#and decide what to keep and what to change

[xjulixred45x]

Imagine an adult Yuu who arrived at Twisted Wonderland PREGNANT.

This could be considered part of the Yuu! Parent variables (?). Perhaps the poor woman was returning from an early ultrasound (at 2 or 3 months old) when the black carriage hit her, scaring her to death upon her appearance in TWST. She must have thought she was about to be sacrificed to a cult.

I can definitely imagine the Squad characters being much more understanding/soft of this Yuu, especially Ace and Deuce. Ace wouldn't be so malicious at the beginning of the game (I'd like to believe that not even he would be capable of laughing in the face of a pregnant woman), and instead feels obvious guilt because Crowley has entrusted her with a mediocre job.

Deuce, my sweet boy, will set off all his alarm bells. He's the most outraged that the headmaster is forcing a pregnant woman to work ALONE, and if his dorm leader hadn't been so strict in the beginning, he definitely wouldn't let Yuu sleep in a dorm that's falling apart. Has Crowley gone crazy? Does he have no shred of decency?!

Grim probably thought at first that Yuu had eaten her baby, haha, and had to receive the wonderful "birds and the bees" lecture (much to Ace's amusement at Grim's horrified reactions). Let's just say Grim now insists on standing sentry in case Yuu decides to do anything too "dangerous for the baby" (humans are fragile even with magic; he has to take care of his minion!).

Jack, bless him, also tries to help make the ramshackle dorm safer alongside Epel, whether by removing the most rotten parts of the structure, helping clean, assisting with Yuu's errands, etc. Especially when she starts showing more of her bump.

GOD, IMAGINE THE DORM LEADERS!

Riddle was probably the only one who didn't realize Yuu was pregnant until the events of the Savanaclaw episode. And when he found out he almost seriously hurt a PREGNANT WOMAN? Trey and Cater practically had to keep him from banging his head against a wall for half an hour out of embarrassment and shame. He also drafted a LONG apology for Yuu, which was delivered with a giant strawberry cake (and one of those exaggerated bows I KNOW Riddle would do).

Thanks to his mom (for once in his life), Riddle is the most knowledgeable about useful pregnancy stuff! Whenever Yuu goes to Heartslabyul, she has access to calcium- and iron-rich meals (prepared by Trey), and teas that boost her immune system and combat morning sickness. Riddle is careful not to give her things like black tea or rosemary tea, knowing they could have negative effects (if it were up to Riddle, Yuu probably wouldn't walk unaided).

Leona is much more respectful to a female Yuu, we know that, but I don't think he has the energy to be rude, or be especially , well, Leona, to a PREGNANT woman. This ends up bringing out a side of Leona no one thought existed: an almost delicate side. Sure, he's still lazy and sarcastic, but he doesn't say no to Yuu when she asks for help with something, whether it's bringing something to her dorm or dealing with a difficult situation. he dosent even COMPLAIN. what did he do to the real Leona??

We all know Crowley doesn't give Yuu and Grim enough money to live comfortably, let alone considering they could soon have a new member on ramshakle. Yuu is now surprised to find extra money in the dorm after certain visits. Not that he'll admit it, but it makes everyone feel more at ease.

Again, I want to believe Azul wouldn't be capable of leaving a pregnant woman homeless, at the very least he offered her a place to stay in Octavinelle. It turns out the twins (especially Floyd) quickly took a liking to Yuu.

A cute scenario I came up with, when Yuu already has a prominent baby bump, is that she tries to joke with the Leechs that the nickname "shrimpy" doesn't suit her anymore, and that maybe they should change it to "whaley."

AND FLOYD IS LIKE, "Why are you saying that, Koebi-chan? :( Is someone calling you that? Come on, tell me :)"

I think the Octavinelle folks genuinely don't know how human pregnancy works, so they're surprisingly gentle and caring with Yuu (even when the baby is born, I can see Monster Lounge having a kids' menu for them).

Kalim, my god, Jamil is going to have to stop him from giving Yuu a completely equipped nursery for both her and the baby. Ironically, the one who's the most normal about pregnancy (the guy has 30 younger siblings, so he KNOWS about these things) and genuinely knows some home tricks that helped his mother when she was pregnant.

offers to organize a baby shower/gender reveal party! The bad thing is that it ends up being a whole festival with all of Scarabia participating. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

There's no way Yuu, who's already 6-7 months along, will wear the school uniform simply for comfort, so if you need help finding comfortable AND cute clothes, Vil will gladly help! Obviously, he's not as strict or harsh with Yuu due to the circumstances, but he still wants the best for her. Who knows, maybe they can pick out some clothes for the baby in advance.

Idia is afraid to get close to Yuu, not only because of social anxiety, but because of the thought that he might "ruin" the baby in some way. He needs a lot of support from Ortho and Yuu to even allow himself to have normal physical contact with Yuu, and just as he does, the baby kicks. Idia's heart is gone (everyone wants to feel the kicks now, especially Ace, Floyd, and Malleus).

