other legislation modeled on it, like USC40 Section 41712(a), which gives the Department of Transportation the power to ban "unfair and deceptive" practices as well:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

When Congress created an agency to punish "unfair and deceptive" conduct, they were saying to the American people, "You have a right not to be cheated." While this may sound obvious, it's hardly how the world works.

To get a sense of how many ripoffs are part of our daily lives, let's take a little tour of the ways that the FTC and other agencies have used the "unfair and deceptive" standard to defend you over the past four years. Take Amazon Prime: Amazon executives emailed one another, openly admitting that in their user tests, the public was consistently fooled by Amazon's "get free shipping with Prime" dialog boxes, thinking they were signing up for free shipping and not understanding that they were actually signing up to send the company $140/year. They had tested other versions of the signup workflow that users were able to correctly interpret, but they decided to go with the confusing version because it made them more money:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/05/amazon-execs-may-be-personally-liable-for-tricking-users-into-prime-sign-ups/

Getting you signed up for Prime isn't just a matter of taking $140 out of your pocket once – because while Amazon has produced a greased slide that whisks you into a recurring Prime subscription, the process for canceling that recurring payment is more like a greased pole you must climb to escape the Prime pit. This is typical of many services, where signing up happens in a couple clicks, but canceling is a Kafkaesque nightmare. The FTC decided that this was an "unfair and deceptive" business practice and used its authority to create a "Click to Cancel" rule that says businesses have to make it as easy to cancel a recurring payment as it was to sign up for it:

https://www.theregister.com/2023/07/12/ftc_cancel_subscriptions/

Once businesses have you locked in, they also spy on you, ingesting masses of commercial surveillance data that you "consented" to by buying a car, or clicking to a website, or installing an app, or just physically existing in space. They use this to implement "surveillance pricing," raising prices based on their estimation of your desperation. Uber got caught doing this a decade ago, raising the price of taxi rides for users whose batteries were about to die, but these days, everyone's in on the game. For example, McDonald's has invested in a company that spies on your finances to determine when your payday is, and then raises the price of your usual breakfast sandwich by a dollar the day you get paid:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

Everything about this is "unfair and deceptive" – from switching prices the second you click into the store to the sham of consent that consists of, say, picking up your tickets to a show and being ordered to download an app that comes with 20,000 words of terms and conditions that allows the company that sends you a QR code to spy on you for the rest of your life in any way they can and sell the data to anyone who'll buy it.

As bad as it is to be trapped in an abusive relationship as a shopper, it's a million times worse to be trapped as a worker. One in 18 American workers is under a noncompete "agreement" that makes it illegal for you to change jobs and work for someone else in the same industry. The vast majority of these workers are in low-waged food-service jobs. The primary use of the American noncompete is to stop the cashier at Wendy's from getting an extra $0.25/hour by taking a job at McDonald's.

Noncompetes are shrouded in a fog of easily dispelled bossly bullshit: claims that noncompetes raise wages (empirically, this is untrue), or that they enable "IP"-intensive industries to grow by protecting their trade secrets. This claim is such bullshit: you can tell by the fact that noncompetes are banned under California's state constitution and yet the most IP-intensive industries have attracted hundreds of billions – if not trillions – in investment capital even though none of their workforce can be bound under a noncompete. The FTC's order banning noncompetes for every worker in America simply brings the labor regime that created Silicon Valley and Hollywood to the rest of the country:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Noncompetes aren't the only "unfair and deceptive" practice used against American workers. The past decade has seen the rise of private equity consolidation in several low-waged industries, like pet grooming. The new owners of every pet grooming salon within 20 miles of your house haven't just slashed workers' wages, they've also cooked up a scheme that lets them charge workers thousands of dollars if they quit these shitty jobs. This scheme is called a "training repayment agreement provision" (TRAP!): workers who are TRAPped at Petsmart are made to work doing menial jobs like sweeping up the floor for three to four weeks. Petsmart calls this "training," and values it at $5,500. If you quit your pet grooming job in the next two years, you legally owe PetSmart $5,500 to "repay" them for the training:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/04/its-a-trap/#a-little-on-the-nose

Workers are also subjected to "unfair and deceptive" bossware: "AI" tools sold to bosses that claim they can sort good workers from bad, but actually serve as random-number generators that penalize workers in arbitrary, life-destroying ways:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/26/hawtch-hawtch/#you-treasure-what-you-measure

Some of the most "unfair and deceptive" conduct we endure happens in shadowy corners of industry, where obscure middlemen help consolidated industries raise prices and pick your pocket. All the meat you buy in the grocery store comes from a cartel of processing and packing companies that all subscribe to the same "price consulting" services that tells them how to coordinate across-the-board price rises (tell me again how greedflation isn't a thing?):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

It's not just food, it's all of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. Take shelter: the highly consolidated landlord industry uses apps like Realpage to coordinate rental price hikes, turning the housing crisis into a housing emergency:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/24/gouging-the-all-seeing-eye/#i-spy

And of course, health is the most "unfair and deceptive" industry of all. Useless middlemen like "Pharmacy Benefit Managers" ("a spreadsheet with political power" -Matt Stoller) coordinate massive price-hikes in the drugs you need to stay alive, which is why Americans pay substantially more for medicine than anyone else in the world, even as the US government spends more than any other to fund pharma research, using public money:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

It's not just drugs: every piece of equipment – think hospital beds and nuclear medicine machines – as well as all the consumables – from bandages to saline – at your local hospital runs through a cartel of "Group Purchasing Organizations" that do for hospital equipment what PBMs do for medicine:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/27/lethal-dysfunction/#luxury-bones

For the past four years, we've lived in an America where a substantial portion of the administrative state went to war every day to stamp out unfair and deceptive practices. It's still happening: yesterday, the CFPB (which Musk has vowed to shut down) proposed a new rule that would ban the entire data brokerage industry, who nonconsensually harvest information about every American, and package it up into categories like "teenagers from red states seeking abortions" and "military service personnel with gambling habits" and "seniors with dementia" and sell this to marketers, stalkers, foreign governments and anyone else with a credit-card:

https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/cfpb-proposes-rule-to-stop-data-brokers-from-selling-sensitive-personal-data-to-scammers-stalkers-and-spies/

And on the same day, the FTC banned the location brokers who spy on your every movement and sell your past and present location, again, to marketers, stalkers, foreign governments and anyone with a credit card:

https://www.404media.co/ftc-bans-location-data-company-that-powers-the-surveillance-ecosystem/

These are tantalizing previews of a better life for every American, one in which the rule is, "play fair." That's not the world that Trump and his allies want to build. Their motto isn't "cheaters never prosper" – it's "caveat emptor," let the buyer beware.

Remember the 2016 debate where Clinton accused Trump of cheating on his taxes and he admitted to it, saying "That makes me smart?" Trumpism is the movement of "that makes me smart" life, where if you get scammed, that's your own damned fault. Sorry, loser, you lost.

Nowhere do you see this more than in cryptocurrencyland, so it's not a coincidence that tens – perhaps hundreds – in dark crypto money was flushed into the election, first to overpower Democratic primaries and kick out Dem legislators who'd used their power to fight the "unfair and deceptive" crowd:

https://www.politico.com/newsletters/california-playbook-pm/2024/02/13/crypto-comes-for-katie-porter-00141261

And then to fight Dems across the board (even the Dems whose primary victories were funded by dark crypto money) and elect the GOP as the party of "caveat emptor"/"that makes me smart":

https://www.coindesk.com/news-analysis/2024/12/02/crypto-cash-fueled-53-members-of-the-next-u-s-congress

Crypto epitomizes the caveat emptor economy. By design, fraudulent crypto transactions can't be reversed. If you get suckered, that's canonically a you problem. And boy oh boy, do crypto users get suckered (including and especially those who buy Trump's shitcoins):

https://www.web3isgoinggreat.com/

And for crypto users who get ripped off because they've parked their "money" in an online wallet, there's no sympathy, just "not your keys, not your coins":

https://www.ledger.com/academy/not-your-keys-not-your-coins-why-it-matters

A cornerstone of the "unfair and deceptive" world is that only suckers – that is, outsiders, marks and little people – have to endure consequences when they get rooked. When insiders get ripped off, all principle is jettisoned. So it's not surprising that when crypto insiders got taken for millions the first time they created a DAO, they tore up all the rules of the crypto world and gave themselves the mulligan that none of the rest of us are entitled to in cryptoland:

https://blog.ethereum.org/2016/07/20/hard-fork-completed

Where you find crypto, you find Elon Musk, the guy who epitomizes caveat emptor thinking. This is a guy who has lied to drivers to get them to buy Teslas by promising "full self driving in one year," every year, since 2015:

https://www.consumerreports.org/cars/autonomous-driving/timeline-of-tesla-self-driving-aspirations-a9686689375/

Musk told investors that he had a "prototype" autonomous robot that could replace their workers, then demoed a guy in a robot suit, pretending to be a robot:

https://gizmodo.com/elon-musk-unveils-his-funniest-vaporware-yet-1847523016

Then Musk did it again, two years later, demoing a remote-control robot while lying and claiming that it was autonomous:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/14/tesla-optimus-bots-were-controlled-by-humans-during-the-we-robot-event

This is entirely typical of the AI sector, in which "AIs" are revealed, over and over, to be low-waged workers pretending to be robots, so much so that Indian tech industry insiders joke that "AI" stands for "Absent Indians":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Musk's view is that he's not a liar, merely a teller of premature truths. Autonomous cars and robots are just around the corner (just like the chatbots that can do your job, and not merely convince your boss to fire you while failing to do your job). He's not tricking you, he's just faking it until he makes it. It's not a scam, it's inspirational. Of course, if he's wrong and you are scammed, well, that's a you problem. Caveat emptor. That makes him smart.

