#also I was wondering for several minutes what made them think that

[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my Sleeve CH.5

This chapter has been a labor of love. I feel so lacking in creativity, but yet writing is all I can think about! Once I sit down to write, my mind goes blank.

Anyway, this chapter is a little all over the place but I wanted to delve into some other topics/scenes from the timeline.

I hope you enjoy this one! Please beware that this is NOT proof read and most likely contains several errors. I will eventually get around to proof reading it.

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: angst, stepcest, drugs, swearing, pregnancy, smut(a whole drawer of warnings), discussion of suicide, swearing, domestic violence, mama and daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of abortion, talk of death and killing, idk what else lol

18+ mdni

SERIES MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS PART

----

THEN

To say that Rafe got possessive once you found out you were pregnant would be an understatement. Nothing you did was okay with him if he didn’t know about it first. No schedule change or unpredictable plans were allowed to be made without an argument ensuing and a slew of angry texts and missed calls.

You’d try telling him that you needed to keep everything normal and the same as it was before so to not draw any unnecessary attention to the two of you and your situation. But he’d tell you he "didn’t give a fuck”, and “that’s my kid you’ve got in there so you tell me this kind of shit.”

More times than not you’d wonder if you’d only become an incubator for his precious cargo. Whether or not he cared solely about the baby under your heart or also about its mother. So when you go grab tacos with two of your closest friends, you finally lose it when Rafe blows up your phone wondering where you are and why you didn’t tell him you wouldn’t be home. You’d left the house at 6:30, not knowing where Rafe was or when he would be home. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in his gut when he silently opens your door to find your bedroom empty, his mind racing to the worse case scenario, or maybe it’s the demon buried deep inside of him needing to control your every move.

Your sat at the table at your favorite Mexican restaurant not even five minutes from tanneyhill, chip half dipped into the bowl of guacamole when your phone chimes. The conversation between the three of you halts, and you wave your hand, telling them to continue as you flip your phone over, already knowing who the alert was from. You try to keep a straight face as you read the message.

7:02PM Rafe: Where are you?

You look it over, re reading it three times before debating sending a simple reply, instead deciding to push the power button and set it back down on the table, flipping the silent switch before you do so.

You don’t exactly know why you don’t want to answer, as if the reply takes too much energy. But the two things that come to your mind first is that you not only feel suffocated, but you want to forget for just a moment.

Then at 7:08 he calls you. You obviously don’t answer.

7:08PM Rafe: This again?

2 more missed calls.

7:12PM Rafe: Am I really that shitty of a boyfriend that you don't even want to answer me?

7:15PM Rafe: You’re testing me aren’t you? Why?

7:19PM Rafe: You know I can see where you are right? You’re sharing your location with me.

You stopped sharing your location with Rafe.

7:21PM Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me? I swear to god I will show up there in 5 minutes and drag your ass out of there. Turn your location back on. I’m putting my shoes on right now.

You started sharing your location with Rafe.

7:22PM Rafe: So you can read all my messages and turn your location off and on but you can’t reply?

7:23PM You: I’m with my friends. Girl friends. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

7:24PM Rafe: Yeah but that doesn’t work for me. I want you here now so wrap it up. If you need me to get you let me know.

You can’t help but scoff, raising your eyebrows which elicits a question from one of your friends asking you who’s texting you. You put your phone in your purse and try to forget about Rafe’s overbearing for an hour with your friends. Casually, you tell her it’s your mom going off about you not telling her you wouldn’t be home for dinner like you’re 14 years old. But when not even fifteen minutes go by and your friends are sat across from you looking over your head at what’s behind you, you ball your fists and finish the last sip of your drink before relaxing in your seat. You almost wish you would’ve just told them the truth. You can see the confusion on their faces as they blink from above you to eye level with you.

You can feel him next to you, but you pretend you don’t. Your friends mutter a confused “Hey Rafe…” before he’s bending down to your level to look at you. Reluctantly, you turn your head to look back at him and his brows shoot up. He silently places a $100 bill on the table and calmly tells you “Let’s go, we’re leaving."

You make the mistake of rolling your eyes, looking back to your friends.

“My friends said hello, Rafe. Why don’t you say hi?” You briefly look to both of your friends, hoping your gaze offers a silent apology.

He straightens back up, pulling your chair out for you. You finally look up at him, his eyes still locked on you as you now meet them with yours. “We haven’t even ordered dinner. I’ll be home in an hour.” You try to tell him, but he’s got your bag in his hand and his hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet. His lips are next to your ear, hot breath casting a wind across your neck.

“Do not make a scene here. We’re leaving. Say goodbye.” He tells you, and you look back at him once more before looking down at your friends and telling them that your mom made your favorite and you’d rather avoid a blowout. The girls nod skeptically, looking at you and then at each other and then back to you.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll text you.” You tell them simply, before Rafe is tugging you to walk in front of him. His hand finds your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant and your phone vibrates in your hand. You glance down at it to see the name of you and your friends group chat pop up in your notifications. It reads a simple question.

“Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can as you walk to Rafe’s truck before you type out a quick reply.

“Totally fine, so sorry. My mom’s been a maniac she Rafe’s just trying to avoid another explosion. I’m actually grateful lol"

Both girls love the message, and you quickly slip it into the pocket of your jeans as his arm leaves your back to open the door of the truck for you. You look back at him and he raises his brows, thrusting his hand forward for you to get in. You huff and relent, grabbing the inside handle and climb in.

You scoff and shake your head, pissed and upset as he climbs into the drivers side. He starts the engine and pulls into the street, not saying a word to you so you take the silence as an opportunity.

You don’t think before you speak, and you regret it instantly.

“Maybe I should’ve had an abortion."

The words fly out faster than you mean for them to, your tone dripping venom as you look ahead at the lit up road, totally vacant. He doesn’t respond, and you look next to you to him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. His brows are furrowed and his lip is curled in disgust. You know he heard you when he cocks his head and swerves the truck violently into the shoulder.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone drips with hatred, his head cocked but keeps his gaze straight ahead. You’re watching him, turning your body fully in your seat. You wonder for a brief moment if you should grovel, mumble out a quick “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” But for the briefest moment you wonder if you actually did…

“No…no, no. Say that again. Say it, I dare you.” He says darkly, finally turning his head to look at you. Your eyes connect and he’s staring at you so deeply you wonder if he can see the turning of your insides.

You’re silent, and his eyes squint like he’s trying to see better.

“Come on baby say it. Say it again. I want to hear you say that shit to me again.” You flinch when his hand jets out to grip the back of your neck harshly, and you cry out in surprise, muttering a “Rafe, stop.” before he’s dragging you closer to him, your belly jutting into the console. His nose presses against yours and he shakes your head as if to wake you up.

“Did you actually fucking say that? About my baby? Wish you would’ve done it, huh? You hate me that much?” He’s seething, seeing nothing but red, glitter sparkling his vision as he tries to focus on you. You try your best to pull your head back, but it’s no use as his grip is strong on your neck keeping you pressed to him. The bow breaks and you can’t help but shout;

“I don’t know, do you hate me that much?! It’s so fucking hard to tell!” Before you continue, his head cocks, his cheek meeting you nose as he takes a deep breath and laughs humorlessly.

“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Are you okay? I mean shit I know hor-"

You cut him off, pushing him back with your hands on his chest to be able to look at him.

“No Rafe! I’m not fucking okay! Thank you for finally asking! Why did you have to ruin tonight for me? Why wasn’t I allowed to get dinner with my friends? Five fucking minutes away from our house? Did you see any guys there? Any drugs on the table? Any alcohol? I didn’t even get to eat dinner! But because I’m having your baby it doesn’t matter right?"

He scoffs and furrows his brows in confusion, trying to get a word in but you slap him instead. His cheek burns, his lips parted in shock as he looks at you and rubs the mark. He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at you with intent. Your chest heaves and your hand goes to cover his on his cheek and you can’t help but mumble a “sorry…I -"

He cuts you off, hand leaving his face to grip yours.

“I am fucking terrified, okay? Aren’t you? You’re not — you don't get it! Baby you don’t fucking get it. Listen to me…no, listen to me!” You try to wrangle your head out of his grip, but both hands reach over to grab both of your cheeks between his hands, forcing you to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and his nostrils flared.

“Look at me, you remember that night don’t you? I know you do. Look at me and tell me. Do you mean it? You wish you aborted the baby?” He asks you this rhetorically, but maybe you really do wish you’d just done what Ward told you to. You take a deep breath and fight the tears that threaten to spill over, and they do when you clench your lids closed in regret. Your hand subconsciously drifts to your middle and you shake your head in Rafe’s hands.

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is soft now, coaxing you to open your eyes and when you do, he’s ducked his head to look as close at you as he can and you quietly say “No.” He silently nods his head once, and you can’t help the tears that fall down your cheeks and over his fingers.

You’re still shaking your head and you tell him again. “No, no I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it. I want her.” You tell him honestly and you see him smile for the first time in so long and he leans down to kiss you, pecking your lips deeply. Your body is rigid against his, sobs shaking your form as you say again “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay, I know.” He tells you like he’s comforting a child. “I need you to hear me right now, okay?” He asks, serious, pulling away from you to bring your head up to meet his gaze.

“I paid people so you’d get to keep the baby. My father will pay people so that we can’t. Whether that’s right back where we were, or ripping her from your arms. Tell me you understand that. You are not safe. We are not safe.” He says, shaking his head.

You look at him, silent for a moment, and your mind betrays you. You allow yourself to imagine the moment your baby comes out of you and instead of Rafe there, it’s Ward. And instead of your slimy baby being placed on your bare chest, they’re whisked away from you without any words exchanged.

Your hands absentmindedly find Rafe’s forearms that are still holding your face in his hands and you mutter a small “I understand."

“Yeah?” He asks you, and you nod and tell him again that you understand.

“Don’t bring me back there tonight, I - I can’t go back there right now.” You softly say, your mind mushy and your emotions ruined.

You see him nodding, and he calls Topper, asking him if you can use his pool house.

Next thing you know you’re pulling into Top’s driveway, his parents away on vacation and it’s probably the only reason Rafe came here rather than paying for a hotel room.

When you get inside, and the blinds are drawn, you settle on the edge of the made bed having kicked off your shoes and unhooked your bra. You’re watching him pace around to make sure the windows are locked and covered well enough, and when you assume he’s satisfied with the barricade, he finally looks at you. You and all your messy glory. But you’ve shed your pullover and now you’re just in a thin tank top, your bra removed and he looks down to your bump. It’s more prominent, unable to be hidden in regular clothes, and he laughs when he sees the makeshift hair tie closure on your jeans.

You can’t remember the last time you heard him actually laugh. Not laugh without humor, not scoff, but actually laugh with genuine joy. You can’t help but smile with him as he closes the space between you, brushing your hair back from your face and tipping it back so you can meet his eyes.

“Getting bigger, huh?” He asks, still smiling and you nod, hand resting on the biggest part of your belly. At 14 weeks, you were unable to wear most of your clothes, save for 2 pairs of jeans that still closed with a makeshift tie, and some oversized tops and sweaters. You were afraid that you were approaching the point where wearing sweaters in the heat of summer would raise suspicions. You mumble a quiet “mhm”. Your other hand drifts down to said makeshift tie to undo it, freeing your lower belly from the restriction. You shift so you can wiggle them down and over your hips, Rafe watching your movements. You move to stand in front of him and tug the denim all the way down to your knees, allowing them to slide the rest of the way off and kick them off with your feet. His hands drift down your neck, over your arms, to your hands and he grips them, bringing each up to his mouth to kiss each palm while watching you.

You’re watching him back, eyes glued to his as he presses slow, open mouthes kisses up your arm until he drops them and palms your lower back with one hand while the other cups your neck to tilt your head up so that he can crane his neck and press his lips to yours. It feels like too long since you’ve been kissed like this by him, your shoulders slumping in relief as his tongue slips past your lips to flick against yours.

You’re putty in his hands, kissing him back as eagerly as you can while your hormones rage and your emotions are tangled. Your hands rub up his back and around to his biceps, falling down to his elbows where your hands cup, trying to pull him closer to you.

As he takes a breath, you pull your head back to speak.

“You’re gonna love her more than me, aren’t you?” You ask shyly, unable to look at him when you ask, your hands falling away from his body to find the edge of the mattress, lowering your body down to sit.

You don’t see the furrow in his brow as he looks at you confused, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear as he cradles your chin in his palm. He moves to his knees before you, and you allow yourself to look at him as he does, looking at you with worry.

“Why would you say that? Gonna love ‘em just as much as I love you.” He tells you, trying to say the right thing. Truth be told, he did love the baby inside of you more deeply than he understood. But wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t he supposed to? Did he love the baby more than he loved you? How was that even possible?

“There wouldn’t be any baby in there if I didn’t love you as much as I do.” He tells you softly, and you nod in acceptance.

“Not just a way for you to continue your legacy?” You ask quietly and now he’s truly confused. He tells you to look at him, and you do.

“I’m gonna tell you this because I don’t want to hear any nonsense shit like this again. M’kay?” He asks you, and you nod.

“If we didn’t make her, I don’t think I’d still be here right now.” Now its your brow furrowing, and your hands move to grip his, cautiously asking him what he means. He takes a deep breath and flutters his eyes closed like he’s ashamed.

“You know what I mean, baby. Don’t make me say it. Can’t live without you and you know that.” He tells you, honestly and the tear that falls from his eye as he looks at you through saggy lids tell you everything you need to know.

You gasp without meaning to, and you can’t help the guilt brewing in your gut. The idea of a world without Rafe in it makes you want to throw up, your hands gripping his like a vice, and you beg him to never say that again.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do this without you.” You tell him.

“You don’t have to. I’m here.” He says simply, rising up to kiss you again, his lips soft and hesitant against yours like he’s asking permission, and you lean back on the bed in approval, relenting and his hands snake up to your bottom, fingers squeezing to drag you further up the bed, settling on his knees in between yours.

Your lips find a pace against his, allowing him to find clarity in your movements. Your hips mindlessly buck up against his and he breaks away from your lips to run a hand down the valley of your breasts down below your belly to the hem of your tank, pulling it up and over your head to leave you bare except for your panties that remain the only barrier he can’t see past.

Your chest is heaving, watching him hover above you, and your hands find their way to the hem of his own shirt, tugging on it trying to lift it but needing his help and he chuckles, pulling the shirt off from behind his head, throwing it to the growing pile of your clothing on the floor.

He watches your face as he drags his fingers past the top of your panties to use the tip of his pointer finger to brush down the middle of your panties, the pressure against your clit making you arch up off the bed to gain friction. You moan his name and look down at him. He’s leaning back on his calves, shirtless and watching you squirm in need of more.

“What is it baby?” He teases, cocking his head while he watches you in fascination, his fingers ghosting over your clothed slit, and you nearly cry in frustration. “Please don’t tease me, Rafe.” You groan, using your feet to try to tug him closer to you. But he tuts and tells you to “Relax”.

“Mama’s needy huh?” He croons, watching your expressions with lust, finally using his fingers to tug the crotch of your panties to the side so he can rub your cunt properly.

You throw your head back with a “yes!” falling from your lips. He uses his pointer finger to push inside of your gummy walls, his thumb coming to rub firm circles on your clit, the pressure tightening the knot inside of your gut. He adds his pointer finger inside of you, curling his fingers upward to push at the spongey spot inside of you, knowing your body so well.

