#and 21+ for friends so we could go out anywhere if we wanted to

[artemismatchalatte]

Okay so I am trying this new dating/friend finding app as a newly minted lesbian with more ideas than experiences.

What bothers me about this app though is that you can't really age restrict or restrict by anything else- SO EVERYONE on the App sees your posts always. I'm a lesbian but do not know why they keep showing me tons and tons of people that would not date a lesbian.

They kind of threw all the lgbt people into a bucket and were like "but you'd date any other lgbt person RIGHT?"

[on-leatheredwings]

Second Chances 18+

Yandere! Older! Damian Wayne / AFAB Reader

> romantic, 18+ > tw/cw: dub-con, manipulation into sex, gaslighting(?) > request: Can we get damian gaslighting and manipulating a fem reader into sex when she tries to leave him please :? Like the typical "we've never talked about (insert issue) you know I wouldn't keep doing it if I knew it was upsetting you" and "let me make it up to you" > a/n: this reader is captain fix-a-hoe i can't > word count: 2187 > damian wayne is 21

You crane your neck away, but he takes it as an invitation. 

“Damian, I…��� you struggle. 

His hands slide forward underneath your arms, kneading your chest. It does feel good, you regret to admit. 

“Okay, okay,” you sigh, trying to inch away but his hands drag you back once more. Not by force, just by suggestion. By pulling the invisible strings that play your body like a fiddle, and it seems this morning Damian wants it to play his favorite song. You shrugged on your flimsiest robe on your way out of bed this morning, and nothing else. So here you were, paying the consequences. 

“Mm, maybe later, Damian. I have–” you gasp at a wandering digit “–to run errands today.”

You hear a huff, feel an exhale hit the shell of your ear.

“Errands? Where? With who?” 

The questions, absolutely dripping with disdain and suspicion, make something in you snap. 

“Oh, that’s it– I want to break up!” you cry out, throwing your hands up. You bound out of his hold, whirling around.  

Damian flinches backward as if struck. He had snuck up behind you in the kitchen, peppering kisses along the column of your neck. A sweet gesture, but too little, too late. Fuck waiting until you were better prepared – better scripted – to break up with Damian. You just can’t take it anymore. 

Damian stares at you in disbelief.

“You... What?”

You sigh, annoyed at the squeeze of your heart at his dismayed expression. Life as Damian’s girlfriend had been great at first. Like, really great. 

Despite his surly exterior and sharp tongue, Damian proved to be nothing less than devoted, adoring, and awfully caring. He was giving and generous. During dates and every minute besides, he was a perfect gentleman. None of your exes had ever opened doors for you. Or pulled your chairs out. Or guided you gently through a crowd of paparazzi with a protective hand on the small of your back. 

Maybe it was his unique rich kid training that made him the perfect lover for you: the presence of a British butler in his developmental years paired with the strict assassin upbringing. Or maybe, as your friends claimed, you simply had standards below sea level and were lucky enough to fall for a man who could throw money around without blinking. 

You didn’t listen to them, didn’t question your good fortune. You had been glad Damian was in your life. You had been.

“I want to break up,” you say, nearly a whimper. You look away from his shell shocked face. He must have seen this coming, right? How could he not see this coming? You two seemed to barely be getting along these days.

You recall green eyes narrowing after a glance over your outfit. “... I never liked her,” from a sneered lip, when you mention you’re going to your friend’s birthday party. The guilt tripping that occurred once you got home. The unsaid accusations of entirely untrue infidelity. You recall many more instances identical to that. How draining it all was. How you rarely seemed to go anywhere without hesitation, a niggling feeling bidding you to see how Damian felt about it first. 

Without missing a beat, Damian’s jaw hardens. He folds his arms. 

“You want to break up,” he responds in a clipped voice. “Why.” 

‘Why,’ he asks. Though it was hardly a question. He was demanding you answer for yourself. Answer for your crime of daring to maintain agency in your life. How dare you dump him? You narrow your eyes.

“You… you isolate me,” you say, folding your arms and mirroring his stance. You wish you could get angrier. Damian could really bitch out in an argument when he wanted to. Fights felt more balanced if you decided to get angry too. If you didn’t let him kick you around. But any lingering fury has simmered into hurt at this point. Decayed into you prematurely grieving a good thing gone bad. 

“You accuse me of things. You don’t trust me! Or worse, you do trust me, and still want to monopolize me because I’m something you own. I… That’s not good,” you blurt.

Damian isn’t moved. He taps his foot, and your eye twitches. “Is that all?” he says.

Perhaps you did have enough anger, after all. Before you can curse him out, Damian takes a step forward, like a piece on a chess board. 

“If I had known I would have stopped. Immediately,” Damian presses, not looking very apologetic or thoughtful. He instead looks determined. He seems entirely like his old self, at the very beginning of your then-tenuous friendship. That was three years ago, and you liked to believe he had grown a lot since. 

You roll your eyes. “Okay. Good to know,” you return flatly, unsure what he expects you to do with that information. 

Another step, and he grasps your arm. Had it been anyone besides him, you would’ve felt fear. But Damian – for all his faults – could never hurt you. Even if he already has, you think drily.

His grip trails down to your hand, and brings it to his chest, above his heart. Your own heart skips a beat at the gesture. “I would have. You’re everything to me.” His heart beats under your palm. It beats for you, he always liked to say.

You cringe. Not at his words, but because of how they’re said. Damian wields them like a weapon. And they’re effective. You already feel guilt begin to fester.

You swat your hand away, scoffing and shaking your head. “It feels like half of the time, you say that to make me feel like shit. It’s… it’s manipulative.”

“Manipulative? So every time I’ve said I… care for you, you felt manipulated?” He looks at you, in a pitiful expression crossed between crestfallen and offended. You sigh, exhausted. That’s not what I meant, you want to interject, but he continues. “I feel… very deeply. For you.” 

Even now, sharing his feelings was hard for him. You feel proud that he’s trying. You feel angry that he’s trying. You feel angry that you’re the bad guy. The croak in his voice makes you want to reach for him, but...

“Feelings… feelings aren’t enough,” you say mournfully. You hug yourself, because you need one. And giving one wasn’t his place anymore. 

You two stand in silence in his kitchen, which you’ve shared together for a year now. You glance around. You spy your colorful cooking sets, the couple's aprons that hang beside the pantry, the photos of you two at Wayne family holiday parties stuck to the fridge, and other paraphernalia.

You haven’t even left yet, but already you can see the ghost of you that will haunt this house. The hollow chill of guilt sweeps through your body, but you ignore it. You instead tread to one of the kitchen barstools under Damian’s watchful eye and settle on the seat.

“I’ll… I’ll stay at a friend’s,” you say, fighting admirably to keep your voice from cracking. “And I’ll have all my stuff packed within a week.” And you can keep the cat, you want to jest, but you luckily were born blessed with the skill of reading the room. Damian blanches, as if realizing, finally, what you were saying.

“You’re leaving.” God, his utter shock was not making things easier on you. 

“We fight all the time now, Damian,” you reason, almost pleading with him. Why was he making this so hard? The entire situation seems so … undignified. ‘Unlike him,’ is what most people would say. But no, this is entirely like Damian. Always deceptively more delicate than what meets the eye. Always trusting you to hold his heart gently. Not rend it to pieces. Guilt swirls once more, while Damian’s shock yields to insistence. 

“We fight because we’re in love,” he asserts, confessing. You are in awe of his cheeks flushing - what a pure display to be had during a break up. “People fight when they’re in love. Sometimes.” You frown, knowing he’s referring to his father’s failed relationships. What great role models, you scoff inwardly. You had zero desire to emulate that dysfunction.

“... Don’t you?” he says, a desperate lilt in his voice. You bristle. “... Love me?” And the way he says it breaks something in you.

You respond, the words like ash on your tongue, “Of course I... I do love you, Damian. But–”

“I love you, too,” he says quickly. “... so please, don’t leave.” You start to get up from your seat, unable to withstand anymore of this, when Damian falls to his knees in front of you.

You fill with mortification that Damian may start begging. And you don’t know if you can withstand that. He’s Damian Wayne. He who does not beg. 

“... Please,” he begins, as if the word was physically taxing. For him, it probably was. Damian bows his head, dots kisses on the expanse of your thighs. Each kiss is loosening your resolve. Each a balm over bitter wounds. 

“You haven’t given me a fair chance to correct myself. That… that’s not fair. That’s cruelty,” he whispers, along with other such mutterings that drive knives into your heart.

How heartless you were being. Were you going to give up on him so easily? Had he not shown he could change? The guilt swarms into an evil, dark monster. One you know you cannot defeat. You throw back your head, trembling from his butterfly kisses.

“Let me… let me make it up to you,” he says after he finds you writhing under his lips. You don’t know what to say, mesmerized by the need in his eyes and the promise in his words. “I can be better. I will be better.”

No, your mind begs you to say.

Yet looking into those green eyes, lost in its dark forest, you can’t deny him.

“... Okay,” you condone. Your okay is barely audible, weak and helpless like pollen in the wind. But it’s enough for him. It’s going to be enough for you, too. It’s okay. He’s going to change. He knows if he doesn’t, you’ll leave. You’ll leave.

You sate yourself with these thoughts, numb to Damian’s continued affection. You finally do realize he’s still licking at you, when a pair of hands gently separate your knees. 

“Damian!” you exclaim, snapping your knees shut. Your robe flutters with the action as you look at him with disbelief. “D-Damian,” you say. His eyes flutter open at the calling of his name. You sharply inhale at the lustful glaze over his pretty eyes. 

“Let me show you how deeply I feel for you,” he requests. 

But you know this is … strange. Maybe even wrong, if the uncertainty in your gut meant anything. You had just agreed to mend your relationship. You didn’t need the throes of an orgasm to complicate and muddle your feelings.

“... Please.” His voice mutters into your thigh. You’re so close you feel the vibration of the sound, and your skin prickles over with goosebumps. That’s the third ‘please’ he’s said within the hour. It's usually three a day. “Unless," Damian says, brows pinched, "you do not want me anymore.” The look on his face makes you feel sick. 

You don’t know how you can ever leave him in good conscience. Damian’s grown, yes, but he’s still that confused, frustrated boy from when you met. Still searching for acceptance and belonging.

“Yes,” you blurt. “I want you, but–”

“Then, ‘but’ nothing. You are mine.” You fill with heat, from irritation as well as arousal. It’s not as though you’d stopped being attracted to him, after all.

“I–” am not yours, you begin to combat, when Damian licks a hot stripe up your cunt that makes your mind blue screen. 

“And of course, it goes back the same way. I am yours.”

Damian lowers his head, wasting no time in suckling on your clitoris. He knows exactly how you like it, after all. Your hands leave your side and find his hair. You pull on short raven locks, enough that it’s probably painful, but Damian doesn’t protest. 

Damian hikes your legs onto his shoulders, and he’s off to work as if you hadn’t been about to break up with him just ten minutes ago. You feel whiplash. It’s all back to normal. You’re together. He’s between your legs. And despite his administrations feeling great, amazing – it also somehow feels like punishment. 

He may need you, but you need him as well. Only he can make you feel like this. Only he has ever made you feel like this. The heavy tongue that’s probing into you, the hands whose thumbs draw circles on your skin – they’re his. The pressure building in your body, the pleasure being wrought from you – he causes it. The devotion, safety, security and love you have in your life – it’s due to him. 

When you eventually finish in his mouth, you come with a whimper, eagerly being lapped up by the boy before you. He's right. You do belong to him.

And a growing part of your mind is having a hard time finding that so wrong.

[m-ayo-o]

again

18+ dry humping // oral // 21+ Ichigo wc 1500 selfshiptember; 30 yes yes yessss pool time fun [we didn't make it to the pool] look at himm, i want him to bite meeee

Thanks to your best friend, you’ve finished setting up for the pool party you’re hosting for your university friends super early. You give him a sweet smile and tug on his hand, pulling him down to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Ichigo,” you watch the red blush travel up his face, “you’re a lifesaver.”

He stumbles and trips over his words, filling you with the desire to taunt him some more.

“Ichigo,” you know he can’t stand it when you say his name like that, “I’m gonna get changed.”

You tug on his shirt, signaling for him to follow you.

And he lets you pull him up to your room, that’s filled with all your pretty clothes, your smell… your bed.

Oh, if only he knew the things you’ve done on that bed. All of your countless nights fingering yourself stupid, panting and moaning and wishing there was something (someone) bigger to fill you.

“Ichigo,” you love his name so much, you can’t not say it, “will you help me choose my outfit... please?”

His jaw visibly clenches, wondering why on Earth you think he’d give a shit about your outfit.

He couldn’t care less about the scraps of material covering your body. He’d much prefer to see his pretty friend stripped bare and covered in his cum.

But he’s not exactly prepared to say that right now.

So he nods and sits on your bed instead.

You pick out a tantalising array of swimsuits and start to undress to try on the first set.

Ichigo is unable to look away while you strip off your top.

After seeing you do this a few times before, you think he’d be used to it. But he is never going to get used to seeing your body.

His saliva feels thick under his tongue, he can hear his pulse pounding in his ears, drumming louder and louder as he watches you emerge from your t-shirt, hair ruffled and chest on display in your cute bra.

He swallows hard while his gaze falters and shifts, feeling as though he shouldn’t be watching you.

He gets all uncomfortable, trying to shift and rearrange the hefty swell in his shorts, until you step closer and take his jaw in your hand.

“Ichigo,” there it is again, those three syllables bringing you such joy, whereas they only seem to worsen his condition, “you know it’s ok… for you to see me like this.”

His eyes are trained on yours, afraid to look anywhere else.

“We’re friends, aren’t we Ichi?”

He sighs through his nose, impatience brimming in his chest. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take.

“Of course.” He replies tersely, “But I shouldn’t–” his amber eyes flit around, desperately trying to avoid your gaze.

But you keep your hand firmly on his chin, tilting his face up to study every detail, every weakness.

You pull away with a giggle, satisfied with his irritated expression.

You turn and pull your bra off, earning a chastising shout of your name as he finally gives in and turns away, burying his face in your duvets.

That doesn’t exactly help, considering they smell so strongly of you.

“Ichigo,” you tease him again, “I’m done!”