They probably use some STYX or Ortho equipment for some of the baby checks, and he even gives an approximate due date, which feels bittersweet. Even if everyone does their best, Yuu still hoped to have his baby at home, but he doesn't complain when the boys do all this for them. It feels like Home.

Malleus is another who doesn't fully understand human pregnancy and is incredibly intrigued. It doesn't help that Lilia's answers to his questions are even more confusing, so he ends up going straight to the source of his intrigue, Yuu. Malleus is completely mesmerized the first time he hears the baby's heartbeat, completely fascinated by what human life is like compared to fairies/dragons.

That said, he proceeds to "scold" the baby when it kicks Yuu for "hurting its mother," not quite understanding the concept, but he has the spirit. Malleus is very scared of the idea of childbirth once he's educated on it (WHERE will the baby come out? HOW!?) and will probably try to improve his healing magic SOLELY because of that.

All I can say is that if the baby is born in Twisted Wonderland, they'll have a wide array of adoptive siblings, father figures, babysitters, and weird and eccentric uncles who will take very good care of them and its mother. So you can rest easy.

__________

(ESPAÑOL)

Imagínate una Yuu adulta que llego a Twisted Wonderland estando EMBARAZADA

Esto podría considerarse parte de las variables de Yuu! Parent(?)Talvez la pobre mujer estaba regresando de un ultrasonido de los primeros meses (2 o 3 meses) cuando el carruaje negro le paso por encima, dándole un susto de muerte cuando apareció en TWST. La pobre mujer debio pensar que estaba a punto de ser sacrificada a un culto.

Definitivamente puedo ver a los personajes del Squad mucho mas suaves con esta Yuu, especialmente Ace y Deuce. Ace no sería tan malicioso al principio del juego (digo, quiero creer que incluso el no seria capaz de reírse en la cara de una mujer embarazada) y más bien siente una obvia lastima de que Crowley le haya metido en un trabajo mediocre.

Deuce, mi dulce niño, le disparan todas las alarmas. Es el más obviamente indignado de que el director haga trabajar a una mujer embarazada SOLA, y definitivamente si su líder de dormitorio no fuera tan estricto al principio, no dejaría que Yuu durmiera en un dormitorio que se cae a pedazos ¿¡que acaso Crowley perdió la cabeza, no tiene el mínimo de decencia?!

Grim probablemente al principio pensó que Yuu se había comido a su bebe lol, y le tuvieron que dar la maravillosa charla de las “aves y las abejas” (para diversión de Ace por las reacciones horrorizadas de Grim). Solo digamos que ahora Grim insiste en actuar como centinela en caso de que Yuu se le ocurra hacer algo demasiado “peligroso para él bebe” (los humanos son frágiles aun si magia ¡tiene que cuidar a su secuaz!).

Jack, bendito sea, también trata de ayudar en hacer el dormitorio destartalado mas seguro junto a Epel, ya sea quitando las partes mas podridas de la estructura, ayudando a limpiar, ayudar con los mandados de Yuu, etc. Especialmente cuando empieza a mostrar mas la panza de embarazada.

DIOS, IMAGINENSE LOS LIDERES DE DORMITORIO.

Riddle probablemente fue el único que no llego a darse cuenta que Yuu estaba embarazada hasta los eventos del capítulo de Savanaclaw ¿y cuando se enteró que casi lastimo gravemente a una MUJER EMBARAZADA? Trey y Cater tuvieron que físicamente detenerlo de que se golpeara la cabeza contra la pared por media hora por la vergüenza, también redacto un documento LARGUISIMO de disculpa a Yuu, que fue entregado con una gran tarta de fresa (y una de esas reverencias exageradas que SE que Riddle haría).

¡Gracias a su madre (por una vez en la vida), Riddle es el que sabe más de cosas útiles para el embarazo! Cada vez que Yuu va Heartslabyul, tienen acceso a comidas nutritivas en calcio y hierro (hechas por Trey), Tés beneficiosos para el sistema inmune y para combatir las náuseas matutinas, aparte de que Riddle es cuidadoso de no dar cosas como Te negro o romero, sabiendo que podrían tener malos efectos (si fuera por Riddle, Yuu probablemente no caminaría sin ayuda).

Leona es bastante más respetuoso con una Yuu mujer, eso lo sabemos, pero no creo que tenga la energía para ser grosero o especialmente, bueno, Leona, con una mujer EMBARAZADA. Esto termina sacando un lado que nadie creía que existía de Leona, un lado casi delicado. Claro, sigue siendo perezoso y sarcástico, pero no le dice que no a Yuu cuando le pide ayuda en algo, ya sea llevar algo a su dormitorio o con una situación difícil.

Todos sabemos que Crowley no da ni de lejos el dinero suficiente para que Yuu y Grim vivan bien, mucho menos pensando que PODRIAN TENER UN NUEVO INTEGRANTE PRONTO, por lo que Yuu ahora se sorprende después de ciertas visitas, aparece algo de dinero extra en el dormitorio. No es como que lo vaya a admitir, pero todos están más tranquilos de esa forma.

