#also thanks that was kinda cathartic

[seventh-district]

again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.

[purplecladmerchant]

You know that post that's like a screen of someone "why hurt character you can kiss em!" And a funny answer like "no lol hurt character fun!"

...it got an additional that goes "no, I want the character to be hurt like I was hurt so they are comforted and it's like comforting me♡"

And....

I mean. That's a good coping mechanism. But I heavily disagree. That's not what I'm doing here.

Im doing violence. Yeah because I'm hurt. But I don't want uwu ♡♡good things to happen uwu♡ ... I want to take out all this anger yknow?

Im full of it. I'm full of hatred, violence, malice, and anger. That, as a semi-well-adjusted person, I won't lash out at any place. I carve a kind of violence that doesn't exist. I'm creating it on a safe place. (It also applies to fetiches and extreme ones)

I dont want "Oh you're me and I gonna be hugged and comfort after this very real thing that hurt me uwu"

Not all fiction exist as an idealized version of reality.

And not understanding that, is what bring us to the first problem in that post. That people think we want what happens in fiction to happen in real life. And I don't want that.

I want fiction cathartic, awulf, beautiful, hard, soft different every time, and over everything else: fictional.

[piningpercussionist]

*another letter!* It's me, again, I... well... not trying to be creepy, or whatever. but I had a dream about you last night, and it felt so real and it kind of shook me. ever since then it's been like I'm suddenly hyper aware of just how lonely I am . and it's kind of getting me down. for as far back as I can remember, the only thing I've ever wanted is a sincere, genuine romantic relationship, and, even though I'm fairly young, around your age. the fact that I haven't been able to even get my foot in the door on that sort of thing really bothers me. figured I'd talk, or... I guess... write? to you about it, I don't know if it's particularly impolite to dump your personal issues via pseudo-anonymous letters. so I'll keep this my rambling to a minimum. thanks for putting up with me, by the way. you're genuinely sweet. safe travels -Crush Guy

((ooc: man. sorry to answer this in a nebulous future state again. coordinating things, am I right? /j. I would have had to do so regardless though, given what I have in store for Kim here... no spoilers! :) But we'll see what happens.))

Kim flops back down on her bed, letting out a long, low groan. That trip had exhausted her, thoroughly; she wasn't sure she wanted to think about or do anything for the next forever, at least, but... She cracks open an eye and looks over at her pillows, noticing another letter waiting for her. Sitting up with a sigh, she rubs her eyes before taking it up and opening it, trying to will herself to feel more alive.

Reading over the letter, Kim frowns, feeling something like a pull in her chest. She rubs at her sternum and brings her knees up to wrap arms around her legs, looking back over it a couple times thoughtfully.

I can certainly understand that... she thought to herself, resting a cheek to one knee. I want for a lot of things, I guess. And do without them. But I can definitely understand that kind of longing.

She eventually uncurls and shifts about, moving to lean back against her propped up pillows, now placed to cover the gaps in her bed frame. Despite herself, she finds her thoughts taking her back- as they often do- to high school. She feels the painful twinge again, and she's thankful not to have to hide her emotions in the safety of her room- she'd locked the door, after all.

She could still remember what it had felt like, back then; to be loved. Or to think that you were. She'd still been herself- Kim Pine: bitchy, aloof, and sarcastic, with a corrosive tongue that loved to lash out- but with Scott she'd felt so warm, and she knew deep down that she'd let herself thaw a little, in that time. She'd been less cold in ways Lauren had called her on immediately, much to her displeasure, but she hadn't been able to deny it, then. She still couldn't now, really; she was just better at masking it. She liked to think she was, at least.

She missed feelings like that- the warmth; the carefree nature in which they'd spend their time together. The way he would look at her stunned and flush after she'd tease him over some stupid comment he'd made, or how he'd turn away whenever Kim would catch him staring at her during class...

She hates the way it still feels warm now, thinking back. Warmth paired with the uncomfortable hole in her chest- a paradoxically heavy weight to an emptiness, expanding outward, trying to numb itself and failing miserably- only spreading the fire. Though there are none, Kim finds herself rubbing at her eyes, concerned that she might find tears there.

You need to stop doing this, she thinks to herself, as ineffectively as always. The thought has no weight if she doesn't put effort into making it actionable; she knows, because she's thought it so many times before. It was high school, Kim. It clearly meant nothing to him. Let it be nothing for you, too. Please? It'd be easier.

She spends a couple minutes trying to pull herself together, picking at loose threads along the edge of her skirt. The feeling continues to linger, however, so she simply sucks it up and starts in on her reply.

Don't worry about it, guy; dreams take us a lot of places we don't intend. It's not really creepy- honestly maybe expected, with us talking like this. Hope it was a pleasant one. And it's alright, I think. I get where you're coming from, too. I mean, I've dated around, but it's hard to find genuine connection with people. The kind I crave, at least. You'll need to kill me before I admit anything beyond that, though, heh. No problem, and also thanks, I suppose. Though I have my doubts on how true of a statement that is.

She's not entirely certain if she's satisfied with her answer by the time she's done, but she shrugs and sends it anyway, too tired to give it much more thought. Maybe a nap will fix me... she wonders to herself, eventually moving to lay curled up on her side facing the wall.

She would try for a while, but sleep would elude her; instead, a reel of memories plays back in her mind, haunting her with a distant, hopeful version of herself. How naive...

[countcvnt]

Experiment

Chapter Four: Stamina

[Poly!TF 141 x Fem!Reader]

[Ch. Three] [Ch. Five]

Summary: After a couple days of rest, you realize just how much stamina you have. You train with boys to get some energy out. Warnings: Descriptions of broken bones, mentions of blood, slight suggestive language Word Count: 3.3k A/N: This chapter isn't as sad. Next chapter will have light smut! I got the idea of the chapter link thing from @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries so thanks Ikea!! Hope it's alright tag you just for that lmao. Also I just learned how to do the side by side gifs yay!!

It’s been a couple days since your nap… Since your realization. Simon has only been more distant. You’re sitting in the training area, alone, when Soap and Gaz walk in.

"We got ye this!” Soap extends his hand. “It’s a radio!” You look up at him with confusion. “I ken it isnae a phone…”

“Hey,” You grab it, “it’s better than nothing. Now I can bother all of you all the time!”

“Actin’ more and more like yerself!” Soap hits you on the back. It catches you off guard how hard he hit you. You are fine, you aren’t going to bruise, but you can’t help but wonder if he’d always nudged or hit you so hard. “How come yer here by yerself?”

You shrug. “Simon was supposed to meet me here. Do some training. Guess he skipped out on me.”

Soap lights up. “I can help ye!” He seems excited.

“We both can, actually.” Gaz interjects.

You nod, lighting up. “Okay! I’d like that. I’ll be sure to go easy on the both of you.” You smile at them as you stand up. You already stretched earlier, ten minutes before Simon was supposed to come in. So, instead of doing that, you walk to the middle of the room and stand there, eagerly awaiting Soap and Gaz.

“Now,” Soap puts a hand up, “don’ think ye have to go easy on us.”

Gaz makes a face, “You haven’t seen her strength yet, have you?”

You laugh. “I’ll hold back a little bit…” You reassure him. “But, I don’t want either of you to hold back. I promise, I can take it. Trust me.”

You take a fighting stance, ready for them to come at you. Gaz and Soap look at each other. Gaz gives a gentle nod to Soap, one you assume you were not supposed to catch, and Soap takes off towards you. You plant your feet and prepare yourself for Soap hitting you. His rough hands grab you, and the both of you grapple for a moment. Your arms get free and instinctively wrap around Soap’s ribcage, and get behind him at a speed he was unsure was possible.

You easily bring him up and over you, suplexing him into the mat below you. You stand up straight and look down at Soap. He groans, the air has been knocked out of him. You smile at him and he motions for Gaz to move.

“Yer suppose’ to ger ‘er now.”

Gaz looks at you funny. “I don’t think I want to be thrown like that.”

“It’s kinda hot, actually,” Soap smiles at you once he seems to be breathing properly again. Your face heats up. You look at Soap with wide eyes. He sits up and rubs the back of his neck. “What did they give ye?”

You, still hung up on the ‘hot’ thing, shrug. “I dunno.” Your mind is racing. You need to do something other than rest or eat. You want to throw Soap around some more, but you can’t stop thinking about his comment.

“Look,” Gaz motions towards you, looking at Soap. “She’s in shock. Ya told her that was hot, and now she’s in shock.”

“Same old bonnie,” Soap stands up and smiles at you.

“Uh, that was very cathartic…” You shift your weight, “can we continue this… 'training’?”

“Cathartic? Throwing him around eased your mind?” Gaz looks at you with wide eyes.

You nod at him. “Yeah, I think it’d also be fun if you both ran at me!” You smile wide.

“Yer outnumbered,” Soap places a hand on your shoulder, “that isn’ fair.”

You cross your arms. “Johnny,” You narrow your eyes at him. “They wanted to test my reflexes before you got me out of there. They improved a lot more than my strength, I just wanna test something out…”

The both of them look at each other. “If ya say so.” Gaz responds.

You excitedly nod back and get in your fighting stance once more. “Remember,” You point at them, “do not go easy on me! Please.” You smile at them. You want to know what you’re capable of.

Gaz and Soap don’t say a word. Instead, Gaz runs at you. It's your turn to grapple with him. While you’re fighting with Gaz, you can feel Soap running at you. You tense and throw Gaz to the floor and immediately direct your attention onto Soap. His arms wrap around your waist and you're sent sailing over him. He effortlessly suplexes you into the mat and you groan.

Soap and Gaz are both standing over you, looking down at you and smiling. “Was that payback?” You ask, catching your breath.

“We’re even now.” Soap puts his hand out towards you.

You don’t hesitate to grab it. Soap easily pulls you up and Gaz steadies you as you stand. As you’re thanking them, the doors of the training room opens. The three of you turn towards the door and you perk up.

“You’re finally here!” Your eyes hit Simon’s.

“What do you mean? ‘Finally’?” He looks at the clock on the wall. “I said 12:30… it’s now 12:29.”

“Oh, I thought you said 1200…” You feel embarrassed now.

“You’ve been here since then, waiting?”

“She’s been throwin’ us around.” Gaz rubs the back of his neck.

Simon approaches you and looks down at you, “Good, you’ve been warming up.”

Your stomach flips at how he says that. His tone… He has not come to just mess around, you already know that much. He walks past you and towards the end of the mat. Soap, Gaz, and you stare at him. He motions for Soap and Gaz to move, and they do. You blink at him. You quickly take your ass to the other end of the mat and wait for Simon’s next move.

Simon does not say a word. Instead, he rushes you. He easily grabs you, turns you around, and is holding you close to him, his arms keeping you from moving. You let you an awkward laugh, “What the fuck?” Simon doesn’t say a word. Instead he shoves you forward. You do not miss a step. You turn back to him and rush towards him.

“Suplex him!” Gaz shouts from the sidelines. Him and Soap seem just as curious as you about your strength.

You can’t help but wonder if you could… You want to try it. Simon is a big boy, and you want to test your new found strength. The both of you circle each other and your fingers are wiggling, you’re looking for an opening. You end up moving faster than Simon can register. You wind up behind him and grab his waist.

Simon does not let you get further than that. His elbow rears back, and you realize you are at just the right angle to get hit just a tad too late. Simon’s elbow slams into your face, harder than he had expected it to, and a loud pop echoes through the training room. You let go of him immediately. You fall to the floor, warmth covering your face. You let out a low, primal growl ready to fucking obliterate Simon. You want to maul him. Something in you is about to snap. Until suddenly his words replay in your head. ‘I trust you.’

Simon would never intentionally hurt you. And when you look up at Simon, his eyes tell you he truly did not mean to hit you so hard. Your eyes cut towards Soap and Gaz, who are watching you with anticipation.

You inhale sharply through your mouth and snap your nose back into place, stopping the bleeding pretty quickly. You sit up and Ghost puts his hand towards you. “Come on,” He sounds like he’s trying to keep himself calm. “You need to go to the med bay.”