He faces you, finding your somewhat modest t-shirt and shorts to be replaced by two tiny triangles of material over your tits, one over your crotch, and you turn to show him the back, and–

“y/n” it was nothing short of a moan. He knows what he sounded like.

Yet you turn to him and continue this game like he’s not about to bust through his pants.

“Mhm? What is it?”

You twirl around and admire yourself in the mirror, toying with your hair and adjusting the stringy straps of your top, making your boobs jiggle.

“Do you like this one?”

You approach him again, this time edging closer as you watch him swallow another thick load of spit.

If only you could get his mouth open… you could see just how wet he is in there.

You prod his chest, encouraging him to speak up.

He looks up at you with such a strained, pretty face, then grits his teeth one more time and opens his mouth to speak, only for a few laboured pants come out. You should understand that he’s far past the point of talking by now.

But your teasing has only gone so far before tonight. Now things are getting a little out of hand even for you.

You slip a thumb over his bottom lip, spreading his mouth wider as you get a good look at the pools of saliva inside.

He goes to close his mouth again, but finds your fingers squeezing his face as you tut and shake your head.

His eyes dart around, not knowing what to do, his tongue twitching while that adorable embarrassment floods his cheeks.

You just hold his mouth open and watch him drool.

You watch that slick, clear liquid spill from his lips, dripping down either side of his mouth.

And you bend down to his face, his neck craned up to you, and you lick his chin.

“y/n…” it comes out shakier this time.

He tastes like pure lust. You need more.

Your tongue finds his lips, your hand stroking up and through his hair.

He pants into your mouth as you lick and taste him slowly, until you finally feel his body giving in to yours.

His strong hands find your waist and pull you on top of him. Now he’s got you in his lap, he squeezes your nape and starts tonguing you back.

He moves agonisingly slowly, holding you too gently as he desperately fights his desire to ruin you. 

“Ichigo,” you pull away from your messy, wet kiss, “you know I want you, right?”

He nods gingerly.

“Want you to touch me,” you squirm on his thighs, eagerly seeking friction from his long, hard boner, “need you”

He swears he’s gonna get a nosebleed and go braindead in seconds if you keep this up.

He shakes his head.

“I can’t…” he mutters against your lips while simultaneously grinding up into your heat. 

The disappointment that crosses your features kills him. But right now, he knows he wouldn’t last two seconds inside you. He couldn’t do that to you.

“But…” you whimper, begging him with your pretty eyes.

“Look at you,” he places his hands on you like you’re made of glass, “I can’t–” he repeats, biting his lip, hesitant to admit just how weak he is. How weak you’ve made him.

“But I need you so bad,” you’re almost crying, humping his thick, achy length.

“y/n, y/n, please, slow down– nnhh–” you’re getting carried away now, the sliding and poking of his erection over your clit and lips getting you off so good. You could just settle for cumming on him like this.

“Please let me– I, I just need to–” your cries are interrupted by a long groan from the man below you, his hips pumping hard into your soaked little bikini bottoms.

You feel something wetter, something thicker than your slick juices. You look down, watching him bump and thrust as white liquid trickles from his shorts, getting your crotch all messy and sticky.

The sight of him pent up and fucked out gets you endlessly wetter, your hips gyrating greedily until you find your release, coming down hard as you grip on his shoulders.

You whine and grind through your long orgasm, making him moan and wince with overstimulation until you slow down and eventually sit still on his lap, your chest heaving as he caresses your back.

But he knows what girls like you need, and he knows that you’re far from done.

So he slips you off his lap and lays you on your bed, standing and stripping off his soaked shorts.

He pulls you to perch on the edge of your bed as he kneels below you, tugging off your bikini bottoms. He takes your thighs in his hands and eases them apart to see the sloppy mess in between.

“Fuck… you got so fucking wet for me… and I couldn’t–” he sighs with disappointment. He didn’t particularly want your first time together to be so embarrassing.

Little does he know, him cumming like that makes you feel like a damn goddess... and so satisfied that you can bring someone as strong as him to his knees with a bit of dry humping.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I couldn’t do it right,” frustration crosses his handsome face again, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He speaks with such sincerity then slides his tongue into you, dipping and licking and swirling till you’re all lightheaded.

Once he’s satisfied with your overflowing pleasure, feeling it drip down his chin and neck, he stands and looks over your body again.

His fiery eyes blaze over the soft mounds of your tits and down your figure, the mess between your legs making his cock swell again.

And you watch him grow and throb as his eyes fix on your tight, leaky hole.

Your eyes are glued to his erection that’s straining hard and angry again, until he speaks, “I want to–” he gives his cock a few lazy tugs, “I want to show you… how good I can make you feel.”

selfshiptember 30!!!!! omg ^-^ likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! <3

[bbybaku]

hii! could we get some dabi/touya college boyfriend nsfw and sfw headcanons? thank uu

yall are gonna have to hear me the fuck out on this one okay

the 18+ part is below the cut 🫡

also sorry this took me like 9 months to write lmao

sfw

i think you and touya would be in the same big friend group that likes to drink and party together

okay so touya started off in the dorms of your big ass university as an engineering major and very quickly realized he didn't really fw it

butttttt he did fw the night scene

and his rich father paying him to be there

so touya barely passes freshman year

transfers to the community college down the road

moves into a party house w his boyz

i feel like he would either be like a blue-collar construction worker or a bar back until he's 21 when he can be a bartender

he's kind of a dick but he's also friends w everyone?

he likes fat girls

especially bipoc thic girls

like homeboy likes tits and ass and is not picky

i feel like he's a bit of a dick in an endearing way

like he's a college aged man and he's a lil selfish but you know he doesn't mean it

prob not the best bf all the time

he means well

hes a retired player who met you and is now obsessed with you and only you

yall are also lowkey on and off

but you’re working on it!!

that being said I'm sure he would be nice to you and care about you but he def has issues that he is not addressing

back to our party boy

he would order pizza for the after-party

always hosts the pregame

and the party lol

goes to the clubs !!

occasionally gets drunk and gets in fights (its hot af)

he would be generous w the ~party favors~ if you know what i mean

*wipes nose*

*cough cough*

has probably tried every drug under the sun at least once

so maybe not the best memory lol

like not a bad guy

but probably not the best

always has cigarettes

probably a Marlboro guy

or American spirits

always wearing all-black or all-dark colors

always smells really good

his room is actually really nice like he has a big bed and mood lights and some crystals

goes to the gym often but has a sleeper build

so looks scrawny but has some muscle when he takes his shirt off

prob has a stupid tattoo somewhere

like a cool one on his lower stomach

but also has a tramp stamp of a heart with wings

always has like an ocean sented canlde burning in his bedroom

has the most beautiful fluffy hair that he puts such little effort into

almost always has a 5 o'clock shadow

like does not shave his face consistently enough but he is hot so its okay

he likes to sit with his head between your legs

yall watch movies together often

like actually watch movies

he has a silver nose ring

drives like a red mustang

is prob lowkey a car guy

is not on any social media but is always watching weird youtube videos and texting his siblings

i feel like it’s a fantasy of his to get into a fight for you

like he dreams of some guy trying shit with you only for him to step in at the perfect time and beat the shit out of him

he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you

but he would beat anyone who hurts you

nsfw

average size but a bit girthy

homeboy can fuck

like is experienced

he’s a retired whore

you are the reason he retired lol

can find the clit on anyone

you don't go home until you come at least once

quickies

all the time

anywhere you can think of

bathroom at parties

unfinished basements

empty classroom

storage closet

prob has a hand signal to you for if yall are out drinking in your group and he wants to fuck

this man oozes sex appeal

like you're not in the mood and then he's wearing all black and smells like that and suddenly you're ferral

real good at dirty talk

"behave"

"that's what I like to hear"

"have you always been this much of a slut?"

just to name a few

talks like that in and out of the bedroom

does not sext but will not hesitate to invite you over when he's horny

fucking in his room during a party

and then returning to the party

will buy you food after

fucks you to hip-hop

like good music

Red LED lights in his room

has a big ass mirror

doggy or pro bono in front of said mirror

*chefs kiss*

does not want kids so he always has a ton of condoms

he doesn't like hickies but loves when you scratch up his back

car sex

he likes to choke you

especially during makeouts

like will choke you more during a makeout than he will during sex

prob lowkey has a porn addiction so can get a little carried away sometimes

but will instantly stop if you say something or if he picks up on you like liking the vibe

he's loud as fuck during sex

like his roommates will pound on the walls

doesn't eat you out super often,, but when he does?

good god

amazing

prob will ask you to do some weird shit every now and then

like clown makeup

or to top him and call him weird names

you're normally down for it

its fun because he gets so into it

is pretty straightforward about what he wants

which is nice since you never have to guess

m.list

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting tubal ligation, eloping with my two girlfriends, adopting a cat and moving out, all in two weeks and without telling my mother?

🏥💍🐈🏠

So, I (F, 21) have been planning for a long time to sort out my life. I live in a European country, I'm in college and work part-time. For years, I've been saving up money to get financially independent as fast as possible and move out of my parents' apartment. I also wanted to have enough to pay for tubal ligation procedure, because I don't ever want children and would feel much more at ease when I'm certain that I can't physically get pregnant. My mother from the beginning was very against that idea, telling me I'll change my mind later and not to do anything permanent.

Two years ago, I've met two wonderful women, A (26) and K (23) on a discord server dedicated to our shared hobby (writing fanfiction). We'd been talking and messaging for months, eventually creating our own server and sharing our irl names and faces. It naturally progressed to a point where we chose to call it a relationship (I'm on the aroace spectrum, we're all neurodivergent and have a weird relationships with gender so it's not a traditional romantic/sexual relationship by any means). We're all from the same country so we met up a few times before deciding to all move to one city and live together. K and I are finishing our bachelor's degrees and A works from home so there weren't any obstacles. We found a flat and A moved in, waiting for me and K.

My mother knew I was bisexual and dating A and K, but thought again that it was "just a phase" and that we were only friends pretending to date for some reason. I love my parents, they are great and supportive people but sometimes it can be so exhausting to convince them of something when they believe they're absolutely right. So, I just stopped talking to my mother about my relationship and plans for the future. I visited A (and K after she moved in) in our apartment without permanently staying there yet.

A, K and I got an idea to celebrate us finishing college and A getting a job promotion by going abroad for a week. K jokingly suggested that we could visit another country and get married (gay marriage is still illegal in our country). Obviously, polyamorous marriages are not legal anywhere in Europe, but A told us at the beginning of our relationship that she never wanted to get legally married for personal reasons (but a non-binding marriage ceremony was fine with her). So, all three of us could have a ceremony and K and me could get legally married (the marriage still wouldn't be legally recognized in our country though). Then I also realized that I could get a tubal ligation in the country which we wanted to travel to (tubal ligation procedure is also illegal in our country).

I knew my mother would be against both of those decisions and I didn't want to argue with her the entire time before I left abroad. So, I just told her I'm going on holidays with my two friends for a week and she accepted that. I've also been slowly moving a lot of my stuff from my room in my parents' apartment to our apartment and was ready to completely relocate.

Anyway, the wedding went great (the witnesses were six people we knew from the discord server where we first met, who lived close by and could get to the wedding site easily), my operation went great, the trip was great, and just as we returned a friend asked if we wanted a kitten, because their cat had recently had some. We agreed.

When I was sure everything was settled, I called my mother and told her about the wedding, the operation, the move and the kitten. She was shocked and angry, said she felt disappointed and betrayed I hadn't told her about any of my plans, didn't even invite her to the wedding and that I damaged my body and would regret having my tubes tied. I tried explaining that I didn't know how she would react, that based on our previous interactions I hadn't thought she'd be supportive and that I wanted make my decisions without also having endure her disapproval. She cried, told me I hurt her and to give her some time to deal with all the revelations.

I feel terrible for upsetting my mom, but honestly, I think I did the right thing and that informing her beforehand would've ruined my mood and I'd have had to argue with her on the phone constantly during the trip.

So, Tumblr, AITA?

[fatkish]

I was wondering if I could get Tenya with a friend reader that has verbally and physically abusive parents (and if it could end with him helping reader leave, that would be great!)? Thank you for considering!

Tenya Iida x Reader Drabble

Your parents weren’t the best. They are physically and verbally abusive towards you. You have a mutant quirk that gives you dragonfly wings, pointed ears compound eyes similar to that of an insect and a lizard like tail. You’re able to breath fire and are impervious to flames. But your parents aren’t mutants so they think certain aspects of your appearance are ugly, even though you’re covered in iridescent, shiny (f/c) scales.

You are a student of class 1A and are in seat 21 and are ranked 7/21 academically. Quirk-wise, you’re ranked 10/21 for your overall quirk performance in Aizawa quirk apprehension test. You were transferred to UA due to your parents insistence, your teachers at your previous school knew about your parents treatment of you and tried to help you but they failed. When they sent over your student transcripts, they alerted UA about it secretly, needless to say, UA accepted you after seeing how well you used your quirk and the fact that you were among the recommended students.

It was a weekend day when you unintentionally met Iida. You and Iida had become friends over the early school year and became study buddies. You had been out getting groceries after studying at the library and were running late getting home that afternoon when you ran across Iida. Being the responsible young man that he is, he insisted he help you with your errands and to avoid suspicion, you agreed to let him help.

You both had finished your shopping and were headed towards your house. You tried to insist that you didn’t need any help bringing everything in but he persisted. So you unlocked your front door and let the two of you in. You both walked into the kitchen and you began to put the groceries away with Iida’s help. You had been putting the vegetables away when your mother walked in and eyed Iida.

“(Y/n), who is this? I don’t recall saying you could bring anyone over.” Your mother chided in a sugary sweet tone that you knew meant you were in trouble.

“Ah! Hello, my name is Tenya Iida and I humbly apologize for entering your house unexpectedly, I merely wanted to assist my friend (y/n) with their chores since we happened to meet at the store. Please accept my most sincere apologies” Iida deeply bowed as he spoke to your mother.

Unknown to Iida, your mother was the worse of your parents and would never pass up a chance to ridicule you. Knowing that nothing good could come from this interaction, you kept your head down as your mother invited Tenya to stay for dinner. As your mother talked to Iida in the living room, you were stuck in the kitchen making dinner, which consisted of chicken Katsu curry, sesame spinach salad and miso soup. For dessert you made Sakura rice cakes and Sakura mochi.