De nuevo, quiero creer que Azul no sería capaz de dejar sin hogar a una mujer embarazada, aunque sea le ofrecería una estancia en Octaville, ya que, además, resulta que los gemelos (especialmente Floyd) se encariñaron con Yuu muy rápido.

Un escenario lindo que se me ocurrió, ya cuando Yuu tiene una panza de embarazada prominente, es que ella trata de bromear con los Leech de que el apodo “camarón” ya no le queda bien, y que a lo mejor tendrían que cambiarlo a “ballena”

Y FLOYD ESTA COMO “¿Por qué dices eso Koebi-chan?  ¿alguien te está diciendo asi? Vaaaamos, dímelo ”

Creo que genuinamente los de Octaville no saben muy bien cómo funciona el embarazo terrestre, por lo que son sorprendentemente gentiles y cuidadosos con Yuu (incluso cuando nace el bebe, puedo ver el Monstre Louge teniendo un menú infantil para ellos).

Kalim, dios mio, Jamil tendrá que detenerlo de regalarle a Yuu absolutamente toda una guardería completamente equipada tanto para ella como para el bebe. Irónicamente el que es el mas normal al respecto del embarazo (el man tiene 30 hermanos menores, el SABE de estas cosas) y genuinamente sabe algunos trucos caseros que le sirvieron a su madre cuando ella estaba embarazada.

¡ofrece organizar un baby shower/ fiesta de revelación de genero! Lo malo es que termina siendo todo un festival en el que participa todo Scarabia. Pero hey, la intención es lo que cuenta.

No hay forma en la que estando ya en los 6-7 meses Yuu use el uniforme de la escuela por simple cuestión de comodidad, por lo que si necesitan ayuda en encontrar ropa cómoda Y bonita ¡Vil le ayudara con gusto! Obviamente no es tan estricto ni duro con Yuu debido a las circunstancias, pero sigue queriendo lo mejor para ella. Quien sabe, talvez puedan elegir algo de ropa para él bebe de adelantado.

Idia tiene miedo de acercarse a Yuu, no solo por la ansiedad social, sino por la idea de que podría “arruinar” al bebe de alguna forma. Necesita mucho apoyo de Ortho y Yuu para siquiera permitirse tener contacto físico con Yuu de forma normal, y justo cuando lo hace, el bebe patea. A Iidia se le salió el alma del cuerpo (ahora todos quieren sentir las pataditas, sobretodo Ace, Floyd y Malleus).

Probablemente usan algo de equipo de STYX o Ortho para algunos controles del bebe, incluso el da una fecha aproximada de nacimiento, lo cual da una sensación agridulce. Aun si todos hacen su mejor esfuerzo, Yuu esperaba poder tener a su bebe en casa, pero no se queja cuando los chicos hacen todo esto por ellos.

Malleus es otro que no entiende el embarazo humano completamente y esta increíblemente intrigado, no ayuda que as respuestas de Lilia a sus preguntas son aún más confusas, por lo que termina lleno a la fuente de su intriga, Yuu. Malleus se queda completamente hipnotizado la primera vez que escucha los latidos del bebe, totalmente fascinado por cómo es la vida humana en comparación a las hadas/dragones.

Eso sí, procede a “reprender” al bebe cuando patea a Yuu por “lastimar a su madre”, no entendiendo bien el concepto, pero tiene el espíritu. A Malleus le asusta mucho la idea del parto una vez que se educa al respecto (¿Qué el bebe saldrá DE DONDE? ¡¿COMO!?) y probablemente trate de mejorar en magia curativa UNICAMENTE por eso.

Solo puedo decir que si el bebe nace en Twisted Wonderland, tendrá un vasto abanico de hermanos adoptivos, figuras paternas, niñeros, tíos raros y extravagantes que lo cuidaran muy bien a él y su madre. Así que pueden estar tranquilos.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[hrrtshape]

　 　reasons why you're waking up in your cr ,

if it's not happening, it's because you’re still treating the 3d like it's anything but your own assumption reflecting back to you. still assuming lack while saying abundance. still looking for signs instead of stepping into the thing as if it's already yours.

nothing external needs to change. your state does. and that can happen in one second, in one thought.

　　you keep checking . . . ౨ৎ　 the second you look over your shoulder to see if it worked, you're signalling it hasn't. assumption doesn't need confirmation. assumption doesn't peek.　 ꒰  what to do , stop asking. stop waiting. decide it's done and get on with your life. keep walking.　

　　subconscious doubts . . . ౨ৎ　　 somewhere deep, under the clean sentences you say out loud, there's a voice. 'what if it's not real?' 'what if i'm not good enough?' it camps out in the marrow, slowing you down before you ever start.　 ꒰  what to do , rewire yourself. not once, not wistfully. daily, methodically. affirm it until it's more instinct than wish.　

　　overthinking the methods . . . ౨ৎ　 you're not assembling a bomb. you're not cracking the human genome. shifting isn't method worship. it's assumption.　 ꒰  what to do , pick what feels natural. raven, lullaby, drift, whatever stops the noise. trust the simplicity. complexity is a coffin.　