Musk does this all the time. Take the Twitter blue tick, originally conceived of as a way to keep Twitter users from being scammed ("unfair and deceptive") by con artists pretending to be famous people. Musk's inaugural act at Twitter was to take away blue ticks from verified users and sell them to anyone who'd pay $8/month. Almost no one coughed up for this – the main exception being scammers, who used their purchased, unverified blue ticks to steal from Twitter users ("that makes me smart").

As Twitter hemorrhaged advertising revenue and Musk became increasingly desperate to materialize an army of $8/month paid subscribers, he pulled another scam: he nonconsensually applied blue ticks to prominent accounts, in a bid to trick normies into thinking that widely read people valued blue ticks so much they were paying for them out of their own pockets:

https://www.bbc.com/news/technology-65365366

If you were tricked into buying a blue tick on this pretense, well, caveat emptor. Besides, it's not a lie, it's a premature truth. Someday all those widely read users with nonconsensual blue ticks will surely value them so highly that they do start to pay for them. And if they don't? Well, Musk got your $8: "that makes me smart."

Scammers will always tell you that they're not lying to you, merely telling premature truths. Sam Bankman-Fried's defenders will tell you that he didn't actually steal all those billions. He gambled them on a bet that (sorta-kinda) paid off. Eventually, he was able to make all his victims (sorta-kinda) whole, so it's not even a theft:

https://www.cnn.com/2024/05/08/business/ftx-bankruptcy-plan-repay-creditors/index.html

Likewise, Tether, a "stablecoin" that was unable to pass an audit for many years as it issued unbacked, unregulated securities while lying and saying that for every dollar they minted, they had a dollar in reserves. Tether now (maybe) has reserves to equal its outstanding coins, so obviously all those years where they made false claims, they weren't lying, merely telling a premature truth:

https://creators.spotify.com/pod/show/cryptocriticscorner/episodes/Tether-wins–Skeptics-lose-the-end-of-an-era-e2rhf5e

If Tether had failed a margin call during those years and you'd lost everything, well, caveat emptor. The Tether insiders were always insulated from that risk, and that's all that matters: "that makes me smart."

When I think about the next four years, this is how I frame it: the victory of "that makes me smart" over "fairness and truth."

For years, progressives have pointed out the right's hypocrisy, despite that fact that Americans have been conditioned to be so cynical that even the rankest hypocrisy doesn't register. But "caveat emptor?" That isn't just someone else's bad belief or low ethics: it's the way that your life is materially, significantly worsened. The Biden administration – divided between corporate Dems and the Warren/Sanders wing that went to war on "unfair and deceptive" – was ashamed and nearly silent on its groundbreaking work fighting for fairness and honesty. That was a titanic mistake.

Americans may not care about hypocrisy, but they really care about being stolen from. No one wants to be a sucker.

#tether #ftx #scams #trumpism #caveat emptor #cryptocurrency #twitter #sleaze #premature truths #bossware #pluralistic

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canon-in-too-deep · 4 months ago

Text

Typesetting Tips 4.5: Graphics/Images

One common question I see popping up for people getting into making books/typesets is 'where do I find graphics/images to decorate my books with?' And of course, that's with the caveat of 'and they're free'.

Thus, this is a continuation of my old post on where to find graphics/images to use for typesetting/book design. Because it's been half a year since then, and while I am very much the same amateur typesetter I was then, I am now a slightly older amateur typesetter---who knows more websites!

(I'm including websites I've listed before so that all the links are in one post)

All these sites have free offerings to varying degrees. Personally, I haven't had to pay anything so far for that I've used. If you see something you like that's locked behind a paywall, try to reverse google search it to see if there's a free version out there! I've seen a lot of these sites upload the same images. Also, be careful of AI!

Graphic/Image Resources:

Archive.org - Internet Archive. Not as easy to download or use images from, but there are a lot of cool resources there if you have the time.

Canva - Easy to use for beginning design work. I recommend taking advantage of their month long free trial (I found it easy to cancel as well when it was over), but do not recommend subscribing.

Creative Fabrica - They send out a lot of free bundle promos in their email subscriptions. I mostly use them for fonts but they do have a lot of free resources for crafting.

Exotic Animal Photo Reference Repository - This is an animal photography database by @why-animals-do-the-thing! They have a lovely growing repository that's both education and free! Just be sure to ask permission and credit and link to them if you to use their work!

Freepik - More free stuff! I haven't used it a lot yet, but I've seen this site recced by others.

Heritage Library - Lot of neat pngs/vectors. Especially great if you're looking for vintage/nature images.

Pixabay - Royalty free and under the Content License

Rawpixel - Probably the site I use the most. I sort to exclude all the AI images and just use the free/public domain stuff.

Noun Project - Lots of icons available. Tend to be more minimalistic and simple. I know a lot of bookbinders use this site, though I haven't explored it much.

Smithsonian - The Smithsonian Open Access is free database from the Smithsonian with millions of images available.

Streamlinehq - Another site with a lot of free icons. Most of their really cool assets cost money, but you can sign up for free with an email address to download 10 free assets if you see something you really like.

Wikiart - Great place to look at public domain artwork.

Wikimedia Commons - (Wikimedia Commons, Wikisource, Wiki Books, etc.) Tons of stuff to sift through.

Last source: FONTS! You can go a long way with dingbat fonts for decorations! Frames, ornaments, etc. can be done with fonts. Check out dafont and other free font sites; fonts can sometimes be a lot easier to use in texts than images.

#typesetting tips #typesetting #book design #graphics #resources #will update if I think of more

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ghouldump · 9 months ago

Note

Your lestat x louis x claudia fic EATSSSSSSSS

If your are up to it could you do something with my pretty husband armand and his manipulative ways?

Beautiful Deception | Armand x Reader

ෆ moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.

lol thank youuu so much, i hope you like this 💕 sometimes i take a while to post because i rewrite my work over and over until i think it’s good. this was a great idea and i don’t mind taking more.

“How long will you continue to claim that you are a vampire?” The interviewer, Daniel Malloy asked. Crossing your leg over the other, you smiled.

“It is merely one of many truths, but I will let you and the readers decide if it should be accepted,” you said.

It had been nearly a year since you turned 100. Since you made the blog, originally to share stories from your past. Despite all events being true, and the website becoming a success, it was all seen as fiction. You were seen as a character, an upcoming writer dedicated to your role, but it would be coming to an end. Daniel, someone you’d been studying for some time now, needed a story, something fresh. He was getting the raw unspoken truth, things you hadn’t shared before, publishing it along with an interview.

“Why now?”

“Why not now, Daniel? We live in a new age, where we people of the night should be known,” you smirked.

Just then, the door opened, and Armand, your partner of over 80 years entered. The sleek black turtle neck was perfect against his glowing brown skin. Turning to him, you looked up in admiration, as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, before sitting next to you.

“I hope you don't mind, my husband, Armand, joining us”

“Armand the vampire? You said some concerning things about him,” Daniel said, trying to get under both of your skin.

“We’ve moved past those times,” you said, as Armand intertwined your fingers.

“Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, shall we start?”

“Yes, let’s,” you smiled, nodding.

“Let’s start here…”

Run, run, don’t stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you’d drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

“Sir,” you called out, as you jogged to him.

“No, no, I’m closing,” he pointed at the sign.

“Please help me, he’s going to get me,” you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

“Come in,” he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping in glass.

“We have to hide,” you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

“You go,” he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes softened seeing your tear stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

“Please….”

“You’re moving ahead of yourself, Daniel, we have to start from the beginning, I had just moved to France-

“So Armand didn’t kill the shop owner and was about to kill you next?” He asked, as Armand clenched his jaw, glaring at the man.

“Daniel, you only get one session, you have to get this right, just let the story seduce you as it had done to me,” you said as he begrudgingly nodded, finally ready to listen.

"Here are your keys, rent is due on the third of each month," your new landlord, Henri said, handing the keys to your husband, Phillip.

“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, while you giggled, your eyes exploring the place. Neither of you was the best at French, at least speaking it. Despite the previous months of studying and reciting, your articulation was still overwhelmingly, American.

He didn't say anything, giving you both a questionable stare, before leaving the small apartment. Compacted in size, and already cluttered with furniture, but it was your new home, and that's all that mattered. Shutting the front door, you walked over to the full-sized bed. This was the fresh start you needed.

“What do you think?” Philip asked.

“I love it,” you told him, jumping into his arms.

Living all of your life in the States, you were the youngest of two children. Your father, you never knew, not that it mattered too much to you. It was your mother who came from a wealthy family in France. Before she decided to move to its child, New Orleans.

She didn't talk about her time there much, only telling short stories about your grandparents or her early life in Paris. She was lonely as a child, and her parents were oftentimes neglectful, as a result of having her at an old age.

Having her own children, you and your twin brother, Elijah, from a hookup with an attractive soldier, she vowed to dedicate herself to both of you. She made sure neither of you ever went without, providing the best of your desires.

Around 9, you were certain you wanted to be a performer. It didn't matter how or what you did, the idea of being adored, captivating the crowd, your juvenile mind was set. Your mother soon paid for all sorts of lessons, dancing, singing, and instruments, she was just as determined that you would achieve your dreams.