His other hand comes up to rest on the swell of your belly, your hand instinctively covering his and lacing your fingers through his. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a rapid speed, your hips bucking up off the bed when you’re about to snap. “Gonna make me cum Rafe!” You squeal, pushing out to feel yourself gush around his fingers, pushing up on your elbows to watch him. He’s watching his fingers fuck in and out of you, the wet squelch of you taking him in over and over. You collapse back against the soft mattress again after your chest stops heaving.

Rafe’s fingers leave your core and you can’t help the frustrated grunt that leaves your lips without intent. He climbs off the bed to unbuckle his jeans and push them down his hips to the floor, his boxers going with them. You lean up on your elbows again, watching him with hooded lids, heavy with bliss as he climbs back between your legs, using his palms to trail up your calves and behind your knees to press them into your chest, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

“Such a pretty mama, doing so good for me baby. You ready for my cock?” He asks sweetly, trailing kisses down your cheek to your jaw and finally locks his lips with yours and pulls back to look at you. You nod at him meekly, looking up into his eyes and he tell you to “Use your words, pretty girl."

“Yes, yes please, need your cock.” You say with confidence, chasing his lips with your own, craving the contact. His hands tighten on the backs of your knees, almost folding you too tight. He’s careful not to rest himself on your belly, though. He locks his lips on yours as he lines himself up with your cunt, but collects your wetness on his mushroom tip as he lets go of one knee to guide himself up and down your slit before guiding himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He stills when he’s buried all the way inside and your mouth falls open in a sharp cry.

“Oh, fuck…so fucking deep. Oh my godddd”. You whine, craning your neck up to press your forehead to his, his bangs hanging in your eyes. He pulls back to rest on the backs of his calves, using both hands to once again press your knees beside you in a mating press and tells you to look down at yourself.

“Look how good your pretty pussy swallows me baby. She takes me so well.” You whine in defeat, trying to drift your eyes downward, but at this angle flat on your back, you realize your belly is too large to see past. You huff in defeat and tell him “can’t see, rafe…tummy's too big.”

Something snaps inside of him and he hastily brings a hand behind your neck to grab a fistful of hair from the back of your neck to crane your neck up at an uncomfy angle, and you try thrusting your head back, but he stuffs a pillow behind you instead, tugging your head up farther. “Look down baby. Look at yourself dirty girl. Watch daddy fuck you.” You whine at the name and look down again and with the pillow behind you, you watch as his cock drags slowly out of you, shiny with your fluid before disappearing again. It’s painfully slow and you groan out.

“Fuck, Rafe…so deep, hurts so good.” You whine out, hands finding his forearms to steady yourself. The pressure he’s building inside of you is becoming too much and you can’t help but clench around him. He feels it and chuckles, leaning down to breath against your lips. “Noooooo baby, don’t do that. You can take it, you’re doing so good baby girl don’t push me out.” You whimper at his words, your nails digging half moons into his skin and you can’t help the mewls and whines that pour out of your mouth.

He starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with lewd wet sounds, white cream forming around the base of his shaft as his sock leaks seed into you. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum…need mama to cum too. Can you cum for me?” He asks, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand, too fucked out to hold his stare. You look back down to where he’s disappearing inside your body, his thumb now rubbing your pearl and you clench around him before letting go, pushing out again and gushing around him. He groans and paints the inside of you with his seed, mouth agape with curses and moans pouring out like music to your ears. Hearing Rafe cum was one of your favorite moments together. Getting to hear how blissed out he was to be with you. How you made him fall over the edge.

----

NOW

Rafe’s hand on your belly moves to leave your skin but the hand resting atop his keeps it where it is. You break your stare with Sarah to look over to him, his eyes trained on the road but you see the clench in his jaw and cringe on his face, his nose scrunched in revolt at having to listen to you describe that night to his sister.

Your other hand cradles the side of Rafe’s face that faces the truck window and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder to press a gentle kiss his neck. You know how hard it is for him to relive one of the worst nights of his life, knowing that somewhere inside of him almost believes that it was real.

“I’m sorry.” You mouth against his neck and bring your cheek back down to rest on his shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed before quietly saying “I think I’ve shared enough.” Before opening your eyes again and locking them with Sarah’s, her head nodding briefly and you can see the tears threatening to fall from her bottom lids.

It’s a sick thing to talk about, you know you’ve overshared, but it’s reality for you and Rafe and the unborn little girl underneath your hands. It was the only way to truly allow her to understand any of this. It’s hard to still give a shit about other people, but you think salvaging an aunt for your daughter isn’t beyond reach. So you’re trying. Whether that’s okay with Rafe or not.

His voice jolts you suddenly. rugged and tired. “How much longer am I driving here, Sarah?” He asks without looking at her and she fumbles with her phone, stuttering with nerves, you watch her hands tremble as she turns her phone upside down in her hands and tap it back open. “U-Uhhh, it’s just straight ahead for another mile and then you’re turning left.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her answer, instead following John B’s tail closer, clearly antsy. He huffs out a breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Y/N and I are going to the Bahamas after your friends load the cross into that piece of shit. I need you to keep dad occupied until tomorrow.” He’s curt and to the point, looking over at her briefly, Sarah nodding once and saying “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.”

You wonder if you’ve traumatized her, dragged her into your fucked up reality. How could you not have? It was not an easy pill to swallow knowing her father truly was a monster. You think that up until now she thought that family was above all else to him and that he’d prioritize herself and her siblings above all else. You’re a little bit sorry you had to be the one to crush that idealization.

Sarah’s telling him to turn left and as he does, he says “Hey Sarah?” and your eyes look up to his face. You couldn’t have guessed what came from him next.

She hums as he asks “You think dad would ever make you kill your kid?” He turns his head to look at her and she looks at him sharply, sucking a breath between her teeth. You can’t help but to rush his name our of your lips in a scold, and you tense, your stomach clenching in unease, shocked tears forming in her eyes and she shakes her head. It’s a trap question - that you’re smart enough to know and you know she is too. He doesn’t even expect an answer. Because he knows that she knows the answer and that he knows it all the same.

No. Ward would never. And that’s why he wrapped his hands around her neck that night and shoved her underwater. Ward seemingly took away his little girl, so he’d take his away, too.

You wince and it hits you hard that your daughter will not be having a relationship with her aunt. Not if her dad can help it. The hatred he feels for his sister stems so deep inside of him that allowing the idea of his child to grow to love someone he so deeply hates makes his insides sick. He will not allow his own flesh and blood the chance to be rejected by her like he had been his entire life.

It was his way of telling you without telling you that no - Sarah would not be staying in your life.

For the first time, you have no rebuttal. Because you finally understood how deeply the betrayal and loyalties lied, and there was no way to explain it away or reason differently. And for the first time, you were okay with the outcome.

----

Please interact! It’s pretty much the sole reason we as writers continue to write. I’d love to hear from you guys what you’d like to see in this story via ask box/requests. I will answer any and all submissions! NOTE that I will NOT add you to the tag list if you are only commenting to add to the list.

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See y’all soon!

[the-mountain-flower]

Met another queer person on the bus today :)

I'm wearing large earring in the asexual colors. Got on the bus, and this awesome-looking person in alt fashion, great makeup, and a pentacle necklace gave me a curious look and the limp-wrist gesture.

After realize they were asking me, I responded with the limp wrist and a nod, then gestured to them questioningly, to which they responded with a nod and a thumbs up.

Very happy :)

[hedgehog-moss]

I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.

I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.

I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.

Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"

I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.

The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.

I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.

M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!

Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.

Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)

As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)

He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.

We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!

I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[rationaliity]

cockwarming | dr. ratio & gallagher

here you areeee !! your wish is my command ~ ratio and gallagher are a little mean but that's really it. also slightly ignoring on gallaghers part ? it makes sense when you read it idk i cant think of what that kink is called for the life of me

RATIO —

ratio was going to make you listen, even if he had to force it a little bit. it wasn't directly his fault that you weren't able to stay still, sat on his lap with your arms lazily slung over his shoulders, your legs straddling his with his cock firmly inside of you, stretching you out. he'd told you to do something simple : just keep his cock warm for him while he finished this bit of paperwork that he had to do, and then he would reward you for your time and efforts. if he could do something he didn't necessarily want to do, then so could you.

at first, you were all too eager to agree to these terms, even unzipping his pants for him and getting on your knees to get his cock wet enough for it to slide in easier. this was new to you, so of course you wanted to try it out to see if you liked it. besides, how often do you get to bother ratio while he's working on his papers ?

but now you were whining in his ear, begging for him to do something. you couldn't take this anymore, not with him filling you up all the way to the top and just staying there. you were completely stretched around his cock, milking him for all that he was worth. and with every annoyingly pitiful whine, you squeezed around him even more than you already were.

" you seem to have a problem following even the most simple of tasks, " he lowly hissed in your ear. his free hand that wasn't holding his ink pen grabbing your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you squeal a little. " i ask you to do something as easy as sitting still, and yet you still find a way to mess it up. i wonder how. "

despite his cruel words, you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, begging for more attention than what he was getting. the both of you were at your breaking point, needing more than just the warmth of your bodies colliding, but his ego wouldn't let him admit that he couldn't hold himself back either. and if you were to mention it, he would surely find a way to turn it back on you.

finally, he sat his pen down, both hands on your waist, picking you up and sitting you on his desk. you yelped almost immediately as you were separated from his body, the friction of him sliding out of you almost making you orgasm right there after thirty minutes of just sitting as still as possible, but before you could really react, his lips were on yours, tasting you feverishly. ratio's hands forced your legs apart, grabbing each of your thighs so he could nestle himself in between them, his cock more than a little ready to release everything inside of you.

" i've found your specialty lies more with taking my cock rather than warming it. "

GALLAGHER —

you figured that there was going to be absolutely no way that gallagher had better control over himself than you did. he was always needy whenever he could afford to be, always asking for your time, always wanting more of you than just a simple kiss here and there. so when the two of you made a bet that he could restrain himself from fucking you with his cock inside of you, you thought you just had a unique way of initiating sex as a game.

several minutes later, and gallagher had his cock nestled inside of you, and seemed perfectly content to continue doing what he was doing beforehand, much to your confusion. he had one hand lazily holding your waist as you sat on top of him while he laid in your shared bed, his other hand scrolling on his phone, probably looking at new drink mixes that he hadn't thought of before. that's really all he used social media for, which honestly didn't surprise you in the slightest.

and you were struggling, even though you didn't want to admit it. you really thought he would've cracked by now and started to fuck into you, but no, he hadn't. but you were dripping with need for him, needing more of him than what you were getting, and you were beginning to grow as desperate as you were impatient.

" gallagher- " you whimpered a little bit, your voice coming out as far more needy than you anticipated. " how are you holding up ? " you asked, hoping that this was all just a facade. but nope, he just glanced towards you, looking up from his phone with an almost unamused look on his face.

" i'm perfectly fine, doll. why ? didja think that just because i want to fuck you, it means i absolutely need to ? " if you were anyone else, maybe that would've stung a little bit. but you knew how he was at this point, that slight arrogance in his tone even when he didn't intend to sound egotistical was just how he sounded. but he was getting you back for thinking you had one over on him, that was for sure. you wanted to prove him wrong, but you were playing right into his hand.

" if you want it so bad, then do the work yourself. come on, doll, show me how worked up you can get. "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

[vbecker10]

The Night Nurse (Part 1)

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 (in progress)

Request:

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the newly appointed night nurse for SHIELD and you couldn't be less excited about it. You have been given the side task of finding out who is stealing supplies from the infirmary. Soon after you start, you learn Loki is the one who has been slipping in at night to patch up his wounds and you confront him about why he can't heal as quickly as Thor. He reveals a dangerous secret he is keeping from the team and you worry increasingly for his safety as the two of you become closer over the next few weeks.

Warning: You asked for angst so I shall give you angst lol but also... some mentions of blood, minor injuries needing stitches, Loki generally feeling alone and isolated, arguing between you and Loki, very brief mentions of Loki's torture, Loki being an ass in the beginning, swearing, a pretty major injury towards the end but no one dies... a romantic ending was requested so of course there will be fluff and cuteness and whatnot it just won't be in part 1 (sorry)

A/N: I really really hope you like this @glitterylokislut! It accidentally got super long and I just went with it so I hope that's okay. Thank you so so so much for sending this request! I love it 💚

You have been given your new assignment by Director Fury and Dr. Palmer and to say you are less than thrilled about it is as understatement. You are officially the first and only night nurse for SHIELD, stationed in the Avenger's Tower. Unfortunately for you, Fury and Dr. Palmer thought you were perfect for the job and it was made clear that there was no room for you to turn down the transfer.

You were doing inventory a few days ago and noticed several discrepancies which you immediately brought to your supervisors attention. The decision had been made to staff the infirmary at all hours and since you discovered the issue, you were tasked with finding out who was stealing the supplies.

So here you are for the sixth night in a row and nothing... not a single patient, thief or otherwise to keep you occupied. Not that you are honestly sure what Fury expected you to do if you caught someone stealing. You aren't an agent and whoever it is has to work for SHIELD since no one else could even access this floor. Very few agents lived full time at the Tower and the ones who are here at night are working. This really only left the members of the Avengers but you can't understand why any of them steal bandages and gauze, it just doesn't make sense.

What is more concerning for you than the specific items being stolen is that whoever it is has been able to avoid the security system. While the infirmary itself has no internal cameras, the cameras in the hall leading to the elevators are all in perfect working order. Fury had the tech support team check and recheck the security system but they couldn't find any glitches or issues. No one had been seen entering or exiting the infirmary on the nights when the inventory went missing.

Maybe the Tower has a ghost, you think to yourself as you finish the inventory checklist yet again. You double check your count and note that nothing is missing. Tossing the clipboard onto your desk, you pull your book out of the top drawer and settle in for what you assume will be another long, uneventful night.

About five minutes later, you hear something coming from the main section of the infirmary and get up from your seat. Holy crap! There's actually a thief, you think as you leave your office quickly.

You stop short when you see Loki rummaging through one of the metal cabinets, one that you know you had locked only minutes ago. "What are you doing?" you ask him. How the hell did he get in here? you wonder. You hadn't heard the door open.

The tall prince looks up a bit startled by your sudden appearance but he doesn't respond.

"I'm not allowed to let you take supplies," you tell him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You hadn't been prepared to confront a god, you had hoped it was some young agent who didn't know the rules or an older one who was too cheap to buy band-aids.

He curses under his breath in what you assume is Asgardian and slams the cabinet closed. He glares at you and turns to leave.

"Wait, do you need help?" you ask noticing the items in his hand are for stitching a wound and there is a hastily wrapped bandage on his left forearm.

"No," he answers in a harsh tone.

You put your hand on your hips and say, "You can let me help you or you can leave. If you leave, you can't take the supplies. I'll have to report this as theft of SHIELD property to Director Fury."

"Fine," he grumbles and walks towards you slowly. You point him towards an exam table and roll over a stool then you take the items he gathered, setting them out on a tray next to you. He watches you intently while you work, you aren't sure if he is trying to make you uncomfortable but it is clear he doesn't trust you.

How the hell did he cut himself like this? you ask yourself as you open all the tools you will need. And what is he doing here anyways? He has accelerated healing, the same as his brother. He shouldn't be bleeding this-

"Thor is not my brother," he corrects you. "And the manner in which I was injured is none of your concern, mortal."