　　intellectualising it to death . . . ౨ৎ　 you read every shifting post, watched every youtube guide, diagrammed every method.　 ꒰  what to do , get out of your head and into your body. shifting is sensation before it's strategy.　

　　fear of success or change . . . ౨ৎ　 self-sabotage wears a hundred faces. sometimes it's something that says you're safer in longing than in arrival. the mind clings to its ruins because they are familiar. ꒰  what to do , dig out the rot. write out your fears like you're testifying. remind yourself that change is not exile. you're allowed to cross thresholds.　

　　you want it to feel like magic . . . ౨ৎ　 you expect fireworks. epiphanies. sensations. if it doesn't sparkle, you think it didn't happen.　 ꒰  what to do , stop chasing signs. reality shifts quiet. like changing the channel. no drama, just difference.　

　　impatience . . . ౨ৎ　 you feel ready. you want it yesterday. but checking the oven every two minutes doesn't bake the cake faster. it breaks the heat.　 ꒰  what to do , behave as if it's already yours. embody the arrival. impatience is a leak, seal it.　

　　you think there's a gap . . . ౨ৎ　 a gap between you and your desire. between thought and result. between you and your dr.　 ꒰  what to do , there is no gap. the second you decided, it existed. the delay's a hallucination.　

　　comparing yourself to others . . . ౨ৎ　 watching other shifters score touchdowns doesn't mean you're fumbling. you're running a different play entirely.　 ꒰  what to do , stay on your field. trust your timeline. celebrate every inch forward like you invented it.　

[the-ocean-is-trans]

hey this was so egregiously fucked up that i couldn't scroll past and not say something. I'm going to break down piece by piece why i think this take is hot garbage.

the graphic: I feel like this should go without saying but you have an image equating the nigerian prince scam, a scam that is driven by financial motivation/greed, with porn bots, which aren't even scamming you but are just an inconvenience on this site, to.....people asking for money to survive genocide????????????? im going to get into why its problematic to assume that gazan fundraisers are scams at face value in a moment, but even if they *were* scams I would rather be scammed out of $20 every once in a while than have literally every single person who is experiencing unimagined levels of hell and danger have to worry about being seen as illegitimate because of the actions of those who would capitalize on a tragedy. and if you can't afford the $20 guess what? you don't have to donate and you can keep your fucking mouth shut for free!

I would like to do a line read of your text, starting with "if a stranger comes to your inbox or slides in your DMs asking you for your money with some sob story, no matter how tragic and convincing the story is, they are a scammer". hey op, have you ever had to fundraise to cover a medical procedure? housing? if you havent, you maybe don't know the level of desperation, hopelessness, and fear that come with knowing that your continued ability to survive is in strangers hands. now, again, if you do not have the ability to donate, shutting the fuck up is free, but how would you feel if one of those strangers decided that they were so offended that you even deigned ask for money that they decided to cast suspicion not only you and your needs but anyone else in a similar situation who had to raise money in this manner?

and now let's get to "especially if the story is obviously copied and pasted, formatted in the exact same way" where i will return to what i said in point 1 about unimagined levels of hell and danger. imagine that said hell and danger is being caused by a nation that subjugates the rest of the world for resources to build and hoard wealth. imagine if you asked for money, even the smallest amount helps, from people who lived in that country that has been profiting off of your destruction for generations, and the people who lived there said "the way you asked for money is too similar to how the other people in my inbox have asked for money for me to believe you need it". whether you intend to or not, you are implying that the people of Palestine have to put thought and attention to changing up the message they write asking for help each time they send it, precious time and mental space people surviving genocide do NOT have, so that YOU can feel better. once again, i will reiterate, you personally do not have to donate if you are unable, or frankly even unwilling. what is particularly heinous is you using your platform to say that anyone raising money in this manner should be assumed automatically to be doing so in bad faith. how are you not ashamed of yourself?

one day you will be in need of help from people, some of whom you may not know. this is the society we live in. we are interdependent whether we like it or not. on that day, i hope you are treated in the manner that you have treated others in their moments of vulnerability and need.

sorry to have to tell you this but if a stranger comes to your inbox or slides in your DMs asking you for your money with some sob story, no matter how tragic and convincing the story is, they are a scammer — especially if the story is obviously copied and pasted, formatted in the exact same way as the other 100 bots in your inbox

[thepencilnerd]

hello!! i have an angsty request >:3

in the past dr robby and reader were in a relationship but as life changed they decided to separate. reason why reader broke it off with robby was because she was getting sicker and she didn’t want to burden him years later reader comes into the er in bad shape (chronicle ill) he never knew she was this sick until years after they drifted apart and maybe some fluff at the end

babes you know i LIVE FOR THE ANGST <33

warnings: depictions of chronic illness wc: 1.9k

The ER was buzzing—monitors beeping, the sharp scent of antiseptic hanging in the air, footsteps echoing against linoleum. Robby barely noticed any of it.