Your bloody hand reaches for him and you grab it. You, in the spur of the moment, decide now would be a good time to take advantage of the situation and as you pull yourself up, kick your leg out. It slams into Simon’s shin and he’s doubling over. You slam your body into his and slide across the mat. You straddle Simon and you're holding him down. You’re breathing heavily and watching him.

The look in his eyes tells you he had not expected that. “Don’t let your guard down.” You heave out, a dull pain pulsating through your nose.

Simon sits there a moment. You move to get up and look at Soap and Gaz, who are watching with wide eyes. As you stand, a hand grabs you and you’re flipped. Your back slams into the floor and the wind is knocked out of you. You gasp. Your eyes shoot open and Simon is crouching above you, his large, rough hand wrapped around your throat. You watch him, unblinking. Not breathing.

Simon lowers himself to your level. His eyes stay on yours. You swallow hard and inhale shakily as his lips hover over your ear. “Don’t let your guard down.” He whispers in your ear. He stands up and walks off from you. “Get her to the med bay.”

You lie on the floor. The door opens and closes as Simon leaves. You, still laying down, look over at Soap and Gaz. You try to process everything that just happened. They rush over to you and Gaz crouches beside you. You look at him, eyes still wide, brain still processing. Neither of them seem to have expected that.

“Gaz,” Soap looks off towards the door, “I’m gonna check on Ghost…”

“Okay, I’ll get her checked out.” Gaz nods at Soap. He places a hand on your shoulder and you sit up. Gaz helps you stand and you look at all the blood on the ground and your hands. You know it’s covering your face. “Come on, love, let’s go.”

You're sitting in an exam room, mostly cleaned up. You look at the monitor across the room from you, your eyes stuck on it. The IV pole is beside it. “Are they gonna hook me up?” You ask Gaz, your eyes not leaving the monitor.

“No, love,” Gaz grips your shoulder. “You just broke your nose. They have no need to hook you up to that.”

The doctor walks in as he finishes his sentence. She's a woman. You feel yourself relaxing a little bit. Her lab coat isn't doing you any favors though. All medical coats must be the same, all you can think about is the facility. You exhale slowly and grab Gaz’s hand. He gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I'm Doctor Johnson, I'll be checking on you, okay?” You can't tell if she used to know you or not. You nod at her. “What happened?”

“Well, I assume it all started when I was taken–”

“No, not that far back,” Gaz smiles at you.

“Oh, my bad.” You look at the doctor. “I was training with Lt. Ghost and we got a little too rough. Thankfully, I don't get hurt like normal people.” You say, kicking your feet off of the side of the exam bed.

Her face contorts. “Okay–” She drags out the word. “Is that from your…” She pauses. She knows. You nod. “Okay, Price should have brought you to me sooner.” She looks at Gaz and back at you. “Is it okay if he's in here?”

“Of course! I actually prefer it… him staying.”

Dr. Johnson nods. “That's fine, just wanna make sure.” She smiles at you softly. “Can I check your nose?” When you say yes, she approaches you. Her gloved hands gently touch the bridge of your nose. You don't flinch at her touches. She gently pushes it and it pops. Again, you don't flinch. “You can't feel that?”

“I mean, I know you're touching me. But it doesn't hurt, no.” You shake your head.

She hums. She checks inside and then looks at you. “Your nose, you broke it before.” She states it as fact. She knows you have.

“Well, actually, yes. At the facility, they broke it. They hit me with the butt of an assault rifle.”

Gaz’s drop on your hand tightens. You can see his whole body tense, his Adam's apple bobs. You say it so nonchalantly. He doesn't like it.

The doctor swallows hard. She seems stunned. She quickly gathers her thoughts and inhales through her nose. “May I ask what tests they ran on you?”

“Yes you may,” you reply sweetly. “But I can't tell you what they were. They never told me. I just know I'm quite literally built to take those types of blows and then some.”

“We could help you figure it out.” She suggests it. She isn't pushing you.

“No.” It's the first thing that comes from your mouth. “I'm already stressed enough sitting right here in front of you. I will not be hooked up to monitors, or poked with needles.” You stand your ground.

“It's okay,” Gaz calms you down. “We don't have to do that. Not right now.”

The doctor purses her lips, looking at Gaz. “It'd be good to know those things. It could help you.” She sounds so calming, genuinely trying to keep you from freaking out.

You do want to know what's up with you. But you don't want to put yourself in distress just to figure it out. You sigh. “Not right now.” You shake your head. “I need time to think about it.”

She nods at you. “That's fine. Your nose is completely fine. You're free to leave, if you'd like.”

You have never gotten up so fast in your life. You drag Gaz out of the room with you. He doesn't stumble once, but he does wince, causing you to realize how tightly you're holding onto him. You mumble an apology and let him go once you're out of the exam room. You stop in the hall and take everything in. The lights are bright and everything smells so… sterile. It's almost haunting.

“We can get out of here.”

“That sounds good.” The both of you begin to leave. “Do you wanna train again?” You ask him, cocking your head.

Gaz makes a gutteral noise, laughing. “After all that, you still wanna train?”

“Yes, it was nice. It was… relieving my stress. I still have a bunch of pent up energy.”

“We'll find you something to take that out on.” He leads you out of the med bay.

“After sleeping the last couple of nights, I've never felt better I don't think. I must have stamina for days. I feel like I could go at it forever.”

“Oh?” Gaz looks over his shoulder at you. “Forever? And what are you going at exactly?” His brow cocks.

Your face heats up. “Not like– That's not– In a sense–” You stumble on your words. “Fuck.” You want to bury your head in your hands.

“Oh, fuck?” Gaz smirks at you. “Really? I didn't know you were like that.” He nudges you with his elbow.

“Kyle, I'm going to die. I think I'm literally going to pass away.” You look at him with a pout.

“Sorry, love, you aren't getting out that easy. I think I have an idea on how to get your energy out though. We could always try the gym, or the track? There's a new recruit who beat the best time and I think– I know you can beat him.” He turns and grabs your shoulders. “I think it'd be really funny if you beat him.”

You smirk at him. “I'm an enhanced individual now. And you want me to beat some poor rookie’s best time on the track? You want me to destroy him?”

“Yes. Gotta keep the new guys in check. Plus, we can check that stamina of yours.”

You smile, “Okay!” You put a finger up, “But, I'm not doing it to pumble some guy's record. I'm doing it because I'm testing myself.”

“Hey, that's fine with me.” Gaz grabs your hand again. “Come on!”

You let out a laugh as Gaz drags you outside and towards the track. When you get outside there are several people stretching, getting ready to run. Most of them are men.

“Hey,” you look at Gaz, “do you think they'll be emotionally distraught if I outrun them?”

You sure hope so.

“Only one to find out.”

Gaz walks over to the track with you. You approach the group and they all look at you. Your grip tightens on Gaz’s hand and you smile awkwardly at them. Most of the people are new recruits. You are positive they don't know about your… predicament. You introduce yourself as Ace.

“Just came to run a little bit, burn some energy!” You release Gaz’s hand.

They don't seem to think much about it. You walk towards the track and ready yourself. The sergeant at the sidelines readies the group and you examine them. You're trying to pick out the fastest one. The one you want to beat. Or one Gaz wants you to beat.

“Three–”

Everyone is getting ready to run. You look at Gaz.

“Two–”

He motions towards a tall, slender man. You lock on.

“One!”

You take off. All of you take off. You know you're supposed to pace yourself when running. You watch everyone doing that, except one person. The one Gaz pointed out to you. You can feel Gaz watching you. You have an urge to show off for him. The urge to impress him is suddenly very strong. You don't fight it.

You take off. Your legs push you forward and quickly run by the man. You give him a smile as you run by him. He doesn't falter. He picks up his speed. So you do the same.

Before you know it you are speeding around the track. The man left in the dust. You reach the end of the mile and smile at Gaz. He's the only one you see. You don't notice everyone stopped and staring. The sergeant clicks his timer.

“Ace,” the sergeant waves you over. “You just beat the fastest time by three minutes…”

“What. The. Fuck!?” A scream echoes from behind you. “How did you do that?”

“Peter, calm down.”

“What the fuck,” He repeats himself, quieter this time. “That’s not possible… I did track for years! And you come up here out of nowhere–” His hands are in his hair. His eye on the ground.

Oh, he’s mad. You watch him closely. Gaz steps in between you and Peter. You feel butterflies in your stomach as he does that. Peter looks distraught.

“How did you do that?”

You aren't sure how much you can tell him. So you shrug.

“You don't know?” His eyes widened. “Did you do track at all? Have you ever even run in your life? You aren't even out of breath!”

“I don't know–”

“What does that mean?! You don't know? How does someone not know that?”

He's so fragile. He storms off. You look at Gaz and he turns his head towards you.

“Did I do okay?” You can't help but ask.

“Okay?” He asks you. “Love, that was amazing! You set a new record!”

“I wasn't even doing the best I could–” Your face is hot.

Gaz pulls you into a hug. He's proud of you. You don't immediately hug back, causing Gaz to pull away. You pull him back to you, keeping from crushing him. The last time you hugged one of them —intentionally— was when you hugged Simon two days ago. You hadn't realized how much you needed physical contact since then.

Gaz hugs back, his hand rubbing your back. It seems to be just as therapeutic for him.

“Okay,” the sergeant speaks up, “how did you do that?”

Gaz pulls away from you, and you look at the sergeant. You shrug. “I'm just that good, I guess.”

The sergeant narrows his eyes. He doesn't get a chance to say anything about it before your new radio goes off.

“Ace,” Price comes over the radio. “meet me at the barracks immediately, over.”

You groan. “Copy, over.”

He knows something. You grab Gaz's hand and begin back towards base. Gaz doesn't argue with you taking him with you. He does seem confused. But he holds your hand with no complaints, following you to the barracks.

Taglist:

@moonyinthestars @dory-98 @otto-s-alskling @aeilani @klutzy-kay24 @sher-ni @infpt-zylith @eustassh @kaoyamamegami @zoexme @reap3erslov3 @fruitymoonbeams-blog @cosmic-rich @bvxygriimes @waiting-so-long @mill7531

(tags are being weird again, i'm sorry if it didn't let me tag you... also think that's everyone? If i forgot you, just let me know I'll be sure to add you next chapter! I'm sorry im very forgetful and my list fills.. like it's missing someone)

[wildemaven]

strangers : poolside | dave york

pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 6622 content warnings: 18+ blog; ANGST, soft!Dave, established relationship, miscommunication (like a lot), mentions of alcohol and food, workaholic Dave, morning breath, Dave’s stupid phone, talks of marital woes, slight exhibitionism, breast/nipple/clit play, a random handsome stranger, jealous Dave, talk of having or wanting children, a kiss of fluff, implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know. notes: ahh! I’m so nervous for this chapter!! But so excited for it also. I’m so glad I took my time with it so it could be exactly what it needed to be— which is kinda of a roller coaster of emotions. While the story is completely fictional, this has felt very cathartic to me because I dealt with a lot of similar thoughts/feelings as the reader. Anywho! Biggest thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for literally holding my hand through this and helping me work through it. 💕 strangers masterlist | previous | next | inspo board | playlist

The soft glow of the television bathes the hotel room in a soft ambient flicker. Faint colors and scene changes adjust the room’s atmosphere. Actors silently exchanging words back and forth, expressions all the more dramatic with the muted volume. The movie you’ve been looking forward to seeing, long forgotten, playing out in silence across the screen. 

As expected, the bed is better than anything you have ever slept in. Its plush mattress, divine and soft. Similar to what you assume it might be like to doze off among the clouds. It braces your bodies with ease through shifting positions as the evening extends into the early hours of the next day. 