It was 5:00 pm when your dad got home and you had just finished making dinner when you mom walked in with Iida and your father. After greeting your father, Tenya and your parents sit down for dinner while you serve everyone. Iida can somewhat sense the tension but he doesn’t know what the reason for it is. As you sit down and you all begin to eat your mother begins to talk.

“So Iida dear, I hear you go to school at UA, how is it?”

“Well, the teachers are among Japan’s finest and we learn very valuable lessons from them.”

“You seem like a very smart and accomplished young man”

“Why thank you Mrs. (l/n)

“It’s too bad our (y/n) can’t be more like you. I mean, they can cook well at least, but that’s not enough to get them anywhere. I just fear for their future ya know, with the way they look, it’s not like anyone is going to be attracted to them. Our little (y/n) will be alone for their entire life”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it’s right for you to say such things about (y/n), they’re incredibly smart and talented and are one of the top students in our class. I don’t think there’s any need to fear for their future”

Iida tried to reason and defend you but your mother persisted with her cruel words. You tried to get Iida to stop but he continued to defend you. After a few more harsh words left your mother’s lips, Iida had had enough.

“I think it’s time I went home, thank you for your hospitality. It is late and I should be heading home.” You had walked Iida to your door and that was when you both heard your mother call you a freak. You hung your head as you said goodbye to Iida. As he left you went back inside and closed the front door only to be smacked across the face by your mother.

Your mother began to berate you and scold you for inviting a ‘friend’ over. She continued to hit you as you just let her hit you, knowing that fighting back would only make it worse. It was when she used her heat quirk to burn you that the front door opened and Iida pushed your mother back. He quickly had you gather your things as he called the police on your mother for abuse.

When the police came and arrested your mother, Iida offered for you to come and stay with him and his family. You tried to deny his offer but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He brought you to his house, which was huge by the way, and explained to his mother what had happened and that you needed a place to stay. When his mother heard what your mother did to you she told you to stay as long as you needed.

His family was so kind and you got to meet his older brother Tensei. His family welcomed you and treated you nicely and it made you realize how much better things could be. Eventually Iida’s family became your found family and you loved having dinner with them. Your parents had lost custody of you and the Iida’s happily adopted you and you officially became part of the family.

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (1)

prologue

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: take a shot every time Abby experiences ~gay~

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It all had started when Abby’s nice, perfect, amazing roommate decided to get married at the ripe age of 21 - which Abby didn’t understand at all, but she got invited to the wedding, so she kept her mouth shut about it. Except the marriage meant that her nice, perfect, amazing roommate would move out and go live her dream life with her sweetheart. And although the money wasn’t really a problem - Abby’s dad was a neurosurgeon, which meant he was loaded and Abby didn’t have to worry about anything financially - Abby really didn’t want to bother her dad and spend his money on the whole apartment when she could find a roommate. 

That was how Abby ended up with you as her new nice, perfect, amazing roommate. She didn't even care that the first thing you said to her was that you were a lesbian - which she didn't mind at all, 70 percent of her teammates were not straight, she was used to it, even though she was straight. But after Abby gave herself time to think about it, she understood why you said it right away - not all people were nice, and not all people were okay with living with someone who potentially could be attracted to them. 

Abby was absolutely cool with it.

What she actually cared about was if you left your dishes in the sink, and you didn’t. 

The first week living together was what Abby expected it to be: you both were getting used to your respective schedules, your habits and pet peeves, not talking much - Abby wasn’t sure if you even wanted to be her friend or you’d prefer to just stay as roommates who saw each other twice a day for five minutes. The most you spoke to her was to ask where something was or if it was okay to use something and where you could put all your things. 

Abby thought you were chill and confident with the way you carried yourself - it reminded her of some of her teammates, who were confident in a way girls were not expected to be confident. More like dominant? And they had nothing in common with you. Well, except for the gay thing. Abby wasn’t sure if there was a correlation. 

You both weren't at home a lot, but usually when Abby'd get from practice you'd be already at home and just out of the shower. Abby felt a little awkward when she saw you in a short towel and she tried not to look at you or anywhere dangerous. You didn't seem to notice how she only looked into your eyes when you walked from the bathroom to your room, water running down your neck and your thighs as you said your hellos. Abby didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, because she showered with 20 girls on regular basis and it didn’t make sense that she felt the need to look away from you, but who had time to reflect on it? Not Abby.

Abby would hit the shower next and come back to the smell of food in the kitchen - you told her on the first night that you didn't mind sharing your food with her or even cooking for both of you, and Abby quickly agreed to your offer. 

That was a first ritual you two established: Abby'd come home, take a shower and then hang out with you in the kitchen while you were cooking dinner. Today you looked a little tired, and Abby got it - it was Friday and the whole week was hard for both of you with getting back into studying mode. 

“How are you on this god-awful day?” You asked Abby with a small smile while you fried something on the pan. 

“Happy it’s the end of the week.” Abby sighed and leaned back on her chair, relaxing. “Profs are already talking about the finals, so annoying. We just had one class, calm the fuck down.” 

“Yeah. It’s bad for you med students.” You said with no actual compassion, but with a smile. “Sorry, I’m going to remind you that this misery is your choice every time when you’ll be on the brink of death during finals.”

Abby laughed at that.

“Unfortunately for you I’m not the one to complain about my choices.” Abby shot back and you laughed. 

“That’s admirable.” You nodded your head in theatrical appreciation. “Then you can make fun of me during finals because I will be complaining about every little thing. In a funny way, don’t worry.”

“Thanks for clarification.” Abby chuckled. 

“Do you want to watch something after we eat?” You asked casually and Abby felt her heart beating faster - you wanted to be friends with her after all!

"Yeah, sure."

You smiled at Abby and turned the stove off, taking the plates from the cabinet to put your food on. Abby was cool. She was sweet, a little of a scaredy cat with you - you didn’t think anything of it, you just met, maybe she was just awkward with new people. Abby looked confident with her friends and when you saw her in the corridors of your university Abby looked downright intimidating, tall and strong, commanding. At home though? She seemed shy. You supposed she'd get more assertive when she'd get comfortable with you, but even now she seemed like a genuinely cool person. 

You were still dealing with how attractive Abby was, your eyes always lingered on her shoulders and arms - you had a thing for athletes, what can you say - but you tried to suppress it as best as possible. The fact that Abby was so sweet around you didn't really help either, but what we can’t act upon makes us better at repressing, so that was what you were doing for the past week. The best strategy you had was to remind yourself Abby was straight, and it was working, especially if she gave you compliments the way only straight girls did, with this high tone at the end - if Abby wasn’t that buff she’d probably ask where did you get something just to finish you. Thank god you had a very different taste in clothes.

You finished your dinner making a small talk, still getting used to each other's mannerisms and sense of humour, with yours being more dark. Abby was surprisingly good at keeping up with you and not stuttering in shock when you’d say something awful, and it made you smile every time she'd make a comeback that was just as good. Again, it wasn't helping. 

"What do you want to watch?"

"I like horrors, actually." You said as you sat on the other side of the couch, keeping the distance. 

"Yeah, we can watch some horror." Abby shrugged as she sat down and gave you the blanket. "More cosy that way."

You smiled and put it over your lap.

Not. Fucking. Helping. 

Abby watched you getting comfortable and something filled her chest with pride, like providing comfort for you was something important to her. Well, Ellie always said Abby was a mom friend, and she was. She liked taking care of people around her, and now that you were her roommate she'd take care of you too. 

"Do you like horrors too or do you want me to hold your hand during scary moments?" You asked with a smirk, and Abby huffed. 

"Are you trying to trick me into holding your hand?" Abby smirked too, pleased with your little surprised reaction. 

"I'm more of a cuddler." You winked and Abby laughed. She liked how easy it was to banter with you even though you knew each other only for a week. "No, really, are you okay with horror? I don't want you to have nightmares after."

"I'm okay, don't worry." Abby murmured and gave you the remote. "I'm not a big fan, so you choose."

You shrugged and went through the list of horror movies while Abby got comfortable on the other end of the couch, leaning on the arm rest. It felt a little awkward, to be that far away from you - Abby was so used to always being close with her girl friends, but to be fair, you weren’t even friends yet. The movie you picked wasn’t a slasher (“i want to be scared, not grossed out”), but more of a psychological horror that actually made Abby uneasy. And then this movie had a fucking jumpscare that made you both jump and curse out loud. Abby let out a small chuckle and you shared a look between you, silently bonding over a scary feeling. 

“You sure you don’t want to hold my hand?” You teased and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but her heart was still beating too fast from the sudden scare. 

“I’m not a little bitch.” Abby said and smiled when you laughed. 

“Okay, big bad Abby.” You murmured and focused on the movie.

Even though the movie was unsettling, your little bitchy comments were making Abby laugh way more than feeling scared. 

"Do you really enjoy getting scared or are you just choosing something to complain about?" Abby asked with a smile. 

"Horror movies are like straight sex, you know. In theory you get scared shitless, in practice you complain about men not knowing how to scare you." You shrugged and Abby snorted, feeling like this was too real. "Sorry if I'm being crude, I got too comfortable for a second there."

Abby noticed your look, like you were trying to read her reaction if you crossed a line, but Abby only laughed. 

"Do I look like someone who can't take a sex joke?" Abby teased as she stood up, stretching. 

"Should I assume you're tough as fuck because you kick ass?"

"Yeah, you should." Abby murmured and looked in your eyes. There was a second of silence while you just stared back at her, surprised, and Abby felt something warm in her stomach. "Tea?"

"Yeah." 

After that movie night things got so much easier for both of you, and after three weeks of living together you already fell into the routine like you lived for three years already. You became friends very fast, quickly moving from spending evenings in your rooms to spending evenings hanging out in the living room together. It was like you just clicked in all the right places, balancing each other out, and you couldn’t feel more relieved. You were getting used to Abby and your first intense attraction finally ebbed away: you were not going to chase after a straight girl - you were not, in fact, an idiot. And you weren’t going to question her sexuality or try to “turn her gay”, because who were you to tell her who she was? Abby told her she was straight, and that was it. You still enjoyed looking at her and flirting with her, and Abby was an amazing person so it wasn’t hard to like her. But otherwise? Abby was an amazing roommate and even better friend. 

The end of September came around so quickly you didn’t even notice, too busy with classes and tutoring and maintaining some kind of social life, because Cait really needed someone to drag her out from the fucking library and ventilate her big brain. You admired her study habits, but sometimes she’d forget to sleep, and you had to kick her ass and make her take care of herself. That was the price of being friends with the smartest woman on campus.

It was again a Friday night when you cooked and Abby sat at the table while you chatted about your days and plans, now so much more comfortable with each other. You were right, Abby just needed to get used to you in order to stop being so shy and you basked in her confident personality now. 

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

“I don’t kno-o-w.” Abby sighed like tomorrow's plans were torturing her. “Ellie wants to go out, but I don’t know if I’m in the mood.”

“Well, I plan to go out too, actually. Maybe we can join forces?” You asked curiously. “I feel like Cait would enjoy Ellie’s company if she is the nerd you’re saying she is.”

“She is an embarrassment.” Abby shrugged and you laughed. “I’m still shocked how she has any game at all.”

“Listen. Is she hot?”

“I guess?”

“Then there you go. She has game because she is hot.”

“That’s kinda shallow.”

“Do you really need to get to know someone better to hook up?” You scrunched your nose in doubt. 

“I mean, some people do.” 

“Then it’s not a hookup anymore, no? I mean, if I just want to get some stress relief do I really have mental space to learn about someone’s political views?”

“So you’ve fucked republicans.” Abby nodded and you laughed. “That’s fucked up, (y/n).”

“You see, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Obviously you won’t miss the fact that they’re an asshole, so if it’s not the case, why not? Dating is a different story though.” 

“Yeah.” Abby nodded again. 

“So are we going out tomorrow?” 

“Well, when I’m attacked on two fronts I don’t feel like I have a choice.” Abby chuckled the way it made you hot, but yet again you pushed the stupid feeling down. 

Abby watched you cook as she was digesting what you’ve just discussed. It was the first time you acknowledged your sex life and Abby felt a little uneasy. Sex talk didn’t make her uncomfortable, and other people’s experience didn’t make her feel insecure, so she really couldn’t place why she felt just a little icky. Maybe your crudeness finally crossed her line? But Abby wasn’t sensitive to such topics, Ellie talked her ear off with her sex escapades, so why did she feel so strange? Her stomach growled and suddenly everything made sense: she was just in a low, sensitive mood because she was hungry and tired. 

And indeed her mood got better after she took the first fork filled with pasta and her stomach was now growling in happiness. 

“There’s a whole whale living in your stomach.” You smirked, but your stomach growled too and Abby snorted.

“Seems like you had one too.”

“Whale to whale communication.” You shrugged and Abby chuckled. “Have you ever listened to whale songs?”

“No. But I heard they’re supposed to help you relax.” 

“Well you’re listening to one now, so you tell me if you’re relaxed.”

“Oh I’m so relaxed I’d listen to the sound of not being hungry for hours.” Abby said and watched you roll your eyes fondly, because you looked so funny when you did it and Abby liked it. Abby’s phone buzzed with a notification and she unlocked it, but the clock caught her eye. “It’s almost 8, don’t you have a lesson?”

You looked up with saucers of the eyes and Abby laughed at how shocked and scared you got.

“Fuck!” You said with a mouth full of food as you jumped out of your chair while Abby laughed at you. “Fuck, how much time do I have?”

“Three minutes.”

“Shit. Fuck, can I ask you to sort this out?” You nodded at the food on the stove and at your plate. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine, don’t worry.” Abby said gently, trying to soothe you. “Go teach poor kids.”

You nodded and ran to your room to get yourself set up, and Abby finished her dinner while texting Ellie. 

from: els

soooo

are we going out tomorrow ?

to: els

you r so annoying 

but yes

(y/n) wants us to go together, she is going out with a friend too 

from: els

oooh

coooool

you mean I’ll meet the smart sexy lady you live with?