You sit back and look at him angrily, "Get out of my mind. You know you aren't allowed to use your telepathy on SHIELD employees." He shrugs at your outburst but sits quietly while you finish closing his wound.

"Done," you say when you add a bandage over the closure. You snap off your gloves and push your stool away from him. You can't imagine he will thank you for your assistance so you add, "You're welcome, now get out. I have to clean up."

You turn away to pick something up and suddenly feel as if you are alone. When you look back towards the exam table, he is gone. You shake your head in confusion and walk over to open the infirmary door, the hinges creak loudly as it swings open and closed.

A few days later you are completing the last of your paperwork just as someone knocks on your office door. You gasp in surprise and nearly drop your coffee, looking up to see Loki standing in your doorway. He is holding his right bicep and lowers his gaze to the ground in front of him to avoid eye contact with you. His demeanor is completely different then the last time he was here.

"Would you help me?" he asks almost as if he expects you to say no.

You sigh and nod, "Of course, it's literally my job... even if the person who needs my help is an ungrateful ass."

He flinches at your harsh tone and says, "I am sorry I was unkind to you last time I was here."

"You were a jerk," you tell him flatly, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back in your chair.

"I was," he says to your surprise. "I apologize for my behavior, it was uncalled for."

"Accepted," you say, not wanting to waste anymore time since you could now see blood begin to seep through his fingers.

He sits on the exam table you motion towards and begins to unbutton his dress shirt. You turn towards the cabinet to grab the things you need and when you look back you are struck by how annoyingly hot he is. You quickly remember that he can and will read your mind so you try to push the thoughts away but you are not fast enough. Loki looks down as he folds his shirt and places it next to him, the corner of his lip curling into a smile.

"Okay," you clear your throat. "Let's see what you did this time." He moves his hand and you see the long gash on his bicep. "Wow, you did a pretty good job on this."

"Yes, I thought the bleeding had stopped but it began again so I thought I should come here" he says.

"Good thing you did. It's going to need a lot of stiches, more than last time," you inform him. "Do you want anything for the pain?" you ask when to get up to grab a few more things from the cabinet.

"It doesn't hurt," he shakes his head.

"Really?" you ask, not sure if you believe him but you don't press the issue.

You sit close to him on your stool and begin to work on his arm quietly. Loki doesn't make a single sound or move an inch while you clean and stitch his wound. You reach for the tray to grab something and realize he is watching you again but this time he's studying you and not your work.

"So what happened?" you ask him. You are fairly certain he wasn't sent on a mission this week.

"Training with Thor," he says simply.

You nod, sensing that he won't give any more details even if you continue to ask him questions. You glance over at his right forearm and pause mid-stitch when you don't see the injury you treated last time.

"It healed," he answers before you can ask what happened.

"Stop reading my mind," you tell him and go back to what you were doing. He doesn't respond and you assume that means he doesn't intend to listen to you. You decide to search your mind for a song that can easily get stuck in a person's head, hoping that if he does go sifting through your thoughts he will at least be annoyed. It might be childish, but it's the best solution you can think of at the moment.

You look up at him when you are finished, sitting back on your stool you say, "I know the other day wasn't the first time you snuck in here." He tightens his jaw and gets up from the table, buttoning his shirt without saying a word.

"Are you the one who's been stealing supplies?" you ask him even though you know he is. He ignores your question but you don't think it is because he is being rude like last time. He almost seems distressed that you know his secret so you add, "I didn't tell anyone it was you."

"I know you didn't," he finally responds. "I assumed Fury would have spoken to me if you had." He is silent for a moment than he says, "Thank you," before turning to leave the exam room.

"Wait," you follow after him. "I can't keep hiding this from Dr. Palmer and Director Fury. They are going to want to know who was taking the supplies."

He turns to face you, "Why didn't you tell them it was me?" His curiosity seems genuine, as if he fully expected you to turn him in the first time you saw him here.

"I'm not sure," you shrug. "I guess I wanted to talk to you about why first you were doing it but then you pissed me off and I just wanted you out of here as soon as possible."

He nods, "Again, I apologize for how I spoke to you. I was not expecting anyone to be here but that is not an excuse."

You are stunned by the second apology and the abrupt change in his attitude since last time. Maybe I'll have a better chance of finding out why he is clearly not healing well now.

"I would rather not discuss that tonight," he says as he walks away from you and you know he read your mind again.

"Loki, I can't pretend I don't know it's you for much longer. Fury is going to want to know why the supplies are missing. It's the whole reason I'm here this late," you tell him.

He puts his hand on the door to leave and looks back at you, "I know you do not owe me this but please, do not tell anyone... at least not yet."

You sigh, "Fine, but this is the last time."

He nods and you watch in awe as he simply vanishes from sight. So that's how he gets passed all the cameras, he can just disappear?

It's been a week since you've seen Loki and after the fourth day you had decided he wasn't going to come back. You hope you will be able to finish out the next few weeks without any additional discrepancies in the inventory and things would go back to normal. Just as you are about to open your book, you hear him call your name and you roll your eyes. Of course he's back, nothing ever works out simply for me.

You walk out of your office to meet him, expecting to find the God of Being Annoying and Evasive needing a handful stitches like he has the last two times he visited but he appears fine. "Hi again," you greet him with the least excited tone you can manage.

He grimaces and takes a few steps towards you but falls, grabbing his side tightly as he collapses onto one knee. You move quickly to grab him but don't see anything wrong until he moves his hand and his illusion flickers. There's blood on his hand but it vanishes then appears again when his magic gives out. His shirt is covered in blood and you hold onto him, helping ease him to the floor.

"What the hell happened?" you ask trying not to panic. You remember your training and move his shirt to the side so you can see the injury clearer. He flinches when you press his hand on the open wound and tell him to keep it there. "Shit," you mumble a curse then get up to grab everything you need.

You kneel next to him and take care of his wound as quickly and cleanly as possible, stitching the long, deep cut closed. Thankfully it wasn't any deeper or you might have needed to call for help, the wound was too close to his lung to not be taken seriously. When you finish you help him sit up slowly and he uses his magic to clean the blood off his clothing.

"You need to stay here and rest," you urge but he shakes his head no.

"It will heal," he says and he tries to get up. You help him so he doesn't hurt himself further but you keep your hands on his arm. "Thank you," he tells you then takes a step away from you but you don't let go.

"Stop," you get his attention. "You can't leave, this wasn't just some little cut. You were stabbed really close to your lung. This isn't okay Loki, you're not fine."

He takes a deep breath as if to prove his lungs are clear and says, "I appreciate your concern, Y/N, I truly do but I need to deal with this on my own."

"No you don't," you argue. "Just tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help."

He shakes his head, "You are an excellent healer but this is beyond you."

"I don't get it, why are you getting so badly hurt. I thought you had accelerated healing abilities like you bro- like Thor," you correct yourself before he has the chance.

He gently rests his hand over the wound on his side and tries to reassure you. "I will heal, it just takes a bit longer than it used to. Thank you once again for your help Y/N," he says before he vanishes.

Three nights later, you are sitting at your desk looking down at your tablet while you drink your second cup of coffee. You've clicked on Loki's file but haven't opened it yet, your fingers drumming on the desk rhythmically as you think. You have treated him several times now so it isn't a violation of his privacy to view his chart but for some reason it feels like it is. You sigh and open his file, maybe whatever he is hiding from me is in here.

You intend to skim his chart then log his recent visits like you should have been doing but you pause completely confused. His file is almost blank, his name and general information has been filled out but there is not a single visit to the infirmary listed. How is that possible? He must have been able to heal at one point but he doesn't seem to be able to anymore.

You exit his file without adding anything, determined to talk to him the next time you see him. You only need to wait fifteen minutes before he knocks softly on your office door.

"Loki, are you okay?" you ask, your voice has more concern than you meant.

He nods and holds out his hand when you walk towards him, "It is only a small wound tonight."

You look closely at the back of his hand and agree, he will only need a butterfly bandage or two and some gauze. You hold his wrist gently and lead him into one of the exam rooms. Loki sits on the table and you roll your stool close to him with your tray of supplies next to you.

"What happened?" you ask, reaching for the tape and he hands it to you, "Thanks."

"A training accident," he says and you nod, unsurprised.

"I need to log this into your file," you say as you throw out the garbage. "The other injuries too," you add.

"I would rather you didn't," he says.

"I know but I need to, it's proper procedure. I could get in trouble if I don't," you explain. "I could lose my job."

He sighs and remains seated on the table. You sit on the stool again and move closer to him. "I'm sorry, I never meant to cause you trouble," he says.

"Well... maybe if you tell me what's going on, I can keep it out of the record," you suggest. He looks up at you as you can tell he is thinking about your suggestion. "I can't tell anyone what we talk about, if that's what you're worried about, doctor - patient privilege and all," you explain with a smile.

"You're a nurse," he says, but his tone isn't condescending like it is when some people call you a nurse, it is as if he is simply clarifying a fact.

"Yeah... it's the same concept," you sigh. "Loki, you can trust me. I don't want to see you keep getting hurt like this," you tell him honestly, touching his hand lightly and he looks into your eyes.

You aren't sure if he is reading your mind or not but finally he says, "You must promise me, no one will know what I am going to tell you."

"I swear," you agree.

Loki shifts uncomfortably on the lightly padded table and looks down at your hand over his. He sighs deeply then says, "I cannot heal the same way Thor does, I have never been able to."

"What!?" you ask unable to hide your shock. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that but... I don't understand."

He says, "Accelerated healing is an Asgardian trait and I am not a full Asgardian, I am half frost giant. When I was a child, I thought I healed slowly simply because I was smaller and weaker than Thor but now my lack of abilities makes sense."

"But how did you hide it all this time?" you ask. "Someone must have noticed you were always getting hurt."

"My mother helped me," he explains. "She taught me to use my magic to create illusions to hide my injuries and dull my pain. When I was alone, I would use my spells and potions to heal myself."

"And no one knows, not even your brother?" you ask in disbelief.

"Not even Thor," he shakes his head.

"But wait... so this was obviously working fine for the last thousand or so years, why isn't it working now?" you ask confused.

"There is something wrong with my magic," he tells you and your heart sinks. "It has been fading since I was taken by the Mind Stone."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest

[nicolinocolino]

@wolfstarmicrofic | May prompt #22: locked in a room | word count: 806

“You look silly like that.”

Sirius, with James’s invisibility cloak pulled up to his neck, was just a floating head bobbing next to Remus, following him around like a puppy on his prefect rounds.

Sirius winked and pinched Remus’s cheek. “Well, I’m out past curfew. Wouldn’t want to be caught.”

Remus blushed. Potent satisfaction swelled in Sirius’s chest.

Yet with only a week left until the end of their sixth year, he was tired of playing this game. Remus was never going to make the first move, which left the life altering decision on whether their friendship could survive love — requited or not, forever or not — up to Sirius.

“Stupid,” Remus mumbled, smiling.

Sirius pulled the cloak over his head and completely disappeared.

“Sirius. Stop it.”

Sirius giggled.

Remus stretched his arms out, trying to snatch the cloak. “Sirius, c’mon, where are you? You know what, whatever.”

Still hidden and following several long paces behind, Sirius let Remus walk all the way up to the seventh floor. “Moooooony,” he’d call every few minutes in a hollow voice, like a ghost. “Oh Moooooony.”

“Fuck oooooffffff,” Remus would sing back.

He acted annoyed, but Sirius saw the smile on Remus’s face. It was starting to feel dangerous being alone with him. Many a daydream involved this very scenario, with Sirius pulling Remus under the cloak, unseen, kissing him hot and fast until they were out of breath.

Sirius contemplated. His own thoughts made his face warm and zipped an energy through him he didn’t know what to do with, so he took off running. He didn’t try to hide the sound his pounding footsteps made.

“Sirius? AAHHHHG!”

Sirius tackled Remus around the middle, cloak slipping off his shoulder, knocking the wind out of them both. “Gotcha, Moons!”

Remus grabbed his shoulder and tried to pry him off. To Sirius’s surprise, he also pulled out his wand.

Sirius cackled. “Gonna hex me, Moony?”

“Thinking about it,” Remus exhaled, but pocketed it quickly. “You drive me nuts.”

“Tell me about it.” No, really, please tell me about it.

Arms still wrapped around Remus’s middle, their faces a breath away, Sirius could feel his heart beat incessantly in his temples, his longing almost giving him a headache. It would be so easy to kiss him right now.

“That’s odd.” Remus pulled away and Sirius let him.

“What?”

“The room of requirement just appeared.”

An intricately carved door, which was not there a moment ago, had nestled its way between two sleeping portraits.

Remus pulled the map from his pocket. Studying it, his eyebrows pinched together. “No one is around,” he said, looking up again and peeking down both ends of the hall. He turned back to Sirius. “Did you need something?”

“No,” Sirius lied. He was very certain he knew why the door had appeared.

“I wonder what’s inside…” Remus trailed.

Sirius very pointedly did not indulge him.

“Don’t you wonder?” Remus asked him, his annoyance turning playful. “Let’s go inside.” Remus held the door open for Sirius, and they both stepped across the threshold.

It was simply a broom closet. Cramped, dark, dusty.

“Well, this is stupid,” Remus mumbled. “Perhaps someone’s jinxed it?”

Sirius doubted it. “Maybe.”

“Let’s go then.” Remus reached for the door, but it was gone, as if it had never been there at all. He palmed the wall in a panic.

Sirius groaned and tipped his head back.

“It’s gone,” Remus breathed. “The door is gone.”

“It will come back,” Sirius calmed him.

“It’s jinxed,” Remus said to himself. “It’s a prank. Oh Merlin, is this what James was trying to tell us he was working on? I’m going to —“

“Moony. Moony.” Sirius grabbed Remus’s chin to turn his face towards him. They both stopped breathing. “It’s not jinxed.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I summoned the room,” Sirius grimaced. “On accident, but I think I did. And now it won’t let us out until I get what I asked it for.”

Remus’s eyes bounced across Sirius’s face. His stare lingered on his lips. “What did you ask it for?”

Sirius’s heart ambled up his throat until he was choking on its pulse. His grip, still on Remus’s chin, slid up to cradle his face. Sirius smoothed his thumb across Remus’s cheek, who leaned the weight of his head into Sirius’s hold. Fuck, why was this so easy and yet so hard?

“The courage to do this,” Sirius whispered, guiding Remus down to kiss him. Soft, slow, scared. When their lips met, his stomach flipped and his knees might’ve buckled.

Sirius felt Remus sigh in relief across his cheek. He threw his arms around his shoulders and felt himself be tugged in by the middle.

When they broke apart, amazed and grinning and on the verge of disbelieving laughter, the door was back.

[boytumms]

Hey guys! This is a little collab I did with @let-me-fill-you, they've sent me many wonderful prompts in the past and I liked one so much I asked them to expand one so I could draw something for it!

Although it is a fine summer's day, you are cold, beneath the earth. For several minutes, you have followed the abbot into the bowels of the monastery, far deeper than you believed, deeper even than the catacombs. Thankfully, it hasn't been a single spiralling staircase all the way down, or else your head might've twisted off from sheer dizziness. But there is a growing pit of unease in your stomach. Where is the abbot leading you? And why now, immediately after you took your vows? Every time you think to ask, the words catch in your throat or the abbot speaks first, "This way." You are grateful for his guidance, at least. It's a maze down here - and the architecture has taken a turn for the unfamiliar, making the darkness all the more unnerving. Could it be that the monastery was built atop an older structure? The order is old, dating back centuries. You haven't the slightest notion of what might've come before. But you have a growing suspicion you're about to find out.