He’d just finished dealing with a combative overdose in Bay 5 when Dana called out to him, holding a chart.

"Room Three," she said, a little too gently. "Chronic case. Looks like heart failure. She's not doing great."

He grabbed the clipboard without a second thought. Then stopped cold.

Your name stared up at him in clean block letters.

And his world tipped sideways.

It was as though someone had sucker-punched the air out of his lungs. Four years. Four years of wondering. Of half-written texts. Unanswered calls. A full voicemail inbox, all of them from him. Of dreaming about your laugh and waking up angry in tears. Frustrated at himself. At you. Four years of pretending he didn’t still check your name in the hospital system every once in a while.

And now—now you were here.

Collapsed lungs. Oxygen saturation low. Congestive Heart Failure. Decompensated.

You were dying, and you hadn’t said a word.

The curtain around your bed was drawn, but he pushed through without knocking, hands trembling.

And there you were.

Pale. Eyes sunken. Lips tinged gray-blue despite the oxygen mask over your mouth. You were bundled in hospital blankets, shivering slightly, your hand lax around the call button.

Your eyes opened slowly, drawn by the sound of footsteps.

You saw him—and blinked, like you weren’t sure if he was real.

A choked sigh. You pulled off the mask just enough to speak. "Hey, stranger."

It wrecked him. The rasp in your voice. The half-smile you offered like this was just a casual run-in, like you weren’t hooked up to machines that were keeping you alive. 

He moved closer, too fast. "What the hell, Y/N?"

"Nice to see you too," you murmured, voice dry.

"Don’t," he said sharply, chart forgotten in his hand.

You looked away. "I didn’t plan to be here, Michael."

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before kneeling beside the bed. "Heart failure? You’re in advanced decomp. Jesus—why didn’t you fucking tell me? Why didn’t you call?"

You didn’t answer.

"You left," he said, voice quieter now but still shaking. 

He held your hand instantly, cradling it like it was instinct. His hands felt the same—warm, steady, familiar. Like no time had passed at all.

You swallowed hard, throat bobbing. "I didn’t want you to watch me fall apart."

He blinked. "You think I wouldn’t have stayed?"

"I know you would have," you whispered. "That’s what scared me. You would’ve put everything on hold. Your fellowship. Your life. Your chance to be more than just a caretaker for someone who—" You broke off, breath catching. "Someone who was only going to get worse."

Robby’s other hand came to rest on your arm—warm, solid, familiar. Your body leaned toward the touch before your mind could argue.

"You think I wouldn’t choose you? You really think I wouldn’t have wanted to walk through this with you?"

Tears stung your eyes. "It wasn’t fair to ask."

"You didn’t ask. You just left." His voice cracked at the end.

A long silence stretched between you, thick with everything unsaid.

He squeezed your hand tighter. His thumb brushed against your knuckles, grounding you.

"I never stopped loving you," he said quietly.

Your fingers curled around his. You felt like hell, like your body was a failing house, caving in on itself—but his touch reminded you that some parts of you still worked. Still remembered.

"I’m sorry," you whispered. "For not telling you. For walking away before you had the chance to make that choice."

Robby leaned in, forehead nearly touching yours. "I’m making it now," he breathed.

Your eyelids feel heavy, and suddenly you're back in that cramped apartment with the peeling tile and the humming radiator—the place you used to call home.

It had been raining that night. Heavy and loud against the windows. You remember how the lamplight painted long shadows across the floor, how your suitcase sat half-zipped by the door.

You remember the way Robby looked at you when he walked in from his shift—wet scrubs, messy hair, exhaustion hanging from his shoulders.

But the second he saw your face, he knew.

"You’re leaving," he said.

You nodded. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

He didn’t yell. Didn’t beg. He just stood there, breathing too quietly, like even that hurt.

"I thought we were okay," he said after a minute. "Are we not okay?"

You tried to smile, but it cracked at the edges. "I’ve been… having more episodes. Dizziness. Shortness of breath. My cardiologist says it’s progressing faster than they expected."

Robby blinked. "Okay. Then we fight it. We adjust the meds. We—"

"No," you said, cutting him off too fast. "You adjust. You take care of me. You cancel your interviews, you stay up all night researching when you should be out living your life. And then one day when you wake up next to someone who can’t even walk up a hill without needing to sit down? What then, Michael? I’m not doing that to you."

His expression twisted. "So instead, you choose to leave me? Without giving me a choice?"

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them back. "I’m trying to give you a future. One that doesn’t revolve around watching me wither away in front of you."

"I don’t want a future without you."

You shook your head. "That’s what I couldn’t live with."

He crossed the room, grabbed your wrist—gentle, but desperate. "You don’t get to make this decision for both of us."

You leaned in, let your forehead rest against his. Memorized the warmth of his breath, the way his fingers trembled where they held you.

"I love you," you said. "But I need you to remember me like this. Young and alive. Not dying in a hospital bed."

"No."

"Michael—"

"No," he said again, voice cracking. "God, please. Don’t do this."