Abby rolled her eyes - she mentioned once that you were smart and she was learning some things from you and Ellie couldn’t leave her alone after that.

to: els

yeah 

but don’t be a dick to her

from: els

excuse me

I would never be a dick to a lady

to: els

you’re a dick to me all the time

from: els

who said you were a lady 

The audacity of this bitch, Abby thought as she sent Ellie a not so sweet sticker. She finished her dinner while bickering with Ellie and then tidied the kitchen. Your lessons were usually around an hour, so Abby didn’t need to hurry. She washed the dishes and put leftovers away. Abby thought it was so nice of you to cook for both of them, it was warming her heart - she didn’t like cooking, and having someone to take it off her was so amazing. God if you weren’t busy she’d hug you right now, she was so grateful.

But Abby settled for setting up her favourite part of Friday nights: beating your ass in Mortal Combat. What can she say, seeing you riled up but helpless against her, cursing her but unable to win anyway - fuck, Abby loved it. Now she'd just need to wait for you.

[sunshine-theseus]

I’ve Got You | Charlie Grant x reader

Word Count: 2.4k Summary: Having someone like Charlie by your side makes pregnancy a whole lot easier. i don't think this is my best i'm sorry Warnings: none? Request for - @charligrantismygirlfriend

Being friends with Katrina basically guaranteed being friends with Kyra and Charlie.

I met Kat in 2022, toward the end of her time at Brisbane, as she was beginning to get back in with the Matildas. I found myself crying in the baby aisle of a rather desolate IGA in Clayfield when she crouched next to me and asked me if I was alright. I didn’t look up as I struggled to calm my sobbing to explain my situation.

“He- he left me. I’m 21 and pregnant without a partner. How am I supposed to have a baby without a partner?” I stared up at her with red-rimmed eyes and tears that stream down my cheeks. It’s then that I notice she has a young baby resting on her hip, eyes gently closed as her head rests on the shoulder of this woman.

“Do… do you have anyone that will help?” I vigorously shook my head, then told her how I’d been living alone for 4 years, my parents running off to whatever dingy town they decided would bring them the most drugs without police caring.

“A- and he kicked me out. Oh fuck I don’t have anywhere to live what the fuck am I doing?!” my eyes frantically flickered around the store as my situation settled in. There was no way I could survive this.

“I know this is a weird offer but… you could live with me? I have a spare bedroom and rent is getting kind of wild. And Harper would love you.” She looked down at the girl who clung to her with such adoration.

“I’m Katrina.” She reached out her hand and I took it.

“Y/n” I smiled gently at her.

“I mean it. You living with me. I had Harper 8 months ago and I have bunch of pregnancy books and clothes and all that stuff.”

“W- what about your partner? Won’t he mind?”

“She lives in Sweden, so probably not.” Katrina then told me her story of wanting to be a mum and going through IVF, and how Harper brought her back to football.

~~~~~

About 2 months later, I was flying over to Sweden, following shortly after Kat and Harper left. I attended pretty much every game Kat played, taking care of Harper when her mum couldn’t make it, and researching a lot.

I was lucky my job was remote, so I was able to move around with Kat without an issue. My boss had sent a small gift basket of baby books and clothes when I told her I would be living overseas for 6 or so months. She also gave me less work, insisting that I meet people and do fun things instead of worrying about how much I had to do. She was probably the person who pushed me the most to meet someone new.

It was 2 weeks after I moved in with Kat, and met Clara, that I met Charlotte and Kyra. Despite Kyra’s club being 5 – 6 hours away, she’d somehow managed to make it down for a few days on a short break between matches. We all went for coffee and brunch, me limiting my food to hashbrowns and toast because most other things made me nauseas.

Charlie and Kyra asked how Kat and I met and why I was living with them. I gave them a rather short version of the day in the IGA, and Charlie reached over and put an empathetic hand on my shoulder. I give a tight-lipped smile in return.

It doesn’t take long for me to grow close to the two younger players Kat had also taken under her wing. Some days they had off, I’d take Harper off Kat and Clara’s hands and take her somewhere with Charlie, like the park or a pool. Other days we’d all go together and when Kyra could, she’d come down and spend a couple days.

It’s nice to have friends my age to hang out and talk with, Katrina having been the only person I had for the most part of 3 or so months.

Both girls insisted I need to meet the other Matildas, but I struggled to find time when they have camp, or I’m too nauseas to travel.

This creates a new problem when Kat and Clara both decide to head back to Brisbane in mid-November now that the Swedish season is done, so Kat can play with the Roar again during the A-League season.

My bump is relatively big, and most forms of travel make me sick, so I know I won’t really be able to travel with them back home, and in a few more weeks I won’t be allowed to fly. So I’m stuck by myself again. Until Charlie makes a rather compelling offer.

They don’t have any matches in the up-coming international break, so she offers me to live with her for the time being so I’m not as alone. The one fault to present itself, is she only has 1 bed. I insist I sleep on the couch, but she waves the idea away as I hold my stomach, trying to relieve some pressure.

“Oh! Can I try something? It might help give you some relief for a moment. I saw it on TikTok.” I simply nod my head; I’ll try anything at this point.

I’m slightly shocked when she circled around behind me and reached around my front, but I can’t question anything before she placed her hands beneath my belly and lifts. I groan in relief and my hand rolls back onto her shoulder.

“Holy shit that feels so nice.” She holds my belly for a minute or so before gently removing her hands and pressing a kiss to my cheek.

I flush red as she goes back to making lunch. I’ve found myself doing that a lot around her recently. Any nice gesture or any touch and I’m blushing and butterflies flutter around my stomach. Sometimes I wonder if the same thing happens to her.

Later in the day, I'm desperate to take a nap, so I slowly lay down on Charlie’s couch. It takes her all of 5 seconds to realise and start pulling me up, dragging me to her bedroom.

“If you’re so adamant that I don’t sleep on the couch, and you definitely shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch, we can share the bed. It’s big enough for us both.” I don’t have the energy to refuse as I fall back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as Charlie plays with my hair.

~~~~~

I spend the next 2 months spending time with Charlie and Kyra, who also decided not to travel home until their Cup of Nations games in February. Kyra stays on a blow-up mattress she lugged with her from Stockholm while Charlie and I continue to share the bed.

I’m a week away from my due date when I feel something wet drip down my legs. Kyra and Charlie freak out, but I let them know my contractions haven’t started. And I nearly think that maybe it was somehow a false alarm.

Nearly a day later, I feel severe pressure on my pelvis. I groan in pain and clutch my stomach as I move positions, assuming it’s just a Braxton Hicks contraction. The pain doesn’t subside for a minute or so, and Kyra doesn’t take notice of my groans from the other room, on a call with Charlie who had forgotten the grocery list and now had to have Kyra recite it to her so she could rewrite it on her phone.

I don’t think much of the contraction until I feel another one 20 minutes later, and another 20 minutes after that. They progressively get closer together and I call out to Kyra to help me up from the bed before calling for an ambulance, and I frantically scroll my contacts for Charlie’s number. It takes 10 minutes for her keys to rattle against the door and she rushes in, followed closely by the paramedics.

~~~~~

I suffer through 13 hours of labour before I’m holding a small bundle in my arms, Charlie holding another, as Kyra takes photos to send Kat later.

“I can’t believe that fucking piece of shit left you, but at least he gave you two little cuties.” Charlie passes the baby off to Kyra and turns to me.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you, Kat and Kyra.”

“I’m so proud of you.” I don’t stop to think before I lean over and gently place my lips on hers, her strawberry chapstick is all I can taste.

I see a flash go off in the corner of my eye and whip my head to look at Kyra, who giggles sheepishly before looking back down at the baby in her arms.

“I know this is probably rushed and wild, but do you want to move in with me? Officially? We can find a bigger place to house the girls. But I’ve been holding in my feelings for you for like 6 months now. I promise to take care and love you and the twins with my whole heart.” A tear falls down my cheek as I nod my head, and she kisses me again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Oh! Mini’s calling! She doesn’t know! What do I do? Do I answer?” Kyra interrupts us, frantically looking for whether she should answer or not.

“Facetime her.” Kyra hands the baby back to Charlie and quickly facetimes Katrina, who doesn’t take a moment to answer.

“None of you have answered any of my calls for the past 14 hours what the fuck is going on? Why does it look like you’re in a hospital” is the first thing she says as Kyra’s phone faces away from me.

“Well… we have a surprise.” The phone slowly pans over to Charlie and I and we both grin.

“WHAT THE FUCK? You had the baby?!”

“Babies” Charlie corrects her.

“Twins?!”

“Kat, I’d like you to meet Ashley Jade and Maysilee Hazel Gorry.” Everyone’s heads snap to look at me as I smile.

“What, what do you mean ‘Gorry’?”

“You literally changed my life, took me in when I had no one, introduced me to my best friend… and girlfriend,” I pause and give Charlie a look, she smiles in return.

“I also changed my name like a month ago, to Y/n Gorry. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind what the fuck!?” I glance back at Katrina; tears prick at her eyes and my own mirror her’s.

“I’m going to fucking fly over and meet those little cuties.”

“Well, I was thinking… if they’re healthy enough to travel, we’d fly over with Kyra and Charlie for your Cup of Nations matches in February? And I’d meet the team.” Another wave of shock ripples through out the room

“Fuck yes!”

We talk to Kat for a while after that. Harper tumbles into screen and coos at the babies but soon looses interest, and Clara comes in to congratulate me. We eventually have to say goodbye.

“Is it ok if I head back to the apartment? I think if I fall asleep on these chairs, I’ll never be able to play again.” Kyra dramatically complains, but I just smile and nod, sending her on her way.

“I know I already said it, but I am so proud of you and I love you so much. You could’ve given up on these babies, but you pushed through.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you Char, these little guys are going to adore their mumma so much.”

“Of course they will, you’re so amazing.”

“I mean you…”

“R-really?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.” She kisses me passionately, well as passionately as you can kiss someone who’s lying in a hospital bed while you’re both holding a baby.

~~~~~

“Are you excited to see your aunties?” Ashley and Maysilee’s giggles fill the car ass Charlie tickles their feet.

“Yay yay yay!” they both chant as we help them out of the car and onto their feet.

They’re running down the corridor as soon as the elevator doors part open, giggling and screaming without knowing where they’re supposed to be going. They only stop when they run into two pairs of legs, and they sheepishly look up as they go to apologise, only to be picked up.

“Aunty MinMin! Aunty Anna!” Maysilee screams as Alanna gives her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, Ashley much quieter as she returns Kat’s hug.

“We’ll look after them while you settle in. I missed my favourite twins.” Kat says as she also gives Maysilee a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Charlie and I take each other’s hand as we walk to our room, kissing our daughters goodbye and thanking the pair of teammates. When we reach the room, I waste no time in fall on the bed, Charlie following swiftly behind. I lean into her as she wraps her arms around me before I kiss her.

We spend another hour or so cuddling and kissing, basking in the childless quiet. I admire Charlie like I do every moment we get together, her crystal blue eyes, the shape of her nose, her dull pink lips, the small scar above her right eyebrow. And I wonder the same thing I always do; how did I get so lucky.

“I can’t believe we brought our kids to the Olympics. Who does that? We should have left them with someone back in London.” I joke before kissing her.