While you were striving for your goals, your brother, Elijah, struggled with living in your shadow. You took up most of your mother's time, which is how she didn't notice the bullying. He had always been introverted, harmless as a butterfly, nose deep in a book. While you were holding onto hopes and dreams, your brother was guaranteed a successful life with how smart he’d always been.

However, there was a problem, jealousy. She was a demon, stronger than most, willing to compel whoever that would allow, to do whatever their deepest desires were. This is why, on that Saturday evening, on your 14th birthday, you and your mother left for the market, intending on baking a cake for the two of you, she attacked.

Bullies from his class saw him as he was taking out the trash. They never liked the boy, coveting the lifestyle he had been fortunately given. Attacking him, they only meant to roughen him up a bit, until he fought back. Then, filled with that ancient spirit of jealousy, one of them picked up a rock.

Thankfully, one of the neighbors heard the commotion and came running to save him, but the damage had been done. From that point on, your brother was different, as was your mother.

The life that he was once guaranteed to have was gone and your mother spent all of her time focused on caring for him. She still paid for your classes, but you were no longer a priority.

At 18, you met and eventually married Philip, a 22-year-old, journalist. He was very handsome with the most alluring brown eyes and soft wavy hair. He didn't have much money, but once he settled somewhere and established his career, he promised to give you the world.

Your mother disapproved of the marriage, how could you carelessly marry a poor man trusting his empty promises, she screamed at you. Which is why, out of spite, you told her you’d be moving to Paris. You watched as the hardened expression dropped, and sad memories flashed through her eyes. Throwing her hands up, she gave up with her argument, letting you leave, sending a parting gift of a few thousand dollars, before you were out of the country.

Now in the beautiful city, Phillip’s future seemed to be already looking up to be just as bright, as he had already been hired by a popular news corporation. Securing the apartment was simply the final step in your new life, at least that's what you thought.

Immediately, Philip worked day and night, hoping to begin to provide you with the life you deserved. Dates weren't as frequent as they once were in the States, but intimacy was just as regular as before, if not more.

Meanwhile, you oftentimes left home, looking for work. Not many places would hire women and the people who did expected their workers to work twice as much as they were paid. Until The Grand Cabaret, Edward, the head director of the restaurant/theatre was in dire need of new performances.

He'd stopped you on your way home from the store, captivated by your looks, giving you his card. Telling Phillip about the man, he agreed that it could be a good idea. Perhaps even a step towards becoming the big star you always wanted to be.

The next night you went, Philip was going to be out a little later than usual, finishing work. Anxiously, you made your way to the address on the card. Stopping in front of the building, you were surprised by the lack of guests. The establishment was nice, a few people were seated eating, and slow music was playing, but people continued to walk past.

“Ah, mademoiselle,” Edward smiled, as he stepped out.

“Not a busy night?” you asked him.

“People are more willing to eat with an equally lovely performance,” he said sheepishly, his eyes shifting to his left.

Following his eyes, you stared at the theater, Théâtre des Vampires. You could see the line of customers, excited to get into the theater. Although, the workers looked extremely rude and intimidating, dressed in the vampire costumes.

“I’m sure you just need the right act,” you told him, making eye contact with security, catching his brash expression.

“Do you sing or dance…?” He asked, waiting to hear your name.

“Y/n, and yes, I’ve been trained in both, I will admit, I am still not the greatest singer,” you laughed, as you accepted his hand.

“Please allow me to offer you a job here, as one of our employees. I trust your word, I am desperate, you’ll be paid weekly-

“I-when would I start?”

“Tonight…I mean, if it is possible,” he said.

“I can only stay for a while, my husband isn’t aware that I am away”

“Yes, of course, come right this way,” he said, leading you to the dressing room, allowing you to set your things down.

The cast members were all kind, introducing themselves as you glanced at yourself, checking your makeup.

“We have our newest act of the evening, the lovely and beautiful, Y/n,” Edward said, introducing you, before leaving the stage. He could already see the attention shifting to you, excitedly he opened the door, along with the windows, allowing potential guests to see.

“Just follow my lead,” you spoke to the small orchestra before you began singing a song you’d heard back when you lived with your mother. As the audience grew more interested, you felt your confidence rising by the second, as you danced freely, shutting your eyes, thrilled to finally be performing.

That night, for the first time, The Grand Cabaret was a full house. Everyone who passed wanted to see and hear more of your talent. As everyone clapped for you, and you could see now, you would be a star.

“What is the meaning of this?” Santiago frowned at Sam, wondering why he hadn’t been notified about any signaling of the play starting.

“Well…” Sam faced their leader, who stood, waiting for an answer.

“They’ve all gone to that stupid cabaret,” Estelle crossed her arms.

“Cabaret?”

“Apparently there is a new girl, American, she’s bringing them a bit of attention with her…performances,” Celeste told him.

Not saying a word, Armand furrowed his eyebrows, leaving the theater. His steps held a steady stride as he approached the building. Never since the theater had been opened had the place been empty. He had to see with his own eyes, this person, what had you done to take all of the loyal guests.

As he approached the entrance, the first thing he noticed was everyone wearing all black. The Dance of the Dead, starring the beautiful lead, Y/n,” his eyes skimmed the sign.

“Excuse me,” you said, brushing past Armand, and nearly running to the dressing room.

It had been a little over a month since you began working and although at first anxious, you were more than grateful for the opportunity. Edward was incredibly generous, wanting to keep his main act satisfied. You began to recommend themes, scenery, and new music, the guest needed to be able to visualize the show further than what you were giving.

The Dance of the Dead was a mockery of the vampire theater but with your own twist. A few people you'd grown familiar with had gone, telling you about how real everything seemed. How they’d managed to pull off some sort of screenplay, like movies. You never took the time to visit yourself, but saw the action as simply a little fun competition.

As the lights dimmed, Armand sat down, unintentionally gulping as you sauntered onto the stage. Immediately, the music started, along with your dancing. Armand watched as everyone focused, hypnotized as you were oozing in sex appeal. He nearly second-guessed himself about you, it shouldn't be possible for a mortal to captivate so many people in such a way, Armand thought to himself.

Going to your knees, as your head went back, he couldn’t help but think of how supernatural your beauty was, how luring your essence was. Going further to the floor, you faced the audience, your eyes meeting his. He smirked slightly, nodding at you, while you bit your lips.

As the song came to an end, you stood up, bowing your head. The audience cheered loudly, clapping and whistling.

‘Beautiful’ you heard, your eyes going to Armand, as he stood up.

“Thank you,” you blew kisses at the crowd, before going backstage.

He watched in amazement as they still cheered for you, the way that you moved ingrained into his thoughts. Coming from the dressing room, you looked almost different, blending in with the audience. He walked to the door, as you talked with your boss, accepting the envelope, along with a quick hug.

Moving outside, he stayed not too far behind you. Seeing that no one was around, he sped up, intentionally bumping into you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, as his hand brushed against your waist.

“No, it is my apologies, I may be mistaken, but do you work at the Cabaret?”

“Yes, I do,” he watched as your eyes twinkled with joy.

“I’m Armand, I am the director of Théâtre des Vampires,” he held out his hand.

“Y/n,” you went to shake his hand but froze as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.

“I…I have to get home, my husband is waiting,” you told him, emphasizing the title, as he stared into your eyes. You couldn't deny the mysterious man was quite the sight.

“Allow me to walk you home,” he offered.

“Oh no, I wouldn't want to take up your time-

“Nonsense, a woman of your caliber should be escorted, perhaps we could talk business,” he said, making you smile.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to lead the way.

Armand was unnaturally enchanting in every aspect, a forbidden fruit your heart told you to stay away from, but your flesh tingled in his presence. It was an unspoken understanding that you could only see him at night at these shows. You anticipated seeing his youthful face, every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. He'd sit within the audience, watching your every move. Then backstage, approaching you, he'd always have a fresh bouquet. You would give him a look and he’d say something along the lines of how a star deserves flowers.

“Knock knock,” Armand said, catching your attention, turning from the vanity.

“Hi,” you smiled, standing up, and closing your robe.

“For you, the beautiful star of the show,” he said, handing you the bouquet.

“Thank you, Armand,” you told him.

“You never have to thank me,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss on top. Pulling away, as your heart leaped, you shifted your eyes.

“I have to get home soon,” you said.

“Right, your husband…it is a shame he doesn't come out to support you,” Armand said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“He works a lot”

“Unfortunate, I mean for him, because I get to have you to myself,” he said, smirking.

“Are you walking me home?” you asked, your face burning at his shameless joke.

“I'm ready when you are, angel”

You admired Armand, greatly, how confident, bold, intelligent, handsome-wait. Being around Armand, you oftentimes had to remind yourself you were married, as well as him. He had no problem blatantly flirting and laughing as you froze up in embarrassment. The two of you were growing closer than you should have been, while, it seemed like your marriage was crumbling.

“I don't want you working there anymore,” Philip told you, as you replaced the water in the vase, setting it near the window.

“Why? The extra money is helping…” you said, still staring at the flowers, Armand crossing your mind.

“My colleagues have been talking about the place nonstop, they think you’re some exotic whore,” he grumbled.

“Okay? There opinions aren’t paying us,” you told him.

“I don’t need them having you as a subject in the paper, you’re quitting,” he began to raise his voice.

“Philip, the money is great”

“I told you, I would provide the life you deserve-

“When? We’ve been out here for nearly a year and you have no signs of a pay increase. Am I supposed to sit around and hope? My mother was right about you,” you spat.