His voice broke and kept breaking. He sank down to his knees like his body couldn't hold the grief. Tears spilled fast, falling unchecked down his cheeks, and he reached for you—arms wrapping around your waist, face pressed against your stomach. A sob tore out of him, raw and guttural.

"Stay," he whispered. Then louder, more desperate: "Please—please, let me stay. Let me help you. I’ll do anything, Y/N. I’ll give you everything I have. Just don’t walk away from me. Please."

You fell with him, threading your shaking fingers into his hair, holding him close. He felt like a storm in your arms—chaotic, trembling, terrified.

"I know you would," you whispered, breaking. "That’s the problem."

You closed your eyes, voice barely audible. "You’d give everything for me. And it kills me. Because I love you too much to let you."

You kissed him one last time—slow, aching, full of everything you couldn’t say. His hand slipped into your hair, holding you like he could stop the unraveling.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were red, lips parted like he still couldn’t believe you were really leaving. You rested your hand on his cheek for a second longer—just one more breath, one more heartbeat—before stepping back.

Neither of you spoke.

You picked up your bag. Turned toward the door. Didn’t look back.

—

Later, when the oxygen helped and your vitals stabilized and they moved you upstairs, you didn’t expect him to stay.

But hours passed.

And he did.

You opened your eyes sometime after 3 a.m. to find him sitting in the chair next to your bed, fingers still laced with yours.

You were the first to speak. "You’re not on shift anymore."

"Doesn’t matter."

"You could’ve gone home. Slept in your own bed."

He glanced at you, then looked back down at your joined hands. "I think I’ve spent enough nights in the wrong bed."

Your breath caught.

"You don't have to—"

"I know," he said, cutting you off, voice softer now. "This isn’t about having to do anything." He moved closer and brushed a kiss against your forehead, lingering. "This is about not losing you again."

You turned your face away, voice breaking. "Don’t say things like that."

"Why not?" he asked. "You think I don’t mean them?"

"I know you do," you said quietly. "And that’s what terrifies me."

His brow furrowed. "Y/N—"

"I don’t deserve this," you said, barely louder than a whisper. "I don’t deserve you. I lied to you. I pushed you away. I chose to disappear. And you’re still here, willing to throw everything away just to sit beside me while I—" You cut yourself off, tears welling. "I don’t want you wasting your life loving someone who might not even have much of one left."

Robby cupped your face in both hands, gently, like you might shatter if he held too tightly. "I’m not wasting anything. You’re the one thing I’ve ever been sure about."

You couldn’t stop the tears this time. "I don’t want to be your burden."

He leaned closer until his forehead pressed against yours. "You’re not. You never were and you never will be. Let me be here. Please."

His thumb brushed away a tear. "Let me love you."

You gave in then. Let yourself fall forward, into his arms. He wrapped himself around you instantly, warm and steady, holding you like you were something sacred. Your body fit against his like muscle memory, like no time had passed.

He smelled the same. That subtle mix of soap, sweat, and something inherently him—clean and grounding. Your nose pressed into the crook of his neck, and it hit you like a wave.

And you felt the same to him. Fragile, yes, but still familiar. Still his.

His arms tightened around you, one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, the other stroking the back of your head. You buried your face in his shoulder, clung to his shirt, and let yourself cry.

He didn’t try to stop it.

Didn’t let go.

And when the tears slowed, and you felt his lips press gently against your temple, you breathed in the quiet between you. His scent. His presence. His promise.

"I missed you," you whispered.

"I never stopped thinking about you," he murmured. "Not for a second."

You pulled back just far enough to look at him—really look. He looked tired, yes, but soft around the edges now. Open. Hopeful.

You touched his cheek. "Okay," you sniffled. "You can stay."

The way he smiled at you then—soft and disbelieving—felt like sunlight after a long winter.

He kissed your knuckles. Then your brow. Then the tip of your nose.

Then, slower, more reverent—he kissed your cheek. The corner of your mouth. And finally, your lips. It was soft, tentative, but steady. Like he needed you to feel it. Like he’d been holding it in for years.

You melted into it, a shaky laugh breaking through your tears.

"We’ll take it one breath at a time," he whispered against your lips.

You nodded, forehead resting against his. For a while, you just breathed together—quiet and close. His thumb traced slow, lazy circles against the back of your hand.

"Tell me when you’re tired," he murmured.

"I’m always tired," you whispered, a soft smile tugging at the edge of your mouth.

"I’ll be tired with you."

He shifted, carefully, until he was half-tucked into the bed beside you, mindful of your lines and monitors. You leaned into him, head on his chest, and let his heartbeat calm your own.

"I love you," you murmured into the fabric of his shirt.

His hand found yours beneath the blanket, fingers curling tight. "And I love you—more than anything."

You smiled against him, small and real. "Even now?"

"Always."

And in that quiet hospital room, tangled together and half-lit by morning, you let those words hold you—finally, fully—with nothing left to hide and everything to bare.