The intricate structure of lace and mesh material felt exquisite on your skin. Molding over your body like it was made for you and only you. The cups of the teasing bra cradling the weight of your breast, pushed up on display, enticing enough to bring a man to his knees— the plan at least. Taking your time, admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror once everything was in place. Your eyes roaming over your body, letting your hands follow suit. Imaging all the ways Dave would map over your skin in the same manner. The prospect for what was to come was thrilling. Desire blooming in your veins. Arousal warm and already pooling in the crotch of your panties. It was evident, your body filled with pent up lust, ready to be satiated by your husband. 

You delicately dotted drops of perfume to your skin— base of your throat, behind your ears, inner wrists. The warmth  from your pulse points amplifying the lush fig and sandalwood notes, blending with your natural pheromones instantaneously. Before rejoining Dave, you slipped a hotel robe over your body, concealing the lacey number with wild anticipation.  

His hands, gentle where they met your body with a soft caressing motion. Not rushed or seeking more than they were ready for. Blazing heat emitted from him, scorching your skin with a fieriness you so desperately craved. They stilled. Lingered. 

Dave. Your voice cautious, velvety sweet, calling out to him. 

The sounds that fell from his lips were beyond anything you could have prepared for. A booming roar reverberated through him. Filling the room. Consuming you. As quickly as the rousing fuse had been lit, it had just as quickly fizzled out mid burn. 

Dave’s snoring was like a shock to the system. The warm buzz of arousal dissolved into a cold emptiness as you lay in bed alongside Dave’s sleeping form. No amount of lace or lack thereof, seemed to be enough to seduce the sluggish man, already nodding off when you had come slinking out from the bathroom. Propped up on pillows, his eyelids growing heavy with each forced blink as stared blankly at the television. His dinner plate picked over and discarded onto the nightstand. 

This scenario you knew all too well— and regularly. The build up, always so hopeful. The prospect of Dave having his way with you, pure exhilaration. Your body so desperate, in need of a release that didn’t hail from a hurried moment alone with a tiny vibrating wand before crawling into bed with Dave’s sleeping form.

Your brain refused to shut off as you lay staring up at the ceiling, willing away tears. You finally settled on the only thing that made sense at this early hour.  He no longer desired you like he once did. No amount of time or vacations away could restore that connection. Then there was also that outcome that you dreaded the idea of entertaining— maybe it just wasn’t you he desired. 

*

The whole evening had been on a constant loop. Replaying and taking precedence over your usual fictional fantasies that unfolded upon entering a heavy slumber. The hotel suite balcony offered a reprieve from the room, quietly sipping your coffee alone. 

It was mid morning when you decided to crawl out of bed, in desperate need of something to numb the dullness that settled behind your eyes. Sleep did little to ease the tornado of thoughts that swept through your mind as the sun rose over the coast of California. Your brain had a funny way of tormenting you with fabricated information. On high alert the minute it sensed uncertainty, in search of answers to unasked questions.

As the coastal fog burned off, you were able to properly take in the view. A colony of gulls flew by, their collaborative squawking was every bit as annoying as it was captivating. 

Fellow early risers strolled the sidewalks below, coffees and large water bottles in tow, all absorbed in their little private worlds. Couples hand in hand, in search of  the perfect ocean view to start their day. A strange feeling of resentment had crept in. These strangers, carrying on with their lives, seemingly unaware of the jealousy you harbored for their happiness. 

Your thoughts trail back to Dave and the evening again. It was only the first day and the optimism around this vacation was starting to wane. 

“Shit— I must have really needed some fucking sleep.”  Dave groans as he joins you on the balcony, his hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The sheet wrinkles embedded into the side of his face matched the similar ones on his cotton pajama pants and gray sleep shirt. His sleep etched voice is one of your favorite things to wake up to each morning. “I don’t even remember falling asleep at all.” 

His body molds into yours, caging you in against the edge of the balcony. He’s warm and soft first thing in the morning. Like a moth to a flame, his lips find your skin. Tiny wet pecks from the base of your neck to your temple. 

There was a point in time where things in your marriage felt very easy and Dave wasn’t always so invested in his work. You never felt like you were competing with files and phone calls for his undivided attention. The infatuation he held for you was palpable, leaving little room for doubt or worry. 

When you met Dave there was an enigmatic quality about him. Neither of you were in a relationship or seeking out one, but also not completely opposed to the prospect of exploring one if something happened to fall into your laps. A chance meeting at a bar when his drink had literally fallen into your lap led to the rest of the evening spent tucked away in a dimly lit booth. The buzz of alcohol had you talking his ear off, and he allowed you to do so, consuming every little detail about you. 

Dave shared minimal information about himself. Very on brand for his reserved but alluring demeanor. Aside from basic introductory  facts, the only real thing you knew about him was his recent discharge from the military and his onboarding career in the CIA. 

By the end of the night, you felt there was something intriguing about Dave, completely drawn to him. He was kind, generous and clearly the greatest listener. Ideally, he was someone you could see yourself with, wanting to know the ins and outs of who he was. So much so, you gave him your number. Scrawled across a beer soaked napkin, the ink bleeding out as each digit was carefully written out. He even said he’d call, leaving you with a kiss on your cheek before rejoining his buddies and calling it a night. 

It was a week before you heard from him again, nearly giving up any hope he would be even remotely interested in you. 

You learned that Dave’s walls were strong. Built of the strongest concrete. Resistant and impermeable to the elements. Over time his walls couldn’t withstand the depth at which you were willing to endure for him. Slowly crumbling and exposed. Finding that underneath the rubble was a man who was all in. A man who loved hard and never once made you question his loyalty to you. 

“We can blame it on the jet lag.” You laugh softly into the coffee mug, taking another sip— definitely in need of more. 

“Good morning, Honey.” He says, nudging his aquiline nose into your cheek, instinctively turning into him. 

“Morning, Babe.” Dave turns you, the top of your robe slides off your shoulder— exposing the lace set you were still wearing.  

“You’re still wearing it. Didn’t even get the chance to peel it off of you like I wanted to last night.” Pulling at the robe belt, the front falls open. Dave’s eyes widened, taking you all in, his irises now a deeper shade of his usual brown. “

“Yeah, well—“ You huffed, suppressing the impulse to acknowledge the hurt that was still ever-present. 

“Fuck— Baby, I’m sorry. I'm two for two now. Let me make it up to you?” 

Dave’s hands breach the inside of your robe. His hips flush to you— he’s hard, morning wood ready and eager. His deft fingers slide up the length of your spine, your skin covered in goosebumps once he reaches the clasp of the bra. 

“Morning coffee breath— I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” Your head swerves his oncoming kiss, pulling the front of your robe closed again. 

A hitch in your confidence. Curling in on yourself as you dislodge your body from where he has you pinned. That hot coiling response building in your lower abdomen, moments ago desperate for the way Dave wants you, now subsiding to a low simmer.

“You— um, have those calls you still need to make this morning?” You ask him, standing half way through the door, turning enough to catch the sunlight illuminating the bafflement on Dave’s face. 

“Uh— Yeah. Still need to make those calls.” Dave’s dejected tone hits you like a bucket of ice. His head hanging and palms digging into his eyes. 

“How long do you think it should take?”

“Few hours, give or take. Done by noon at the latest.”

“Okay. Maybe, if you’re up for it when you’re done— maybe we can go to the pool? Lounge a bit. Have some drinks. I got some new bathing suits, and have been dying to wear them. I think you might even like them.” An olive branch in the form of you served on a platter wearing minimal clothing. The likelihood of Dave accepting is rather favorable. 

It’s unmistakable, devouring you— all conspicuous like and intense. Surveying every inch of your form leaning against the doorway. 

Up the length of your smooth bare legs. The front of the robe flapping with the ocean breeze offering a peek of thigh and black lace. The fingers of your free hand toy with the collar, making it lay askew across your chest. A single breast exposed to cool morning air, nipple tight against the sheer material. 

His gaze finally meets yours, shoulders lowering to their normal level. The slightest lift at the corner of his mouth, tip of his tongue gliding over his full bottom lip. Both of you landing on the same page, temptation reciprocated with blatant irresistibility. 

“Yeah— Yeah, we can definitely do that.” He replied, his smile widening, the corner of his eyes crinkled— the Dave you fell in love with all those years ago in his truest form. 

“Okay. I’ll order us some breakfast then. More coffee too. I drank the whole pot.” There’s a giddy feeling erupting inside of you. It seems like it’s been ages since you’ve seen Dave smile— genuinely smiling. 

“Not surprised by that one bit. Hey—“ Capturing your attention before you’ve completely left the balcony. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Of course I do. I love you, too.”

Maybe it’s complacency that makes you feel like things within your marriage are stagnant, even borderline dull as of recently. The lack of regular intimacy, a normal thing all couples encounter at some point through their years together, not a telltale sign of extramarital meandering. Maybe that’s also not a bad thing. Just a season of life. A small hiccup in your otherwise normal and loving relationship. 

*

As promised, it’s noon by the time Dave wraps up his final phone call and you’re both sitting atop the roof of the hotel. Basking in the sweltering rays of the California sun is exactly what was needed after being cooped up in the room all morning. 

Breakfast in bed while Dave paced the length of the balcony. One phone call after the next, all varying in degrees of duration and intensity based on how animated Dave’s hand gestures and contorted expressions were. You had delivered his plate of eggs, sausage and toast during his first call, leaving it on the small table along with a fresh pot of coffee. He kissed you and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before sinking his teeth into the burnt buttered bread and continuing his meeting or whatever it was he was doing. 

The minute he walked in announcing he was finished, your two piece suit was on and you were throwing Dave’s swim trunks at him from across the room. Tote bag containing pool lounging necessities— sunscreen, sunglasses, current book, wallet —was packed and waiting by the door. Your sheer excitement filled the room, a contagious feeling in the way Dave was mildly laughing at your frantic antics. 

Either you both were the only ones staying at this hotel or no one else found joy in a gorgeous rooftop pool like you did. In the few hours spent lounging poolside, there was one, maybe two, other guests that also had an afternoon by the pool on their itinerary, too. There was a silent understanding among everyone that they stay in their respective spaces, evenly spaced out.  

No one was complaining though. Fewer people meant less people lined up for cocktail refills at the bar. Fewer obnoxious conversations you didn’t have to drown out while focusing on the romance novel you were close to finishing. Zero avoidance of bodies in the water while Dave and you took a dip to cool off. Aside from visiting the pacific, this is how you intended to spend the rest of your days in California. 

The moment you dive into your book, time and everything around you becomesa faint distraction from the fictional world you're absorbed in. The sheriff with his cowboy drawl and ridiculously handsome mustache, falls for the sweet baker. A reunion of past lovers, doing life together somewhere on the east coast in the small town they both reside in. A typical smitten cowboy vying for her love and attention at any chance he gets. There’s a permanent smile plastered across your face, dog-eared corners for future you to return to with the intention to relive the passages all over again. Page by page, you’re so engrossed with their whirlwind romance— you never want it to end. 

The book consumes you longer than you planned for. So much so, you're unaware of the fact that Dave is no longer immersed in the LA Times he picked up in the hotel lobby earlier. The inked paper now folded neatly and discarded on the ground next to your tote.

Dave’s tortoise colored shades blocking out the sun and hiding the fact that he’s passed out. For how long, you’re not sure. Breathing is light and rhythmic. His usual thundering snore trades for small puffs of air from his parted lips. His bare golden chest, now a pale shade of red— shit!

Folding the current page of the book, tossing it to the end of your lounge chair, you sit up in search for more sunscreen for Dave, and yourself. Sifting through the contents of your tote, finding the bottle conveniently at the bottom. Hating the feeling of residual lotion getting between your jewelry, you remove your rings and toss them into a secured pocket inside the tote. 

“Dave? Babe, wake up!” Gently nudging his bare shoulder to wake him. 

“Hmmm—“ Dave grumbles a string of incoherent sleep laden words, lifting his head in your direction. 

“Sorry. You passed out and I was so caught up in my book, I didn’t realize the umbrella shade wasn’t covering us anymore. You’re not completely burnt, but we’ve been here for a while. Sit up and let me put some more sunscreen on you.” You motion for him to sit forward, then squeeze a heaping amount of lotion in your hand, tossing the back into the tote. 