“What did you say?” He stalked towards you, your hands went up defensively as he walked towards you, as if you were prey. Raising his hand, he held it high, ready to strike you. You’d shut your eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

Opening your eyes, you watched as he stood still, realizing what he was about to do, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he began to repeat, reaching for you before you ran out of the building. As you made it down the flight of stairs, you mentally cursed yourself, realizing you forgot to grab your coat, but were too afraid to go back.

Instead you walked the streets, stopping in your tracks, seeing the familiar faces. The cast members dressed as creatures of the night. You were about to walk towards them when a hand lightly pulled you backward. Gasping, your face relaxed as you bumped into Armand.

“Hi,” you said, breathlessly.

“What are you doing out here, in the middle of the night?” He tilted his head at you. You could ask the same thing, they were all here, a good distance from the theater.

“Just walking around, clearing my mind,” you said, shrugging.

“Something happened?” He asked, a concerned expression on his face.

“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing,” you shook your head. Armand was the last person you wanted to burden your problems with.

“Then allow me to join you, we can clear our minds together,” he intertwined his arm with yours.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-

“Shall we go to the park? It’s quiet around this time,” he thought, leading you in the other direction.

“What are you all doing out here, in the middle of the night?” You asked him.

“Finding…inspiration,” he smirked.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course”

“Do you think it is wrong to regret big decisions you’ve made?”

“I think there are no coincidences, your mistake can lead you to your biggest culmination, regret is unnecessary, stress about something from your past, but tell me, what is it, you wish could have been done differently?”

“Maybe stayed home, pursued my dreams there, found a husband who was a man of his word, who supported my ambitions despite if others thought negatively of me,” you said, you hadn't realized you were crying until you felt Armand's finger brushing the tears away.

“This is nothing to be ashamed of, your dreams are coming to reality and I am a man of my word, I couldn’t care what anyone has to say when you’re on stage,” he smirked as you started laughing.

“And why is that?” You stopped walking.

“Because my eyes are blessed to see an angel and I don’t want to miss any parts of your beauty,” he said, as he gazed into your glossy eyes. Stepping closer, he pressed his lips against your own, and your arms guilelessly went around his neck.

“Where have you been, all my life?” you peered into his eyes.

“Waiting for you,” he said, kissing your lips, once more.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you giggled as the kiss broke.

“You’ve been worth the wait, come, it is getting late, I’m sure there are still some hotels opened-

“I can go home”

“Y/n-

“Trust me, I’ll be fine at home,” you smiled, as he redirected the walk to your apartment.

“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight?” Armand asked, as you both stood outside your door.

“Knowing Philip, he left,” you reassured him.

“Come to my theater tomorrow night”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“See you then,” he grinned, pecking your lips, before turning away.

“Edward, I don’t understand?” You frowned, trying to fathom what he was saying.

“I think it’s better this way, I’ve been more than grateful for the business you’ve brought to us, but we can’t risk having the article released, it will do more damage than anything,” he explained, his eyes full of pity.

You had extra time on your hands, stopping at your job, when Edward gave you the news. He was firing you, not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had received an anonymous tip about the cabaret soon to be in the media, and not for anything positive - going as far as being compared to a brothel.

All coverage wasn't good coverage in Edwards's eyes and he knew the target audience would turn away from the establishment in an instant.

“I'm sorry, Y/n,” he said, as you sighed, before putting on your best smile. You wouldn't cry now, sometimes this happened to big stars, you told yourself.

“It is alright, I wish you nothing but the best, goodbye,” you told him, leaving the cabaret.

You never looked back, keeping your eyes forward as you approached the ticket collector. His eyes snapped to you as he slightly frowned.

“There is a line,” he told you matter-factly.

“Is Armand here?”

“You can find out after you get in line just like everyone else-

“Y/n,” Armand walked outside, giving him a look. You watched as he lowered his gaze, almost in submission.

“Come,” he motioned, reaching out. Smiling, you accepted his hand, letting him lead you to his booth.

“Is there a reason you look like you’re on the verge of tears?”

“Just trying to figure out why everything is going wrong in my life,” you said, with a chuckle.

“Perhaps your culmination is closer than you realize”

“I hope you’re right”

“I’m in love with you,” your eyes widened at his words as you spoke at the same time.

“Armand, I-

“Since the moment you graced my eyes, I’ve been bewitched by your presence and…and I don’t want to leave it. I can give you the life you deserve, a stage to perform, love unlike any other, and pleasure beyond comprehension, choose me,” he told you, his eyes went to your lips, before he turned, watching as the lights dimmed.

Throughout the play, you could hardly focus, as your finger interlocked with Armand’s. His thumb caressed your warm flesh, bringing your hand to his lips. You could agree with your former colleagues, the play seemed real, almost too real. If it wasn’t for Armand’s swooning, you would be panicking.

You watched as the girl screamed, begging to be saved, but death came to collect. Surrounding her, her shrieking faded away as the curtains closed.

“That was…intense,” you gulped, as Armand laughed.

“It is all apart of the show,” he reminded you.

“Yes, doesn’t change that it was a little scary”

“You would look ravishing on that stage, whatever you'd like, singing, dance, it's yours,” he told you.

“I have to go,” you bit back your smiled, flattered by his bold promises.

“Stay, for tonight”

“I can't, it has been on my heart to write to my mother, so I want to get a head start,” you told him.

“Then will I see you tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” you nodded, accepting his kiss, before you left, making your way home.

Thinking of the steady decline of your marriage, you worried for your future, if you were headed towards a divorce. Your mother was the smartest woman you knew and although she was disappointed, you knew she would never turn her back completely. Like the prodigal son, you’d return home if it meant better circumstances, and your mother like the father, would accept you with open arms. Your heart wanted to believe Armand, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for more empty promises.

Settling back into the apartment, you sat at Philip’s desk. You wouldn't consider yourself nearly as good as a writer as he was, but he had taught you a few things to better your craft. Grabbing a pen, you started a bit formal, it had been a while since you'd seen your mother after all.

As your writing progressed, you poured your emotions out into the paper. Dealing with the suppressed feeling of being the reason for your brother's condition, your failed attempts at marriage, and your career, since leaving home. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you raised your eyebrows at the time. Had it already been two hours of writing? Albeit, there was a pile of crumbled papers.

Suddenly the door burst open, Philip rushed in, terror covering his face. Locking the door, he immediately went to the small kitchen, pushing the stove in front of the door.

“Philip?”

Hearing his name, his head jerked around as he met your gaze. Rushing over to you, he stopped, seeing you back away nervously.

“Y/n, please, I won’t…just let me explain,” he said, opening the manila folder.

“It started when you wanted to work at the Cabaret, I was so excited for you, I started an article, you were going to have an entire page. But…but then my brain began to get distorted and fuzzy, I could hardly think. Before I knew it, the article was on fire. I came to your show and I noticed someone”

“You came to my show before?”

“Always, after the first time, you came home gushing, I promised to try to make it,” he said, pulling out the stack of photos he continued.

“This man, he came to every show, front row, bringing you flowers,” he showed a series of pictures of Armand, some of the photos you were in. His arms around you, his lips pressed against your own.

“Philip-

“Just listen,” he shook his head, stopping you.

“I went to his theater, to confront him, to win my wife back, but then I found this, in his office,” he pulled out more photos.

“He has been watching you since we came here, from the time we arrived, there are photos of you taken. Then, I looked around, and what I saw, they aren't human, none of them. Those aren't plays, they're actual murderings,” he cried, showing the hardly developed pictures of the coffins and corpses in a box full of rats.

“I think he has been getting in my head, since I began to suspect him, I’ve felt like another person is living inside of me,” he said, wiping his tears.

“I waited until they all settled in for rest and I set the hell house on fire, we have to leave, now, we can go home, start fresh, leave all of this behind us,” he stressed.

Moving to your shared closet, he began to rip all of your clothing from the hangers, throwing them on the bed. You stood with your hand on your stomach, trying to process the photos. Indeed, there were photos of you from the moment you stepped off the boat. You didn't want to believe any of these bizarre claims, but here was the proof right in your face.

Unexpectedly, the stove was pushed out of the way, as the door burst open. Armand walked in, his hair slightly disheveled, the scariest glare set on Philip.

“Armand?” you called his name, hesitantly.

“Y/n, run,” Philip told you, as you jumped away from the table, the paper catching ablaze.

“Philip-

“Run, now,” he shoved you, right as Armand grabbed him. His hands around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Philip struggled, trying to free himself, gasping as fangs came out. Armand seemed to be growling at him, before sinking his teeth into him, determined to drain every ounce of blood from him.

“Run,” Philip strained, as you covered your mouth, rushing out the door.

Run, run, don't stop, keep running.

Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you'd drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.

"Sir," you called out, as you jogged to him.

"No, no, I'm closing," he pointed at the sign.

"Please help me, he's going to get me," you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.

"Come in," he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping into the glass.

"We have to hide," you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.

"You go," he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.

"Y/n," his eyes softened seeing your tear-stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.

"Please, don't kill me,” you cried, shaking your head.

“Shh, shh, there is no need to cry,” he consoled you, forcing your head into his chest.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Because he married you,” he admitted.

“What are you?”

“A vampire,” he shifted his eyes as you looked at his face.

“They weren’t acting,” you shook your head, trying to shove him away.

“Not at the end, no,” he confessed. Wrapping his arms you, he walked you out of the store. You continued to try to fight him, but he was much stronger, holding you effortlessly.

Lifting into the air, you gasped, realizing he was floating, no flying! Wrapping your arms around him, you shoved your face deeper into his soft coat. He smiled as one of his hands held your head.