“I’d take my babies anywhere; I hate being apart from you all.” Charlie pouts and kisses me again, and again.

~~~~~

Charlie brings Ashley, Maysilee and I to all the events and training sessions Tony allows her to, the girls always with one of their Mumma’s jerseys on or something that showcases a blatant support for the Matildas.

After a particularly difficult game, the team silently heads back to their rooms, Charlie curling up under the blanket as I get the twins ready for bed. When they notice she hasn’t come to kiss them goodnight, they clamber up onto the bed and start to tickle and poke her. She doesn’t respond and they seem to understand she’s upset.

“What’s wrong mumma?”

“Mumma’s just sad and hurt about today babies.” Charlie whispers through shaky breath.

I watch as they calm down and instead wrap their arms around her and kiss her gently, like she kisses them when they’re hurt. I slowly slide in behind Ashley, wrapping my arm around all 3 of them.

“We’ve got you baby.” I give them all a kiss and we fall asleep like that, the sun slowly allowing the blanket of stars to fill the sky.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Coffees, Plural

Colt Seavers (The Fall Guy 2024) x Reader

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in this story except for Sheila and the reader insert!

Author’s Notes: Reader uses she/her pronouns and is AFAB; reader has an immigrant mother, however where her mother is from is unspecified. The plot of the movie hath been screwed with, basically just imagine the movie with no *SPOILERRR* murdering by our dear leading man, that Jody and Colt are just friends and Colt never had his accident. While I don’t like erasing big plots it was hard to work around it with the timeframe of both the movie and the fic, hopefully the writing makes up for it 🙃 Jody and reader are friends from college, Colt and reader meet on the set of Metalstorm. If you like the story, a comment would be super appreciated! Part two and three are out! Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s the best!

Content/Content Warning: Nothing crazy, this is just the meet cute!

𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼

If you had asked me what I thought I’d be doing with my life ten years ago, me-from-ten-years-ago would have told you something along the lines of “I don’t know,” “teacher,” or perhaps “nomad.”

That would’ve been her (me-from-ten-years-ago’s) third year of college, where she was newly 21, burnt out, sick of the education program, and just about ready to drop out.

Then she discovered makeup. Fun, out of the box makeup. Her immigrant mother, who really did mean well, had given her a graphic liner palette for Christmas- “Oh honey, I thought this was the makeup you wanted!” And sure, it wasn’t what she had wanted… at first… but then, the week before exams in a fit of stress, she tried it out. Five hours later she discovered a talent she never knew she had, and had created a look that had astounded both her and her roommate, Jody Moreno.

She’d always been good at the basics- rarely did a day pass without getting a compliment on her eyeliner wing or her ombré eyeshadow, but this graphic liner? This was where it was at. It challenged her and made her smile, and she finally found what she wanted to do in her life. Makeup-more specifically the out of the box makeup- had been what spoke to her after years of not knowing what it was that she truly loved.

She- I- dropped out the day before my exam. A couple years later, after some practice and online beauty school, I had a steady gig going with weddings, senior pictures and other fancy clientele. My mom wasn’t super hyped about the idea of a makeup artist daughter at first, but once she saw the bank I was making within half a year of working her mind was changed.

Now listen. I wasn’t actively looking to be this restless soul who wouldn’t stop until she found “the perfect gig.”

But quite frankly, the makeup that pays the best is usually the most boring in composition. I could do these plain, “natural” looks in my sleep. But the thing was, nothing was giving me the same rush as when I ventured out of “normalcy” with that graphic liner years ago. Sure, in my free time I’d practice the cool graphic stuff, even venturing into more VFX style stuff, like wicked scars and things, but my free time was few and far between.

About a year ago, that same Jody Moreno, my old roommate reached out. As far as careers go she definitely had a straighter path than me. For as long as she could remember she wanted to be a director, she’d tell me. We both went to community college, but for her it was for her undergraduate so she would have a fall back if her film degree didn’t end up taking her anywhere.

Film ended up working out for her, and though we lost touch after community college, from what I’d seen on her Instagram she was doing pretty freaking well for herself, and I was happy for her.

Her producer finally gave her a shot at directing her own film last year, a movie called “Metalstorm.” Some sort of space opera with a cowboy of all things, starring world-famous actor Tom Ryder.

Now, I’m not personally too big on Tom Ryder movies- he comes off as a douche and his acting is… a choice, to say the least.

However, when your old roommate reaches out with a job proposition to be a part of a Tom Ryder movie, you don’t say no.

I couldn’t have said yes faster to Jody’s offer. I remember gawking at the screen when I read her message-

“Hey, y/n!

I know it’s been a long while, and I’m sorry for that!

To make up for it, I was wondering if you’d like to work as makeup artist on this movie I’m directing? It’s sort of a space opera with a cowboy- I know, it sounds random- and the producer’s letting me do some of my own hires if I’d like.

Anyway, if you’re interested, I’ll provide you with more details. We’ll be shooting in Australia, and I’ll get you your own trailer on set. Just let me know!

X Jody Moreno”

I could barely register how adorable it was that she still signed off with an X after all these years because of how shocked I was.

First was the fact that she had gotten her own movie- it wasn’t so much shocking as incredible, and super exciting.

Second was the fact that she was offering me a job, and that she remembered me when she got big in the industry. I had told her before I dropped out to remember me when she was famous, as a joke, but I guess she took it seriously which was extremely endearing.

I replied with an enthusiastic “yes!” and the next thing I knew I was in Australia.

I’ve gotten to do all sorts of weird makeup things since I’ve been here, including funky scars and alien makeup. It’s the dream, and it’s a blast!

I have even been trusted to do Tom Ryder’s looks, which thankfully don’t take too much effort or time because as I suspected, he is in fact a massive douche with an ego the size of Mars. I was able to get him passed over to Sheila, our executive makeup artist who takes no nonsense, and who cuts him off by busting into song- usually an eighties hit- any time he tries to speak. She has a great voice, so both the lack of his asshole words and the presence of her beautiful voice are very much welcomed.

Sheila liked the work I was doing for the Space Cowboy scars though, so she gave me Douchebag’s main stuntman to work on.

Enter Colt Seavers. Six feet of pure muscle and a well filled out frame, blue eyes with an energy that can only be described as “puppy-like,” brown hair that’s dyed blonde on the tips to match Douchebag, and a rogue-ish beard. He’s undeniably attractive, and he’s got a sarcastic sense of humor to match.

Basically, he’s what Tom Ryder is played out to be, but better. 

When I had first met him, it took me a hot minute to pick my jaw up off the floor. It was a Monday morning, three months into my time on the filming site. I’d over slept that morning, and made it to the makeup trailer ten minutes late, worried that my new client would be wondering where I was. In my defense, 6 in the morning is too early to be doing anything.

I had breathed out a huge sigh of relief when I found out that he was apparently also running late, and grabbed a grape soda from the mini fridge in the trailer. We had every flavor- from cherry to pickle- but I was most fond of grape.

Sheila, who was my main friend in the makeup crew as well as being my most direct boss, didn’t have to come in for another hour because Tom Ryder was always (at least!!) an hour and a half late to every appointment. I didn’t really know the other artists at the time, so I just sat in my chair waiting for my client as the others worked on the early clients. They were working on the extras who played humans in the upcoming scene, making sure everyone had a unique futuristic look.

Ten minutes later I decided I was sick of waiting and pulled out my graphic liner, the same pallet from ten years ago. It was a little worse for wear, about half the colors missing and the others not far off. But it reminded me of my roots and why I was where I was, and I couldn’t bear to part with it- even if I was in dire need of pink. Kidding. I love the thing, so, so much.

I ended up doing something elaborate with purple, green and blue arches. It sort of looked like the northern lights, if the northern lights were a dramatic eyeliner wing.

I was nearly done with the touch ups, too locked in on the look to notice on the figure that appeared behind me somewhere between the second swipe of purple and the subtle yellow accent.

“Hi! You must be y/n, sorry I’m late-” came a soft, low voice that had a slight gravel to it. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly focusing on the exact tone of his voice when I jumped with a slight squeak and dragged yellow down the side of my face. Real nice.

“Oof, sorry!” he said. He was holding two cups of coffee, and he looked very unsure of what to do.

If wiping yellow eyeliner down the side of my face hadn’t been embarrassing enough, I just had to look up. I caught his blue-eyed gaze in the mirror, took in all six feet of him and was basically, to put it as elegantly as possible, completely taken aback by his hotness.

I promise I’m not a superficial person, by the way. Colt Seavers is just really this pretty. I’ve never been one to notice the “intensity of the blue hue of [one’s] eyes,” or any romance novel cliche like that, but Colt Seavers was a very different story.

Remember how I mentioned that my jaw had been on the floor when I met him? When I stopped mentally drooling over him in his dirty white Space Cowboy costume with all its latches and gold accents I realized that my mouth was actually open. Oops. Really great first impression.

“I’m so sorry. Let’s try this again. I’m y/n, and you’re-“

“Colt Seavers- stuntman, and guy who scares makeup artists when he’s a half hour late. Sorry I startled you,” he apologized genuinely.

“It’s all good,” I said, standing up. His chest is eye level, and I don’t really know how to feel about that. “I’ll tell you what- how about you take a seat and just give me a minute to wash this off,” I suggest.

“Yeah of course, please, take your time!”

“No worries, it’ll be just a minute. You can set your coffees, plural, on the counter in front of the chair,” I told him.

“My coffees, plural, and I are grateful for your kindness,” he teased. I shook my head and smiled, and then walked into the bathroom of the trailer to fix my face. About a minute it was off- thankfully my old pallet wasn’t the most top notch makeup. I returned back to my little booth of sorts, where Colt sat comfortably, his leg bouncing up and down.

“Are your coffees, plural, comfortable?” I asked by way of greeting.

“Why yes they are, thank you,” he chuckled.

“I’m going to get started on the scarring in your face, if that’s alright?”

“Of course.”

“So… the coffees?” I tried to make conversation as I pulled a couple of pallets out from the drawer in the booth.

“They’re my life force,” he says dramatically.

“Oh yeah?” I first grab an alcohol wipe, and gently wipe his face.

“Yep- and also the reason I was late. Sorry again, by the way.”

“No worries- I was late too. Only ten minutes though,” I start applying primer with a fluffy brush.

“We can’t all be a half hour late,” he conceded as if it were an accomplishment. I liked his humor right off the bat.

“That is true…” I agree as I finish applying the powder. “Alright, we’re going to let that sit a minute. Care to tell me how your coffees- plural- made you late?”

His ears turn red. Man, he’s cute.

“Er- I have an affinity- not an addiction!- for coffee, if you couldn’t already tell.”

“An affinity?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to emulate The Rock in my stare.

“Yes, an affinity,” there was that little laugh again. It’s sort of a giggle, and definitely unexpected from this guy who looks like a walking action hero. I liked it. “Anyway, I drank a cup-or two-before getting into this costume, thinking that if I had to, er, piss, I could get out of it easily. It took a half hour to get into all of these damn buckles, and by the end of that half hour, guess who had to piss?”

“The costume designer?” I joked. That got a laugh out of him, again.

“Yes, the costume designer, obviously. But yeah, apparently a side effect of my coffee addic-affinity is perpetual lateness.”

“Huh, I’ll have to keep that in mind,” I noted as I reached for one of my pallets. “I’m going to start on the scarring on your face, there’s one that goes on your left cheek and another where your hair’s parted.”

“Okay, sounds good.” It’s quiet for a little bit, but not necessarily in an awkward way. I’m about halfway done with the scarring on his cheek, the one that’s supposed to look like a fresh wound.

“So, how’d you get into makeup?” Colt asked, careful not to move his mouth too much.

“Oh, that’s a bit of a long story,” I told him, adding highlights to the scar.

“I’ve got time,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“If you say so…” I mumbled, before telling him the abridged version of how I got into makeup.

“I have to say, I’m really glad your mom bought you the wrong pallet,” he commented at the end of my story.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re really good at what you do,” he complimented, sincerity in his voice as he checked himself out in mirror. By that point I had finished his face, and stepped behind him so he could see himself. We both smiled, eyes meeting in the glass.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to cringe at the light blush that had appeared on my face.

Looking back on it, I think my crush on Colt Seavers really did develop on day one. But little did I know, it’d only get stronger.

𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼𐬿𐬼

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hey, just today I've decided to stop seeing my parents and siblings for an indeterminate amount of time, and to possibly even break off all contact if it has to come to that. They refuse to acknowledge me as the person i really am and I can't keep sacrificing my mental health and me up for that. Will you please pray for me? And if it's not too much to ask, do you perhaps have a bible passage to strengthen me during this time? I still want to stay close to God, because I know the way God created me was correct and good. Thank you

~Micha (they/them)

Hi Micha,

What a difficult, courageous thing you've done. I will absolutely hold you in my prayers; I pray you will find relief in having finally made the hard decision, and continue to live into flourishing.

The Bible story that comes to my mind is a strange one, only told by Mark (3:20-35):

Very early in Jesus's ministry, as he gathers followers and gains attention, his family is apparently very concerned.

Perhaps they know this path puts him in danger; or maybe they just worry about his "lifestyle" reflecting badly on them. Either way, they know they have to "take control of him;" after all, he's clearly "out of his mind" (v. 21).

So his mother and siblings hurry to a house where Jesus is teaching, but it's packed so full they can't get inside. So they send a messenger in and also call for him from outside (vv. 31-32). I can just imagine their calls: "Please honey, this isn't like you! Who influenced you to go this way?" "You're the man of the house, you can't just abandon us to hang out with queer friends and say edgy things!" "What will the neighbors say?"

But when Jesus is told his family is out there calling to him, he answers, “Who is my mother? Who are my siblings?” Looking around at those seated around him in a circle, he said, “Look, here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does God’s will is my brother, sister, and mother.”

We know Jesus's love for his mother. I am sure he loved his whole family with the infinite depth of God. Yet he risks losing them, says hard words he know will probably hurt, because if they make him choose between them and living out God's will, he has to choose God's will.

We don't know whether he ever reconciled with his siblings; they don't appear anywhere else in the Gospels. Maybe this was their last encounter, not even face-to-face. Maybe his brothers could not abide his abnormal lifestyle and chose to cut him out of their lives.

But we do know Jesus reconciles with Mary, the mother who proclaimed divine revolution as a newly pregnant teen (Luke 1:46-55) — yet who seems to waver now, either out of fear for her son or failing to understand that what he's doing now is the revolution.

But I like to imagine when Mary hears what Jesus says about family, the implication that she is only mother to him if she continues to help him in living God's will, she immediately corrects course. She will keep supporting him, even when she doesn't fully understand.

Sure enough, Mary supports him all the way to the cross, all the way to the grave. They are present for each other, comforting each other through the worst moment of both their lives.

[Jesus even fuses his biological family and his found family together from the cross. Now that he will no longer be the "man" in Mary's life who offers her legal and social protection; and now that he won't be there to love on his Beloved, he offers John to Mary, Mary to John. "Woman, here is your son. John, here is your mother!" (John 19:25-27)

Is that queer or what?? As his final act on this side of the tomb, Jesus essentially makes his mother and lover mother-in-law and son-in-law! ...I can't not think of the AIDS crisis, where dying partners would pass their beloved's care over to surviving loved ones.]

___

Jesus always prioritized chosen family over biological family. A biological relative can be part of your chosen family, but belonging to that family is no more automatic for them than for anyone else.

Jesus shows us that when family fails to support us in doing God's will — in this case, taking up the invitation to co-create yourself with God, to commit your own small rebellion against the status quo, to prophecy resurrection as embracing your queerness brings you to new life — they cease to be family in the way that matters most.