Dave hissed, his back arching as you smooth the lotion over his warmed skin, allowing himself to ease into your touch after a few tensed moments. His head hangs below his shoulders as you continue to work the sunscreen over every inch of him that’s exposed to the blazing sun. 

“Fuuuuck— that feels nice.” He groans when your touch switches to a different pressure. Adjusting your focus from protecting him from the harmful rays to pampering him, working out the built up tension he carries around daily. 

Your fingers dig into the meat of his back as they glide up the length of his spine, pinching and squeezing over the rounded muscles of his shoulders. Thumbs pressing into the tender spot in his neck he’s been rubbing at for the better part of the last few weeks, craning his neck to the side. So relaxed you can barely make out his mumbled appreciation. “That fucking knot has been bothering me— Ouch! Fucking hell, woman!” 

“Shh! So dramatic.” You laugh, easing up on the pressure. Your hands still lingering, smoothing over his broadness, taking advantage of the closeness. 

“Oh, quit it. Those hands always were fucking magic, though. Already feels better when I move it.” Demonstrating how limber and loose it feels, rolling his head from side to side. 

Were. His use of past tense doesn’t go unnoticed. It might have just been an unintentional slip, but its use isn’t lost on you in the slightest. It feels like it’s been ages, since you had explored each other—  more than just a fleeting brush of hands. Reveling in an endless honeymoon phase, well beyond the traditional sense. You can only assume he had that same realization too, hence his choice in using were instead of are. But this moment feels too good to dwell on the logistics of proper past and present tense, so you push the thought aside. 

“I’m sure if you play your cards right, there’s plenty more magic these hands can do later.” You playfully purred, not missing the way Dave’s eyebrows jut up from behind his sunglasses— that catches his attention. 

You settle back into your lounge chair, sliding the straps of your bikini top down and off your arms, turning it into a makeshift strapless top as you prepare to cover yourself in a fresh layer of sunscreen. 

 “What are you doing?” Dave tilts his head forward, just enough so he can peer at you over his glasses. 

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m reapplying some on myself, too.” Running the oily lotion up your arms and shoulders. 

“Here. Let me help you. Seems only fair.” His hand reaches out to you.  

“It’s fine, Dave. I can manage.” 

You’re not sure why you're shocked by his offer. Probably because you just assumed he would be diving back into reading up on worldly news. Top slimy politician was fighting for his life against rather damning accusations— the man is guilty, solely based on public opinion polls and your inherent duty as a woman to always believe the woman. Research shows more couples are putting their careers first, waiting to have children well into their thirties— that one does catch your eye, making a mental note to snag the article at some point. Sure, you can manage, but you also don’t want to. Not with him right here, so willing and capable. 

“Don’t be stubborn, Baby. And don’t think I won’t drag that sweet ass of yours over here if I have to. Give me the bottle and sit down.” 

It feels incredible. You have to remind yourself that you’re both in a public setting. This isn’t the time nor the place to let the salacious side of you self-indulge, but Dave’s hands are inducing the most carnal thoughts and it’s taking everything in you to not haul him back up to the room. 

Dave had practically hauled you into the chair. Maneuvering you both into a comfortable sitting position, his legs spread and feet planted firmly on the ground and you practically sitting in his lap. 

The task at hand is long forgotten, no longer a priority or even a relevant thought as you melted into him. His chest firm against your back, thighs caging and tight against your own. 

It’s when his hands cup your breast that nearly sends you into another dimension, so brazen and menacing. A practiced musician, slowly plucking each string of his beloved instrument as the chords play the intro to his well rehearsed song. Rolling your peaked nipples between his fingers, the fabric of your top adding just the right amount of pinched pulsation. Your eyes fluttering shut as your head falls back onto his shoulder, stifling a moan as pleasure surges through you. 

“I swear to god, Dave— fuck! Someone is going to catch us! ahh! Y-you need to s-stop before…” 

“Hmmm. I don’t know, Baby— I think you want them to see. Want them to catch my hands all over you. Hear the sounds I’m able to pull from you. I could probably fuck you right here and no one would even care.” Dave murmurs into your ear. A husked sonorous tone that has you completely surrendering to him. 

He seems to have this whole thing thoroughly thought out in a brief amount of time. Keen to his surroundings, already having scanned the entire area, aware of the people situated in cabanas on the far corner of the pool— paying no mind to either of you. His methodical nature takes hold, even as exposed as you are, he’d never put you in any situation he didn’t have complete confidence in. 

“Dave—“ Your body writhes with each continuous change in motion, the way he’s oscillating between a dizzy tweak of your nipples and the sudden dart of his tongue grazing your ear lobe. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you. It’s been so long— fucking miss the way you feel, Baby.” Fuck. He’s not wrong. 

You might have even mentioned you would be into it at some point. All vulnerable and the slightest possibility of being detected. It was more thrilling than you had expected it to be. You weren’t even ashamed how you were so absolutely turned on by your own boldness. 

“Please—“ 

“I bet you’re fucking wet for me too. Hmm? Would take much— pull those skimpy little bottoms to the side, bet I’d slide right in.” God you were! Unquestionably so, and throbbing. 

His hand traveled to where you’ve been craving him for so long, fingers brushing the top of your bathing suit bottoms.  

“Christ! Don’t you d-dare put those lotion covered fingers anywhere near my— Fuuuuck!”

Dave wouldn’t dare, but that doesn’t mean he won’t work around it. His hand cupping your clothed mound, your eager hips rocking against the heel of his palm. His face smashes into your cheek when he feels how wet you are, your bottoms sticky with arousal and clinging to your pussy as he slides two fingers back up to your aching clit. Groaning as he takes your lobe between his teeth and gently bites down. 

“Tsk tsk!” Clicking his tongue in a menacing manner. “Eyes open, Baby. Need you to keep watch, can’t have anyone seeing you while you fall apart.”

You’ve missed this side of him. Spontaneous sex was always something that was a regular occurrence in your early relationship even well into your marriage. You always looked forward to the days he’d come home without so much as a hello when he walked through the front door. His briefcase and coat were abandoned somewhere in the entryway— I missed you so much today. Need you right now —and then he was fucking you like a starved man against the wall in the hallway. 

“Dave—“ Your lashes flutter, the sun unforgiving as you fight to keep your eyes focused on your surroundings. Your body so desperate for pleasure, so willing to succumb, just needing a little help to get there.

Each tender circle he draws over your clit has your brain muddled with bliss. A restrained whimper escapes, doing your best to concentrate as Dave continues to work you into a euphoric mess. But it’s so hard when your body has been yearning for this, all of this, for so long. 

Your nails bite into his thighs as your lower abdomen begins to tighten. 

“Baby, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Those gorgeous sounds are gonna get us in trouble.” Fuck! Almost there! So fucking close—

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

“Dave— is that…” The lounge vibrates, halting Dave’s movements. The orgasm that was just starting to barrel towards you, vanishing from your grasp. 

“Shit! I, uh, think someone saw us—“ What?! No one is even paying attention!

Dave extricates himself from the chair, adjusting his sunglasses and his pronounced erection bulging under his swim trunks. He hastily grabs for some things as you sit perplexed by the sudden change in his demeanor. Your sexy audacious husband is gone before your eyes— leaving you with the tight lipped cryptic Dave, who you can’t seem to get a read on. 

“What the fuck, Dave!” Watching as he slips on his sandals and throws his shirt over himself, playing no mind to a single button. 

“Let’s finish this later— when we get back to the room, hmm? I’m gonna… go get us more drinks.” He says as he kisses the top of your head and heads in the direction of the bar. Hoping he brings back some shots, because you’re gonna need something strong to take the fucking edge off. 

“Yeah— sure…” You say. Stunned and breathless.

*

You're not sure if you want to cry, scream or laugh as you crawl back into your chair. Maybe a mixture of all of them. What a sight that would be. 

That brief glimpse of the fun adventurous Dave was intoxicating, even now your body is still buzzing and aroused. There’s a pang in your chest at how quickly he was able to mold back into the man you’ve needed for the past year, yearned to have back. Then instantly closed off and distant as if it never happened. Maybe the sun was getting to you, that whole moment some fucking hallucinated fantasy. 

Rather than dwell on it, you push the hurt aside. You reach for your book and settle back into the chair. Finding where you left off and jumping back in with the handsome sheriff, who literally worships the ground that this woman walks on— must be nice. 

“S’cuse me ma’am. Sorry to bother you, but is this seat taken?” A deep voice breaks your concentration, realizing he’s in fact asking you if the unoccupied seat next to you is available. 

A man in his mid forties, maybe early fifties is standing at the foot of the chair next to you. Your sunglasses hide the fact that you're giving him a once over, noting every detail about this random stranger who’s decided of all the empty seats, he wants the one next to you. 

His hair is slightly disheveled in a deliberate manner. Peppered streaks of gray throughout his curly locks. He’s wearing green and red plaid swim shorts and a worn dark blue t-shirt, kind of an odd pairing but it seems to work for him. You notice a dimple hidden beneath the gray scruff that almost hides his angular features. He seems harmless and rather handsome— plus, it would be rude to turn him away with no explanation. 

“Nope. Feel free to use it.” You smile at him kindly and go in search of the words you had just read. 

“Thanks so much.” He says as he removes his shirt and settles down on the lounge chair. 

“Of course. It’s no problem at all.” You tell him. 

You don’t even dare to look in his direction. You imagine this is what Eve felt like, tempted and allured by carnality in the form of an apple. Except your carnal desire is a fizzling orgasm your husband couldn’t even be bothered to deliver, now reawakening at the sight of this beautiful man. 

You would never act on anything, even as beautiful as he was, you were married and you love Dave— but that didn’t mean you couldn't admire, sunglasses masking your lingering eyes. 

“I’m Joel by the way. Joel Miller.” His hand outstretched to you, that damn dimple even more pronounced when he smiles. 

“I take it you’re not from around these parts are you now, Joel.” You give him your name and return the handshake— his grip is rather firm, but friendly. 

 “What gave it away?” He laughs. There’s a hint of southern drawl woven into his rich voice. 

“Well, you don’t seem like the California boy type for starters. Not that that’s a bad thing— I just get the impression you’re far from home.” You fold another page and drop your book into your bag, your attempt at reading sidelined again. 

“You’d be correct then. Texas— born ‘n raised. Since we’re makin’ impressions, I’m gonna guess you’re not from ‘round here either?” He looks over to you, his arms crossed over his tanned chest. The breeze catching a few of his curls, tossing them about. 

“You would also be correct. So what brings you all the way west, cowboy?” 

“My daughter, actually. She’s gettin’ married this week. Fiancé’s family is out here and they’ve got connections and what not, so they’re able to do it here at the hotel. They put me up in one of the suites, bein’ I am the father of the bride an’ all.” 

“Oh! Congratulations then. I’m sure you’re so excited then.” 

“Yea’. Crazy seein’ her all grown up an’ goin’ off on her own. Still got one more though. She’s turning 16– little wild thing she is. Keeps me on my toes, but I love her for it.”

You get the sense that being a father is one of his favorite things. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he started talking about his kids. 

“You and your wife must be so proud.”

“Nah, no wife— or girlfriend. Jus’ me and my girls. So, now that I’ve bothered you with my life story. What brings you out this way to California?” 

What am I even doing in California? You think to yourself. It’s then you catch sight of your husband at the bar. Dave is already looking in your direction, leaning against the wood counter, waving at you with his phone glued to his ear. 

“See that guy over at the bar? The one talking on the phone.” You wave back at Dave. You pick up on the shift in his demeanor from where you're sitting. His jaw clenched and brows furrowed enough you can make out the deep lines across his forehead. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shooting daggers at Joel— but you do know better, and that’s exactly what’s happening. “That’s my husband. We’re supposed to be here relaxing— not working. But he’s over there taking a phone call, when he was going to grab us more drinks and I’m here relaxing. Maybe one day he’ll actually show some interest in me again— until then it’s just work work work. Geez— I’m sorry to dump all of that personal shit on you. Like you even care about a stranger's marital problems.”  