Soon, you see light ahead, stronger than the lantern borne by the abbot. You see a barred door, flanked by two members of your order... but they're not dressed in the monastic habit. Instead, they are clad in fine armor, made of what appears to be... silver? It gleams in the fire-light, lustrous and covered in filigree. No, not filigree, you realize as you draw closer. Runes. Protective spells. Your eyes drift from one's cuirass to his belt, and what you see isn't a cudgel - as expected of simple monks - but a blade, slender and deadly. Your blood chills, on the verge of becoming ice. You look to the abbot in trepidation.

The abbot's expression is grave. "Now that you are one of us, bound by oath, it is time you learned the truth of our order - our shame, and our obligation." He beckons you closer to the door - a great, heavy door, barred not once but twice. You hesitate to move from your spot, but the abbot is patient (and insistent). As you step forth, you console yourself with the knowledge that a door like this is not easily opened, and you are not alone. You should be safe. Should be...

Once you're close enough, the abbot slides open a slot for you to peer through, into darkness - but you hear it before you see it, whatever it is. You hear... moaning? It's dull and low, but clearly in pain. It's enough to raise your hairs; you feel the urge to pull away before something lunges out of the darkness, but you also feel the abbot's gaze boring into your skull, locking you in place. So you continue to stare into the darkness, until your eyes adjust.

And what you see is... a boy? Pale and thin as bone, his face veiled by a head of unkempt hair. You cannot tell if he's conscious, but his lips are open, from which the moaning emanates. He is chained to a rock, jutting out of the ground like a crooked tooth, kept halfway between standing and laying. His wrists, locked tightly within manacles bolted into the stone itself, are starkly red and raw from chafing. You imagine his ankles are similarly bound, but you cannot see them because, well... his stomach is in the way. You cannot believe your eyes. This isn't a gut swollen in hunger, but a sack of flesh, bloated like a fat mosquito, hanging from his skeletal frame all the way down to the rough stone floor, obscuring the entire lower half of his body. His belly, though it feels inappropriate to call it that (it doesn't look like an extension of himself, more like he is attached to it) is huge and ugly - shaped like a droplet from some great weight inside it, and wider than his shoulders, stretched perilously thin and marred with unflattering stretch marks and spider veins. Chains crisscross the gravid expanse, again not made of iron but hallowed silver - and wherever these hold tight, there seem to be burn marks.

Your stomach curdles. What could possibly necessitate this barbaric treatment? Then, as if in direct response to your thought, you see it - something huge and powerful, squirming and shifting within the boy's belly, pushing this way and that, recoiling from the silver, protruding in between the gaps. This isn't a silent affair - you hear the boy's skin creaking as it is stretched to its utmost, you hear sloshing (of amniotic fluid?), you hear sizzling as the tortured skin makes contact with the silver, and worst of all you hear a muffled growling of something vicious and hateful, and you hear the boy's moaning increase...

But it's cut off by the rasp of metal, as the slot is shut in front of your face, startling you. Refocusing on the abbot, you blink a few times, readjusting to the lantern light on this side of the door.

The abbot's expression has not changed, but did he always look so tired? Perhaps it is you who has changed, from the person you were just a minute ago, before you saw that. You look deep into his eyes for answers, a justification of any kind.

He tells you, with solemn cadence, "You must bury whatever sympathy you have for that boy. He contains Armageddon - a monster so terrible that, had it been allowed to enter our world, would have doomed us all. It is trapped in there, but we must remain vigilant. So long as he carries that monster, it will not allow him to age. And he must not die, or else that thing will be free to find another host, another womb to bear it. It may seem cruel to keep him like this, but remember your vows. You have a duty to your brothers and sisters, and the world beyond these walls. You must close your heart to his suffering. In the days to come - not today, or tomorrow, but soon - you'll be expected to feed him, to give him water. It's a heavy burden we share between us, so the onus does not break any one of us. And when that time comes, he will speak to you. He will cry, he will beg, he will howl and scream for the slightest of accommodations, a loosening of his shackles, anything to alleviate his pain, and you will know in your heart that his pleas are genuine. You must not listen to him. The devil does not speak through him - it has nothing to say to us - but it will use our better angels against us." The abbot places a heavy hand on your shoulder. "No one is deserving of that boy's fate. But he must suffer it all the same."

After that, the abbot leads you back to the surface, back into the warm light of day. But you remain cold.

[bella-goths-wife]

Hiya, I love reading what you've done so far with the Vees, I was wondering if I could request a bit more for Velvette x pet reader (whether it's physical affection or just how she'd mark/show you as hers), or her just slowly becoming more obsessed with you. I don't know, I just need more of this woman.

How does velvette show ownership over Vs pet reader

Thank you so much, I hope you like this :)

Warnings: forced affection, forced ownership, abuse, obsessiveness

Velvette has always felt a slight bit of insecurity and jealousy over the fact that she wasn’t actually the one who owned your soul

She knew that the Vs shared everything, even souls and workers

But she always had that irrational irritation over the fact that you made the deal with vox instead of her, making him your actual owner

She knows realistically that you can’t refuse any order she gives you, you’d be severely punished within minutes and vox would surely yank on your leash to remind you that the mutts preform tricks when an owner commands it

So she counteracts this with her own methods instead

She’s always felt envious when she sees vox bring out the chained leash that connected your soul to his ownership and how easily he could make you submit to his will with a single yank of the chain, so velvette decided she’d give you a collar too

She’d always disliked the markings around your neck, she saw them as a crude reminder of your brutal death

So when she presented you with a tight collar in her colour scheme and with a golden V on the front, she thought you’d see it as a favour to you

She’d seen the away you rub the marks around your neck with a grimace, sometimes making the skin irritated and sore

She thought you’d see the collar as an ingenious remedy for your insecurities and her need for control

You did not

You initially tried to refuse the collar but with one threat of putting the one she picked on or she could happily have Val lend you a shock collar instead, you donned the cruel reminder of your lack of freedom

She’d have you wear the collar whenever you were working with her, and on the days she felt particularly in need of control she’d attach a matching leash to it and have it wrapped around her fist at all times

That way you’d have to follow her wherever she went no matter what

This only further made you out to be a hopeless pet puppy who followed the Vs around like a loyal mutt to your coworkers, who would also yank on your leash or collar whenever the Vs weren’t looking

Another way velvette would show ownership over you would be whenever she spots someone in the tower trying to pursue a friendship or relationship with you

Anything like a friendly smile from someone else and she’s rushing to your side and interlocking your arms in a painful hold or holding your hand with a harsh amount of pressure

The affection will show that your owned to the other demons, and the pain would remind you of your lack of freedom or choice in this agreement

Velvette hates affection most of the time, so as soon as that person who got too friendly with you has left she’ll let go

Unless she’s having a particularly vulnerable day

If something has set her off that day and she needs to calm down, she’ll lay her head down on you and command you to play with her hair

It’s a gesture that reminds her of childhood in a simplistic way, and you are the only person who she’d allow to do this for her

If she felt particularly jealous one day, she’d command you to do this while in the room with vox

It’s like her own private ‘fuck you’ to him that you follow her commands

I also think velvette would absolutely dress you up in clothes in her style and colour scheme to show ownership

I actually believe that she’d pick your clothes out every night ready for the morning

It’s the way she proves her ownership of you to you

She’s always had a present fear in the back of her mind that you’ll start to rebel against her because you know she’s not the one who owns your soul, so this action of controlling your clothing is reminder to you that there is no escaping that you are also hers

She needs you to know your hers, that you belong to her and that she’s never letting you go now that you’ve become an obsessive project for her

[n0tamused]

A/n: I sort of strayed a little with this one I feel like, but thank you sm for the request, and I hope you enjoy this!

Contents: Mortefi x GN!Reader, jealous reader, reader is very stubborn I must say, not proof-read. lemme know what you think!

Words: 3059

It’s suffocating. Uncomfortably warm and slimy. This feeling that roils within your chest and throat, you’re sure you’re about to start feeling sick from the thoughts spiraling within your mind. And the lab papers in front of you and the endless sound of the machine’s beeping is not enough to distract you.

Beep-beep-beep.

Have you done something wrong? What could it be? Only minutes prior were you looking at these papers with some sense of pride, imagination running wild with the possible outcomes of this hypothesis, positive ones. Yet, they were so easily shattered when Mortefi breezed by, catching a glimpse of the words printed on top, leaving several comments of where you could improve - how you should improve if you want to go through with this. Had you had a clear mind you would’ve done as he said, taken his words as helpful advice and not as an attack on your work. But his tone remained the same as always, it didn’t soften nor did it grow warm. So it made you wonder what he meant, or rather - what he really felt towards you. The latter was a question that occupied your mind for a long time.

He moved past you to the center of the lab, nearing one of the many lit computers, just where Baizhi stood. From afar you could see them greet one another and begin to talk. And that feeling in your chest only expanded further, pawing at your ribs and making you frown at the helplessness. Mortefi looked interested in whatever their topic of conversation was, and it lasted some odd few minutes. Odd minutes you couldn’t keep your focus until both of them left to their own stations, and far out of your sight. 

A heavy breath fell from you, irritated but also… sad. 

With your mind in a strewn about yarn, threads hanging, you began to think if this work was even worthy for you. God knew you wanted it, you signed up for it, you spent nights studying and working to be better and get better than that but all that effort seemed to fall short and small within Baizhi’s shadow. And you don’t even blame her, she is excellent in her work, you don’t hate her. But you’d give a questionable amount of things to have a fraction of that sweet attention Mortefi was giving her. Perhaps you were being unreasonable, irrational - and you don’t argue with it - you’re seeing green and red everywhere, and with hasty hands you collect your papers after making small adjustments, crossing out lines of text and noting down new words. And moments later you’re off to another part of the Academy, away from Mortefi and Baizhi.

What little glimpse Mortefi caught of you as you left shows disappointment and, and in the way you held yourself he saw traces of turmoil that he didn’t fully understand from that one look. He remained at his station, engrossed in his research and unaware of the burden you carried in your heart. 

It wasn’t until the time for your report came and went. And when your break time came and went. And you were nowhere in sight.

That made an odd feeling settle in his chest, a vibration of an unknown bass playing amidst the bones of his ribcage, waves of it washing up to his neck. Unable to ignore it any longer, he bid farewell to his station for the time being, one hand buried in the pocket of his lab coat, playing with the lighter. Flick..flick..

There was not one spot in this wide and vast Academy that you could hide from him, not when he wasn’t particularly looking for you and even more so when he was specifically looking for you. He could spot you in a crowd by one lone look, to him you stood out like a flower amidst grass, how could he overlook you? Following the path familiar to him, he comes into a lab room smaller in contrast than the others, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of the center room and the halls. It is clean, it is comfortable. His eyes land on your back, your nose buried in your papers, your hands hastily fiddling with the apparatus in front of you. You barely acknowledged his presence.

As if to avoid startling you, Mortefi clears his throat, but he fails and watches as you flinch at the sudden disturbance. 

“Mortefi? Uh- What are you doing here? Did you need me?” the questions tumble out from your mouth out of habit rather than genuine curiosity. You turned to face him, brows lightly knit together and eyes regarding him with a mix of feelings and inquiries. 

“I grew curious as to where you vanished off to. Has your research been so indulgent that you forgot to eat or report in? It’s been 3 hours and some odd minutes since you began on this project this morning” he began, the nail on his thumb grazing underneath the lid of his lighter within his pocket, keeping still, yet tense in his hand. His sharp gaze moves from your eyes and down to the table you were working at, noting the sharpie marks across your paper and thinner lines from your pen, and giving a small nod at them he said: “You made those adjustments I told you about, I trust”

This pulls your attention from him and at the papers, and taking his words as some sign to move freely you begin to stack pages back on top of another. “Yes. I made the necessary changes to it all. I just need to put it all into practice and, hopefully, get the results I want” you respond, clearing your parched throat. His gaze is intense, you can feel it at the back of your head like two sharp points of a stick. 

“You’ve been pushing yourself today, unnecessarily so. I sense some growing frustration from you” he says, leaving the topic open ended, expecting you to explain yourself, but where do you even begin without looking like a fool? Like a child? 

You sigh, looking around the table yet searching for nothing as you shrug your shoulders. “No, no.. I just haven't been sleeping too well lately, and it seems that all is catching up to me” you offer a empty excuse, before reaching for a blank sheet of paper, a part of you yearning to keep him here, and the other wishing him to leave you with your own emotional burdens. “If a report is what you need, I can only offer what I have from the experiment thus far, but it is not concluded, I apologize”

“Ah, yes.. sleep. One thing that is most underestimated in its importance” he mused out loud, tone flat and ignoring your latter statement for a moment too long. He was pressing deeper into the crux of the matter, not letting you shift the topic too easily. “The report for an unfinished work will not be necessary, it’s much more preferable if you take a bit longer to get end results than to hand over a half-baked product”, he sighed, pushing his golden rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Your dedication is admirable, but we can hardly expect progress if you're operating on insufficient rest and mental fatigue”.

You have to stop yourself from either chuckling or spinning around to stare at him as if he was speaking backwards. But no matter what you tried, you couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest.

“Perhaps you should have Baizhi take a look at you. She can prescribe you some soothing medication to help you sleep. But as for work.. You’re done for today” he stated plainly, looking to the side and barely missing your shocked eyes.

“What? Are you dismissing me?” you blurted out, suddenly afraid you have done something wrong or that you offended him in some capacity. He’d never send you home, especially not when you were in the midst of a project. 

“It's not a matter of dismissiveness, but rather a practical decision. If your exhaustion is hindering your ability to perform optimally, what benefit is there in insisting on your presence here?” he replied, his tone cool and detached. You blink at him owlishly, confused and, quite frankly, afraid. Previous anger, sadness and jealousy all melting away from your bones like wax over a flame. The flame being Mortefi himself. An eternal blaze that swallowed everything in its wake. You were wondering how it didn’t engulf you by now.

But in that thought alone you missed the point of it all. His flames didn’t touch you, didn’t scorn you because he willed them that way. The warmth of them kept you warm, kept you alive, kept you in this field and as his coworker, a place most others wouldn’t be able to handle. He would soften it all if he knew how, to show you he cares.

Sensing a shift in your emotions, Mortefi softened his gaze, a subtle nod of understanding replacing the usual aloofness he carried. He saw the confusion and fear in your eyes, and it pained him that he had inadvertently caused it. He knew that his words could often come across as cold and dismissive, but it was never his intention to harm or offend.

“Rest is not a punishment, but a necessary part of the work process. To push oneself to the point of exhaustion is unproductive. It only inhibits progress. Trust me when I tell you this."

Softness is undeniably present in his voice now, and your mind goes blank. Your mind was still stuck on this morning, on your project, but here he was breaking all illusions and thoughts by simply being kind. 

“I can’t say I don’t appreciate your concern, but..” you look up at his eyes only to find a scowl curling the corners of his lips, and you sigh again, looking away in embarrassment. “I can’t argue with you either, can I?”

“No, you cannot. Now, go pack up what you have. I’ll go contact Baizhi and see if she can get a check up on you before you leave”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary..” you wave your hands before you, shaking your head simultaneously to deny the offer with your entire being. “I already have some tea at home that can help me with this, no need for a check up. I insist” you try, but only get a cocked brow from Mortefi, you can already tell what he’s thinking. 