[megalony]

Dad's Coming Home

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine I had a little idea for and as I've had a few requests for some more deaf! reader I decided to include one with Eddie for a change.

I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005 @mbioooo0000 @amara-mars

@teenwolfbitches28 @mandmilovehim @jooniesbears-blog

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is on shift, he gets a call from the kids asking him to come home. His eldest is having a bad seizure and they need help.

(Deaf! reader)

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie grinned around the toothbrush clasped between his teeth and his chest vibrated with a chuckle when he tilted his head down. He could feel a tiny fist tapping and bashing against his bare chest and when that soft hand began to rub up and down his chest, Eddie couldn't help but squirm at the ticklish feeling it created.

It was almost as if the newborn in his arm knew exactly what she was doing and exactly where to nudge Eddie and tickle him.

And when her head turned to the side and Eddie felt her lips pressing against his skin instead, it felt like she was trying to kiss him.

He made sure to keep his youngest girl steady in his left arm and his thumb glided up and down her leg as he jostled and rocked her in his arm. Tilting his head down, Eddie swirled his mouth out and tossed his toothbrush back into the holder in front of the mirror.

"Okay, come on baby girl."

He carefully readjusted Marie so her cheek was pressed against his bare shoulder and she was curled up into his upper chest. His hand cradled the back of her head and ruffled the soft wisps of hair she had and when he started to walk out the bathroom, he turned his head to kiss her temple.

He smiled to himself as his nose nudged against her hair that felt like cotton wool. Marie was much like Chris had been when he was born in the sense that both of them had very little hair. Not like Florence, when their eldest had been born Eddie had been shocked at the volume of fluffy hair his girl had.

His thumb began to stroke up and down the back of her head and the nape of her neck as he headed down the hall back towards the bedroom.

The smile on Eddie's face melted into something sweeter when he headed into the bedroom and looked ahead of him. His sights set on his wife instantly and for a moment, he stood just over the threshold of the doorway, content in watching her for a few seconds or more.

The way she lolled her head from left to right as if she were preparing to enter some kind of dance. The way her hips swayed in tandem with her head and shimmied to either side made her look like a dancer. And he could hear her humming. Not loud, not enough to be classed as singing a tune or loud enough for anyone else to hear, but just enough that Eddie could pick up on the quiet sound as if they were vibrations he could see through the air.

He watched her hands glide up to gather up her hair into a loose, quick style at the back of her head so it wasn't in her way. And Eddie watched the look of surprise that flooded her face and caused her lips to part when she turned on the spot and suddenly caught him staring. Something she should have been used to by now.

With Marie held against his chest with his left arm, Eddie moved his right hand out to point at (Y/n) before he pressed his fingers and thumb together in front of his mouth, pulling them away and opening his palm up. It was hard to sign with one hand and whenever he did, Eddie sometimes interpreted little quirks that weren't proper signs. Things they had picked up and stuck to when the kids were little and couldn't sign properly.

He murmured "Sounded pretty," after the small sign he did and he loved how (Y/n) ducked her head down and looked up at him through her lashes.

She hadn't realised she had been humming.

With (Y/n) being deaf, she couldn't hear the words she tried to say and sometimes she found herself humming or making little noises without realising it. She often worried if she was speaking too quietly or too loud whenever she talked to people, but it was something she didn't tend to worry about when she was at home with her family.

And whenever she hummed, she always realised because she would find Eddie smiling or just staring at her with that glazed look in his eyes like he had been cast under a spell.

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and looked down towards the baggy maternity shirt she was wearing and tried to smooth out the wrinkles and creases. Marie was only three weeks old, so for the time being (Y/n) was living in the stretchy, comfy maternity clothes she had stocked up on, and sometimes some of Eddie's lounge wear.

When she looked up again, she held one and near her mouth and the other out in front of her. She pressed her fingertips against her thumb and moved her hand near her mouth before she pointed at Marie.

"No, I fed her already." Eddie shook his head and looked down at Marie once he'd finished speaking. He had fed her while he had been up, he thought it would be one less thing for (Y/n) to do since he would be going to work soon.

This week back at work had almost killed Eddie, both because of the change in routine and the strain of being away from his family again.

He felt like he wasn't doing very much when he went to work and was leaving (Y/n) at home with four kids to look after.

When (Y/n) nodded, Eddie headed over towards the bed and carefully laid Marie down in the cot adjoined to the side of the bed. He kissed her temple and ran his hand over her chest for a few seconds until he was certain she was going to settle. Hopefully she would get a few more hours of sleep before she would wake and need more attention.

Eddie found it endearing how during the night, he often woke up and found (Y/n) laid with her hand on Marie's chest. It was her way of knowing whether or not their baby was asleep or crying and needing a feed or a change.

(Y/n) couldn't hear when Marie cried. With each child they had, (Y/n) had learned her own ways and adapted. She sometimes reached out and laid with her hand on her baby's chest so she would feel when they cried and needed her. Other times she had just adapted her sleep routine and woke up every two hours constantly so she could check and do feeds and changes through the night.