“No need to apologize— I get it. My ex and me had our own issues. Tried to work through them, for the sake of the kids n’ all.” He says, waving off your apology.  

“I’m guessing it didn’t go so well?” You look out over the pool, catching a few gulls passing over. You can already sense his heavy answer before he even gives it to you. 

“Well, she’s my ex for a reason. But it’s for the best. And not saying that’s what’s gonna happen for you. We love our kids and do this whole co-parentin’ thing better than when we were married. Umm— y'all got any kids?”

“Uhh— no, no kids. Yet… I think? I mean, we both talked about once our careers were established we would start trying. And we did try for a bit, but never got pregnant, which we were okay with— figured it would happen when it happens. But now, I’m not really sure if it’s what he wants anymore.” You pick at the polish on your nails. 

You realize it’s been awhile since you and Dave readdressed the conversation about having kids. It’s always been idling in the back of your mind. Becoming a mother was something you would love to do. With Dave never really ever being present or interested in any sort of in-depth conversation, you haven’t really discussed where you both stand now on the topic. 

“Have you asked him?”

“No. I haven’t. I probably sh—“

You’re cut off when Dave reappears, holding nothing but his phone and wallet. 

“Hey, Sweetheart!” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice, his tone a slightly higher pitch than usual, though he tries to hide it as he bends to kiss the top of your head. 

“Babe, this is Joel. He’s here for his oldest daughter’s wedding. Joel, this is my husband Dave. Where’s our drinks?” Attempting to ease the weird tension he brought back with him instead of your drinks. . 

Dave’s glaring at Joel. His lips pressed in a tight line and his nostrils flared. Irritated? No, it’s jealousy. He’s jealous and it’s oozing from him. Dave was jealous at the attention, all innocent and friendly, that you were receiving from another man. 

“Uh, nice to meet you.” Dave reaches over you, taking Joel’s hand in his. He’s friendly enough, even though his smile looks rather forced. “We hate to run out on you like this, Joel— we’ve got dinner reservations later on and the sun is starting to get to me. You don’t mind if we head to the room early, Babe.”

“Yeah, of course, Baby. Let’s go— you probably need more water and some rest before dinner.” You get up from the chair to pull your cover up dress on and begin to gather everything between yours and Joel’s chair, throwing it haphazardly back into your bag. “It was so nice meeting you, Joel. Hope your daughter has a beautiful day and you have a great time.”

“Thank you. Now you two get outta here and enjoy your evening. My brother is wanderin’ around somewhere. I’m sure he’ll end up here at some point. Nice meetin’ y'all.” Joel says, giving a cordial nod and a two finger wave. 

You call out to Dave when you realize he’s already halfway to the exit, hoping he’ll snap out of whatever this thing is he’s doing. Knowing it’s more than just the sun that’s bothering him. 

“Dave, what’s going on? Are you okay?” You ask, stepping into the elevator with him. 

“I’m good. Got a bit of a headache. Probably just too much sun.” His thumb smashes into the floor number. The elevator doors slowly obstructing the rooftop view. 

*

The walk back to the room felt like it was never ending. The slap on your sandals against the carpeted floor and exchanged hello’s with the sweet old lady dragging far more bars than she could handle were the only sounds echoing through the long hallway. 

Dave’s body, all broad and inflexible, blocked the room door as he searched for the key card in his wallet. 

“Dave? Are you going to talk to me and tell me what’s actually going on?” You ask softly. 

The door beeps and Dave pushes it open. He seems to not have lost all his senses because he holds it open for you. 

“Dave, will you at least look at me— please?” You toss everything you’re carrying onto the bed, watching him walk over to the floor to the large windows. 

Even from behind, you know he’s wearing his sharp scowl. Proven by the way his hip is cocked out and on hand resting on his waist, head hanging with his attention on the floor. Too embarrassed to acknowledge he might have overreacted up at the pool. 

“Dave, were you jealous?.” You ask, your voice velvety and sweet. Taking a few tempered steps, you close the distance between you and where he’s standing, needing him to know everything was okay. You smooth over his solid back, all brooding with his shoulder blades tightly drawn together. One hand sliding around to his chest and the other reaching for the hand hanging at his side, intertwining your fingers with his, your grip tightening around him. “Baby— you were, weren't you? It’s okay if you were, you know. It’s obviously a natural reaction to have. I know I’d react the same way if it were you and some gorgeous woman. But baby, you know I only have eyes for you and only you— always. I love you, Dave.”

“I love you and I’m sorry.” Dave sighs, his hand squeezing back. I overreacted and shouldn’t have— it's implied without him actually voicing it, but you know he means it. 

“Did you still want to go out for dinner? If you’re not feeling up to it, we can just order in again so you can rest.” You ask him, resting your nose and lips against his sun warmed skin, breathing him in. 

His aroma is pungent, but familiarly pleasant. A subtle note of coconut blends with his trademark spicy musk and sweat. It reminds you of the summer while you were dating, Dave whisked you away to Rehoboth Beach on the coast of Delaware. Renting out a beach house on the water where you spent every morning watching the sun flee the horizon from the front porch. Evenings spent walking near the water’s edge, recounting your favorite parts of the day and dreaming of a future together.

“Yeah, we can still go out. I just— I need a minute. Gonna get some fresh air.” He says, turning his head to tell you over his shoulder. 

“Okay. I’m going to take a quick shower then.” You kiss the nape of his neck before you leave, grabbing the robe off the accent chair as you head to the bathroom. 

At the flick of the switch, a soft glow of light cascades from the decorative wall sconces. Everything becomes very automatic as you move through the room, placing the robe over the sink,  ridding yourself of your pool attire, thrown into a growing pile in the corner of the room. Intent on unwinding, trusting the spray of hot water will alleviate the weight of today’s tension before going out with your husband, until you hear Dave’s voice fading as he walks out into the balcony, muffled by the distant waves and passing cars. 

“Hey, Ashley. It’s Dave, sorry about earlier…”

Ashley. It’s light and beautiful, and yet feels like the most threatening thing to have ever pierce through your heart. All your emotions flowing, congealing as one giant mass within your ribcage. Its numbness best describes the way you feel, hollowing out the pain in your chest. It's too much to deal with or even believe. You shut the door, avoidance being one of your worst traits— but if you don’t confront it, it doesn’t exist. 

Likes, Comments & Reblogs Appreciated

[maiarayavt]

Just finished Book 7 😭 (tw: Spoilers + rambling ahead) and thank goodness I had Dorm Leona and Dorm Vil they CARRIED the fights so I kinda breezed through those battles 😮‍💨

(Unlike Book 6 where I was pulling my hair out trying to strategize my gameplay)

Now, I gotta take a breather because wtf was this trauma 😭 SILVER DONT CRY PLEASE I JUST WANNA GIVE HIM A SMOOCH AND A HUG AND CALL IT A DAY 😭

Sebek also looks so done here lmfao

Speaking of Sebek "Living Bolt" Zigvolt HE LOOKS SO GOOD WITH HIS HAIR DOWN!! I'm def. pulling for Everknight Sebek this month. I also like the fact that we got to see a bit more of his no-nonsense character and where he's coming from with all this human vs fae stuff. He's really grown on me and I've only just played the earlier parts of Book 7.

Plus that whole scene with his grandfather might even be cathartic since he's somewhat "earned" (or confirmed?) his grandfather's approval - even if it was through a dream.

Though it's really funny how everytime he uses his unique magic he gets jolted HAHA his seiyuu definitely knocked the comedic timing out of the park here

This whole scene also cracked me up 😂 Yes Silver, it's Superman Idia!!

Also very hot of Idia to be this confident. I half expected him to look a little more fearful but instead we got our genius engineer coming to save the day (not that he has a choice lol)

Can't wait for the next chapter!!

[nightwonder7]

Hey! I discovered your Tumblr like, now haha, I loved your art and your Norton AU! I wonder, other than Norton, How did the other survivors and shape-shifting Hunters deal with it? Does Alice also change to Little Girl?

AAaaaahhh I'm so late to this ask! ;<; But thank you so much!! Q////////Q I'm really glad to hear you like it!! ;U;

---------

So I'll just get Orpheus out of the way first; as Novelist and Nightmare had release dates very close to each other, I like to think that he has always had both forms in the eternal manor, and thus didn't really have any learning curves where he had to adapt to another faction. He was the first identity switch character and kinda adjusted to both at the same time with his new living situation.

---------

Luchino and Joker I feel like had a similar experience becoming survivors after being hunters for so long, but handled it differently. So characters with identity switches are often described with the id/ego model, where one side acts on impulse and pleasure, and the other on morals and rationality. Hunters seem to represent the id, and survivors the ego for these guys.

So imagine someone who has been a hunter for a long time suddenly snapping out of this impulsive, freeing mindset when being reminded of their morals and values. I imagine it as a "waking up from a long nightmare" kinda ordeal. They weren't hunters before entering the eternal manor, but were twisted and forced into such roles upon entering for whatever reason. I can see turning into their survivor mindset after so long in chaos as sorta cathartic. But also an emotional roller-coaster. The denial of their new vulnerable position as survivors. Getting used to their old bodies again. The sinking realisation and regrets of everything they have done while being "free" that has gone against their morals and values. Navigating the jungle of gaining trust from the other survivors as well as learning or relearning how to work in teams.

I can see Luchino would approach it as a bit of an experiment. An opportunity to explore his new position with curiosity and fascination and learn from it. He'd probably handle it the best out of everyone tbh. Joker would need a lot more time to adjust to the changes. Perhaps he'd have a long period of being reticent and depressed. In denial while he comes to term with his predicament.

I have gotten a few asks about Luchino's and Joker's identity switches that have given me a few ideas that I intend to draw some day.

---------

This ask came before the announcement of Hullabaloo, but I'll say a few words about him regardless. It's probably similar to Norton as it is a situation of a long term survivor turning into a hunter. But I feel like Mike would have a harder time with it. In Fool's Gold's case, it was gaining the freedom to express all his pent up emotions. He is happy and relieved, albeit on a surface level. Hullabaloo seems like an empty husk, tormented by the pain from a life that imploded. All those negative emotions coming back to him in the eternal manor and twisting him into this wraith-like shape. Perhaps as a hunter he doesn't really realise what he is doing when in a game? In his hunter mindset, he is only focused on bringing justice to his tragedy and doesn't care who it affects. Snapping out of it after a game would be... interesting nonetheless.

Furthermore, Mike was probably more liked by the other survivors than Norton. And he was super popular and loved at the circus. So seeing everyone being suddenly on edge and distrusting of him (maybe even hated) would hit him hard. Whereas Norton was kinda used to people not liking or caring about him.

On a more comedic note, I can definitely see Mike forgetting his dual roles at the manor from time to time. At least the other survivors have learned to play along after all the shenanigans with Fool's Gold.

---------

Now to Alice... so technically in-game, Alice is Memory and vice versa. She is considered an identity switch character. However, I see them as two different entities. My reason for this is that the other identity switch characters have one thing in common; no matter what faction or form they take, they are the same person with the same names. Fool's Gold is Prospector, and he is Norton Campbell. Evil Reptilian is Professor, and he is Luchino Diruse and so on. One represents the ego, while the other represents the id. How others perceive them under the influence of the drugs happens to be the form the id takes. Memory is straight up a hallucination conjured up by Orpheus. She shows up when Orpheus as a detective is alone, so she is not there in place of Alice. Furthermore, Little Girl's name is Memory, not Alice; maybe because she is a memory from Orpheus' psyche. Then there is the whole can of worms of whether Memory is human or not cause she can teleport and sync with other survivors in-game, but I don't know if I can use that as an argument when there are flying lizard-men and humanoid rock piles gfshgfjskd

Though I'll say some of this could change with AoM3. Perhaps the little girl will be how Orpheus sees Alice during this event. But it would be a little odd if that is how he perceives Alice under the influence of the fear drugs, cause Memory is not some scary monster; she is the representation of the past Orpheus is longing for. And perhaps there is another reason for why she goes by a different name than Alice. Furthermore, I feel like we don't know enough about Alice or Memory to pinpoint if Memory really is a part of Alice in the id/ego model, or if she is just an ideal version of Alice in Orpheus' mind. But as things stand now, I'm seeing them as two different entities. In the Eternal Manor AU, Orpheus' imagination is apparently so strong that it has conjured up a whole person.