That rupture can be mended at any point, if and when those who did harm seek to make amends — and receive consent to do so. Whether or not reconciliation ever takes place, we seek out others who will celebrate us and support us in our efforts to glorify God with our lives.

___

God of love, Hold Micha close in this time of loss and and changed relationships. Comfort them in the knowledge that this rupture is no fault of theirs, but caused by parents and siblings refusing to embrace all they are, and failing imagine a fuller Kin(g)dom, a vaster love, a more colorful Image of God.

Spirit of courage and wisdom, guide Micah towards those who will delight in all that they are. Help them build a family founded on love, equity, and mutual support. Wherever their journey takes them, make your unconditional love, your unwavering presence known to them.

Amen.

[estrellayluna]

Heartbroken

Nanami Kento • Toji Fushiguro • Gojo Saturo ( Separate posts )

How I envision the three men would break your heart

Visuals will be linked, please check them out!

Nanami Kento

( let’s pretend he’s 21 bc I just can’t picture him ever cheating at his big age!!)

You had told Nanami you would be gone for the majority of the day with your friend unsure of what time you would make it back. Though you had planned this day with your friend for quite sometime you had felt guilty that you didn’t make time for Nanami, surprisingly he had the day off as well. You were a little saddened as to why he didn’t feel the need to tell you but he reassured you that you’d just enjoy the beautiful day you two had woken up to.

Though the respected careers that the both of you have, you’ve noticed it had managed to make a wedge between the two of you.

Not wanting to get your hopes up, you tried to mentally promise yourself you could try to make it back to Nanami’s place just before 7pm that day and spend the remainder of the late afternoon with your love.

That is what you hoped.

You had asked your friend to drop you off at Nanami’s instead of your place. With not many shopping bags with you, you didn’t feel the need to go back to yours. You saved as much energy for the remainder of the day. Though in mind, hoping to see Nanami and surprise him once again just to probably lay in each others arms had kept you pretty content.

What you had at expect was to find Nanami being folded by another woman.

Candles warmly illuminating the living room, whilst soft music could be heard just mere inches away in Nanami’s record player.

The record player that you gifted him over a year ago. The candles you had gotten him when you were out shopping at home decors.

Have the both of you been so caught up in your work life you never noticed he must have been going behind your back in secrecy.

But never in a million years would you think that the man you loved, Nanami Kento cheat on you.

Not wasting another breath your own feet seem to guide you because the pit in your stomach would have rather you projectile in then and there.

Almost stumbling your way outside the building where Nanami resides, the rush of cold air almost made you sick

You felt your body want to reject everything that just happened.

Making your way down the street to go literally anywhere you hear him call out your name.

Shame, embarrassment and pity is all you felt when you heard him call for you. Not looking back, and your the heels of your feet in agony in the stomping unbeknownst to you while you fled.

Nanami pulls you by your left arm begging you to look at him.

Embarrassment.

Please, let me explain to you

You felt utterly disgusted at the thought of his hands ever touching someone else’s skin. Not before or after, but whilst the two of you were still together.

What could there possibly be to explain

You felt your cheeks get getting puffy already, trying to pull your arm away from his

I am sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way

Before he could say anything else the sudden urge to punch him was enough to know it was over between you. Because there was hatred within it.

But he knew just as well as anyone you could never.

Feeling numb, your hand went up to punch him on the shoulder.

Though instead of hatred it was just a punch of pain and agony.

How could you Nanami, you had me!

Another miserable punch landed on his chest this time, tears eventually rolling down your face

The less days we had together-

No Nanami, don’t make excuses! Because not once did I ever see you differently! And especially anyone else!

The last final blows of your weak punches find their way to the collar of Nanami’s shirt so desperately trying to hold on.

All you heard was the sigh coming from his mouth. And it made you feel worthless all over again.

It’s not fair Nanami

I’m sorry…

-

Tell me why I had to type the whole damn link character by character omfg

[bonecoatvodtranscripts]

Transcript: talking about something more serious (Shubble VOD 2/21/2024)

CWs: physical abuse, emotional abuse/gaslighting, financial abuse, mentions of sexual assault

Feel free to reupload this transcript anywhere, I really don't care about credit for this one

--

Hello!

I don't know if you can even hear it. I put on, like, light jazz in the background because it seemed awkward being quiet, but I don't think you can hear it, so I'm just going to turn it off. Hello.

Welcome. We are in emote-only cause I'm just going to be talking today and then I'm going to go. I'm going to go. Yeah, it was very very low. There's no need. I just - it felt weird leaving you in silence, but I'm here, so.

Hello. I want to talk about something today that... I'm very nervous. I feel sweaty. I had a sweater on. I had to take it off.  I'm going to try and just - I wrote down pretty much everything I think that I want to say, to keep track of all the points that I want to make sure I don't forget anything, so I will be reading from something a good portion of the time, but not 100% of the time. And I just wanted to make sure I got all of my thoughts down in words ahead of time. I really like writing down my thoughts, so I did that. 

Oh, hold on. Can I turn ads off? I think that maybe we turn ads off today. (laughs) How do I make that happen for just today? I should have had that already. I actually don't even know how to make that happen. You know what? That's just going to have to be that way. I'm so sorry, um... I'm all good. 

Yeah, okay. Today's just going to be talking. I'm just going to start reading from what I wrote and go from there. I have a really big coffee. I'm going to take a swig. (drinks some coffee) And I have my water, and I'm going to take a swig of that. (drinks some water) 

I have always liked telling my different experiences that I've had in dating, because it feels important to me to share what I've learned and maybe help other people to not make the same mistakes that I have before. I'm 30. I've dated a lot. I've gone on a lot of dates. I keep trying, and it's unfortunate that a lot of my dating history, there were a lot of bad people that tried to manipulate or control me. But that's not to say that every person that I've dated has treated me poorly. Some people just weren't the right people. And speaking out about my bad experiences has never felt as important as it does right now, because silence has always brought me peace, and this time it feels like my silence is not keeping my peace. It's only keeping somebody else's peace. 

And I never thought that I could be the kind of person to end up in a situation like I did. I never thought that could happen to me. And so for me this is important, because it could help anybody else see the signs sooner than I did, or hopefully avoid a similar situation entirely, because... (deep breath) The truth is it was dangerous. 

There were a lot of things wrong in this relationship that, um... I endured some pretty terrible treatment. And I might touch on some things here and there about that, if I feel like it's important to the overall context. But what I want to stay focused on is this specific issue, and the things that happened matter-of-factly and the things that people saw and witnessed in our circle. 

It took me 10 months after to heal, and I spoke with multiple therapists and tried different forms of therapy. I tried somatic therapy. That one was actually really good for me, because that one actually helped me release a lot of built-up anger I was having over the last year. But the anger that I was feeling was for myself, because I felt like I should have known better. I felt so stupid at myself for staying through all of this. And I shared my story with a lot of friends after I started talking to therapists, and I was like, So this thing happened and I wasn't really sure. It just seems weird now to me, looking back. And all of them told me exactly what was happening in the words that I was too afraid to use. And I was being hurt in my last relationship, and it took me all of that time to see it through that lens. I even posted an anonymous story to Reddit that I have now deleted, with an anonymous account, but in posting that, I found a dozen other stories that were exactly like mine, exactly the same way. And all of the comments said exactly the same thing. 

And I was so mad at myself because I was lying, too, at a certain point, to protect this person, because I knew that if I told my friends the truth, it would make him look really bad. 

I didn't think that I would cry, and I practiced saying all of this and I didn't cry, but it's easier to practice it when no one is listening. 

But he always cared more about how it looked, and that was really important. Not what was true. And it was really subtle. When I hear about... When I hear about physical abuse, I think of hitting. I think of hitting and punching. So I thought that this wasn't violent enough to be abuse. I thought that it was just, like, a constant accident that he kept hurting me. But he's not hitting me.

And it didn't start as something that he did to hurt me. He had this habit of biting, which is so weird to me now, but he said that he had this habit since he was a kid, and even his mom said that that was true, and he said it was just affectionate, and that might have been... I mean, I think that might have been true maybe at the start, but I also feel that I have good reason to believe that every part of it was a lie. But that's just my personal opinion. 

And I had no problem with just biting. That isn't even the most uncommon thing. But he did mention something early that I should have taken as a red flag. And he want wanted to make sure that I was okay with him biting me, because he didn't want me to come back later and say that he abused me, which I thought was really weird considering he had never hurt me before, and so why would I call it abuse, and why was he thinking about that? And I thought he was being sweet, checking on me to make sure that I was still comfortable, but of course I was, because he hadn't hurt me. And why would I think he ever would? 

And then he did for the first time, by accident. And I don't specifically remember the actual first time that he bit me too hard by accident, because I didn't think that it would be significant. I thought that it would only happen once. And he started biting me more and more over a period of time, sort of throughout the whole relationship, and accidents of him biting too hard and really hurting me happened more and more frequently. But he always seemed genuinely sorry, and he decided that he didn't want to keep accidentally hurting me. So we were going to use a safeword so he could learn where my limit was, where my pain tolerance ended. And saying that out loud now doesn't sound - like, that's not very sound logic. But at the time, I thought he cared about not hurting me, but in reality it's like, why are you biting so hard? And why do you have to bite so hard? And it shouldn't be that hard of a problem to stop. That shouldn't be that hard.

And he disguised it as this really quirky part of our relationship, and was so comfortable sharing it with his friends, to the point that he would do it in front of them. He thought it was this really funny story to tell, and a good bit to take my arm and bite me in front of everybody until I literally shout in pain. And then I have to laugh  it off, because I'm so embarrassed and I don't want to cause a scene in front of our friends, and I'm sure everyone was a little bit uncomfortable, but as long as I was saying that it was fine, nobody really felt like they needed to be concerned, and that's not anybody's fault, because I was lying. I was lying, and it wasn't fine, because I would go home later and I'd tell him how uncomfortable I was, how much I didn't like being hurt all the time, and I needed him to really stop biting so hard. I didn't like it, and I tried telling him over and over again, because he-

[VOD cuts] - asked him to stop again. This time he said, This is who he is. He isn't going to change. Those were his words. And I remember a lot of specifically his words about certain things, especially at the end, because I'm good at remembering words. Especially his wording, I became really good at remembering, because he was constantly contradicting himself. And I would notice, but most of the time it wasn't worth picking a fight over. But he would fight me on it sometimes, cause I would point it out, and he would insist that he had never said the thing 

that he said, he definitely did say. And then he would say something like, "How are you so sure you're remembering correctly? Why are you always right?" And he definitely said the things that I heard him say, and other people heard him say. 

So he had, now, at this point, weaponized the safeword, and was using it to ensure that I was hurt and on a constant basis, and he wasn't sorry anymore. I couldn't even tell you the last time he had apologized for doing it anymore, because now sometimes he would bite me, and I would yell out the safeword because it hurt so bad, and he'd clamp down even harder. Just for a second, just for good measure, before letting go. And sometimes I'd say the safeword, and he'd grind his teeth down on my skin, and sometimes he'd smile after, like a gloating grin.

And during this time I was filled with so much anxiety all the time that I was constantly nauseous, gagging daily, on occasion throwing up because of the pit that was in my stomach. I never told him about that, though. I was going and running away quietly to throw up in the toilet and rejoin our group of friends. But I felt so unwanted and ignored. And I would tell him that, and then he would reassure me that he wanted to be together and he loved me. He loved me more than I loved him, even. He would always insist that that was true. Like that, "I love you." "I love you more." But he was, like, really serious about it. 

And looking back, I do believe that the way I was swept off my feet at the beginning of this relationship was 100% love bombing. And we were friends for a time. At least, people would have thought that, actually, but I use the word "friend" very loosely, because we had actually never spoke to each other outside of group chats we were in together, like, a handful of times throughout the whole time that we knew each other, but did not talk to each other. so I wouldn't have even called him my friend. Until he found out I was single, waited a few weeks to reach out, and then we started a friendship. And then that friendship turned romantic, and then he made these huge romantic gestures. He wrote me the most beautiful love letter that I had ever read. He called me his soulmate. He talked about forever one month in. He told me he hadn't been in a relationship in 5 years. He thought he could never find love again before he met me. He said he wanted someone to grow with. He wanted to be a dad. He had all his names picked out. And I didn't have a preference, because my feeling of it is, if the timing is right, and with the right person I could. But if that doesn't work out in time, or the timing, you know, I'm not super pressed about it. 

But I started opening my mind up to the idea with him, because it seemed so important to him. And I kept trying to talk to him to figure out where he was later on when I could tell things were declining, and now, all of a sudden he's telling me he's not sure he wants kids at all. In fact, he has never been attached to the idea of kids. And I told him that isn't what he said before, and he said he's allowed to change his mind. And I'm of the opinion that in a relationship, there are a few things that you are not actually allowed to change your mind without letting your partner know. I think that kids is one of them. It wasn't even important to me. And I think marriage is one of them, so I brought that up next. And I asked if he still wanted marriage. He said he wanted to marry me. And then he said now, "I'm not the-" this is a quote, "I'm not the commitment guy. You know that." 

I didn't know that. Why are you dating me? In fact, he was telling me the exact opposite every day. He would tell me he still wanted to be together. He wanted to work on all of the problems. He wanted me at the end of everything. He did not want to break up. He made that very clear.

I have, though, caught him in lies before, but usually it was small stuff, and again, I didn't want to - It wasn't anything that ever seemed worth rocking the boat over. Which isn't normal for me. I hate lies. And yet I ended up lying for him. But he had lied about big things, and he had also been caught lying by his friends numerous times. So this is something that he feels is acceptable to do. 

And everything reached a breaking point when he was about to leave for an extended period of time. We were not going to see each other very much- a few days out of every few months. And now suddenly he is dumping all of these problems that he has been having feelings about all of this time later. At one point he said he's been feeling this way a couple months. At another point he says he's been feeling this way for six months, immediately contradicting himself in the same conversation. And with no time to do anything about it. I arrive the one of- Never mind. I'm going to get to something later. But I literally arrived for 3 days for this conversation to happen and then leave.

(cat mews) My cat just woke up and she's not usually awake right now. (leans to cat, offscreen) Hi, my love. It's really close to her dinner time. I should have fed her early. 

So, no time to fix any of the problems all of a sudden, because there are three days before he leaves. And he insisted he did not want to break up. And so he was expecting me to have a solution somehow magically, and I gave a number of solutions that would have a way forward for us to be together, but he refused to make any compromise whatsoever. And he said that the relationship was starting to feel like a responsibility towards the end. Also his words. So it wasn't a responsibility the whole rest of the time to him. 