“We were out hunting, when I noticed you, stepping off of the boat. I could hear your precious thoughts, you were sure you'd be the next big star. You had dreams but weren't putting yourself out there, so I sent Edward to you, and I made sure he paid you like the star you are,” Armand said, as his feet landed on top of the museum.

“I showered you with praise and gifts of all kinds, and yet you left every night, going back to him, what is it that he could possibly have that I couldn't give you?” he asked, a gloomy look in his eyes.

“He was my husband, he didn’t have much, but I loved him,” you cried.

“He wouldn’t have given you the opportunities you can have. He would work himself to death, not without cheating on you to fill the void within himself because he knew he could never give you the life he promised”

“You killed him,” you continued to cry. Rolling his eyes, he felt himself growing frustrated with you.

“Because I love you, I can love you better than his wretched human mind could ever think to fathom. I could give you the eternal gift, lavishing you, treasuring you, why can’t you see, has your love for me left that quickly?” he asked, as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

Glamouring you, he hoped to find the truth, that your heart had turned cold at the sight of him. Wiping your eyes softly, his hand trailed to your lips, brushing against them softly.

“No,” you said, breathlessly.

“Then choose me, you have no need to fear me, we will be companions, equals, I, your maker, and you, my angel,” he said, a bloody tear slipping out of his eye. As he looked away, you snapped out of the trance, your heart ached to see Armand this way.

“I don't think I can forgive anytime soon, but I love you and I want you,” you told him, as you began to cry all over. Reaching towards his face, you wiped the blood away, before cupping his face in your hand. Searching your face for reassurance, you nodded.

“This will hurt for a short moment, but our eternity together will make up for it,” he told you, softly pecking your lips. Swiftly dipping you, you held onto him, as his fangs sank into your neck.

“Then what happened?” Daniel raised his voice, leaning towards you.

“I drank from him, and became his fledgling. I would say the rest is history, but it’s on the blog,” you laughed.

“You forgave him, just like that, after what he had done to Philip?”

“She actually took nearly a decade before I didn’t hear anything anymore,” Armand said, lifting your hand to his lips.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to a few things,” Daniel said, writing on his notebook.

“Okay, let’s hear it”

“Philip said that he came to your shows, nearly every single one, up until you were fired. But, during your time with Armand, he always seemed to working”

“He was saying a lot of things that night, him showing up to my shows was the least important thing to me at the time, but it was like 80 years ago, I don’t remember it like it was yesterday,” you laughed.

“I understand, Philip and Edward both spoke about an article, did this said article ever come about?”

“No-

“The fire was talked about, it took any attention from Y/n,” Armand interrupted.

“And what of the Cabaret? The Vampire Theater?”

“As far as we know, no one made it,” Armand said.

“The Cabaret went out of business a few years into my new life, I hear it’s a bakery now, you should visit,” you told him.

“If I’m not busy, I will think about it. What about your mother and brother?”

“I checked on them a few times, but the bloodline has ended with me,” you said, your smile faltering.

“I see,” he nodded, writing a note down.

“I trust you will do well with my story Daniel, reflecting on my past, I was a child, I didn’t have a real grasp of love and what it meant. I cared for Philip, he is who influenced my writing, but I can finally understand how much I didn’t actually love him,” you told him before he stopped the audio recording.

“Well, that’s it,” he sighed, saving the contents, before closing the computer.

“Lovely, would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked, as Daniel rubbed his head.

“No, I already made plans,” he said, his head feeling distorted and fuzzy.

“Awe, too bad, let me at least walk you to the door,” you stood, leading him to the front door of the spacious penthouse.

Sitting alone, Armand clenched his jaw, his eyes sharply piercing the air. Years upon years, nearly reversed in a single session. He could tell by the way Daniel was asking these questions, he wanted you to remember the obvious, but the truth was far too blurred for you to ever remember things how things were.

From the moment he saw you, he wanted you, filled with jealousy seeing you kiss him. He immediately began to find information about the two of you, watching from a distance. He did hear your thoughts, about how you wanted to be a star, which is why he sent Edward to you. The Cabaret had been nearby for some time now and hardly got any attention, you could work there for a while until you were ready for his stage.

Philip had been to nearly every show, but Armand was too far into your mind for you to ever notice him. Dancing and singing for the vampire alone, he had changed your memory too many times for you to even recount your performances. His breaking point was after stalking you, approaching your apartment, his heart shattered hearing you moan for him. The man he despised.

Lastly, he wished him turning you was as romantic as you made it out to be. After you told him you didn’t love him anymore, he promised that you would learn to love him again, before draining you. The thought of the fire infuriated him, his hate growing towards him. Philip ruined his plans and for that, he paid with his death. You were supposed to be turned, in the most beautiful way, becoming the lead actress at his theater. All of his plans, plans for you, the both of you, went to waste, because of him.

Armand knew some would come to this conclusion, and begin to question why. The answer was simple, so simple that many would hate him for his actions. He was jealous, seeing someone have what he wanted, so he took it. He had lived too long to care about his decisions hurting others and he held no regrets.

“Hey, are you coming to get ready for bed?” You asked, coming back to the entrance of the living room. Standing up, in an instant, he stood in front of me.

“Am I forgiven for my choices, my angel?” he asked, rubbing his face against your hands as you held his cheeks.

“You don't have to ask, don't let this story get to you, it's in our past,” you told him, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“I love you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you too,” you told him, kissing him once more.

“I'll join you soon,” he said, watching as you turned, walking away.

Armand would never admit how prideful and monstrous his nature could be. Selfishly, he has taken you away from any and everything you knew, keeping you all to himself. However, none of these things mattered, he had won, in the end. You were a star, only meant to perform on his stage.

#interview with the vampire #armand x reader #amc iwtv #amc armand #armand the vampire

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hollowed-theory-hall · 6 months ago

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Harry Potter and PTSD

I think no one would argue Harry Potter isn't traumatized, but I actually wanted to go through PTSD symptoms and find evidence of them in book quotes. It's mostly as a fun, little exercise (the word fun is debatable here, it made me quite sad, actually) as I'm not a licensed therapist, and I have no qualifications to diagnose anyone with anything. But I wanted to take a look at some of how Harry's trauma manifests especially in the final 3 books as the signs of PTSD are most obvious and glaring after Voldemort's resurrection and get worse after Sirius' death.

(As the title and first paragraphs suggest, this post isn't a happy one, so beware. I will be discussing symptoms of trauma as shown in the HP books)

I will be using adult PTSD symptoms since:

Older children and teens usually show symptoms more like those seen in adults. They also may develop disruptive, disrespectful, or destructive behaviors. Older children and teens may feel guilt over not preventing injury or death, or have thoughts of revenge.

(Source)

All further quotes regarding PTSD and its symptoms and how they might show were taken from the same website linked above.

To be diagnosed with PTSD, an adult must have all of the following for at least 1 month: * At least one re-experiencing symptom * At least one avoidance symptom * At least two arousal and reactivity symptoms * At least two cognition and mood symptoms

So, let's get straight into it and go into the diagnosis categories:

Re-experiencing symptoms

* Flashbacks—reliving the traumatic event, including physical symptoms, such as a racing heart or sweating * Recurring memories or dreams related to the event * Distressing thoughts * Physical signs of stress Thoughts and feelings can trigger these symptoms, as can words, objects, or situations that are reminders of the event.

Harry definitely suffers from nightmares post-Voldemort's-resurrection, and memories coming back about it:

Had they all forgotten what he had done? Hadn’t it been he who had entered that graveyard and watched Cedric being murdered and been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed ... ? Don’t think about that, Harry told himself sternly for the hundredth time that summer. It was bad enough that he kept revisiting the graveyard in his nightmares, without dwelling on it in his waking moments too.

(OotP)

In the meantime, he had nothing to look forward to but another restless, disturbed night, because even when he escaped nightmares about Cedric he had unsettling dreams about long dark corridors, all finishing in dead ends and locked doors, which he supposed had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake.

(OotP)

And it continues even months later, he's still dreaming about the graveyard:

He was not going to share his dreams with anyone. He knew perfectly well what his regular nightmare about a graveyard meant, he did not need Ron or Professor Trelawney or the stupid Dream Oracle to tell him that...

(OotP)

Distressing thoughts are par for the course for Harry, but I'll bring up some examples:

And Harry saw very clearly as he sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon forever the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one, that the shelter of a parent’s arms meant that nothing could hurt him.

(HBP)

He feels responsible for all of their deaths even though they are all adults who chose to be there and protect him. Harry still feels guilt and responsibility over them, even when it isn't his fault, and he shouldn't feel responsible for those who stood between him and Voldemort.

While Harry shows physical signs of stress (such as a racing heart or sweating), They are shown in actual moments of stress where any human would be stressed, so I don't count them here since they are not an immediate result of trauma.

Regardless, I'd say he does have relieving symptoms. Recurring dreams, thoughts, and a sense of guilt are all present.

Avoidance symptoms

* Staying away from places, events, or objects that are reminders of the experience * Avoiding thoughts or feelings related to the traumatic event Avoidance symptoms may cause people to change their routines. For example, some people may avoid driving or riding in a car after a serious car accident.

Harry doesn't actually have the luxury to really avoid anything (poor boy) but he does avoid talking about his dreams of the graveyard, as mentioned in the quote in the Re-experiencing section. He doesn't tell anyone, not even Ron or Hermione about his nightmares. Neither does he want to talk about Cedric. He doesn't even want to think about the graveyard and Cedric as mentioned in one of the above quotes:

(OotP)

Even though Cho keeps bringing Cedric up to process her own experience, Harry does not want to talk or think about him and what happened at the graveyard.