So yeah... that's the best I can explain my thoughts on this.

[sicklyworm]

hello your taste in characters is so cool and based i LOVE shang qinghua. i was wondering what ur thoughts r on his relationship with shen qingqiu as portrayed in the books and in canon?

i feel like even tho they have great scenes together, we don't get all that much interaction between the two so its easy to miss key details about how exactly their dynamic works.

like, in fanfiction i often find that writers tend to write shen qingqiu as like Incredibly antagonist towards shang qinghua or they're the bestest friends in the entire world and neither of those feel quite right, but otherwise getting their relationship accurate seems to be kinda tough.

Oh dear moot thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about this!

My thoughts on cannon Cumplane:

SQH and SQQ's friendship mostly stems from circumstance.

Both of them are modern men in a ancient fantasy world with little to no connection too there past lives. They both have to act out the strict standards of ancient chinese culture while on the inside both of them are brain rotted netizens.

So having another transmigrator who they can unmask with and be able to say all the shit they can't elsewhere is probably super cathartic!

They do like pestering and annoying each other in cannon. But rather than interpreting this as animosity i believe this is just another sign of them cutting loose and being more authentic than they usually can be.

Now this not to say they are ride or dies. Both of them have things they prioritize over there friendship and that's okay! They can have a good friendship without being all super loyal and dramatic about it.

Honestly it would be OCC if SQH suddenly stopped be a slimy rat bastard because he was circumstance buddies with SQQ. And with how thin SQQ's face is it would be SUPER OCC for him to declaring they were besties lol.

Also side note about SQQ being portrayed as antagonistic in fanfiction:

Many people find SQH relatable and get really defensive about his character because of that. I can easily understand someone misinterpreting there dynamic as hostile and getting super defensive and start character bashing SQQ because of that.

We all love our favorite characters but it's important to keep a level of separation in mind when writing!

Extra:

I was rereading the books to make sure my brain wasn't getting things mixed up and I realized that most of the time SQH is the one doing the pestering in cannon. Yes SQQ does go on his little tirades about PIDW but with his face being so thin and SQH being so shameless it's usually SQQ at the butt of the jokes!

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 101

Hello everyone, Smite here!

2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY of Monday of Appreciation!

My first MoA post was posted on the 20th of September 2021, two years. Time really flies, huh? I don't want this to be just another MoA 100 post, but I really gotta thank you all, especially because Part 100 received so much love, God, it made me so happy <3 It was a kinda cathartic moment, the series had an epic peak... all thanks to you.

I definitely also want to thank all the writers, without whom this all wouldn't exist. My way of thanking you all is by... featuring a FUCKTON of stories below. Even if you are not featured (first of all, I'm sorry lol), I still appreciate your work and comradery in the bunker. Y'all are amazing <3

LET'S GET TO IT!!!

No. 1: @dnd-writes: Way of Water ft. Eunbi

Ah yes, Waterbomb Eunbi. The event that captured us all. The idea with the backup dancer is straight forward, nice, but the greatest thing about this is the watersports. Waterbomb, watersports... you get it? Just read it.

No.2: @leafostuff: No Names Needed ft. Sheon (Billlie)

Thanks to Leafo for spreading the good word of Sheon and her... goddamn midriff. No more reasons needed, appreciate this girl already, ugh.

No. 3: @iznsfw: The Devil's Telephone ft. Yujin

Everything IZ touches skips the part where it turns to gold. Fuck gold, IZ just creates diamondtic-masterpieces. I was thrilled to learn about this fic and when I read it... IZ did it again! This portrayal of Yujin is everything. What are we to your might!

No. 4: @idyllicidols: Cheat Day ft. Wonyoung

Wonyoung gangbang with her fans? I bet you all are already foaming at your mouth. Go on. Read it. Leave some love for this talented writer after getting your loads off the screen.

No. 5: @rvp32: Whisper of Uncontrollable Desire ft. Chaewon

Let me tell you, rvp is great! They don't hold back, they go all out, they try A/B/O, they like futa (please write futa!) and they have a Gaeul series. This one fucking sent me <3

No. 6: @existslikepristin: Not Summer Yet ft. Jeongyeon

Thx ELP for the nice message on Part 100! Thanks also for giving us these crazy pieces again and again (well, this one isn't too crazy for your standards, but you get me). This felt really intimate, liked it!

No. 7: @dreamcatchers-husband: The City of Love and Secrets ft. Sejeong

You better learn French for this fic. But fr, now I wanna go to Paris and marry a beautiful girl before :floshed: filling her up because she truly is mine now ahhhhh

No. 8: @capslocked: SERENDIPITY ft. Eunbi

Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, what am I gonna do with you? Your fics are ALWAYS in my to read list and when I get to them... yeah, takes more than one attempt... more like five. Fuck you, I love you.

No. 9: @ggidolsmuts: Sin, Hormones and the Starlet's Boyfriend ft. Yunjin, Somi

HOLY FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK, that was so FUCKING hot, I caaaaan't stop meeeeee, this is so good, I need more of this. Yeah, basically every ddeun fic makes me go like this. What a fucking legend, man.

No. 10: @smuttysabina: A Pervert Bred by Perverts only Breeds more Perverts ft. E:U (Everglow)

As you can see, the title is quite elaborate on what happens in this fic. A bunch of perverts, a lot (and I do mean a LOT) of cum to breed and in the end everyone is happy. You too, you filthy pervert?

No. 11: @writingsomesin-amber: Puppies' New Toy Part 3 ft. LSFM, Xiaoting

FUTA, the best kind of futa. The one with Alphas, with Kazuha (who always has a HUGE cock), with boundless sex that's just horny nonsense. This is what I want to read. Thank you for writing it!

No. 12: @co-reborn: [PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4 ft. Jiheon

This is a sequel to probably the best porn focused smut to ever exist. Thank you, c.o, for creating this, for making it a universe and for dropping another Jiheon smut. She hot, you hot <3

No. 13: @pfxhk: Staircase: Prepotent Pleasure ft. Yuqi

Kaaajin <3 finally another Yuqi fic and a very good one at that. I want her hot lips wrapped around me too now.

No. 14: @rosiesmuts: After Dark ft. Rose

Rose little fuck doll. Her pics lately have been mind-fucking or sth like that, I dunno, just sex. Oh, and I know a lot of good things happen late at night.

No. 15: @akkaweo-akkaweo: Treatment ft. Jinsoul

That's the treatment wr allll want from our dear Jinsoul. Her gorgeous visuals have really stunned me since she joined Modhaus. Now paint that pretty face.

No. 16: @mode-lfy: Jinni (SMUT) ft. Jinni (ex-NMIXX)

Sooooo... when does Jinni unzip my pants, first thing in the morning finally come back?

Edit: SHE ACTUALLY IS?!?! LFG!

No. 17: @worldsover: link in bio top 0.1% creator ft. Jiheon

This one is the follow-up to c.o's [PVV], so we got a whole-ass universe with pornstar!Jiheon now. What a blessing, and it leaves us with no doubt that Jihron would reach that 0.1% if she'd show her cute face and bubble butt on cam... when tho???

No. 18: @allthekingssmut: She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere ft. Heejin

Star Wars is already a win in my book, pair it with hotness everywhere (the sun, a mechanic, her face) and it only gets better and better. The release to all the fucking tension between those two is EPIC. Great fic!

No. 19: @writerpeach: Overindulgent ft. Wonyoung

To say I have over-indluged in this fic would be a massive understatement. When Peach let's loose and pours out tens of thousands of words of unpure smut, we know we got ourselves a massive hit, no matter the idol. To make it even better, Wonyoung.

No. 20: @okaylikesmomo: Kampfyre Part 1 - Vocals ft. Winter

Just one word: vocal training. Wait, that is two words! So Imma a need okay to write a second part to this, because Winter has not been trained enough (imo).

No. 21: @pupyuj: Magic Words ft. Wonyoung (fem!reader)

More love to female reader fics! Especially thise one, with this sweet and spicy Wony that makes girls' legs weak and mine too xD Thank you for this great story and hot smut!

No. 22: @usedpidemo: Parasailing ft. Yuri, Minju

This story feels so nostalgic, so oddly familiar. Like I was there throughout it all and feel entitled to the release at the end. This fic has me gliding, high on their two perfect bodies.

No. 23: @summersault31: Concerto Pt. 1 ft. IU

Blowjobs under the table while tempting another woman into your sinful lifestyle... this combines a clichee with a hook that has you begging: Summer, where is Part 2?

No. 24: @midnightdancingsol: I swear, the Bear Poked Me! ft. futa!Minji x Danielle

Now for the futa appreciation. I think Sol is perfect for this, especially because the mere thought of Minji fucking Dani with her... HUGE COCK... so big and... were was I? Oh yeah, Hanni is also in this.

No. 25: @maemisnippets: You're Mine, Cheeks ft. Chaehyun (fluff)

In between 29 smuts, there is this one short fluff by our dear Maems. Well deserved, I must say. Keep it up, qt, always fun bits to read.

No. 26: @mintwithchoco: [CYMX-461] ft. Choerry, Jinsoul

Monopoly can be so much fun, if you are willing to strike some questionable deals to further your chances of winning and everyone's chances to have a good time. Bathtub sex?

No. 27: @nichuuu: Where our blue is ft. Rei

A beautiful story, it truly made me fall in love with Rei, her strive and determination, her failure, her rise---and the insane, drawn-out fucking at the end. Where our blue is has it all and I have to congratulate @nichuuu: In between all these great writers, this story really stuck out to me!

No. 28: @svndaysaweek: Niche ft. Hanni

Cute little Hanni in need of her step-brother, because she is so deeply in love with him... this was so adorable and sweet at the start and then went into an excessive smut part that fried my brain.

No. 29: @sinswithpleasure: You Can Watch, But You Can't Touch [At Least, Not Yet] ft. Mina, Sana, Momo

I. Would. Not. Last. There is no shame in me saying this, but I just couldn't, with these three hotties right in front of me. Blast it all over their bodies, hng.

No. 30: @xiakato: Ella Baila Sola ft. Xiaoting

Hm, maybe Xiaoting should dance alone, I'm not really good at it though my Just Dance scores would beg to differ.

Hey, if you read all of that, you're fucking awesome. I appreciate you, and hope, you have a great week ahead. Until the next MoA, goodbye!

[ace-disgrace-on-the-case]

I apologize in advance, this was not a writing prompt and this is not my best work but I was absolutely seized by this image and needed to put some of it to paper:

The ground was softer than one would expect. It was supple and moist, begging to give way as the first shovels broke ground. As it turned out, grave dirt made for wonderful farmland.

The first settlers to arrive came as a shock to anyone with common sense. To come to such a place, break ground, and stubbornly insist on staying was tantamount to suicide. It was obvious to anybody you asked, and yet those brave few stayed. Despite the oppressive heat, there they remained.

The demons kept a curious distance from the settlers’ little hamlet at first. They existed for the sole purpose of torturing the damned, and to see living souls willingly enter that place and stay confused them. A few drifted aimlessly between the small homes, carving little symbols in the stucco walls, but they did little to dissuade the settlement’s growth. Like bumblebees in the wind, they eventually grew bored and flitted off to their next tasks.

Eventually the village gave itself a name: Last Stop. The population remained low, yet slowly but surely people came. Their old lives in shambles, disowned and disdained for their differences, they each took a chance and found their way to the Last Stop. In turn each was welcomed, given a job and a home, and celebrated. Theirs was a community fostered by loss and joy in equal measures.