And he was at this point basically flaunting that he would never prioritize me over anything. (talking to cat, indistinct) And I wasn't even asking for literally even the bare minimum. I was asking for so little. And he - I was watching him give exactly what I was needing in the relationship all over the place to anybody else who just happened to ask and just wasn't me. 

And also, he was never going to prioritize me over anything that would give him more fame or money. In fact, he said that himself. That was exactly why he was not going to compromise at all for a solution for us to be together, because he said he wanted to see how much fame and money he could get. And I just thought we wanted to be together. I thought that's what we both wanted, because that's what he was still saying he wanted, too. 

But then he also admitted to me that he had grown to resent me. And I have to be thankful that he said that bit out loud - a lot of these bits, he said out loud - because that was the last push that I needed to get myself out. He had grown resentful, which I also pointed out that there was no reason to feel that way, and he admitted that there was no reason for him to feel that way either. I think that it was because I'm someone who can communicate how I feel.

But I don't know. I have a lot of theories and reasons why I believe things happened the way that they did, and why he was lying all of the time. But he was resentful of me, was causing me physical harm every day, multiple times a day, despite me telling him over and over again to stop. He wasn't going to change and he wasn't going to end the relationship. He was going to keep hurting me, and it was possibly going to escalate even further. So I broke up with him. And I didn't even want to, because I couldn't even see for such a long time after what it really was that had 

happened, that he had abused me. And in fact we left things as, we want to be friends, and he can never imagine not speaking to me again. And then he never spoke to me again, outside of, like, a couple of exchanges where I needed to ask for my clothes to be shipped, so at least I got my clothes back. I had a whole closet full. However, he did throw away all of my other things without saying a word to me about it. Hundreds of dollars of things from my office were trashed without a word. And I didn't block him till 10 months later because I wanted an open door still. I really thought I wanted to be his friend. But, uh, I don't feel that way anymore.

I do believe he was bottling up so many emotions, and he would never talk about how he felt. I think he even - I mean, he did admit that he felt like he couldn't say it any sooner, like there was just no possible way to say how he was feeling sooner than the absolute last possible chance. Not even a chance, because 3 days before he left - that was actually a lie too, also. He didn't leave for another week after I left. He brought me in, had this three-day conversation. He was supposed to leave, and then he stayed for another week before he left with all of the friends that I was also meant to see, but he had lied to me about the dates, too. 

But I do believe that he was bottling up so many emotions that he was taking it out on me physically. I believe there was a moment where he knew that he didn't want to be in the relationship anymore, and instead of just ending it, he tried to push me away any way he knew would hurt me. And he knew all of the ways that would hurt me the most. And he knew he was hurting me. There was no way that he didn't know, because of the safeword that he made, and he just didn't care. He was hurting me, and he didn't care, and even looked like he was enjoying it sometimes. 

And I can look back now and I can see all these instances that were really major red flags. There was this one time that he pinned me down and asked me to try my absolute hardest to get him off of me. And I couldn't do it, obviously, and he said something to make the point that he was so much stronger than me that I wouldn't be able to fight him back. Fight back against what? What do you mean? You don't say shit like that to people. That's insane. And I was also sexually assaulted by my first boyfriend, and he knew that.

He had stopped giving anything to the relationship, and he said that why was because he was just waiting for things to change on their own. He said he also didn't have the time or energy anyway to do the things that I was asking for, but then would constantly make any bit of time and energy for anybody and anything but me. And he would say he wanted more quality time, so then I would try to arrange things for us to do online because we were long distance, but then he would complain that he doesn't want to spend all of his time on the computer anymore. And then we'd be there in person and all he wants to do is stay inside, play games on his computer, watch movies. He doesn't want to go out.

And I'm not saying any of this next part to be mean. He lived in filth like I have never seen. And I've seen filth. This was the worst. He would spill things on the floor and never, literally never clean them up. He got an ant infestation once, and wasn't going to do anything about it because he said he said "Bugs are normal in British houses," so I had to buy ant killer. And he wouldn't clean his bathroom for months and months and months, but would constantly complain about how bad it smelled, and I would tell him, "That's mold. It's mold." He complained about being tired all the time, too, which I don't know if that was a lie or not, but mold will do that too. But he would insist that it wasn't, somehow, without having cleaned in months, but it's not mold. 

When I met him, he was washing his clothes without detergent. Just he wasn't using that at all, and I don't know for how long before I met him. He was just running it with water and then hanging it on his filthy kitchen cabinets. And I felt bad. I felt bad because I felt like he needed someone to help him learn how to be cleaner. I thought he just didn't know how. And I listened to all of the struggles of his upbringing, and I was like, he just doesn't know how. Someone just needs to show him. And then I found out that he said he doesn't clean at all when I'm not there, because he just waits for me to get there to do it. And I only found out about that after we broke up, because he said it behind my back.

I was doing all of the cleaning and laundry for him. Also, I had a separate bathroom. I want to make that clear I wasn't using that bathroom. I had a separate bathroom that I cleaned for myself. I had cleaning supplies. I don't think he even actually knew I had cleaning supplies in there. But I had my own bathroom.

All the cleaning, all the laundry, all of it. I was paying for all of the, like, paper towels, soap. All of that only stayed in the house so long as I was buying it. I would arrive and there would just not be toilet paper in the whole house. There were paper towels instead. And who knows for how long, too. I was paying for food more than half the time, because he would often push me into ordering food for us, even if I had paid for the last meal or the meal before that. And I'm of the opinion now that I shouldn't have been paying for any food. None at all, But I wanted to, at least, I thought I was being equal by at least doing, like, a back and forth. But I ended up paying for food more often than just going back and forth anyway. And he would do this to his friends all the time, too.

But I was also paying for every plane ticket and the catsitter, which cost roughly the amount of a plane ticket to England. And he never offered to help me pay after the couple of times he did come here to visit me, because he paid for the flights that we would both take. But that only happened twice at the very beginning. I have actually had a friend tell me that this is financial abuse, but I don't know enough about that to say for myself. But I was telling him that I couldn't afford it all by myself all the time, because I was losing money. I was never able to work properly there, and he wasn't traveling at all to see me anymore, even though he said he would. That was, like, the basis of our entire relationship starting off. So then he agreed to pay for the catsitter so that it would be basically paying half the cost of my travels. And he did that once. (pause) And then never did it again despite many more months of dating. And I was traveling often. I had to, because he was worried that we weren't spending enough quality time together. And then all of the time that he would have ever extra, he would choose - choose - to not spend it on me, because there was an available choice and he chose not to spend it with me often. 

And I did everything short of just up and move there, which I was willing to do the whole time, and I told him that I was willing to do it and he knew, but he insisted that I don't. He insisted not to. He was planning to move here. That was supposed to happen first. And then at the end of the relationship, he said maybe things would have been different if I lived there. If I lived there, like I had said I would the whole time, and he insisted I don't. Maybe that could have saved the relationship. 

And I say all of this because I believe that people like this are genuinely dangerous. I believe he is dangerous. He was willing to lie. He was willing to do harm to someone he claimed to love more than anyone he has ever loved. His actions escalated, and I don't think that I'll be the last person that he hurts. And I felt like sharing my story was really important to warn people. I want people to see the signs that I refused to. I want you to listen to your body and get out as soon as possible. Tell your friends the truth and let them help you.

I really thought I couldn't - because I had been sexually assaulted in a previous relationship. I just thought I was so much smarter. And I was like, if someone ever laid their hands on me, I'd leave immediately. It would never happen a second time. But you just, it just kind of happened so slowly over time, and got worse and worse and worse until the point where there's no way to deny the fact that he was hurting me and he knew and didn't care. That's just the kind of thing that I keep repeating to myself when I'm like, "But was it bad enough? It wasn't violent enough." But I was being hurt multiple times every single day, days and days and days and days for a month at a time in a row. 

And I'm not even speaking on most - because I did touch on other things, but I am not even speaking on most of the other things that, in my opinion, I do think that there are some things that are across a line that make you a bad person. I don't think that most people can be defined in a black-and-white "you're good or you're bad," but I do believe that there's a line that you can cross, and only bad people will do the things on the other side of that line, you know what I mean?

And the number of - (voice breaks, covers her mouth) I only cry now when I'm talking about my friends! Who also dealt with such shitty things from shitty people! But I'm also so, so grateful for all of my friends who were with me through this whole thing, and my friends who also were experiencing similar sorts of situations, at the same time, and we kind of went through it together. So I think they are the strongest people in the whole world, and they made me feel like the strongest people in the whole world today. Did I call myself people? I meant person. I feel like the strongest people - (laughs) I did it again. I feel like the strongest person. They made me feel so brave. I felt impenetrable today. 

But I am going to go now because my friends are coming over and we're immediately going to go become distracted by watching Love is Blind. I already watched all of it already, and I don't care. So thank you for listening. Thank you everyone who gifted subs. I am going to be taking the rest of the week off from streaming. I have a video going out on Saturday, and I'll be back next week, and you won't hear about any of this again for a while, probably, but thank you all. 

I don't really even know what to do now. I think I'm just going to end. Go spread love all over the place on Twitch right now, and I'll see you.

[gayferrari]

Wait do you know about the Estelle age weirdness? It adds an extra dimension I feel. If you’re uncomfortable gossip posting don’t feel you have to share though!

So in the UK that relationship article this week had Tatler call her 21 and The Sun call her 22 but she’s a semi influencer that has been around for a WHILE.

She was featured in The Tab (a uni newspaper) in 2018 under her old ig name before she deactivated it this year (sillylettuce) and my friend’s roommate who went to the same uni says they were in the same halls. There’s other stuff too as she has been in some way online for years but no one conclusively knows her age at all and it is incredibly strange. She could be anywhere from 21-24.

Ok this is the only ask I am going to post re: rookies love triangle gossip but I got all of them! I saw the "Ollie's girlfriend is lying about her age" drama on f1twt months ago and I think it's incredibly funny it has now hit the British tabloid press. I don't know this random girl at all but I support her right to use a fake last name and possibly fake age while attempting an influencer career, ngl. At some point, the influencer gig will have to end and I actually think it's pretty smart not to want to have your personal information out there for everyone to google (including your future employer)

ngl my toxic trait is that I don't believe we live in a society where "young racing drivers being taken advantage of by influencers" is an actual issue, so I can't find it within me to muster outrage. If us random tumblrinas have heard about this stuff, so have Franco and Ollie and probably their friends and families, who are the people who actually have reasons to be concerned about any of this. And they're still choosing to go there!#goodforthem. I support these kids' rights to be young and rich and messy.

Anyway. In 10 years when Franco and Ollie are battling for podiums someone will bring up the fact that they fucked around with the same girl when they were both in F2 and people will point to it as the basis of a lifelong rivalry... everybody say thank u Estelle

[undeuxs]

wolfstar (remus x sirius), long au with suggestive themes

thinking about parisian!sirius, who moved out from london with his family when he was barely 12, and now being 21 his beloved childhood friends, james, peter and remus, are visiting him for the first time in paris.

sirius gets so excited about them coming over that he starts annotating which pubs are worth it and which aren't. he gets more and more nervous when their reunion is approaching that he finds himself trying to guess which places in the city will the boys like better.

"james would love to hang out anywhere, only because we will be together... but maybe he would like it even more with a pint or two."

"peter... that boy would follow us everywhere. even if we plot a murder, he'd choose to be there with us."

and then there is remus. remus.

most of the time sirius has to stop and truly think to himself, "what will remus like?"

truth be told, he has not seen them in such a long time, sirius sometimes has this thought that they may feel like foreigners to him now. he knows what they look like. he knows how their voices sound through the phone. he knows that james has a big crush on this red haired girl from university. he knows peter trains every morning with james against his own will.

but what does he knows about remus that remus dares to admit to him outloud? being realistic, not too much.

so sirius keeps repeating the same question, like a mantra in his head, "what will remus like?"

"the louvre, probably, he likes art. but no... that is too cliché for him..."

"headquarters of the communist party? it's nice and it has history. oh, but he will think i want to come off as some know-it-all..."

luckily when they arrive sirius doesn't have to worry about such questions anymore. between what james and remus planned beforehand, their excruciatingly long to-do list covered almost everything you could do for several weeks.

it is james who shows the biggest excitement among them, hugging sirius thrice when they finally meet, the way a true big brother would do. peter seems nervous, as if the city would swallow him. and remus, always sweet remus, who has grown taller than sirius and now sirius has to tilt his head backwards to get a full view on his face.

although they do not hug, their smiles are enough.

the boys are staying at sirius' place, who, since starting university, moved out and now gets to live in a beautiful, perfectly decorated flat just in the center of the city, away from his awful family.

they go out, explore the city, play records at sirius' apartment, smoke a lot and drink a lot. it's always sirius' treat, and even though they offer to pay him back, they forget about it when james and remus have to carry a pretty much wasted sirius to the taxi.

they all have their individual bedrooms (thank god sirius' place is huge), therefore one night, when remus slips under sirius' bedsheets, sirius doesn't know what to do. sure that night they drank heavily as they are used to do, but is remus that drunk to get his own bedroom wrong?

they fall into comfortable silence, until remus speaks, his words a low whisper, coated in sweetness and truthfulness which makes sirius doubt whether he is supposed to hear them or not.

"i missed you a lot."

sirius tries to conceal he's started to feel nervous by slowly rolling to one side. in a gentle motion, as if otherwise he would disrupt the quietness of the moment, he gets the pack of cigarettes that rested on the bedside table.

"want one?" he offers.

"enough for tonight i'd say."

in the end, they share the cigarette. the only sound in the room being them inhaling and exhaling the smoke, with open windows.

"you've grown handsome, you know?" sirius chooses to break the silence, admiting the truth that remained unspoken among the friend group. remus is now the tallest one, his chiseled jawline and soft stare makes him objectively handsome.

"are you hiding your girl from us, or?" sirius inquires, giving the fact that remus had not talked about any girls he was curious about with them.

remus shows the most delicate smile sirius has ever seen. even surrounded by darkness, sirius still manages to contemplate remus' eyes looking straight into his.

"no, not interested at all in girls."

sirius stops asking then.

after that night, they start looking for each other's eyes constantly. james and peter seem to not notice this, or rather choose to ignore it. under the table their knees brush, their bodies craving for some closure.