She shook her head and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I’m — sorry,” she said thickly. “I suppose ... it’s just ... learning all this stuff... It just makes me ... wonder whether ... if he’d known it all ... he’d still be alive...” Harry’s heart sank right back past its usual spot and settled somewhere around his navel. He ought to have known. She wanted to talk about Cedric.

(OotP)

“I came in here with Cedric last year,” said Cho. In the second or so it took for him to take in what she had said, Harry’s insides had become glacial. He could not believe she wanted to talk about Cedric now, while kissing couples surrounded them and a cherub floated over their heads.

(OotP)

Zacharias said dismissively, “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You- Know-Who and that you brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to know — ” “If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith’s aggressive face, determined not to look at Cho. “I don’t want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.”

(OotP)

And when he mentions some of it, he's emotionally overwhelmed and stumbling over his words. He didn't really process everything that happened in the graveyard and he doesn't know how to talk about it:

Ron and Hermione were still smirking and Harry felt his temper rise; he wasn’t even sure why he was feeling so angry. “Don’t sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn’t I?” he said heatedly. “I know what went on, all right? And I didn’t get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing — STOP LAUGHING!” The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. He became aware that he was on his feet, though he couldn’t remember standing up. Crookshanks streaked away under a sofa; Ron and Hermione’s smiles had vanished. “You don’t know what it’s like You — neither of you — you’ve never had to face him, have you? You think it’s just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you’re in class or something? The whole time you know there’s nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you’re about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — they’ve never taught us that in their classes, what it’s like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I’m a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don’t get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t needed me — ”

(OotP)

He mentions how it isn't easy for him to talk about it when he does his interview for the Quibbler:

Harry had not found it an easy experience to talk about the night when Voldemort had returned. Rita had pressed him for every little detail, and he had given her everything he could remember, knowing that this was his one big opportunity to tell the world the truth. He wondered how people would react to the story. He guessed that it would confirm a lot of people in the view that he was completely insane, not least because his story would be appearing alongside utter rubbish about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. But the breakout of Bellatrix Lestrange and her fellow Death Eaters had given Harry a burning desire to do something, whether it worked or not...

(OotP)

So, I'd say Harry shows avoidance symptoms in abundance as well.

Arousal and reactivity symptoms

* Being easily startled * Feeling tense, on guard, or on edge * Having difficulty concentrating * Having difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep * Feeling irritable and having angry or aggressive outbursts * Engaging in risky, reckless, or destructive behavior Arousal symptoms are often constant. They can lead to feelings of stress and anger and may interfere with parts of daily life, such as sleeping, eating, or concentrating.

"CONSTANT VIGILENCE!" anyone?

But more seriously, Harry is extra vigilant and alert in the final 3 books especially. As mentioned in the above quote with Smith, Harry is more angry in the final 3 books:

“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again.

(OotP)

His temper, which was always present, got worse after the graveyard. In book 4, Harry holds Ron back from hitting Draco when Draco throws his usual insults:

“You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy

(GoF)

In book 5, Harry punches Draco himself over similar insults because he's angrier and has less of a handle on his emotions and reactions. He is barely aware of what he's doing:

Harry was not aware of releasing George, all he knew was that a second later both of them were sprinting at Malfoy. He had completely forgotten the fact that all the teachers were watching: All he wanted to do was cause Malfoy as much pain as possible. With no time to draw out his wand, he merely drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy’s stomach —

(OotP)

And in general, Harry is much more on guard:

He raised the cup to his lips and then, just as suddenly, lowered it. One of the horrible painted kittens behind Umbridge had great round blue eyes just like Mad-Eye Moody’s magical one, and it had just occurred to Harry what Mad-Eye would say if he ever heard that Harry had drunk anything offered by a known enemy.

(OotP)

He startles easily and is ready for an attack at all moments:

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then heard loud, running footsteps behind him; instinctively raising his wand again, he spun on his heel to face the newcomer.

(OotP - after the dementor attack)

Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy’s hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus, and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another —

(HBP)

“Pathetic, Weasley,” said Snape, after a while. “Here — let me show you — ” He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled, “Protego!” His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.

(HBP)

By HBP and OotP, Harry is always ready for an attack and he defends himself on instinct. It doesn't matter where he is or what he's doing, fight or flight instincts take over and he's acting. It's always there, under the surface, ready to spring.

After Sirius dies, we also see a change in what Harry keeps to himself and what he says out loud. All his sassiest quotes towards Snape come from after Sirius dies. Harry becomes more reckless with his words (and actions in general). The pain makes him care less about his own life and future:

“What are you doing, Potter?” said Snape coldly as ever, as he strode over to the four of them. “I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,” said Harry fiercely. Snape stared at him.

(OotP - after Sirius' death)

“Yes, sir.” “There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.” The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however, Ron, Dean, and Seamus grinned appreciatively.

(HBP - yes, this famous scene is because Harry is depressed)

This is Harry just speaking his mind with complete and utter disregard for the consequences of what comes out of his mouth. This is something we see with him only after Sirius died, as before that, he made an attempt to not anger his professors, even Snape. In the earlier books, Harry is all for de-escalating situations with Snape:

“What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?” Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down.

(PS)

“Let’s see,” he said, in his silkiest voice. “Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it’ll be a week’s worth of detentions.” Harry’s ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. He passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too — for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Harry alone at his table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. POTTER STINKS flashed once more across the room.

(GoF)

Harry may be thinking of wanting to say/do something, but he doesn't, because he has some self-preservation. This self-preservation disappears as the books go along. Harry in the early books is much more concerned for his own well-being than in the later books, and I don't think it's due to bravery or childhood trauma, at least, that isn't all there is. I think it's a reaction to some of his more recent trauma as well. A combination of feeling responsible for everything and thinking it's fine he goes through pain and danger because that's what he should do. In HBP and DH, he repeatedly says how willing he is to endanger himself, but not others. It's why he breaks up with Ginny, it's why he initially doesn't want Ron and Hermione to come with him on the Horcrux hunt. He thinks his own life is worth less. That it isn't so bad if he dies.

So he shows 3 arousal and reactivity symptoms at least.

Cognition and mood symptoms

* Trouble remembering key features of the traumatic event * Negative thoughts about oneself or the world * Exaggerated feelings of blame directed toward oneself or others * Ongoing negative emotions, such as fear, anger, guilt, or shame * Loss of interest in previous activities * Feelings of social isolation * Difficulty feeling positive emotions, such as happiness or satisfaction Cognition and mood symptoms can begin or worsen after the traumatic event. They can lead people to feel detached from friends or family members.

I already mentioned Harry's guilt regarding people "who stood between him and Voldemort". And it's true for this section as well. And I mentioned above how Harry considers his own life as worth less than others, which leads him to be incredibly reckless.

Besides the above two points, Harry also shows clear signs of depressive states:

On the fourth night after Hedwig’s departure Harry was lying in one of his apathetic phases, staring at the ceiling, his exhausted mind quite blank, when his uncle entered his bedroom. Harry looked slowly around at him. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit and an expression of enormous smugness.

(OotP)

Harry mentions that after the graveyard in the summer between 4th and 5th year, he starts having what he calls "apathetic phases", in which he just feels too tired to even think, just staring blankly at the ceiling. Him calling it "phases" as in, plural, suggests this is a common occurrence at the Dursleys.

Even later in Deathly Hallows, we see this is something Harry still does. After Ron leaves Harry and Hermione are at their most depressed:

She [Hermione] threw herself into a chair, curled up, and started to cry. Harry felt dazed. He stooped, picked up the Horcrux, and placed it around his own neck. He dragged blankets off Ron’s bunk and threw them over Hermione. Then he climbed onto his own bed and stared up at the dark canvas roof, listening to the pounding of the rain.

(DH)

Hermione reacts to her emotions by crying and letting them out, she's processing her emotions in some capacity, as hard as it is. Harry, on the other hand, just gets tired. His mind goes blank and he just stares blankly at the ceiling. Another one of these "apathetic phases". Instead of feeling, he goes numb.

We also see in book 6 how he loses some of his interest in Quidditch. The one pastime that reliably brought him joy, wasn't as important to Harry post Sirius' death. Sure, he was still playing, still interested, but there was none of the joy described previously. He doesn't have the same passion and interest even though he's the captain:

Harry smiled back vaguely, but as he pulled on his scarlet robes his mind was far from Quidditch.

(HBP)

“Don’t be stupid,” said Ron sharply. “You couldn’t have missed a Quidditch match just to follow Malfoy, you’re the Captain!”

(HBP)

Some of it is to follow Draco who Harry thinks is a Death Eater, sure, but Harry in 4th year would not have acted the same. He wouldn't have let it make him miss a game, he wouldn't have even considered it.

In Deathly Hallows we also see Harry struggling with happiness in many ways. Yes, the situation is bad, but he is so incredibly affected by it, and I do want to mention that:

But they were not living, thought Harry: They were gone. The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents’ moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent, unknowing. And tears came before he could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on his face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? He let them fall, his lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow hiding from his eyes the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living son stood so near, his heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing, at this moment, that he was sleeping under the snow with them.

(DH)

This above quote makes me so sad whenever I read it, and I do want to mention it here. Like, Harry isn't actively suicidal, but he's in a lot of pain that he wants to stop. These negative thoughts are practically a constant in DH even when he isn't wearing the Horcrux.