Soon the town of Last Stop had new visitors. Many walked with their heads bowed in shame, others wept as they walked the worn, earthy trail through the city center. They made their way to the cliff face, and there they stayed, sitting by the edge in a somber vigil. Any time a piece of wood was split or hot metal taken to anvil they flinched expectantly. These travelers, it was plain to see, were not like the others: they bore the heavy iron weights of the dead and damned, faces covered with funerary blindfolds and bodies wrapped in loose, tattered robes. The leaders of the village wondered amongst themselves. Why had the dead come here?

No boat ever came to ferry the dead across the inky depths of the ravine. Many of the townsfolk took to avoiding the cliffside clearing where the restless dead gathered, shying away from the painful reminders of their own mortality. It went on like this for some time, until one day a man decided to go out to give them some water. He sat with the dead, passing around large potted jugs and gingerly making conversation. Wary, they accepted his gifts, and talked for a time of their lives, many of which they regretted.

The next day, a woman brought food.

And so it continued, gifts and camaraderie shared bit by bit until the town of Last Stop had welcomed the dead into their midst with open arms. The dead, too, had been rejected from their world, cast down to this place for their slights against their fellow man. But some baked good bread. Some had deft hands with flowers. Some were simply good company. And all were welcome at their town at the end of the road, their Last Stop.

After all, grave dirt makes for wonderful farmland.

I just had a dream about humans building a city outside of hell to befriend the tormented souls.

[xjulixred45x]

I kinda want to see more to the Nezuko Kamado! Reader with Shoko Ieiri headcanons. Since the reader and her older brother were the only survivors of the curse attack and were taken in by Shoko, I’m kinda thinking that the reader would slowly turn into a platonic yandere because she technically saved them from being sold to a clan who would slowly ruin them into the clans image.

Same thing with Shoko, since she has the mother’s instincts i can imagine her having THAT type of a mother’s rage if anything happens to them.

I’m curious about Gojo and Geto (and their adopted children too) slowly turning into yanderes because of how incredibly kind Tanjiro and Reader are.

(And I’m not sure if you ship Gojo x Geto x Shoko), but I wanna see more fathers and mother headcanons since both children lost their parents and younger siblings at a VERY young age

Am all for Female Yandere characters! And is pretty interesting writing not only a Yandere character, but a Yandere Reader!

Thanks for the challenge!

Platonic Yandere! Shoko Ieri(+Satosugu) x Platonic Yandere Nezuko! Reader(Plus Tanjiro)

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female AND male, depending if You want to be Nezuko or Tanjiro.

Warnings: yandere behaviors, platonic Yandere on both sides, overprotection, violence, unhealty mindset, both N!Reader and T! Reader has ISSUES and trauma. Some Fluff here and there.

• Nezuko and Tanjiro were grateful for the life they had now.

• Of course, it wasn't perfect, nothing is. But they were happy to have stumbled upon the right people.

• It would have been a few years since Shoko welcomed them into her home, after the attack of a curse that left them orphans. They were young children, and had the potential to be powerful, so Ieri acted before the other clans did.

• Neither Nezuko nor Tanjiro knew what their lives would have been like if they had been taken in by the Zenin or Kamo clan, but Shoko's almost horror stories made them think less about it. And of course, be even more grateful to have ended up in a kind foster home.

• Shoko, for all her flaws, was a good mentor, a good mother. She genuinely cared about them, wanted them to learn on their own, and above all, protected them from malicious people. The high ranks, the clans, the curse users…

• There were also Gojo and Geto.

• Both sibilings met them, they were the ones who found them after the incident after all. Although they honestly didn't expect them to become an important part of their lives.

• Or maybe it was just the bad habit of waiting for that…

• Satoru was by far the most animated, the one who lifted the children on his shoulders and even made them fly with infinity. It was one of the best childhood memories they had.

• He was also the one who let them get away with it most often. Bringing candy home, buying soda, even bringing animals (even if they had to be released at the end of the day).

• There was a particularly pleasant memory in Tanjiro's mind related to Satoru Gojo. When they were just adjusting to living with Shoko, they didn't have many clothes, so Tanjiro and Nezuko simply made do with sewing what they already had.

• Until Satoru found out about this.

• And the first thing he did was take them shopping for clothes, especially kimonos for Nezuko.

• It was a pleasant experience. Almost cathartic. Tanjiro's family couldn't afford this kind of thing before, so seeing Nezuko enjoy cute, new clothes was…beautiful.

• And then, there was Geto.

• To be fair, Suguru already had experience with children, in some way unknown to Tanjiro and Nezuko, Geto already had two daughters. So it was easier to adapt to him in a way.

• He had his rules, but very sweet and gentle. Nezuko loved when he did her hair. And Tanjiro had to admit that his presence was relaxing.

• Also, he was much calmer than Gojo. So they could talk to him about certain… topics, and not have as visceral a reaction as Gojo would.

• Even with all the good that his strange family had, Tanjiro had to admit that they tended to act in a… disproportionate way. Especially when he and his sister were involved.

• It's not that he had seen them do anything, but the three of them definitely had suspicious attitudes.

• Shoko, for example. He would never let another doctor treat Nezuko or Tanjiro. He said it was to save money on medical bills, but you could see the anger in his eyes when someone else examined Nezuko, or laid a hand on Tanjiro.

• Tanjiro doesn't remember how long he had to talk, beg and convince Ieri to let him and Nezuko join the academy. It wasn't even because the academy was dangerous. It was because she couldn't take care of them there.

• Fortunately, Satoru jumped up to support them and say that he and Suguru would take care of them. After all, they would be his teachers.

• That, ironically, only made Tanjiro more nervous. Why did they feel the need to watch them 24/7?

• Although, on the other hand, this helped him get the answers he needed about his caregivers.

• The first days at the academy were normal, there didn't seem to be any obvious favoritism at first.

• But the more difficult the classes became, the more obvious it became.

• Gojo and Geto would end up taking Tanjiro and Nezuko out on missions if they deemed them “too dangerous” (even if their other teammates could go), making them practice over and over and over again until “they were ready” and that never came—

• That wasn't the worst though.

• The worst thing was if someone pointed out favoritism.

• Nezuko used to have a classmate in her class. From the Zenin clan. When he noticed the preferential treatment the girl was receiving, he had no better idea than to say that it was because she was doing them “favors.”

• Satoru heard this from the other side of the court, and in less than a second he broke the boy's jaw. He did not return to the academy.

• Although it was the only time they were violent in front of the children, they know for sure that it is not the only time they have done something like that for them.

• There was a time when, when the children were teenagers, the higher ranks were discussing whether to keep custody of Shoko or give it to one of the clans that had already requested it.

• They didn't want children, they wanted possible weapons. An image, a toy.

• They informed Nezuko and Tanjiro that they would have to prepare for when the elders made their decision in case it was not the one they wanted.

• And both sibilings returned home, crying.

• Shoko was out all night. Even if she left them dinner, it only made the desperation level increase.

• Until the next morning came, Shoko come home, with bruises on her face, bloody knuckles, and a satisfied smile on her face.

• Nezuko hurried for the first aid kit while Tanjiro frantically asked her what happened.

• But Shoko only said a few words when Nezuko was applying bandages.

• “Do you know that I will always protect you?”

• Tanjiro was…confused.

• But Ieri just gave him a ruffle, happy that he knew.

• Tanjiro and Nezuko didn't really know what to think of their family.

• On the one hand, they knew very well that what they did was bad, it was not right for them to hurt people, no matter what.

• But on the other hand… did they find themselves justifying them?

• A part of them wanted to believe that this was normal, that this is what you do when you really love someone, you protect them, defend them, you love them.

• After all, who else has looked out for them other than Shoko, Gojo and Geto?

• Who has told them bedtime stories? Who makes sure there are no curses under the furniture? Who makes their food? Who loves them unconditionally even when they themselves might be horrible people?

• They. Shoko, Satoru and Suguru.

��� Nobody else. The rest are gone, left or betrayed.

• Tanjiro was tired of feeling guilty about it, of feeling guilty about finally having a family again, a familiar feeling, a home.

• You can't expect them to not sincerely love these people.

• They cannot expect him to harm these people. He won't allow it, nor will Nezuko.

• They are older, they have the resources and the power necessary to be able to take what they want, and if someone, anyone, gets in the way of what makes them happy...

• They will have to pay the price.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[beddybites]

I agree with that infantilization thing 100%. The Fandom's weird obsession with woobiefying Giyuu always kinda ticked me off. I'm a hardcore Shinobu ride-or-die, but their relationship is clearly of two very close friends, and Shinobu (mostly in the LN's admittedly, and Giyuu Gaiden) does stick her neck out for him a LOT. I don't know what kind of mother these people had if they think Shinobu is in any way a motherly figure for Giyuu - ah yes the classic motherly strat of being an obnoxious asshole to get under your sons skin because it's funni to see him squirm. If anything I think their relationship is anything BUT maternal. They banter, they shoot jabs at each other - it has to be cathartic for both of them in a way, and I think boiling that down to "omg she's so MOTHER to him!!!" is reductive, misogynist, and boring - and a complete misread of the dynamic. Like you can care about someone and stick your neck out for them without being maternal; it's called being friends with someone. And also their banter is spicy - like if someone views Shinobu as a motherly figure to Giyuu - what kind of FRICKIN' MOTHER TELLS THEIR KID NOBODY LIKES THEM HELLO?!?!?!? It also kind of robs Shinobu of one of the few relationships she's got where she can really let the mask slip, which oh my god girlie needs it for real. Don't let anyone get under your skin when you're 100% correct.

i honestly dont know what else to add to this, i feel like you NAILED it!!! tagging the hell out of this so people see this

thank you for your service as a shinobu ride or die. i imagine ur in the trenches constantly. i salute u

[lov3-from-loserlane]

Thank you for giving us cringe MCs, I fear too many people focus on the angst forgetting is...well... teenagers lmao. Not that what Qiu and Tama are going through isn't valid but is like they're dealing with very normal teen emotions in a very teen manner and, it is kinda cringe because 14 year olds are cringe. Am I making sense in this ? I fear I'm not lmao but anyways

thank you for delivering 🙏, I need more cringe olnf posts in my life

You are making so much sense, don’t even worry about it.

And THANK YOU ^_^

jeez you guyzzzz, you have got to stop being so nice to me or I fear it will go straight to my head 🤭

But I mean yeah, it’s kind of cathartic in a way? Not to sound pretentious about my method of enjoying this visual novel in my head or anything, how could I ever hahahha. Me? Pretentious???

But yeah, I mean I lived this life. OLNF is very relatable to me, so now that I’m older and can look upon my incredibly embarrassing 14-year-old experience more fondly, I love incorporating that kinda stuff into what I do. It’s just a lot of fun. And I mean, I’m fr just scratching the surface here with that one post in full honesty, I plan to make even more silly artwork on the subject 😼 I have like a note where I brainstorm stuff for when I get more time and it’s constantly growing. (It gets worse). (I reread my diary from when I was 13-15 😬)

But I mean, I can’t say I don’t also have my mind on the angst. Just so far only privately and in DMs for those who have asked. But it’s like you said, what Qiu and Tamarack are going through is so valid but so quintessential to the early teen experience, so it is inherently kind of cringe. But in a really good and real way and I love it for that. So, I’d like to at some point tackle the part of the venn diagram where “angst” and “cringe” meet.

I dunno, I’d definitely like to write a fic at some point too ^_^ I used to write them all the time when I was, get this, ✨14 years old✨ but I haven’t really completed one since 2019.