all of them keep going out. they go to every touristy place in the city, drink and smoke and joke around. they laugh a lot.

one night while on their new favourite place, a famous leftist bar next to sirius' place, remus sits next to sirius, then whispers in his ear, a grin plastered on his face: "viens me faire un bisou."

at first he did not understand his thick english accent while trying to speak in french, but, oh, when the realization hits him... sirius' mind goes blank.

"what?"

"a guy over there said it to me, what does it mean?"

remus is drunk, but so is sirius, and this situation couldn't be worse now that james and peter are looking at them pretty much confused and curious at the same time.

"nothing important, it's a joke about tourists."

sirius can tell that remus doesn't believe him.

and so that very same night remus goes to sirius' bedroom once again.

"what did it mean, sirius? the french phrase, i mean." remus mutters, getting under sirius's sheets with an upsetting casualness.

sirius could lie, of course. but something in the back of his mind tells him not to do it. like a man standing in front of a cliff ready to jump, he responds.

"give me a kiss."

and this time they lose all of their inhibitions.

neither james nor peter will know that sirius admitted what that phrase truly meant. they won't know as well how one of remus' hands caressed sirius' long hair, or how sirius pulled the tallest one closer against him.

it is a secret they keep to themselves. the cigarettes they smoke after daring to touch each other, the long conversations when no one could hear them. breaking a secret vow and creating a new one, with the prospect that they could embrace freely each other again and again.

night after night, remus keeps going to sirius' room. and, as if desire had taken over them, both become bolder.

it is in pub's restrooms where they kiss each other without shame. sometimes the sounds of belts undoing and zippers going down accompany the fervor of the kisses. although this only happens whenever their friends start a heated discussion with at least three other people in the pub because, of course, only james potter could manage to get three or four parisians to discuss in english with them.

if their friends notice the change, they don't say anything, and sirius is glad for that, because remus' hand sometimes rests on his leg, and sirius' door does a pretty loud sound when it's locked.

remus and sirius kiss each other whenever they can, rough and softly, with their hands tracing the other's body. their skin was craving that exact feeling for such a long time, now they cannot stop, asking one to separate from the other would be like trying to separate tissue from bone. it is in those casual moments when they are the same thing: two boys, with complex minds and complex hearts that secretly longed for their forbidden equal to embrace them.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Was I the asshole for kicking my then-partner?

This happened when we were both 21 and both identifying as non-binary.

I and my then-partner "Cody" had recently discussed sexual boundaries as we planned to explore some shared kinks. Both of us had some "hard no" actions that were clearly stated. Some of my "hard no" preferences were due to trauma, and I didn't clarify that because it shouldn't have come up because "hard no" means we are not ever going to try it or suggest trying it.

One of my trauma-based hard boundaries is against being tickled. Cody knew I was strongly opposed to being tickled, because it was on my preference list, and we both said we read each other's list. I read his list and I respected it.

He tickled my foot, I kicked his hand. If you have been tickled OR if you have been triggered you understand that physical responses are not fully voluntary in either of those situations. Cody started whining that I'd "really hurt" him and I had to drive him to the hospital (he can't drive). I yelled at him to get out and refused to take him anywhere (he had other friends with cars, and I too panicked to drive safely even if I had wanted to spend another minute in his presence).

He waited an entire day to get his hand looked at, and when he walked the five minutes to the nearby clinic, they said that there was no indication of break or fracture and that he was barely even bruised. There was no lasting damage to his hand and he definitely did not need to go to the hospital.

He said that he was willing to forgive me for hurting him and that we could keep dating, if I apologized for my "cruel" reaction. I told him I could not trust someone who violated a hard boundary, that there is no way our relationship could continue, and that I am the one who deserved an apology. He told our mutual friends that I injured him, and I got blocked by four people, one of whom sent me a very nasty message calling me abusive before blocking me. Cody never blocked me, and we tried to be friends for a few months, but we also never apologized to each other and eventually stopped talking.

I don't think I am abusive or the asshole for kicking Cody - I think he made a bad and risky choice by tickling the feet of someone who gave a "hard no" to tickling whatsoever. Neither of us ever apologized, so we must both think our behavior was justified somehow. Was I actually the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[justagalwhowrites]

HEY BESTIE I LOVE THE PROMPTS 21 86 94 114 128 146!!! ❤️❤️

OMG HI BESTIE!

Thank you for submitting these! I plan to get to the others, too, but to start, here's prompt 21! @1soff also submitted this prompt, with a bit of flavor to it. I hope you both enjoy this non-canon bit with Joel and Doc!

Outside

A run outside the QZ leads to a confession.

Based on Prompt 21: "I fucking hate you"

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Lavender pairing)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.4K

“You’d better be almost done,” Joel growled, pacing. 

“Oh, hold your horses,” you rolled your eyes, going to the next row of medication. You felt him glare at you through the grate separating the pharmacy from the rest of the store. “Not like you’ve got something waiting for you in the QZ to get back to…” 

Being outside the QZ with just Joel was strange. You’d been going on more and more runs lately but it was always with Joel and Tess or just Tess. Joel tended to avoid you like the plague. 

Which was fine by you. He so obviously hated you that it was hard to be anywhere near him. The glares, the stiff limbs, the fact that you wanted him anyway. It wasn’t fun. 

Going with Tess meant there was a buffer. You and Tess had developed a kind of rapport - maybe not friends but at least friendly. Enough that Joel was usually there as silent muscle that you could pretend wasn’t there at all - or you could if you weren’t hyperaware of his every move. 

But Tess was sick - the flu that had developed into bronchitis - and you’d all but demanded that she stay home. 

“Why?” She demanded as she went into another coughing fit.

“For starters,” you’d said as you got some anti-inflammatories out of the bag you’d brought to Joel’s apartment to check on her after she’d been down for the count for weeks. “You’re coughing too much. Clicker will hear you from miles out and then you’re fucked. More importantly, if you don’t watch yourself, this could turn into chronic bronchitis. If you never shake it, you won’t be well enough to do any runs ever again. And, just a wild guess here, but that’s not what you’re after.” 

“Not exactly,” she coughed again. 

“Then listen to your doctor,” you said, slinging your bag on your arm. “And delay the run a few weeks instead of getting yourself killed.” 

“Can’t,” she took a shaky breath. “We’re on a deadline and we’re pushing it already… You two will have to go without me.” 

“No,” snapped Joel, his arms crossed, shaking his head. “No way in hell I’m haulin’ her around outside the QZ on my own. She’s a fuckin’ liability…” 

“Joel,” she snapped before coughing again. “This is the deal, she makes it so we don’t die from getting fucked up out there, we take her out when she wants to go. So fucking deal with it.” 

He glared at you.

“Are you planning to go back to that town anytime soon?” You asked. “Or another one where I can raid a pharmacy within the next month?” 

“Probably not,” Tess said, her breath rattling in her lungs. “Jesus, I feel like shit…” 

“Then you’re stuck with me, Miller,” you shrugged. “Sorry to continue to be such a disappointment…” 

He ground his teeth and stalked off to his bedroom. 

“Still such a charmer,” you said sarcastically. Tess laughed and then coughed. “Take it easy, OK? You’ve made it this far, you don’t get to just keel over from bronchitis. You should at least… I don’t know… Go out in a fight with infected or something. While saving a kid. Really amp up the heroism.” 

She smiled. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

It had been you and Joel on your own for four days now as you worked your way down the coastline. It was a gorgeous view, at least, with the sound of seagulls and waves on the rocky shore and the smell of salt making you almost forget you had a gun at your hip and your surly ex-boyfriend at your back. 

“We’ve been here too fuckin’ long already,” he snapped. 

“Is there a reason you’re worried or are you just trying really hard to ruin my day?” You asked, opening a bottle and looking at the pills inside. They looked to be in good shape and high quantity. You stuck it in your pack. 

“There are signs of people all over this fuckin’ town,” he snapped. “There shouldn’t be, from what we knew, there shouldn’t be a goddamn soul around. So I’d like for you to stop fuckin’ around so we can get moving.” 

You checked the last few bottles and went back to the grate over the counter. 

“Alright, Miller,” you said. “Get me out of here and we can head out.” 

Joel pried the metal up and open and you climbed on the counter, sliding below it, before Joel dropped it and it slammed back down. 

“Lucky you could even get back there,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t keep comin’ on runs like this, you’re just slowin’ us down and it ain’t worth it.” 

“Tell that to the patients whose anxiety medications I just snagged for the next few months,” you said, smug. He glowered after you, pushing past you and out onto the street. The ocean was churning, dark clouds swelling overhead, the wind making the strands of hair that had come loose from your French braid swirling around your head. You just hoped you’d make it to a good stopping point before a storm blew in. 

Joel seemed particularly paranoid as you started back toward Boston. You’d picked up whatever he’d had to come out here for - he’d made you stand near the rusting cash registers of the small storefront he’d gone into while he went into the back because “who the fuck knows what’s back there and I don’t want to get my throat ripped out worryin’ about you” - and you’d also managed to grab some things that were more fun, too. Some more books for your classroom, some DVDs to sell on the black market in the QZ, some jewelry that would fetch a decent price from the few FEDRA people who could afford it. 

It had been a successful run so far. Of course Joel wanted to try to cut your portion of it as short as possible. 

“See?” You said as you neared the edge of town. “All that worry over nothing…” 

“Don’t fuckin’ jinx it,” he replied, not looking at you. You rolled your eyes just as a man emerged from a house at the edge of town. You steps stuttered to a stop and Joel’s arm swept out and all but threw you behind him before both hands were on his rifle. 

“Hey stranger,” the man ahead of you called, drawing closer. Joel raised the gun. “What’s bringing you through our neck of the woods?” 

“Just passin’ through,” Joel snapped. “Best let us keep passin’.” 

“Afraid I can’t do that,” the man said, a few more men joining him as you peered around Joel’s arm. “You’re in our territory…” 

“Fuck your territory,” Joel snapped. “So fuckin’ worried about it, let us through.” 

“There’s shit there that we’re after,” the man said. 

“So?” Joel snapped. 

“Can’t let you through if you’ve got it,” he shrugged. “So you can give us your packs…” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Or we can take ‘em off your cold, dead bodies,” he continued. “Up to you.” 

“Joel,” you hissed, sticking close behind him. 

“Shut up,” he snapped at you before turning his attention back to the man. “Ain’t happenin’. I don’t have a problem killing every last one of you, so do yourselves a fuckin’ favor and let us pass.” 

The man looked back to his men, saying something. Joel looked back at you. 

“I tell you what to do, you fuckin’ do it,” he said, voice low. “Understand me?” 

“Yeah,” you swallowed, hard. There was a crack of thunder overhead. 

“Good,” he muttered, looking straight ahead again. 

The men started forward, rifles in hand. As they drew closer, two levied them at Joel. He adjusted his grip on his weapon. You took a shaky breath. 

“Gonna need your packs,” the man said, stopping just 20 feet away from you and Joel. 

“Run!” Joel yelled as he started shooting. 

You listened, taking off for the nearest shelter you could see, Joel moving the same direction as he fired. 

“Hide!” He yelled over his shoulder at you as you ducked behind a waist-high wall around a yard. Thunder cracked and rain started to fall as you watched Joel get hit in the shoulder, knocking him back. 

“Joel!” You yelled, instinctively running for him, the sound of gunshots making you flinch. He fired two more shots, dropping the last two men just as you reached him, pulling him to his feet just as the sky opened. 

“The fuck were you thinkin’?” He snapped as he struggled to his feet. “I told you to fuckin’ hide!” 

“Yeah, well,” you snapped back. “Too damn bad.” 

The two of you went into the nearest house. You dropped Joel onto the couch and drew the curtains in case there were any more men out there. It was dumping rain now, the branches of the trees outside whipping in the wind. 

“How fuckin’ stupid are you?” Joel snapped as you helped him take his shirt off to look at his shoulder. You ignored him, going into your bag for your supplies. “Hey! I asked you a goddamn question!” 

“What, you want me to just leave you to die in the street?” You snapped. You sat beside him and gingerly touched around the bullet wound to assess it. He hissed in pain, gritting his teeth. 

“The rules are you listen to me when we’re out here!” He yelled. “I’m not gonna keep haulin’ you around if you’re gonna be that fuckin’ dumb!” 

“If I’m so dumb maybe you don’t want me pulling a bullet out of your shoulder,” you soaked gauze in alcohol and started cleaning the wound. 

“You’re a fuckin’ burden out here,” his eyes were narrowed, hard. “Can’t shoot, can’t listen, you’re useless!” 

You gritted your teeth against the tears that were welling up and threatening to choke you. 

“I’m good at putting you back together when you fuck up!” You snapped as you pressed fresh gauze to the wound and taped it into place. 

“Wouldn’t need you to if you weren’t so fuckin’ stupid!” He yelled. “And I’m tired of always having to take care of you!” 

You sat back from him, not able to stop the tears now. He looked so upset but he was still Joel.  You’d been clinging to him for so long. For so long that it felt like it was your entire life. But it hurt so much now, loving him. Being anywhere near him was painful, so much that it felt like something was taking you apart from the inside out. You knew he didn’t care about you like that anymore but, for some reason, you thought he’d always at least respect you. Think you were worth something. For so long it had seemed like he was the only person who thought you were worth something and, it turned out, you were wrong.

You were so tired of it. You were ready to be done with it, done with all of it. 

“Stay put,” Joel snapped, getting up and grabbing his shirt before he went deeper into the house. 

You ignored him, throwing on your backpack and going out the front door. 

There were no signs of any other men, at least, but it was pouring rain and you were soaked in seconds. The wind whipped around you, strong enough that it made you stumble a bit. You wondered idly if it was a hurricane. That would be appropriate, you thought. With some luck it would take you out to sea and you wouldn’t have to deal with anything else. Wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that Joel hated you so viscerally, wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that you wished you could hate him too, wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that you still loved him so much in spite of it all that you’d let him bleed you dry if he just asked. 

“Hey!” He yelled from behind you. You ignored him and kept walking. “Stop!” 

“Fuck off, Joel!” You yelled back over your shoulder. “Leave me the hell alone!” 

“The hell do you think you’re going?” He snapped, catching up to you and standing in front of you, grabbing you by the shoulders. “I told you to stay put!” 

“And I told you to leave me the hell alone!” You threw his hands off you and ducked around him. 

“Hey!” He yelled again, catching you a lot quicker this time, ripping you around to face him. He was dripping wet, hair soaked. “You tryin’ to get yourself fuckin’ killed?” 

“The fuck does it matter to you for!” You yelled back. “You made it perfectly clear what you think of me…”

“Get back in the fucking house!” 

“NO!” You shoved him back, tears welling up again. “I’m done! I’m done doing this with you, Joel! I love you so goddamn much that I hate it! I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

“Well I don’t hate you!” He yelled back, breathless. You just stared at him. “So just come back…” 

“What do you mean you don’t hate me?” You asked, wiping the rain and tears from your eyes. 

“The hell do you think I mean?” He snapped. 

“I don’t know! You just got done telling me how useless you think I am!” You yelled. It felt good to yell at him, to do SOMETHING besides just love him without being loved in return. “You do nothing but try to shove me away from you, you avoid me as much as you possibly can…” 

“Because I can’t handle fuckin’ losing you!” He yelled back, panting for breath. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, calming himself down. “I can’t… I can’t handle losing you, I can’t… I can’t survive that. I don’t want you out here because I can’t watch you get hurt, can’t watch you die. I… I love you too much, I can’t do it.” 

“You love me?” You asked, voice soft, stepping closer to him. 

“Can’t lose you,” he said, taking your face in his hands. “Please…” 

You leaned into him slowly, gently, and kissed him. His lips were delicate but desperate on yours, all the years of denying each other passing between you in that moment. 

“Please come inside,” he said, barely pulled back from you. “At least until the rain is done. Please, Baby.” 

You nodded. 

“Let’s go inside,” you said. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”