“Tea alone cannot be sufficient in treating issues related to poor sleep. Besides, it goes without saying Baizhi is well versed in medicine, and her prior check-ups of your health have been of great help to you, have they not? If tea was that simple of medicine, why have you not seen improvement?” he shot back sharply and you grew quiet, not wishing to prolong this argument further, but staying silent wouldn’t be the way to go either.

“I don’t want to see Baizhi right now” you said plainly, tone low and softened involuntarily. Your reply was met with a skeptical look, Mortefi’s head tilted in question. “And why not? Do I need to pull you to her office myself? You’re not a child, (Y/n)” he countered, not low on his arsenal of words and snappy remarks. He approached you closer, closing the distance between the two of you until he could peer into your avoidant eyes, making your heart skip a beat.

“I just.. Mortefi, I don’t know. I don’t want to see Baizhi and that’s final. Don’t make me go see her. I’ve seen enough of you two this morning” It slipped from your mouth sooner than you could pull it back, and immediately you regretted your choice of words, cursing the ability to speak. “Uh-”

Mortefi froze in his tracks, his sharp eyes widening subtly in surprise. The mention of Baizhi and himself seemed to strike a chord in him, and his stoic façade cracked just enough to betray a hint of confusion. “Hm? Have we done something to offend you to this degree of avoidance? I wasn’t aware of any discomfort inflicted upon you” he knitted his brows, looking at you for answers, his turn to feel on edge now. Were you implying he was acting out of line with Baizhi? He knew of how he behaved around others and he saw no flaws in his dealings with other colleagues, so it all left him in a more twisted maze. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lips pressing into a thin line. “Mortefi- no. You haven’t done anything to offend me, I am not offended. I just.. uh.. No, it’s all too silly. I just meant that you two just seem to be too busy with your shared workload, and I just got tired of seeing it all” It’s a badly written lie, and the truth is bleeding through the cracks in neon colors. You’re cringing at yourself, really.. The lies you were uttering, however poorly woven, were evident in the way your face creased. He could almost hear your thoughts, almost see the jealousy and insecurity that plagued you through the lies you were trying to hide behind.

He paused for a moment, considering the situation carefully, before responding. "Is it really about our workloads, or is there something else that you're not telling me?" He asked calmly, his voice low and measured.

A pregnant pause befell your ears, only being interrupted by a distant hum of a machine outside of the room, and the footsteps of other workers in the halls. He does not push you to answer swiftly, instead he waits, patient as ever with you.

“I suppose…”

“You suppose..?”

It’d be a lie to say he wasn’t taut as a bowstring, ready to hear you out, anticipating your reply. His heart was squeezing painfully in his chest.

“Ugh..I just.. Promise me you will not be angry at me, and that you will not think ill of me after I tell you?” 

“Well, this must be big if you’re asking that of me” he breathed out. Your hesitation was palpable, and the silence between them dragged on, only adding to the palpable tension. Finally, the words came, and he felt a strange mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

“I'll promise no such thing will come from me. Your words cannot change the way I feel about you” he replied, his voice tinged with a touch of irritation.

With a heavy breath you closed in on yourself, arms folded over your chest. “I was just.. watching how close you and Baizhi are this morning and for a long time now. You always spend so much time together, and despite you and I being direct coworkers and more than that outside of this Academy, I feel.. left behind”

“You are jealous?”

“If you wish to put it that bluntly - then yes. I am”

Mortefi’s coldness and stiffness seemed to melt, the answer finally clearing up the brain fog that had started to develop in his head. Things were looking clearer at long last, and with that he also felt as if he failed you. He has failed to make you feel appreciated as you deserved, and that makes his gut twist in on itself.

“I fail to see why you’d be jealous of Baizhi, even with the time we spent together. Baizhi and I are strictly work colleagues and nothing more. You are the one that gets to be in my presence, sharing stories and desserts after work hours..” Mortefi says out loud, moreso speaking to himself than you, as if trying to figure out your point of view. He wasn’t dismissing your emotions, but he failed to grasp them within his own two hands. He had been so preoccupied with his own work and responsibilities that he had failed to notice the toll it was taking on his relationship with you. His focus had been so singularly on his research, on his partnership with Baizhi, that he had unintentionally neglected the depth of the connection he had with you.

“I do have to apologize” he cuts you off before you can speak. “This.. area is not within my expertise, per se. If I had neglected you, I would’ve liked if you openly communicated this with myself” he offered, and the lighter in his hand feels like it will break apart under pressure.  “And while I can’t limit my time with Baizhi, as it is all just work, I can accommodate you as well by spending more time with or around you, if that will help you feel more.. at ease” 

There is clarity ringing its bell over your head as he speaks, already offering solutions to this problem you made out of irrational thought. Bless his heart, for all he is cold and aloof he is ten times more kind. Snappy as he is, he means well.

“Mortefi... Mortefi, I am sorry too. I did want to keep this with myself, it shouldn’t have come to this point where you try to resolve my issues by yourself”

At that he scoffed, almost chuckling but no laughter came from him. One hand perches itself on his hip and he looks at you with a look that screams of his desire to see this through. 

“Oh, but how can I ignore it now that it is in front of me? No, that will not do. Especially since it is you who we’re talking about. You go ahead now, I’ll think of something until the end of my shift. I’ll give you a call later this evening”

Afterwards your company would leave his presence and the lab, having left with more reason than conflict, and with a mind full anticipation of his words.

And just like clockwork, by the end of his shift he’d give you a call, telling you to come meet him at your favorite dessert place. 

Mortefi is special in his way of showing affection..

He is yet to learn his way with words when it comes to sweet nothings, but until then he can take care of you and help you out with work. Whatever helps you see that you, indeed, do matter much to him. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @pinksaiyans

[wanderingsoul6261]

Thanks to the Dare

gif credit goes to thepalmofyourfreezinghand

James Beaufort x Reader

Synopsis: The group starts the night of a party by playing truth or dare. Someone dares James and Y/N to kiss, knowing that the two had feelings for each other but didn't want to act on them. Later on, after the group gets bored and stop playing truth or dare, they go down the line admitting confessions. Y/N admits that she has never had an orgasm. James wants to be the one that gives her, her first. Happy ending. Fluff.

Sorry if this is poorly written. I might come back to it in a few days and touch it up. Finished it at 3:30 am in the morning and feeling a bit burnt out.

Warning: 18+ SUBJECT. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. SEXUAL ACTIVITIES ARE DESCRIBED. other mentions include alcohol. probably some swear words

The party continued to bustle around the group of seven. Cyril, Wren, Y/N, the Ellington siblings and the Beaufort twins currently sat in the living room of Cyril’s house. Wren, Alistair and Elaine sat together, with Lydia and Y/N sitting together, and Finally James and Cyril. Some of them filled the furniture while others sat on other chairs or even the floor, in the midst of the game of truth of dare. 

Y/N was slightly buzzed, a glass of wine currently in her hands. A bottle of water belonging to her sat forgotten somewhere. She had attempted to keep herself hydrated while drinking throughout the night to alleviate the effects of the hangover in the morning, but that didn’t seem likely at this moment. 

Cyril and Wren were definitely well on their way to getting drunk, while the rest of them were being conservative about what they were drinking and how much of it. 

“Okay. Y/N. Your turn.” All faces turned to her at the sound of Cyril’s voice. She raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Truth or dare.” The last one she did was a dare, in which she had been told to sensually dance in the middle of the group. She knew for a fact that Cyril and Wren had taken a very specific delight in watching her. Alistair, Lydia and Elaine could have cared less, but she definitely didn’t miss the hint of a certain look in James’ face. He watched her, a small smirk on his face, as he watched her move and sway her hips. His reaction to it had definitely caused Elaine to be salty towards her ever since. 

Her eyes turned back to Cyril, her mind made up. 

“Let’s do truth.” 

“Ok. Is it true…” Cyril trailed off, likely trying to think of a good one to ask her. He always wanted to know the juicy bits of a person’s life. It didn’t matter who you were. “You fancy someone, specifically within this group of seven?” Y/N rolled her eyes, not surprised in the slightest that this was the question that he would ask. 

“It’s true.” She responded. 

“Who?” Wren piped up, leaning forward to match the same posture that Cyril was also in. The two focused their attention on Y/N, obviously very keen on finding out who she had the hots for. 

“That’s more than one question. You can ask it if I allow it the next time through.” She teased, taking a sip of her wine. Her gaze trailed over to James, who watched her with curious eyes. The smirk from several minutes ago was still pulling at his lips. Y/N put her glass of wine down as Cyril and Wren continued to whine. 

“Come on. You can’t tease a man like that.” Cyril said. With the way he was acting, Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he suddenly got on his knees and started begging for an answer. It would be embarrassing for sure, but Y/N figured that Cyril wouldn’t have wanted to be subjected to that kind of embarrassment, and Y/N wasn’t a monster. 

“I can and I will.” Y/N smirked at them. Elaine had only rolled her eyes from where she sat next to Wren and Alistair. 

It had taken several moments to get Wren and Cyril to drop the subject and allow them to continue. James and Alistair had actually had to step in, pulling their attention away from Y/N and to Lydia’s, whose turn it was now, and as they continued the game, Y/N had wondered if she was safe from the potential question that was likely to be asked, and for a little bit, she was safe. Both Cyril and Wren had seemed to have forgotten about the question, and pestered the others when it was their turn to do so, asking for truths and forcing dares. 

However, a certain Beaufort twin herself was a little curious on who Y/N liked,albeit she had an idea, and had therefore come to be the reason that Y/N’s peace and quiet was short lived. The Beaufort twin turned to her brother, a sweet smile on her face. 

“James.” A soft hum left her brother’s throat, his attention now solely on her. He sat forward in his chair his elbows settled on his knees, awaiting the infamous question. 

“Truth or Dare?” she asked. James looked around the room, giving his answer some thought. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tilting his head back and forth. 

“Putting alot of serious thought into this, aren’t you?” Y/N teased, a smile hidden behind her wine glass as she took another drink. His eyes moved to hers, a look of amusement on his face before James finally looked back at his sister, and thinking that no harm would come of it, gave her his answer. 

“Dare.” Her sweet smile had then turned into a devilish one and for the first time, James had wondered whether or not he should fear his sister. 

“I dare you to kiss Y/N.” The jaws of Cyril, Wren, and Alistair dropped open. Of all people to have asked that dare, they did not expect it to be Lydia. Elaine looked like she could have smoke coming out of her ears. Her arms were crossed and she looked upset. Everyone knew why, which is why it would be funnier if James actually followed through with it. 

Y/N hid herself, looking everywhere around the room but at the six people that were around her. It was her goal to avoid eye contact, especially with Elaine. 

James stared at Y/N, taking in her appearance. He knew Elaine was burning eye holes into him at that moment, but he never did care for her. James knew that she was watching and waiting to see what would happen, but had also known better to know that she wouldn’t make much of a scene. Sure, she would probably make a snide comment or two, and maybe even try the whole cliche “oops sorry, I didn’t see you there” and spill her drink. It was a classic and a go to for every jealous silver spoon female out there. 

Lydia was smirking, watching and waiting, just as Elaine was, but for a different reason. Cyril, Wren, and Alistair looked back and forth between the two, their eyes wide, but also waiting. 

James' eyes had bounced between the five before he turned his attention back to Y/N. She continued to stare at anything else but them. He knew that she was only attempting to avoid the wrath of Elaine, but he had already told himself that he would prevent anything from happening should Elaine try anything. 

He stood up, casting a look towards his sister, who only widened her smirk. With only a few strides, he had crossed over to stand in front of Y/N, eventually getting down on his knees to be more her height. 

She finally looked at him then. His eyes searched her face, looking for any telltale sign that she didn’t want this. Yea, it was a dare, but it didn’t mean that he was going to do anything first without making sure that he had her consent. So far, she showed him nothing. 

“If you don’t want to do this Y/N, we don’t have to.” Elaine snorted from somewhere beside them, and James had only rolled his eyes. Y/N stifled an amused laugh, the corner of her mouth quirking up. 

“No one is saying no.” She whispered, only loud enough for the two of them to hear. “Do your best Beaufort.” James stared at her for several seconds, before surging forward and capturing her lips into a kiss. His hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her into him, feeling relieved when Y/N leaned into it. One of her hands rested on his bicep, while the other came up to tangle itself in his hair.

Catcalls and whistles could be heard coming from Wren and Cyril. Lydia and Alistair had watched as Elaine stood up and walked away, obviously not liking the display in front of her. No one cared, except Alistair, who knew that Elaine liked James, but he himself wasn’t sure if she actually liked James or had just liked him for his name and the riches that came with it. 

“Alright you two, get a room.” 

James and Y/N finally pulled apart, breathing heavily as they looked at each other for several minutes before turning around to face the others. James remained seated next to her and the group, minus Elaine, had continued their game of Truth or Dare. 

However, eventually the group had grown tired of playing truth or dare and had resorted to making confessions that either no one or most people didn’t know about them. 

Y/N listened to most of the confessions that were being said. Cyril was held back in his earlier years of school, prior to coming to Maxton and meeting them. Lydia went a deeper route, confessing something about their parents and the family business. James had nodded along slightly with that, as if he understood where she was coming from. Of course he did. He lived the same life, and Y/N knew all about it.

Her eyes trailed down to their thighs, brushing up against each other ever so slightly. She listened to James' confession.

"I've never loved anyone I've been with. It's just been for pleasure. Especially Elaine." He looked at Alistair and apologized. "No offense." Alistair raised his hands in understand, having taken no offense from it. He knew how his sister could be. Alistair experienced it more than the others. "Although, there is one that I have my sights on." He admitted. Wren and Alistair went on to do their own confessions, Cyril jumping in to admit some more.

But Y/N had turned her attention to James. She looked up at him, her eyes tracing his jawline, the scar on his cheek, the way his hair fall in a soft manner around his face. She watched as his eyes moved to look at her out of the corner of his eyes, and Y/N watched as a soft smile pulled at his lips.

She ran the image of the kiss back through her head, glad that she was sitting, as she grew weak in the legs.

"Hey, Y/N." She finally turned her attention to the others, who all were now staring at her, James also included.

"It's your turn to confess." Wren stated. "You haven't made a confession yet.

"Goodness. You guys are acting like we are in church, and I just committed a sin." Some of them stifled a laugh while the other cracked a smile.

"Who knows. Maybe you did." Cyril added, wriggling his eyebrows. Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to think of something to confess.

Then she paused, her eyes trailing across the group. Many would see this as surprise, as she has sexually interacted with ex boyfriends or one-night stands. But they were never good enough.

"I've never had an orgasm." Jaws dropped open as she looked around the group, thankful that Elaine had walked away earlier in the night.

"What?" Cyril asked.

"I've never had an-"

"It was a rhetorical question, no need to answer it."

James looked down at her in question.

"Haven't you had-"

"I have. But none of the ones I did it with were ever good enough to get me to that point." She explained. "The sex was really poor." Lydia stifled a laugh, in which Y/N smiled in response. "Your sister may know more than she lets on." James glanced between the two, a twinkle appearing in his eye, a smirk upon his lips.

He then turned his attention back to the rest of the group, as they lost their minds at Y/N's confession. She found it amusing in fact, as both Cyril and Wren both refused to believe that her confession was the truth.

It was known that she slept with a few, mostly old boyfriends, but those boyfriends were boys, and didn't know exactly how to actually treat a lady.