But as if I haven’t said enough already, thanks again 😌💗 it really means a lot to me, all you guys in the our life fandom are so so awesome!! Truly, it’s outstanding. I love being part of this community <3

[snowshinobi]

💖❤️✨🔪🫀🌲🔥

@snowshinobi Hiiiii :3 I'm responding to your tags on a new post and not the original since the original was already somewhat lengthy, and I plan on being LONG and RAMBLY, but I have sooo many thoughts on what you said and I'm going to say them. Also my browser crashed TWICE (TWO TIMES. 2) when trying to write this post so I'm really fighting for my life out here to get my silly little OC posts done. Also it's under the cut because it's looooong as hell LMAO

Firstly, you're so nice to me forever <3 Secondly, I think you've basically hit the nail on the head. The majority of the issues Maggie has coming back from death and her 9 years gone are really tied almost exclusively to her close family, because she... never really had anyone else. While in-universe it's only 9 years, realistically the jump in technology and culture is around ~20-30 years (Maggie died in the 90s/early 2000s essentially, and wakes up in a just barely futuristic city), but... the most jarring thing to her in terms of what she missed out on is just. Flipphones are no longer popular. Other than her family, she's only close with one other person... who just so happens to be a ghost, and therefore both 1. Wouldn't change much over the timespan due to how long she's been a ghost and 2. Unlike her family, was aware that something happened, since she could see the ghost-of-a-ghost Maggie left behind (The ghosts name is Opal, she positions herself as a sort of "guardian angel" figure, though she's not actually, and serves as just another parental figure for Maggie while also getting after the ghosts that constantly harass her to pass on messages to the living). Maggie has no real relationships outside of her family, and while her relationships with her family are massively impacted by her unknowing death, other than that... the timeskip itself doesn't weigh on her because she had no one regardless. Her struggle to adjust to everything thats happened would've happened regardless of the timeskip for her, because she was such an isolated shut-in that it's the same whether it happened the next day, or nearly a full decade later

So another very interesting thing is that you've actually completely seen where I was going with everything, in spite of everything I said being very surface level and not actually delving into the plot at all. I completely skimmed over Jenna (She's very important to the plot, but she's by in large a regular person as opposed to Maggie's... everything), but for some additional context, Jenna has a horrendously shitty homelife, so her moving in with Maggie is both a gradual process (It goes from spending time there, to spending nights, to eventually just never going back home and moving in fully), and also serves as an escape for her. Part of that is also, so vitally, the food aspect. For some additional additional context, souls essentially serve as a persons lifeforce, practically every bodily function is improved by a soul that's stronger, though the "strength" of a soul is essentially entirely random, and not dependent on the individuals actions of any kind. Maggie had a generally weird soul before (Seeing ghosts inherently means she has to have something going on with her soul), but when she wakes up after her death, her soul is now even weirder, and part of that is that it essentially lets her get away with bad habits she absolutely should be seeing more consequences for. She barely eats, and when she does, it's basically exclusively crackers and whatever other safe foods she has around the house, because actually making food is a level of care and effort she just... doesn't give to herself in the slightest. Part of Jenna staying with her is that Jenna, without really discussing it, entirely takes up the mantle of caretaker of the apartment, with the biggest task being food prep, Jenna sees Maggie's unwillingness to take care of herself and silently steps up and starts making her actual meals so she's eating properly.

The problem is is that this also kinda... just straight up sucks? Jenna doesn't think much of it, it's something that needed to be done so she's doing it, she wants Maggie to be well fed even if she won't do it herself, and she's already been responsible for making all of her own meals for years prior anyways, so it's just another thing she does. Except that's shitty! Maggie's seen firsthand how terrible her homelife is, and it really weighs on her how even in her escape from that, Jenna's still being put in a position where she feels like she must care for her or else she just won't eat properly. So food is such a massively important thing to both of them, it's this symbol of love for both of them, it's love on the part of Jenna, for stepping in and taking care of Maggie when she can't do it herself, and it's love on the part of Maggie, for realizing how her own bad habits impact the people she cares about and wanting to lift that weight by taking care of herself better. It's also very vital for Maggie because she just... doesn't... have hobbies. Learning how to cook becomes really her only hobby and she puts all of her love and care into it, because for the first time in a long while she's actually passionate about something! ...Unfortunately she also is very very bad at it. She's inventing new dishes like "Burnt Salad" and "Please Help I Fucked Up Kraft Mac N Cheese" and still having to have Jenna come in and help her. But it's the thought that counts, and it'll only be a matter of time before she can make something vaguely edible.

And finally, the stuff about names! I didn't post it here, but while idly talking about her in a Discord server I'm in, I definitely think that had I made Maggie like even a few months later than I would've done she would've been nonbinary. As it stands right now though, I'm saying she's probably some form of genderweird but too busy trying not to die to think about it <3 Growing up knowing that ghosts are real and routinely being shut down by authority figures in her life about it has made her very aware of how bullshit a lot of things are and how the people who claim to be knowledgeable tend to not know what they're talking about (Beyond just the "people don't think ghosts are real", she's also got ghosts willing to tell her when people are lying because they've got nothing better to do than just gossip) , so if she spent even just a moment thinking about gender as a social construct she'd instantly recognize that and probably take up some form of genderweird label, but as it stands she's just too stressed with Being The Protagonist to think about that

Now, the thing with Margaret. I'm not even going to lie to you, I think you made a better connection to how a name connects with community in terms of the narrative themes than I did. The thing with Margaret denying the name "Maggie" existed for two reasons, the in-universe explanation is that, with the little scrap of soul Margaret has leftover from Maggie, it's essentially working overtime just to keep her vitals working, it can't dedicate time and energy to making her an individual with preferences and a personality, so part of that is that she doesn't respond to "Maggie" because ultimately, that is not her name. Her name is Margaret and she's not going to respond to "Maggie" because "Maggie" isn't her name. Of course, out of universe the reasoning is that I wanted an easy way to distinguish between Maggie as she is the protagonist, and the version of her that lived in the years she was gone, so different names makes the most sense.

I think your connection to how name relates to community genuinely works on a level I hadn't fully pieced together myself yet and I really love that because I think that absolutely works with everything. One of the main conflicts of the plot is how Maggie is entirely disconnected from her family thanks to the years she was gone, with Margaret having no priorities beyond "survive", she basically never spoke with her parents or brother for years. While her family tried to reach out to her repeatedly (Especially given that, while they're unaware the truth of what happened the night Maggie was murdered, they do know something happened, and they believe that whatever it was severely traumatized her, and that's where the sudden and drastic shift in personality came from), there's a point where they just... gave up. She wasn't trying to talk with them or contact them in the slightest, so around a year or two after Margaret moved out, her parents gave up on her. Her brother would still be there a bit, but he also didn't really... try... anymore.

When Maggie wakes up, she tries to call her parents... and they don't pick up. They'd grown resentful over the years, and now that Maggie wants to talk to them, they don't forgive her for the years of not speaking to them, and aren't interested in whatever she has to say after nearly a decade of trying to reconnect with her and being met with nothing. It's her insistence that she wants to be called Maggie that actually gets her brother to realize she's telling the truth and that something happened. She shows up at his door, already something that Margaret wouldn't have done, and that combined with her being visibly upset when he calls her Margaret and tells him that's not her and that she's Maggie, it signals to him that whatever's going on is real (...though he would've figured this out eventually, given that she also literally 17 again and not in her mid-20s, and has a giant glowing stab wound in her chest). I think it works absolutely perfectly as being a symbol of community, her disconnect from her community is what led to her being called Margaret, and her desperation to be returned to that community is when she's Maggie again. So uh. Congrats on getting the themes of my OCs better than I did <3

And uhhhh closing thoughts! I honestly did still skim over the majority of the plot (Literally never even mentioned Eli or what's going on with her stab wound </3), but I think you reeeeally hit the nail on the head with everything I'm kinda getting at with these OCs, which is... frankly wild given how little main plot I actually got at. Basically everything I mentioned in my original post was the setup, not the main plot. But waaaaugh thank you for being so niceys to me and also giving me another excuse to ramble endlessly <3

[adoriels-tears-if]

I LOVE the new content, but OMG. Are you making us choose between saving all the other familiars and Big Kitty? And Plushie, but I'm sooo sorry, but you're gonna be left behind, if it saves lives. Sadly. Or can we have it all? Who knows. I just can't leave Sirius behind, but if it means we loose the time needed to save all the others? -... Hard choices for the first time in this game with REALLY possibly heartwrenching consequences. I'm kinda scared, but ... I believe in you, author. I do. Really. Probably. You're too good at writing angst, actually. Thank you for writing and sharing, even if it was a little before you were ready, it was a great cathartic read so far and poor Mickhail is always at the beck and call of our family one way or another. Now even Telio will veto him...

Spoiler about the last update.

Mickhail couldn't care less! He wants to be closer to Elianna and the others. The fact that he also has a crush on Cecily adds to his desire. And then there's Telio and he wants the best for himself, a family, a place to live, a home!

I hope the demo wasn't too angsty! With what happened to Telio and Uilan...

But yes, choices will have to be made but don't worry, Sirius is not in mortal danger, otherwise, Ashlyen would die and I wouldn't be able to write the meeting between him and Mc in the future, and I want to! A wound on the other hand…

Plushie is the most at risk.

[thatanimewriter]

COWARD.

➳ request: How would Coco and team JNPR react to their mega intimidating and stronger then strong Male S/O, saving Velvet from Cardin's bullying, by comin' out the wood works, and just punching the absolute SOUL outta Cardin like bro's on his knees, holdin' his stomach, eyes wide, struggling to breath and all that, meanwhile the rest of his team are just trying to jump S/O but are failing MISERABLY, like it's watching 3 4-year olds tryin' to jump prime Mike Tyson, and for reference on what S/O looks like, look up Fredrick Jason the boxer manwha in images, pls and thank you :)

➳ character/s: jaune arc, nora valkyrie, pyrrha nikos, lie ren

➳ warnings: mentions of bullying, violence, swearing, mentions of thirsty people (pyrrha)

➳ notes: i don't write for coco, but i can do jnpr :))

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐉𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂.

cheering you from the sidelines because he has tried standing up to cardin before and it went horribly

is probably mildly embarrassed that he's tiny compared to you, but is very much happy that cardin is ALSO tiny compared to you

got slightly worried when the rest of cardin's team tried to gang up on you

but you just waved jaune away with a lil flirty wink and dealt with the issue very chill

jaune was very hot and bothered after cause he couldn't lie, it was kinda attractive-

but afterwards he's so asking you for training sessions so he can get buff like you

he probably recorded the altercation on his scroll just for later entertainment

it was already put on the internet very soon after, if not livestreamed by someone else in the crowd

── 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐄.

she would've joined you if it weren't for ren letting you handle it by yourself

he wants her to preserve some level of her reputation and let you uphold your own as you basically hold cardin away from you with a hand to his forehead

you're clearly not invested in this fight, cause you look very bored this whole time

but you'll let her hit them with her hammer at least once, followed by a hair ruffle and a "that's my girl"

is very proud of you because if you didn't do anything about the bullies, then she would've

laughed her little ass off when the rest of the gang tried to jump you and you didn't have any difficulty

she took a selfie of you guys and the bullies on the floor n you're just smiling with a peace sign

still her favourite photo to this day and she talks about it all the time

── 𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐑𝐇𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐒.

very much concerned for how often you might be getting into fights with cardin

but also not that mad because even though she probably doesn't wanna get involved, she'll let you have your fun

you're both such a power couple now because BOTH of you have fought cardin's whole team 1v4 and won

will stand back and watch you as if she doesn't want you to be fighting bullies in the courtyard

but she's proud on the inside and will treat you for dinner later when you win

not super happy that randos on the internet are kinda thirsty for you though

but maybe she'll jump in next time if there is one just so people can back off

and also because she thinks it's probably super cathartic-

── 𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐍.

also doesn't join in, but he won't make any moves to stop you from doing what you gotta do

he's been watching cardin be a bully for a while and is happy with the karma he's getting from you

very much annoyed by the rest of the team trying to get the upper hand, because he's trained with you and failed to do so-

a rare smile on his face when you beat them all to a pulp and will make you pancakes in the morning

special treat for delivering some well-deserved justice for the students

generally discourages you from engaging in petty school fights though, because he'd rather you save your energy

and not use it on useless people who will end up in the dumps on their own anyway

but if it's warranted, then he'll support you from the shadows :))