A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry’s despair, which was like a promise of a feast. ... He saw Ron’s silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and expire; he saw Hermione’s otter twist in midair and fade; and his own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling. . . .

(DH)

Harry is the character with the most reliable Patronus, but even for him at some point, it's too much and he struggles with it. Struggles to bring up the happiness he needs for a Patronus. The happiness part is what he always struggled with most when it came to this spell, after all:

“No!” said Harry. He got up again. “I’ll have one more go! I’m not thinking of happy enough things, that’s what it is. ... Hang on. ...” He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory . . . one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus ...

(PoA)

So, I'd say he shows at least 4 cognitive and mood symptoms.

Conclusions

Someone get this boy a hug and therapy, I really don't have much more to say.

I started writing this post to see if I could find evidence of PTSD symptoms in the books, and I searched and found so many that it just made me sad. So, yes, Harry obviously deals with untreated PTSD he has no idea how to regulate in the final 3 books and I think his readiness to walk towards his own demise is influenced by it.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #harry james potter #tw trauma #tw ptsd #tw sui ideation

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solarsturniolo · 3 months ago

Text

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: in which Matt is failing his classes and at risk of having to repeat the semester, and his tutor is the reason behind it.

𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗: This is a collaborative story that me and another person started on, but I am in charge of it now :) All characters in this story are of age. None of the characters are minors.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: cursing / smut / switch!matt / switch!fem reader / male masturbation / wet dreams / use of good boy / virgin!matt / p in v / oral (fem receiving) / oral (male receiving) / overstimulation / breeding kink / praise kink / mommy kink / scenes mentioning anxiety

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 3,700

Previous parts: Intro / One / Two /

He tossed and turned that night, unable to get the dream out of his head. It had all felt so real. He could smell her perfume, waves of vanilla surrounding him as he laid at her mercy. He could feel her touch, her soft fingers running along his skin, a trail of goosebumps following close behind, warmth encompassing him. He could hear her voice, soft praises and coos of adoration falling from her lips, her tone warm and sweet, flowing like maple syrup dripping from a stack of pancakes. He could taste her lips as she kissed him, her cherry chapstick driving him wild as he nipped at her bottom lip. He could see her electrifying gaze as they locked eyes, his orgasm rushing through his body like a lightning bolt striking a tree. It felt so real…

He tried to fall asleep again, really he did. He wanted to fall asleep again. He wanted to drift back into the heavenly dream he had previously found himself in. He prayed to whatever higher power would listen to him, begging to be transported back into his dream. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, peeking over at his alarm clock, groaning in annoyance, and repeating the cycle, Matt found himself sitting up in his bed. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand, unplugging it from the charger that was barely holding itself together after years of use. He tried to distract himself, hoping that the incessant scrolling and non-stimulating content would lull him to sleep. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky. Even after scrolling through and switching between apps, Matt only found himself wide awake, annoyed, and horny.

Undeniably, uncontrollably, unbelievably horny.

Matt opened the Safari app on his phone, clicking the address bar. The all too familiar website popped up without him even needing to type anything, a clear sign that he had made this search far too many times. Matt made a mental note to clear his search history as he clicked on the site, waiting impatiently for it to load.

He scrolled through page after page, briefly glimpsing at the exaggerated titles to each video, none of which captured his interest. He let out a frustrated grunt, his dick straining against the cotton fabric of his boxers. He wanted nothing more than to jerk off, to get rid of the incessant throbbing so that he could just sleep, but unfortunately for Matt, he was picky with the porn he watched. Chris made fun of him for it, but he didn’t care. Seeing a woman bent over on some AirBnB couch getting the shit railed out of her, filling the empty disconnected atmosphere with obnoxious sounds, feigning the one thing he truly craved; he just couldn’t bring himself to watch something so meaningless, nonetheless enjoy it. Nothing about it was appealing to him. It wasn’t real. He wanted something real.

But he had no idea how he felt about actual sex. He’d kissed a few times, but never with tongue and nothing past that. The furthest he had ever gotten was the time he made out with a girl in ninth grade and creamed his pants when she straddled his lap. Matt was always insecure about his inexperience, afraid that when the time finally came, he would disappoint. This was brand new territory for him…and it was all her fault.

His gaze flickered to the top of his phone, reading the time that was displayed on the screen. “Holy shit,” he muttered. It was much too late in the night for him to still be awake, and yet here he was, pulling on a pair of faded flannel pyjama pants before shuffling over to the door. His fingertips grazed over the handle, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. Matt looked down the dark hallway, and once he was sure everyone was asleep, he carefully tiptoed over to the stairs.

Each step had Matt tensing up, the old wooden floorboards groaning and squeaking under the weight of his feet. He cringed at a particularly loud step, even pausing for a moment to ensure he hadn’t woken anyone up. After another painfully long three minutes, Matt finally reached the bottom of the steps and made a beeline for the kitchen. In seconds he found himself standing in front of Nick’s bedroom door, and Matt raised his hand to knock but he hesitated. He leaned closer, his ear ghosting over the old faded wood. The muffled sound of the tv could be heard, along with Nick’s agitated remarks. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t fucking deserve her and now you’re getting her voted off!?” Matt smiled to himself. Once he was sure that his brother was awake and not murmuring nonsense in his sleep, he knocked on the door.

“God fucking- Yeah! Come in!.”

He opened the door to see the room bathed in lavender LED light, the television playing whatever show Nick had suddenly found interest in. Tonight, it just so happened to be one of those ridiculous dating reality TV shows. Nick sat in his bed, his back propped against pillows, legs stretched out and arms crossed over his stomach. He turned his head the second the door opened, half expecting Mary Lou to come lecture him for being too loud, but he relaxed upon seeing his brother in the doorway. “Jesus, you can’t sleep either?” Nick huffed. “Get in here.”

Matt furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, until he saw Chris’s head poke up from the other side of the bed. He was sitting on the floor, for whatever reason, and he flashed a cheesy grin when he saw his brother standing in the doorway.

“Why are you on the floor.”

“Wow, nice to see you too Matthew,” Chris rolled his eyes. “Nice of you to show your face at-“ he held up his arm, looking at his bare wrist. “Two thirty in the morning.”

“Ignore him,” Nick mumbled, rolling his eyes and grabbing the remote controller from his nightstand to pause his show. “He’s annoyed because Nate left him hanging-“

Chris huffed, an inaudible response following as he turned back around and sunk back down onto the floor. The other two shared a look of irritation at the sound of Chris typing on his phone, the younger of the trio completely unbothered by the incessant clicking. Rolling his eyes, Nick looked at Matt expectantly. “Well?”

Matt sighed, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. He sulked over to Nick’s bed, collapsing onto the empty side as his brother moved over to make space for him. Matt wriggled under Nick’s blankets, keeping his face buried in the pillow.

“What’s wrong,” Nick said, his tone changing the question to a demand.

The keyboard sounds paused for a moment. “Yeah, your vibe is like…weird,” Chris added. He langered up from the ground and sat on the edge of his brother’s mattress. “You didn’t talk to us like all afternoon.”

Matt sighed, questioning if he should say anything at all. But his brothers were his sanctuary. He always told them everything. It was eating him up inside, keeping this from them. He wasn’t good at keeping secrets, especially from the two people that could always read him like a book. He wanted to tell them everything; his grades, the tutoring, her.

He decided to take one life crisis at a time.

“...There’s a girl,” He started.

Nick shrieked. Chris looked at Nick, punching him in the upper arm as a proud smile formed on his face. “I fucking told you, you owe me lunch tomorrow.”

Matt looked up from the pillow, furrowing his eyebrows yet again. “You knew?”

“Well no shit,” Chris laughed. “You? Willingly going to the library? I put the pieces together,” he smirked. “So what were you doing in the library with this girl?” he teased.

Matt felt his face flush with heat, shooting a glare in Chris’s direction. “Nothing you’re thinking, pervert. We…” he trailed off. I can’t tell them I'm failing. I just can’t do it. “We were going over a project for English. That’s it.”

“Do we know her?” Nick asked as he opened instagram up on his phone. He wasn’t disinterested, but he knew how his brother was. Matt got embarrassed easily, so on the rare occasion that Nick did want to know more, he also knew that he had to be mindful of his reactions. Nonchalance was his best bet.

Matt huffed. Chris’s eyes widened and his smile grew. “No fucking way.”

“Chris-“

“Still?! It’s been four years, man!”

Nick looked back and forth between the two, confused by their exchange. Matt groaned, flopping back down face first into the pillow. “Matt liked this girl in our grade back when we started high school, but couldn’t grow the nuts to ask her out,” Chris filled Nick in. “We had her in our woodshop class last year and it was like I was partners with a brick wall,” Chris laughed, only making Matt all the more embarrassed. “I didn’t think you still liked her.”

“Shut up,” he groaned.

Nick finally decided to chime in, dropping his phone onto his chest. “Wait a second, it’s not that girl from your weird baking class was it?”

Matt’s face grew even more red, if that was even possible. “Nick, shut up-“

Now it was Chris’s turn to tilt his head quizzically, brow furrowed, looking at Nick expectantly for some context. “Baking class? The fuck-“

“Introduction to culinary,” Matt corrected them, hiding his face with the palms of his hands.

“You were probably at practice or something,” Nick dismissed his younger brother with a wave of his hand before continuing. “Matt’s cooking class had some weird competition thing after school, me and mom went to it-“

“Nick, shut the fuck up,” Matt warned his brother, though his threat was open ended and held no real weight to it. He rolled onto his side, his back facing his brothers.