--- SMUT BEYOND THIS POINT. MINORS, PLEASE DON'T INTERACT

After a little bit more time had passed, Y/N had stood up addressing that she needed to use the bathroom really quick. James watched her go, downed the rest of his drink, and claimed he was going for a refill. The others watched the two leave, suspecting that neither of them would be back anytime soon.

Upon walking out of the bathroom, Y/N had been pushed against the wall, looking up to see James. The stance he had over her made her weak in the knees.

"James?"

He leaned forward, keeping eye contact with her. James maintained eye contact with her for several moments, before he leaned forward some more, until his lips brushed gently against her eye. She shivered, and she could feel the smirk form on his lips.

"You want to know what an orgasm feels like?" He asked, his breath fanning hotly against the side of her face. And just like that, arousal filled her entire body. A low whine escaped her lips and James pulled back to look her in her face.

"Words, sweetheart. I don't know what you want unless you tell me."

"Are You making a promise, Beaufort?" His blue eyes grew darker with arousal.

"It's not a promise, love. It's a guarantee." After a few more seconds of the two staring at each other, they pulled each other in for a kiss. It was sloppy, and definitely spoke true to the moment and their desires. James looped his arms around her thighs, hoisting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He made his way towards a guest bedroom, one that he dubbed as his whenever he stayed over.

James made easy work of opening the door and closing it behind him. He wasn't wasting any time. He wanted to spend as much time as he could, showing Y/N how she should be treated.

Y/N fell backward onto the bed with a soft 'oof', staring up at James as he stared down at her. She grew self-conscious, her cheeks growing red as she grew flustered.

"Absolutely gorgeous." He crawled onto the bed, pressing kisses up her neck and along her jaw. When he finally reached her lips, he pressed his hands against her body, slipping underneath her shirt and trailing softly across the expanse of her stomach. She gasped at the touch and James reveled in, moving his hands and helping her take the shirt off.

He sat back, taking in her appearance. She stared at him with hooded eyes, drunk with arousal. Y/N was an angel. A bright light in the shadows of darkness that he had hidden himself inside. She was a positive and happy thing in the life that his father had forced on him.

James brought his hands up to his shirt, unbuttoning it until he was able to slip it off and tossed it towards the floor, joining her own shirt. He watched as her eyes immediately moved down to his chest and stomach, taking in the appearance. She raised a hand, reaching out for him.

Taking her hand, she pulled him back on top of her, pulling him back into a kiss. His hands moved up her waist, one wrapping around her back and unclasping her bra. It joined their shirts on the floor. His hands grabbed her boobs, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

She gasped into his mouth, arching her back as he grinded against her.

"If we are going too fast, we can slow down."

"What if I like it fast?" A low groan rumbled in his chest. He felt her smirk against his mouth, and grinded into her again, instantly turning the smirk into a whine.

Her hands went down and started messing with the buttons to his pants. When it proved a bit difficult, and she couldn't get it undone, she stopped.

"Help, please." James huffed out a soft chuckle, before sitting upright and doing it for her, shucking his pants down his legs as Y/N took the time to take hers off as well. He leaned back down to kiss her again. The kiss was sloppy and heated. James grabbed her thighs, looping them around his waist as he started to grind against her again. Y/N's head fell back against the bed, a low whine falling from her throat as James watched her, taking in her reactions and drowning in him. He wanted to absolutely ravish her.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, enjoying the noises that fell from her throat as he pressed lingering and bruising kisses to her neck and shoulder.

"James." She gasped out. He let out a hum.

"Yes, sweetheart." He spoke between kisses.

"I-fuck" she let out a noise mixed between a gasp and whine when he grinded particularly hard against her. "Need you." He pressed another kiss to her lips before he moved down her body, taking in the sigh she released. James kissed down her body, maintaining eye contact with her as he did so. His lips pressed softly against her stomach, trailing down to her thighs. James let his fingers run over her body, trailing softly and causing her to shiver beneath him, goosebumps forming on her skin.

"I got you sweetheart." He murmured softly against her thigh. His hands looped gently into her panties, pulling them down her legs and tossing them onto the floor as well. James looked up at her, making sure that she was okay to continue, and if the look of pure bliss and arousal on her face wasn't enough to tell him to continue, he wasn't sure what would.

Y/N pulled him back up to her as he slipped two fingers inside of her. He started slowly, thrusting his fingers in and out, letting her adjust to the sensation. She had pulled him into another kiss, this time slower than the first ones. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders.

One of his hands had one of her legs folded and pushed towards her chest. His thumb rubbed her clit, drinking in the gasps that she let out as they kissed. He leaned into the kiss, putting a bit more force into it as he quickened the pace with his fingers.

When his chest starting to burn, telling him that he needed to breathe, he pulled away and looked down at where his fingers disappeared inside of her. Her own eyes followed his, soft whines and whimpers falling from her lips.

James dipped his fingers down to where his fingers disappeared inside of her pussy, replacing his thumb with his lips. A gasped escaped her chest, and her back arched, a whine getting stuck in her throat and her breathing picked up. James was drowning in her, flicking his tongue against her clit, watching as she slowly became unraveled beneath him.

"That's it sweetheart. Such a good girl." He murmured quietly. After a few more seconds, he pulled his fingers out of her. James scooted up, listening as she whined at the loss. He knew she was close to an orgasm and that he had denied it to her.

"You still want to do this?" he asked. Y/N nodded, and James used his mouth to rip open a condom, sliding it on. He pressed the tip to her pussy, giving her a few seconds before he started to slowly push inside of her. She let out a gasp and he stopped, allowing her to adjust before he continued again, until he was finally all the way inside.

James proceeded to give her some more time to adjust, before he started to thrust in and out. Immediately, he had gotten her to the point where she was before he withdrew his fingers. Soft whines and whimpers escaped her throat and mixed with the grunts and groan that he let fall from between his lips. Her arms wrapped back around his shoulders, and he had looped her legs around his waist.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, groaning at the feeling of her around his cock. James never wanted to leave this moment, especially after he had been thinking about this moment for so long, and it had turned out better than he had previously expected.

"Fuck, Y/N." He captured one of her boobs in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the nipple while his other hand fondled the other. His free hand come down and vigorously rubbed against her clit.

She let out a sharp gasp, her head falling back against the bed, her back arching, and nails digging into his back. He let out a grunt, pulling his face away from her boob to watch as his cock disappeared in and out of her. Her breathing had begun to quicken, her whimpers and whines had turned into soft gasps.

James turned his attention to her.

"That's it sweetheart. You're almost there aren't you? You feel it building up." He spoke softly to her, watching as she nodded, and quickened the pace of his thrusts. He watched her every reaction. The way her eyes clenched shut, her thighs clamped around him. He felt her nails dig into his back, and even if it might hurt in the morning, he didn't care.

And then suddenly she let out a sharp gasp, her eye lids fluttered and then her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She let out high pitched whine, before it was as if she forgot how to breathe. Her body shook and as her pussy clenched around his cock, it threw him over the edge as well. Pleasure filled their bodies as they reached orgasm, their noises filled the air before they finally quieted down, and soft sighs and heavy breathing filled the room.

James threw the used condom into the bathroom trash, and came out with a warm wet washcloth, with the intention to clean Y/N, and after doing so, he crawled into the bed with her.

She immediately scooted closer to him, nestled close to his chest. James wrapped his arms around her, pressing a gently kiss to the crown of her heads. And just like that, the two of them laid in silence, taking in the post coital bliss.

Y/N drew lazy patterns against his chest, when she finally spoke.

"I don't want this to be a onetime thing." James took in what she said, a smile forming on his face as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. His hand rubbed lazily up and down her back, taking in the feeling of her being pressed up against him.

After several moments, he lifted Y/N's face so that she was staring at him. His eyes searched for any signs of a lie in her own, and when he saw none, he pulled her in for a soft and gentle kiss.

"Me too. It was always going to be you, Y/N. I want you, and no one else."

----

@sillyfreakfanparty @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @benbarnesprettygurl

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Yandere diaries. || Toby x reader. A new (possible) series I got the idea to do of the creeps doing diaries showing them gradually becoming yandere.

3k words. CW: Yandere, adult content (mentions of arousal and references to masturbation), descriptions of violence and gore, unhealthy relationships, severe abuse, delusions, Toby slipping into insanity and also being an unhonest/unreliable narrator with how awful he’s being.

4/26/22 -

I met someone new today! We bumped into each other at a park I like to go to on Earth. They were so kind to me. We ended up getting ice cream together and exchanging numbers. I hope I can see them again soon.

5/11/22 -

I’ve been able to see them a couple more times. We’ve been messaging regularly, and have also called a couple of times. I’ve never felt so connected to someone so quickly before. We have a lot in common, and they don’t even mind any of my tics or odd quirks. We have a plan to meet up this weekend and go to the movies together, I’m really looking forward to it. I hope we continue to be friends with each other for a long time!

5/14/22 -

I just got home. We had such a fun time at the movies! We saw one of the more recent horror films together. They got scared partway through and clung onto me to feel better, and it made me feel really happy and protective over them. I wouldn’t mind seeing more horror movies with them in the future if it means that they’d do that again. We haven’t known each other very long, but I feel so connected and interested in them, I feel sparks every time they touch me. Is this what falling in love feels like?

6/21/22 -

I haven’t been able to see them for a few weeks because of our schedule differences. I feel like I’ve been excessively sad because of that. I just feel like my life is so much dimmer without them. I wanna go to the park with them again, eat ice cream, and curl up under a tree with them. I wish I could be with them every day.

7/29/22 -

We haven’t known each other for a very long time, but I’m certain they’re the person I’m meant to be with for the rest of my life. They make me the happiest I’ve ever felt, they understand me like nobody has ever understood me before, I just feel so carefree and excited in their presence. I think they might feel the same way about me too. I need to try my best to build up some courage and ask them to be my partner before someone else can.

8/11/22 -

I asked them on a date and they said yes!! I’ve never felt more excited than I am right now!! We’re going on our first date in a few days. I need to make sure I have a nice outfit to wear because I want to take them somewhere nice to eat, and then we’re gonna go for a walk together and stargaze. My life truly feels so complete and wonderful right now, I feel like I’m finally on a path to keep getting better with them in my life!

11/24/22 -

I haven’t been dating them very long, but I convinced Slender to allow me to invite them to Thanksgiving dinner. Normally we have to date our partners for a year, but I just know our relationship is going to work out, so I don’t feel the need to wait that long. They had so much fun meeting everyone, and they were happy the whole time. I felt a bit jealous that they didn’t pay as much attention to me, but that’s okay because there were so many new people they had to meet. I’m sure next time I invite them over they won’t pay anyone else any attention. I’m looking forward to having them over here more often!

12/14/22 -

I got into an argument with Jeff today. I had them over to visit me, and I stepped away for a minute to get us some snacks and Jeff so rudely decided to try and steal their attention from me. It isn’t fair! He was trying to make them laugh and hang out with him instead of me!! I got really angry and I started yelling at him, and he yelled back at me, claiming he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He’s not allowed to just walk up to them and act like they’re buddy-buddy. They’re my partner, and they’re here for me. Nobody else has the right to their attention but me.

12/25/22 -

I got to celebrate my first Christmas with them today. We spent a little bit of time downstairs with the others, but then I wanted to bring them upstairs to my room so we could be together alone. I gave them a bracelet with our names on it so that everyone would know they belonged to someone, and they seemed to like it. However, I got a bit upset at them. They said they had to go home so they could celebrate with their friends and family too, but aren’t I good enough? Aren’t I their family now? It doesn’t make any sense to me why they couldn’t just stay at the mansion, but I let them go. I’ll have a talk with them about this later.

1/24/23 -

We had another argument again. They have this friend that keeps overstepping his boundaries and I don’t appreciate it. He’s been hogging their attention recently and hanging out with them more and it’s seriously fucking pissing me off. They wouldn’t stop talking to him so I had to lie to them about him to finally get them to back off from him a bit. I wouldn’t normally want to do that, but it’s for their own good. Nobody should be hogging them away from me that much. Their friends are lucky I even allow them to talk with my dove at all. I think that’s what I’ll start calling them, now that I think about it. My sweet, soaring Dove.

2/17/23 -

I ended up getting into a fight with one of Dove’s friends. I was trying to make sure I could spend Valentine’s with Dove, but this friend wanted to be able to see them that day since he’s going on a trip soon or some other stupid excuse. It pissed me off. IM their boyfriend, that day is for US. I confronted him to get him to back off but he had the nerve to stand his ground. I had to beat the shit out of him to get him to understand his place. It’s been three days, and apparently, he hasn’t contacted them since. Good. One less pest I have to worry about. Dove was a little suspicious when I came home with torn-up knuckles that day, but I just told them it happened during training and they believed me. They even took the time and care to bandage me up. They really are so special to me. Nobody else can have them.

3/18/23 -

I’ve never really thought much about blood before. When it’s on myself or my victims, I’ve never really cared about it, I’ve actually usually thought it was gross, but it was different today. Dove got this gash when we were out on a hike from tripping and slicing their arm on a sharp rock. Normally the blood wouldn’t have bothered me, but it was just so pretty. The red spreading across their skin was just so alluring. Of course, I got them cleaned off and patched up as soon as I could, but my heart is racing just remembering it. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope they get cut again soon. I have to confirm if this feeling inside me is real or just a one-off.

3/28/23 -

It wasn’t a one-off. We were cooking, and they were using one of our sharper knives. My curiosity got the better of me, and I “accidentally” bumped into them from behind. They ended up cutting themself, and their blood was just as alluring today, flowing freely out of their finger. I ended up putting their finger in my mouth to suck the blood off, and I’ve never tasted something so intoxicating before. They were a bit confused, but I just played it off and they let it go. Holy shit. I feel like I have to taste it again. I have to. The red on their skin, the metallic lingering taste in my mouth. It’s so addicting. It honestly made me a bit excited, I had to take a moment to myself so they wouldn’t notice.

4/16/23 -

I bit them. We were making out, and I just felt myself getting so worked up. I pinned them down on my mattress, and I started kissing down Dove’s neck. I couldn’t help it, my heart was beating so fast and I felt myself getting dizzy, and I bit them really hard. Their skin was so soft in my mouth, and blood started oozing out, running against my teeth and my tongue, and my lips, it was so warm and exciting, it felt like I was getting drunk. Dove didn’t like it though. They screamed and cried and begged me to stop, and I didn’t want to, but I did. I bandaged them up and apologized and feigned innocence. They said they wanted to go home early, so I took them to not get on their bad side anymore. I was so worked up though. I had to take care of myself when I got home, I was just so turned on. I have to do it again somehow. They won’t like it, but I have to. Nothing has ever felt so pleasing before.

4/29/23 -

I tried to bite them again, and they realized it wasn’t an accident this time. They yelled at me and hit me to get me off of them, and I hit them back much harder. They looked so broken and upset while they cried, but their tears and screams got me just as turned on as their blood did. The bruise that formed on their cheek was so beautiful. I held them close and apologized a whole bunch because I don’t want them to hate me. I cried a lot and I meant it. I promised I wouldn’t do it again, which I guess I didn’t mean. However, they can’t just disobey me like that. I need to try and be on my best behavior so they can be more relaxed around me. I can’t have them fighting back every time I want to do something to them.

5/09/23 -

I think my Dove needs to be caged. They’ve gotten so used to flying free that they need to be grounded and brought back to reality. I keep trying to limit their interactions with others because they keep poisoning my Dove against me, and Dove tried to fight me today. We got in a big yelling match, but I was able to calm myself down in the nick of time so that I didn’t make things worse. I got them to calm down, and we’re gonna have some space between us for a few weeks. I think I’m going to take this opportunity to my advantage.

5/30/23 -

While we haven’t been spending time together, I’ve been working hard. I found an old house in the Underworld for cheap, and I’ve been rebuilding it and fixing it up. I altered it to be able to hold Dove in without their escape, and I’m so excited about it. I’ve got a bedroom I’m setting up for them, and a nice kitchen because they’ve always liked cooking with me. I know Dove is going to love it so much when I bring them here in a few weeks. It’s going to be the best thing for us. Dove is too innocent about the world around them, and I have to be able to protect them. Nobody else can do a better job than I can.

6/08/23 -

[Parts of the entry have been torn. Words are smudged or crossed out and it is not completely legible, but some of it remains visible. *Full translation will be added at the end for those that use translators/text to speech.]

I CAN'T FU—— BELI— TH—!! DOVE WAS TRY— TO MOVE!! THEY W— TRYING TO LE—E ME!! THAT STU— BASTARD [Redacted] TRIED TO TA— THEM F—M ME! WHEN ALL IVE ———— IS PROTECT TH— AND THIS IS —— REPAY ME?!? I'VE NEVER BE— SO ANGRY!!!

Dove is FUCKING LU—Y I had the home re—y! If not, I wo—d’ve just thrown th— in the fucki— basement!!! [Redacted] got wh— they deser—. I be— the- so bad you —— —king recognize —. I’ll du— the bo— som—ere else.

7/06/23 -

Dove hasn’t been making things any easier. Since they last tried to move away things have been such a fucking pain in the ass. They were so scared when I locked them in here. I wanted it to be a warm welcome, where I’d bring them here voluntarily, but they had to go and ruin it because of [Redacted] sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. They tried to run away a few days ago, and I went to write about it but I was so fucking pissed I ripped the page to shreds. I had to break their ankles so that they wouldn’t be able to run again, least not for a long while. I’ve also been keeping them tied up more, but it’s easier now that they can’t walk. The bruises on their legs are just so beautiful. I think I might keep them like this, even though they cry every day from the pain and the circumstances, but their tears are beautiful as well. I have to get more painkillers soon for them.

10/18/23 -

It’s been a while since I’ve updated. Things have been going smoother lately. Every time Dove’s ankles start to heal, I’ve been breaking them again. I just can’t trust them because they tried to escape again. I’ve been enjoying myself a lot more. I can bite them and cut them and hit them whenever I want to. I can taste their blood and chew their skin and bruise their beautiful body however I like. Of course, sometimes it makes me sad when Dove gets so upset about it. I don’t know what to do. It gets me so turned on and riled up like nothing ever has before, but I also want them to love me. They haven’t been fighting back anymore, so I think they’re getting used to it. We’ll see.

12/25/23 -

It’s our second Christmas together. I got Dove a bunch of things they asked for since they’ve been so good. They seem to have given up hope of resisting me, and it’s made me so happy. They even made me a cake for Christmas, and it was so delicious. I’m so happy we can be together again like this, just a happy couple with no interruptions. It’s truly the best gift I could have received this year.

2/16/24 -

I’ve been letting Dove’s ankles and legs fully heal. They truly haven’t been trying anything, and they’ve been so devoted to being a good partner for me, I don’t think I need to break them anymore to teach them a lesson. They can nearly stand on their own now, and they seem so happy. They said it’s because they can hug me while standing, and that made me so happy to hear. We’ve started cooking together again. We’re becoming a happy family, and I’m so glad I was right that Dove is the one for me. They even let me bite them as much as I wanted today, and they let me scratch them too, they didn’t even cry out today. I could tell they were trying really hard, so it made me very happy.

4/25/24 -

Things have still been going well. Their legs have healed up perfectly. It’s been five months since I last broke them, and I think they’re so grateful for it. They don’t disobey me, they do everything I ask, they’re so affectionate and loving with me. It makes me so happy to know that they’re truly settling into life with me. I don’t think they mind how much I hurt them anymore. They don’t complain as much, but they still cry those same beautiful tears for me. I think they’re starting to enjoy it.

5/26/24 -

I have to go on an extended trip for a week soon because of work and I’m nervous. They said they’ll wait happily for me, but I’m still so, so nervous. However, earlier this month I was gone for a few days and they didn’t go anywhere. Dove actually welcomed me back happily. I think we’ll be okay. I think this is it, the true test. I know they’ll pass, but still, I can’t quiet the anxiety in my heart. I’ll have to spend as much time as possible with them and get out all my excitement before I have to leave. I’m going to miss the feeling of their skin beneath my fingers and teeth.

6/11/24 -

[This page has also been smeared and torn in anger. *Another fully corrected version will be at the bottom.]

I — FUCKING BE—VE THEY DI- TH— AG—!!! THEY R— AW—!! THE- STOL- SO MU— —IT FRO- ME!! THEY TO— THE MO—Y I HA- HIDDEN!!!! THE- TOOK FO— AN- CLO—— AN- LEFT!! I- SO FUCK—- ANGRY!!! I'LL K— THEM!!! I JUS- MIGH- FUCK— KIL- THEM!!! AT TH- VER- LEA— THEY— NEVE- WAL- AGAIN! WHEN I ———— NEVER ES— AGAIN! LOCKS, CA—S, CHA—S!! WHAT—— IT TAKES!!!!!!

Dove, you’d better pray to —y FUCKING DIETY in EXIST—— THAT I DON- FIN- —U!!! When I d-, you’re goin- to su——— much for do— th— to me.

--

6/08/23 -

I CANT FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!! DOVE WAS TRYING TO MOVE!! THEY WERE TRYING TO LEAVE ME!! THAT STUPID BASTARD [Redacted] TRIED TO TAKE THEM FROM ME! WHEN ALL IVE FUCKING DONE HERE IS PROTECT THEM AND THIS IS HOW THEY REPAY ME?!? I'VE NEVER BEEN SO ANGRY!!!

Dove is FUCKING LUCKY I had the home ready! If not, I would’ve just thrown them in the fucking basement!!! [Redacted] got what they deserved. I beat them so bad you can't even fucking recognize them. I’ll dump the body somewhere else.

6/11/24 -

I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE THEY DID THIS AGAIN!!! THEY RAN AWAY!! THEY STOLE SO MUCH SHIT FROM ME!! THEY TOOK THE MONEY I HAD HIDDEN!!!! THEY TOOK FOOD AND CLOTHES AND LEFT!! IM SO FUCKING ANGRY!!! I'LL KILL THEM!!! I JUST MIGHT FUCKING KILL THEM!!! AT THE VERY LEAST THEY'LL NEVER WALK AGAIN! WHEN I CATCH UP THEY WILL NEVER ESCAPE AGAIN! LOCKS, CAGES, CHAINS!! WHATEVER IT TAKES!!!!!!

Dove, you’d better pray to every FUCKING DIETY in EXISTENCE THAT I DON'T FIND YOU!!! When I do, you’re going to suffer so much for doing this to me.

[hedgehog-moss]

Some news that made me smile today

1. There was a funny article in Le Monde about French people's existential questions as to what to do with their trash in these times of garbage collectors' strikes (in various cities not just Paris). Some started storing their trash on their balcony so there wouldn't be so much in the streets, then started feeling embarrassed because now all your neighbours know you're a class traitor. True enemies of the reform divide their trash into several bags to make the piles in the streets more imposing. "They're asking their friends what their strategy is, talking about their trash bags like they're ballots." The article quotes people as saying: "My gesture of support for the revolution: putting my trash bags outside so they've got something to burn." "I'm thinking of putting my trash in the boot of my car and driving up to Paris to add it there."

The strike has been going on long enough that more complex reflections are arising: "why are we piling the trash on the pavement, bothering pedestrians, rather than putting it in the middle of the road to bother cars?" Also some people are driving their trash around to go put it in the streets of the strike-breaking districts where trash is being removed by private companies. The commitment. The conclusion of the article is that people who don't close their trash bags properly "cannot be said to be doing this out of any political strategising" and should stop doing that.

2. The garbage collectors' strike in Paris was due to end tomorrow (I think) and I was wondering if they would be able to extend it, and I just learnt that garbage collectors in the private sector are taking up the torch, they'll be on strike starting tonight. They handle different arrondissements of Paris—the 1st, 3rd, 4th, 10th and 18th. No big deal, just the Louvre, the Palais Royal, Rue de Rivoli, Montmartre.

3. I'm late for this one but some football fans attending the France-Netherlands match at the Stade de France in Paris chanted "Macron démission" at the 49min3s mark... Apparently they had organised it because Macron was supposed to be present for the match, but he wussed out cancelled at the last minute.

4. Our ministers are cancelling things too—they've been told to "postpone all non-imperative official visits" within the country because Macron's finally running out of cops I guess and if you send them to protect ministers you won't have enough to intimidate Parisians. The Minister of Labour is quoted as saying "our security forces are exhausted." So it seems we've grounded our government for the time being.

[wordsarelife]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: the night of the concert is here. will theo be able to fix everything between him and pixie?

warnings: bit angst, idiots in love, a bit cheesy

note: not really happy with the outcome of this chapter, but whatever..

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you tried not to think about it too much, but despite everything, saturday did not feel normal. it felt like you were missing something.

after you had ignored his messages, your dad had called you several times. you didn't want to speak to him, but you had to admit that it felt good being wanted by him for once.

you didn't know when he last tried to reach out to you.

you spent your day ignoring the time, staring blindly into your book and reading the same page over and over again. you were tempted, but you didn't open the curtain.

your mind had run in circles after what your mother had said last night.

you had worried that everything she said had just been a temporary state, but today she had gotten up before you to make you breakfast. she had still looked a bit sick, but colour was slowly returning to her face and today the had a meeting with her doctor.

she was trying to find a therapist too. not only for her but also for the both of you. she wanted to repair your relationship and she was slowly becoming her normal self again.

she had been right, if you could forgive her, you would maybe eventually be able to forgive theo too.

the pain and fault that had rested on your shoulder had slowly evaporated into thin air, lifting everything that had made your and theo's relationship hard in the first place.

the doorbell rang at around six and you wondered who it was. your mother was still at the doctor's and your friends were already all at the concert hall. or at least that was what you had thought.

"what are you doing here?" you asked as your eyes fell upon enzo and april. "shouldn't you be there already? it's an hour drive"

"that's all enzo's doing" april rolled her eyes jokingly "you would think for someone that has claimed yours and theo's relationship to be none of his business, he would act like it wasn't, but here we are"

enzo ignored his girlfriend's words completely. "you have to forgive him, y/n" he almost begged "you should've seen how distraught he looked at rehearsals today. he's hating himself for what he did"

"enzo, i really-"

"i'd do anything, y/n" he interrupted "he's not himself without you"

"you should've seen him" april pointed to enzo "i let him drive my car this once and he turns it around in the middle of the street and drives back here. we were also already fourty minutes into the drive!"

you had almost laughed, if enzo hadn't been nearly crying in front of you.

"you're everything to him" enzo continued unfazed. "he has loved you for years! all of us saw it right before our very eyes, even your brother! theo loved you from afar for so long, don't you think you can love him back?"

all colour suddenly disappeared from april's face as realization dawned on her. "repeat that!" she said.

"what?" enzo turned his head at her confused "don't you think you can love him back?" he repeated, but april shook her head.

"i mean what you said before that" enzo and you looked both confused now and she rolled her eyes "theo loved you from afar!"

"what?" you asked, but it looked like enzo had realized what she meant.

"yeah!” he threw a fist into the air and turned around himself, loudly screaming.

"am i being filmed?" you looked around for invisible cameras.

"y/n" april laughed as enzo continued dancing behind her. "you're daisy"

"i'm what?" you asked with a dry laugh. "are you alright?"

"daisy buchanan" enzo said loudly "you're daisy buchanan and theo is jay gatsby"

"no, that's-"

april interrupted you, before you could tell them how crazy all of this sounded. "he loved her from afar" she quoted in a deeper voice, obviously mimicking theo.

as if that wasn't enough enzo chimed in, spotting a high-pitched voice, undoubtly quoting you "then he could've stayed on his fucking side of the lake, instead he threw these gigantic parties, just hoping for one single person to show up. is that what it is to you? having an unhealthy obsession with something that could lead to your death and calling it love?"

"he loved her because she wasn't easy. he loved her because being with her meant not knowing what's to come, because being with her meant to never grow bored" april continued.

"did we read the same book? because i read a book in which a foolish man spends his entire time obsessing over a woman who doesn't love him, atleast not as much as he loves her and later he dies, because he wants to save her and she doesn't even bat an eye, before she goes back to her husband" enzo rattled that down like he had learned text for a whole musical.

april smiled. “that’s why he defended daisy as if his life depended on it. because she is you!”

they both looked at you expectingly.

"i don't know what is weirder about this" you shook your head "that you both can effortlessly quote something theo and i said weeks ago or that you decided enzo should play me. that was the worst girl voice i ever heard, april's mimicking of theo was at least believable"

"that's what you took from this?" april sighed.

"she said we effortlessly quoted them" enzo pointed out "that means she remembers" he tapped a finger to his head.

"wait, you're right" april laughed "oh, you're so smitten!"

"we should really go now" enzo reminded with a look to his phone. "well, are you coming or not?" he asked.

"i don't know, guys"

"as is said before” she pressed “theo was obviously talking about you" april reminded "you're daisy! what's there not to know?!"

enzo seemingly had enough, as he massaged the space between his eyebrows. "why are you and theo always making it so unnecessarily hard? do you love him?"

you smiled "i do"

"do you want to see him?"

"yes"

"then what are you waiting for?!" he took your arm, pulled you out of the house and closed the door. "come on!" then he pushed you and april to the car.

"first he has time to come and get you and now we have to run like someone is chasing us" april muttered under her breath and you giggled.

enzo was really reminding you of a family father right now.

he started to drive just as your arse had hit the seat. you were able to close the door just in time, before it could make contact with the stone wall.

"enzo!" april scolded "that's still my car!"

"hold on tight, woman!" he screamed "we're not going to miss this concert!"

and he was right, because he turned the car as if he was testing at how much speed he could take the turn.

to your surprise, you made it in time, with all your body parts still attached.

"that was—"

"awful!" april interrupted as she opened the door and got out "you're never driving this car again!"

"sorry, sweetheart" enzo was close behind her and you followed suit, unsure if you could come inside without them.

inside the venue, enzo kissed april goodbye before he headed behind the stage. “let’s find a good place to watch them, yeah?” april smiled and you nodded.

you walked through the crowd, not too close to the stage, but good enough.

“hey” a voice said and both you and april turned around. “you’re y/n?” the guy was wearing a headset and clipboard. he looked like he belonged to the venue.

“yeah?” you asked surprised. were you not allowed to be here?

“mr l/n told me to come and get you” the guy explained “he has a vip place on the right side of the stage. he said you both were with him?”

you looked around the people in front of you until your eyes caught the space he was talking about. there was your father, staring right at the stage.

april followed your line of sight. “we don’t have to” she said to you, before she turned her head to the unfamiliar man “we would rather stay here”

“are you sure?” he asked and looked to you expectingly.

“no” you said quickly and were surprised by yourself “we’re coming”

you followed the man through the crowd of people.