“Matt made this god awful chicken parmesan, but mom pretended to like it-“

Matt huffed, crossing his arms over his chest now. “It wasn’t that bad-“ he defended, remembering the way his mother cupped his face and kissed his forehead in the middle of the classroom, praising him for his hard work, all the while his brother discretely tossed his plate into the garbage bin out of sight.

“Anyways, we all got to try everyone’s food and this girl made the BEST fucking coconut cream pie. Chris, it was actually unreal how fucking good it was-“

“Nick I swear to fuck-“

Chris smiled in amusement, criss-crossing his legs as he indulged himself in Nick’s story telling. It was rare for Chris to remain quiet like this, but at the expense of his brother’s ego, he remained engaged and attentive. Matt groaned, realizing there was no way to stop his brother from telling this embarrassingly awful story. He yanked the pillow out from behind his head, letting his head fall back onto the mattress before pulling the pillow over his face, wanting nothing more than to suffocate himself right then and there.

“This motherfucker tries the pie, looks her dead in the eyes, and tells her he likes her cream-“

Matt flinched at the ferocity of Chris’s laughter thundering throughout the room, echoes of it bouncing off of the walls. The sound was followed by countless shushes from Nick, beckoning their brother to keep his voice down. “Mom and dad are sleeping you idiot,” Nick hissed, smacking Chris on the arm. Usually, Chris would retaliate and hit him back, but he was far too entertained by the story to even care about the sting he felt on his bicep.

“You told her-“ he cut himself off, laughing again. Matt groaned and rolled over onto his back, pressing the pillow into his face with more force. Maybe if I press down hard enough, I’ll suffocate myself. “You told her you liked her cream?” Chris managed to force out between giggles.

“No-“ Matt grunted, closing his eyes tightly as he felt the pillow being snatched from his grasp. “I told her I really liked her cream.”

This, of course, causes another fit of giggles to rise from Chris’s chest. Tears flooded his eyes as he leaned forward, doing everything within his power to keep his volume at a decent level. Nick rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t contain the toothy grin that snuck its way onto his face. “You guys suck,” Matt grumbled. “This is like middle school humor, grow up,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest once again. He tried to push the memory out of his mind, but it crept up on him and lingered, like a monster in the shadows. Her fingers grazing past his as she handed him a plate, her gaze locking with his as he eagerly tasted her homemade dessert, the words escaping him faster than he could even think.

Chris sniffled, grasping his shirt collar as he found himself finally settling after his laughing fit. He laid himself between his brothers, wrapping an arm over the front of Matt’s shoulders. “I love you, man. You crack me up,” he grinned, another string of giggles threatening to escape him as he replayed the moment in his head again.

“I can’t ask her out, not after that-“ Matt mumbled, carefully uncrossing his arms so as to not disturb his brother’s comfortable resting position. He’d never admit it, but he quite enjoyed his brothers being touchy with him. Something about it made him feel safe and connected with them. It felt like home.

“Maybe she found it flattering,” Nick suggested. “She probably knew you were talking about the pie-“

“Or were you?” Chris smirked, raising an eyebrow at Matt.

In a swift motion, Matt walloped Chris in the bicep, shooting him a look that made Chris shiver. “Alright dude, my bad.”

Matt looked over at Nick, desperation clear in his eyes. “What the fuck do I do, man? I can barely fucking focus during our study sessions,” he sighed.

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you were working on a project?”

Matt felt his heart drop, his mouth going dry. Fuck. He needed to lie, and he needed to do it fast. “Same thing, you know what I meant,” he mumbled. He pushed Chris’s arm off of his upper chest, rolling his eyes when Chris moved his arm right back to where it had been seconds prior.

Nick dismissed Matt’s previous statement, not thinking too much of his slip up. “Tell her she’s pretty and ask her out. She is pretty, right?”

Matt’s eyes closed, his chest falling with a deep exhale. All he could think about was her. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, her voice…Once he had started to feel his dick stiffen in his pyjama pants, he opened his eyes once more, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t even find the words, man.”

“Then it should be easy. Can we be done here? I’m trying to see who’s gonna get voted off next,” Nick mumbled, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, his focus shifting back to the television on his dresser.

X O X O X O

Matt hadn't gotten much sleep that night. He watched with heavy eyes as the numbers on his alarm clock changed; every sixty seconds felt like an hour. His head spun, his imagination driving him crazy with fake scenario after fake scenario, conversations that would never happen, touches they would never share. His heart felt heavy. Matt huffed, rolling over onto his other side. He winced, his hand moving to relieve the ache between his legs. Never in his life did Matt feel as sexually frustrated as he did now. Even when he went through puberty, it was never like this. The desire burning in him was a flame so ancient, yet so ripe at the same time. Foreign, yet familiar. A primal hunger for physical connection, a thirst for release. Diseased with lust. It felt wrong to feel this way, to crave any piece of her. Hell, he hardly knew her. But God, it felt so right at the same time. To crave her, to need her, to have her all to himself. It was enthralling. Perpetual. Addicting.

The only downside to it was the sneaking around. He hated lying to his brothers, it made his stomach flip and his palms sweat, but he was far too embarrassed and ashamed to admit what was really going on. To admit that if he wasn’t nearly doomed to repeat senior year, she would have never even looked his way.

Although it wasn’t ideal, being in this tutoring program gave him a newfound purpose. And, yes, there was a possibility that the program itself wasn’t the only aspect that had Matt leaping out of bed in the morning.

It was strange. He had never spent so long trying to get ready in the mornings before school. Usually he’d throw on the nearest pair of sweats and whatever hoodie he had laying around in his room. But now it was different. He wanted to look good; he wanted to look good for her. He felt ridiculous, to say the least. Outfit after outfit, pulled on and quickly discarded into a pile on the floor. Matt huffed, going to his dresser and opting on a pair of cargo pants instead of his usual sweatpants.

It would be worth noting that February in Somerville Massachusetts is cold. Very fucking cold. By deciding on the cargos, Matt was also sacrificing his comfort and warmth…but if she would even notice or say anything, it would be worth it. And so, Matt snatched a purple crewneck from his closet and turned, shutting the door with his heel as he pulled it on over his head. He finished off the outfit with his air forces that were falling apart at the seams and, before he left his bedroom, he went back to his dresser, opening the top drawer. He dug around through the plethora of socks, his fingers brushing over the cold glass bottle buried beneath them.

He didn’t usually wear cologne. He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten this bottle in his possession. But none of that mattered to him now. All that mattered was making the best impression that he could. He was mindful; only one spritz on the neck and one on his wrists. He buried the bottle back into his sock drawer before rushing to his full length mirror. He fixed his necklace, ensuring that the clasp was at the back of his neck. Matt ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it and fixing it, huffing in annoyance as it fell right back into place. Once he was satisfied with his look, he grabbed his favorite coat from where it hung on the back of his desk chair and snatched his backpack from the corner of the room. He closed his bedroom door behind him as he left, flicking the light to his room off, and began his descent to the kitchen where his brothers were already waiting. He pulled his coat on, taking the last step down the staircase. Matt rounded the corner, passing the family room and finally stepping foot into the kitchen.

Nick’s gaze was locked on his phone, though he still managed to greet Matt. “Do you have a fucking herd of elephants up in your room?” He mumbled.

Matt’s face reddened. “Huh?”

“You-” Nick looked up, and immediately his brow furrowed with suspicion. “It’s nine degrees out and you chose today to not wear sweatpants?” He questioned.

Chris looked over his shoulder from where he sat at the island, shoulders hunched, his mouth full of toast. He didn’t bother waiting to swallow his food before speaking, though that came as a shock to neither of his brothers. “The fuck…you’re gonna turn into an ice cube.” Chris’s eyes widened as he took his phone out of his jacket pocket. “Wait, now I wanna listen to Ice Cube-“

Matt pointed at Chris languidly. “Not happening, I’m getting aux.”

Chris huffed, dropping his phone face down onto the countertop. “Fuck you,” he mumbled under his breath, shoveling the remaining piece of toast into his mouth. Matt shuffled over to the fridge, eyeing the contents inside. His stomach growled, but nothing seemed appetizing. He checked the pantry next, snatching a granola bar and a bag of mini muffins, stuffing them into his coat pocket. He closed the pantry door with gentle intent. His brow furrowed at the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket, but once he pulled it out and checked the notification, his heart leapt into his throat. Matt’s ears glowed a bright red, his palms beginning to sweat as he typed his password in and opened Snapchat.

Snapchat // New Message

no tutoring today, extra curricular stuff (groan). keep working on your essay and i’ll check it tmrw :)

Matt stared at the message, his heart sinking in his chest. All of the effort he put into his appearance today was for nothing. He exhaled, leaning against the wall as he thought of what to say. Something nonchalant, something cool…anything that didn’t scream desperation.

Oh ok.

He had to admit, he was disappointed. He had really been looking forward to seeing her again. He thought for a moment before he opened his Snapchat again, clicking back into the chat.

Yk I’m free after school if your still up for it.

He stared at the message for a long time; so long that her bitmoji had popped up in the bottom left corner, peeking out over the text bar. ‘Jesus Matt,’ he thought to himself. ‘For once in your life, grow some fucking balls.’

He clicked the send button and, with just as much haste, he fled the chat and locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket. “If you’re not in the car in five minutes I’m leaving without you,” Matt announced, walking past Nick towards the stairs, making his way down to the mudroom to leave. Nick lifted his head again, looking towards the staircase with a furrowed brow.

“Are you fucking wearing cologne?!”

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