“what are you doing?” april muttered, clutching your arm.

“i can’t always run away from difficult feelings”

“okay” she nodded “just give me a sign and i’ll knock him out”

“thank you, april” you smiled “you’re the greatest friend i ever had”

she smiled and you could see how much your compliment flattered her. “i’m glad that you are coming back to normal” she giggled, as she wrapped an arm around your body.

“hey april” your father greeted when you stood in front of him. april said a hesitant hello, before she nudged your arm and told you she would wait for you.

once april had left you alone, both of you didn’t know how to act.

“h-hey” your dad said, before he opted for an awkward side-hug.

“hi dad”

“how have you been?” he pushed a hand through his hair. you could see him struggling, he didn’t know what to say, just how you didn’t know.

you smiled and shrugged. he nodded.

“can we stop doing this?” you finally asked “this feels so forced. we haven’t talked in a year and that’s shit, but we don’t have to ignore it happened, okay?”

“i’m sorry” your dad shook his head “i thought all of this would be easier, but you’re not little anymore and-“

“-i’m not as forgiving as i used to be” you interrupted “what you did and what you said was actual bullshit, dad. you messed everything up and i think you’re responsible that i have such a hard time trusting people”

“peanut” he muttered.

“why didn’t you call?” you asked as tears fell over your cheeks “why didn’t you want to be my dad anymore?”

he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “what happened wasn’t your fault”

“i know”

“yeah, but i made you feel like it was” he admitted “i said horrible things and i brought you back home like i didn’t want to see you. i was ashamed, i thought you didn’t want to see me after what i had said to you that night”

“i needed my parents. there’s no excuse for you not atleast trying to be there” you shook your head “you could’ve tried” you added, crying.

your father didn’t say anything. he nodded, before he softly touched your shoulder. “i would love to try” he said gently “if you still want me to”

“yeah” you nodded “but i don’t think i can just forgive. it’s gonna need a lot more than a promise from you”

“i know” a tear slipped over his cheek. “i want to make it alright. theo made me realize what i did to you and i’m so ashamed, peanut” he gulped “i just want to be your dad again”

“i want you to be that” you softly hugged him and it felt more normal than before. “but we have to fix a lot for that to happen”

“i know and i will try to make it work again”

“hey, sorry” april leaned around the body of your dad “they are starting now”

you smiled at your dad, before you loosened the hug and all three of you walked further up to the barrier.

“hey guys!” theo said into the microphone “we’re cursed legacy. this is cheap wine!”

you watched him closely, how he gripped the microphone. his voice flew through the speakers, making you shiver. the veins on his necks were more obvious when he came to the chorus, pouring his heart right into your ears.

now you’re dancing along,

to his newest song,

laughing like you did when you were mine,

and it hits me, cause i can’t fix it,

on the bottom of your lip,

reminder how it is,

but there’s still a drop of my cheap wine.

the song ended and you opened your eyes. april was jumping up and down, loudly screaming.

your father smiled impressed. “they’re really good”

“i know” you nodded proudly.

after cheap wine, cursed legacy played eight packs of cigarettes, you get me so high, only angel and neon nights.

before theo could announce the next song, dave fraser entered the stage.

you and april exchanged a confused look, when you noticed theo and dave eagerly discussing something. theo shook his head, more than once, before he sighed.

“and now” dave had grabbed the mic that had been standing next to enzo unused. “make some noise for pixie dream girl”

you clenched your teeth and noticed the look on theo’s face. he looked about as happy as you did.

enzo started playing the chords, blaise and mattheo starting right after him, before finally draco joined.

theo‘s eyes wandered over the crowd, before they finally landed on you.

no, you thought, as you saw the conflict in his eyes. then he did what you had feared. he didn’t start singing.

the band exchanged confused looks, before they repeated the same progression of chords. the crowd hadn’t noticed that theo missed his cue, but they would if he would continue to not move and just stare at you.

“is something wrong?” your father muttered beside you.

you didn’t take your eyes off of theo, but shook your head.

“i’m sorry” theo finally moved and started speaking. the music behind him died down. “i can’t do this” he sent his bandmates a regretful look, before he jumped down from the stage and started making his way through the crowd in the direction of the door.

you started walking at the same time. but not to him.

“y/n?” april called confused.

you walked behind the stage. maybe theo really wanted to throw everything away because he had been an idiot and wrote that dumb song, but you wouldn’t let him.

“hey” you said into the spare microphone, when you entered the stage. the crowd, who had been turned in the other direction as they looked after theo, turned around.

and so did theo.

you could almost hear the sigh of relief that escaped mattheo‘s lips. the rest of the band seemed to be relieved to see you too.

“ehh, i’m pixie” you smiled and you were as confident as if pixie really was your name. “and this is pixie dream girl”

you nodded to enzo, who promptly started playing. after a few seconds of confusion, the rest of the band joined in.

i’m an average girl, with tangled up hair,

my laughter's like nails on a chalkboard, it's more than he can bear.

i flutter around, like a clumsy old crow,

leaving chaos behind me, wherever i go

if you had to sing that stupid song, you would at least change the lyrics in a way that was fun.

he‘s pretty average too,

a thorn in my side, believe me it’s true,

he‘s up all night, screaming his songs,

i‘ll stay awake, and sing along!

you could see the smile enter theo‘s face.

the rest of the band seemed pretty impressed by your spontaneous ability to change the lyrics. you could also hear enzo add a few improvised riffs.

you raised your arm, waving for him to come and join you. he walked his way back through the crowd, as you sang the chorus.

but oh, as she dances and sings to her favorite song,

in nothing but a long shirt, dancing all night long,

she’s enchanting, in her rhythmic twirl,

oh in her eyes, she‘s a pixie dream girl.

he entered the stage and his laughter was reaching your ears through the loudness of the crowd and the instruments. you laughed with him.

he smiled to his bandmates, shaking each of their hands as if to apologize, before he walked up behind his own microphone stand, a few feet away from you.

you nodded for him to start the next line. it seemed that he had caught on to your lyric changes.

she's a pixie dream girl, and i get the hype,

she sings in the shower, it‘s just my type.

she talks too loud, and she never shuts up,

but i’m pretty sure i won‘t ever get enough.

you turned your head and smiled at him. he looked so beautiful as he was illuminated by the stage lights. his hair seemed to glow and you felt the sudden need to touch it and push it out of his eyes.

you started singing the pre-chorus.

he's a daring challenge, a relentless test,

but i need him around, never giving me rest.

theo added the last two lines, before the chorus began again.

she'll chatter and flirt, driving me mad,

i'm losing control, it's really too bad.

it was the first time that you guys sang together in a long time. your voices harmonized perfectly and you could see enzo and matt smile at each other when they noticed.

theo smiled his typical smile, the one you grew to despise, but could not love less right now.

you got rid of the pullover you were wearing (deciding that it wasn't the right piece of clothing for a rock concert) and were left in just a top. the stage lights were hot.

you pulled your microphone from it's stand, walking across the stage. draco winked at you when you put the pullover down next to his keyboard stand. you smiled at him, as you started laughing.

you walked back to the microphone stand and continued singing the bridge.

but oh, she turns behind the window glass,

It’s not the first time, but maybe it’s the last

I just hope she’ll never stop her twirl,

oh, in my eyes, she's my pixie dream girl.

before the instrumental part of the music started, you turned to theo, who was already looking at you. he took a step in your direction. you did the same.

"i'm sorry" he said "about everything, i should never have-"

you weren't even angry anymore. you had already forgiven him everything.

"no" you shook your head "i'm sorry for pushing you away at a time where we both needed each other"

"we both are idiots, huh?" he muttered over the music and you nodded laughing.

the band started playing the same set of chords again, dragging out the instrumental part.

"i love you" theo finally said. his words made your heart flutter. and up here on this warm stage you couldn't have been happier.

"i love you" you replied, the same sincerity in your voice.

theo's smile grew impossibly bigger, before he softly took your face in his hands and connected your lips. the crowd roared. you both turned to theo's microphone as you sang the chorus together.

but oh, as she dances and sings to her favorite song,

in nothing but a long shirt, dancing all night long,

she's enchanting, in her rhythmic twirl,

oh, in my eyes, she's my pixie dream girl.

the last few chords of the song rang out the crowd started cheering. you smiled down on all the people who were before you, before your eyes turned to the barrier, where april and your dad were still standing.

april was holding two thumbs up, while your dad looked a bit confused.

theo outstretched his hand and drew you close to his body. you hugged him tightly and he pressed a kiss on your head.

the crowd was still cheering and you could hear nearing footsteps. a second later, mattheo threw his arms around the both of you. it didn't take long for enzo, blaise and draco to join your group hug.

you laughed loudly as they began jumping around on the stage, loudly celebrating their very first official concert.

you were sure you could not have been happier than in that moment.

taglist: @7s3ven @madi-potter @shereadsandcries @getosbeloved @mischieftom @wolfstar-jpg @t00thfairy20 @chcrrysblog @aestramjackson @elina3011 @kr1nqu @hopeless-y @mitskiswift99 @fallingblackveils @ahead-fullofdreams @helendeath @schaebickel @chubbychasermattheotruther @punkprincess03 @subparslytherin @girlbooklover555 @sakanelli-afc @cobrakaisb @ellen3101 @simp-for-fantasy

additonal note:

this is cursed legacy's debut album. i was supposed to upload this in chapter four, but actually forgot..

leo is the one in the middle. (mattheo mentions it in chapter four)

[letteredlettered]

Slow burn mutual pining

Slow burn pining fics are my favorite. Usually slow burn mutual pining (let's invent a new acronym: SBMP). The problem with SBMP is that it is so difficult to find a climax that satisfies me that I almost always end up not enjoying the fic after all. Like, it delivers but it doesn't satisfy.

Here are all the climaxes I hate, and keep in mind that this is about what I personally enjoy, not what I think is like, good writing or How You Should Do It or the paragon of excellence or anything. I am not telling anyone what they should be writing, and I am also not telling anyone what they should like reading. I simply like what I like and I hate what I dislike, so now you get to know because this is my blog and I do what I want, Thor.

Too short. These are the ones where A is like "I love you! I've loved you for years!" And then B is like "I've loved you for years!" And then they go have very loving sex or something. Listen. There has to be processing time; there needs to be that crying cat meme where the cat needs a minute; there needs to be wonder and disbelief and shock. There needs to be a numbness. And when B does finally 'fess up with their reciprocal angst or whatever it cannot just be "oh, ditto!"

Climax interruptus. Some authors know that the climax needs to be drawn out (to achieve my fic-reading satisfaction, which is obviously every writer's goal!) but can't figure out how to get there, so A is like "I love you! I've loved you for years!" and then the whole Bennett family falls into the room from where they've been listening at the door and there's a lot of dealing with Mrs. Bennett and Mary and Kitty or whoever, all while A is angsting about their confession and whether B loves them back, and B is waiting on tenterhooks just to tell them the feeling is reciprocated. Watch closely, folks, the worst perpetrators of this will do it several times. A says, "I love you!" Then is interrupted. Then finally gets a chance and is like, "I've loved you for years!" Then is interrupted. Then B finally gets their chance and is like "I have something to tell you too!" Then is interrupted. The worst, guys; this is the worst. (It happens with lots of big climaxes where the climax consists of confessions or supplying information or clearing up misunderstandings or Finding Something Out--mysteries do it All. The. Time.)

Moot climax. Subsection of the above that refers to an interruption being an entirely new plot. Basically, you get some kind of partial confession or revelation, but then something happens, but the something is so catastrophic or dramatic that the mains can’t possibly talk through it; they need to resolve this entirely new conflict first. And once that is resolved, the original conflict might even be a moot point, such that they no longer need to have feelings confessions because their feelings were revealed in an alternate way by the alternate plot. I had written this post a year ago and now I have returned and posted because I read one of these that made me so mad.

Trailing climax. Also subsection of climax interruptus. Trailing climax happens when there are several other confessions/revelations that are in fact related to the love confession/revelations. Ie, “I love you,” AND “I’m the masked bandit you had sex with,” AND “I’m your long lost childhood friend.” Sometimes it’s also just a series of things that really demand resolution, ie, “I love you,” AND “I’m afraid of sex but want to have it,” AND “you’re a bird and I’m a whale, so how can this work.” The thing about having multiple conflicts or required resolutions is that you can have several climaxes, but they still need to ascend to a jagged peak. What I often see in the “trailing climax” problem is that one resolution is reached and tension immediately plummets. The reader feels forced to continue reading to find out the resolutions to the other conflicts, but there is no longer the ramping tension up to a final conclusion; it’s more like we ended one story and now have to start a whole other one.

False trailing climax. This is a trailing climax in which the author portrays the other resolutions or confessions as very important, but they’re not, actually. We got the big, cathartic confession scene we needed and yet somehow the chapter still ends on a cliffhanger that makes you feel things suddenly aren’t resolved. This is often about sex. The author is portraying sex as the big climax yet to come when the actual climax was feelings.

Trailing climax narcolepsy. How many times have you read a climax where most things were kind of resolved but there are some loose ends and instead of dealing with them (or having sex) the characters suddenly decide they need to sleep? I always feel the author got tired of writing or fears long scenes and just needed to put a jump cut in because they otherwise didn’t know how to end the scene.

The climax that cried wolf. Okay here is what you get when someone takes my words about "disbelief" and "shock" and "numbness" too far. One of the biggest motivations for SBMP is either A or B or both going on with their constant, "oh, B could never love me!" and "oh, A doesn't even notice me; I'm so worthless . . ." Listen. Listen to me. I love that shit. I eat that shit with a spoon. I am so into it, you don't even know. But when A takes B by the shoulders and is like, "I love you! I've loved you for years!" it is A BRIDGE TOO FAR for B to just go ". . . they didn't mean it . . . they couldn't . . . how could they love me . . . it's not true . . ." After that, you've lost me, and some fics do that like eight times before getting to the part where B believes it. By then no matter how hot and intense and drawn-out you make the actual climax, it has lost all impact because it's happened 7 other times already (and I have already noped out of the fic unless I'm in that train wreck fugue state where I had to see how it ended).

Paint by numbers climax. Paint by numbers climaxes are satisfyingly long and, also satisfyingly, address every single issue and misunderstanding this couple ever had, and then after all of that--only after that--we paint the final numbers: kissing, then undressing, then sex. Let me count the ways I'm so desperately uninterested in this. First of all, the sex is not going to be interesting to me if there is no tension left in the thing. What do you think that I am in this mess for? If it was porn, I'd read a pwp, and if it was loving fluff, I certainly would not be reading SBPM!

But even worse than the boring sex is that, since the sex--and often even kissing--can only occur after all the confessions, it means the confessions are strangely . . . cerebral? Not physical. Sexless. Don't get me wrong. Please don't get me wrong. I love cerebral! I love not physical! I love sexless! Some of my very favorite fics that I have written, and also I will point out the one that is astronomically the most popular, is basically G rated! Fics don't have to have sex in them to be interested and I will beat that drum until my hands fall off!

But. But.

If your SBMP is about sexual tension; if it is about A constantly dreaming of nothing but having B's dick in them and constantly fapping away to thoughts of it or whatever, why would you exclude sex from the climax and only add it in the denoument? I ask you. And if sex wasn't part of the tension; if the sexual aspects were actually not what the pining was about, why do you have sex at all? Why not end with a kiss?

*

There you have it, decades' worth of frustration all in one post, folks.