It got easier each time and when Eddie wasn't working nights, he would hear the baby and that would let (Y/n) know to wake up too.

"You going to work now?" (Y/n) curled her hands into fists and pressed the top of her right fist up against her left wrist to sign work. They always used a mixture of sign and speech when they were at home, it was just what came naturally to them all.

And Eddie knew if (Y/n) was nervous or uncomfortable when they were out because she would switch to sign and wouldn't dare speak.

Turning around, Eddie moved over to (Y/n) until there was less than a foot of space between them. His lips curved into a tired smile and he nodded as he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. He felt her hands settling on his biceps while he nudged his nose against hers and leaned down to capture her in a kiss.

He didn't want to go to work. If he could, he would stay home with them all, especially since the kids weren't at school this week. He always felt like he was missing out or doing something wrong when he went to work and the kids weren't at school.

(Y/n) turned her head so she could nuzzle her face into Eddie's neck and she looped her arms loosely around his shoulders as she leant forward into his chest. It had been lovely to have Eddie home for two whole weeks. No one rang him to call in favours or swap shifts or get him to cover emergency shifts. He didn't have to zoom off or disappear for a night shift, he got to be home with the kids and put them to bed and take them to the park and spend time with their newest addition.

She knew none of the kids were happy that Eddie was going back to work, they had gotten used to him being back in a home style routine with them.

When she felt Eddie's chest vibrating, (Y/n) lifted her head and leaned back a little so she could focus on his blushing red lips.

"You gonna miss me?"

Her lips quirked into a grin and she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Very much." She stole another kiss from his lips, savouring the touch until Eddie pulled back and tilted his head back.

She felt his chest vibrate, indicating he was either sighing or growling and she watched his brows raise before he looked down at her with that quirk at the corners of his eyes. She watched his lips move until he muttered "Flo," and ticked his head to one side.

Their eldest was calling out for him, which was a novelty in itself. The kids had all grown up using sign language as well as speech and they knew calling out for (Y/n) while they weren't in the same room wasn't going to achieve anything. It had been drilled into them to hurry into whatever room their parents were in if they wanted their attention. Or they could wave their hand if they were in the same room, (Y/n) didn't class that as being rude, it was them trying to reach out to her and that was fine.

But Florence and Chris were starting to call out for Eddie now if they weren't in the same room. It was a habit Lottie hadn't gotten into yet as she was still young.

With a lasting kiss to her lips, Eddie squeezed her hips and parted from her so he could leave the room.

He trailed down the hall until he reached the girls' room and poked his head around the door. He wasn't expecting both of them to be awake this early, considering they didn't have school and neither of them were morning people.

Lottie was sat on her bed, still in her pyjamas with a storybook open in front of her but she looked up and grinned when Eddie came into the room. The four year old was Eddie's shadow, she followed him everywhere even when he was just doing the washing or tidying up or trying to fix something around the house. Wherever he was, Lottie would be there too.

He looked across the room to see Florence sat up on the side of her bed, her head hanging down and her arms flopped on her knees. The eldest looked like she thought she was going to be sick or as if she was a robot that was powering down already.

Her strange stance alone made Eddie shiver and his features pulled into a frown as he moved forward and crouched down in front of her. His hands settled on her knees and his head angled to one side as he waited patiently for her to lift her head and look at him.

"You okay Carino?"

Florence slowly lifted her head and Eddie didn't like the half-lidded expression on her face or the dreary look in her eyes. His hand reached out to cup her cheek and he brushed his thumb beneath her eye as he waited for her to explain.

"Head hurts, dad." Florence leaned into his touch and almost lost her balance as she tried to nudge her temple into his hand to signal the problem.

She heard Eddie sigh and she felt him lean a little closer to her as both hands now cupped either side of her face and he tilted her head back so they were level. He looked at her eyes and felt her temple while he pursed his lips.

"Do you feel one coming?" When she shook her head, Eddie kissed her temple and nudged her back a little.

Since she was seven, Florence had been diagnosed epileptic and had suffered various types of seizures since then. She was thirteen now and the main type of seizures she suffered were absent ones. There had only been one time when Florence had a strange type of seizure where she had walked around like she had been sleepwalking.

She couldn't always feel or sense them coming, but sometimes she got little warning signs. Aggravating pain behind her eyes, a stormy headache. Tired limbs that felt too heavy to walk or sometimes she felt too groggy to move, those were all little tell tale signs, but it could take minutes or hours for a seizure to happen.

"You're not burning up, but you don't look well. Wanna stay in bed today?"

Eddie could see that she tried to nod, but it was too much effort and it made her head ache. He gave her a little nudge and let her flop back down on the bed and once she was laid on her side, Eddie dragged the covers back over her.

"I'm heading to work soon Carino, I'll tell mum you don't feel well."

He pushed up to his feet after pressing a kiss to her temple and he moved across the room to pull the curtains closed. Bright sunshine wasn't going to make her feel any better.

When he turned around, Eddie moved over to the smaller bed across from Florence and reached out for Lottie. She was frowning up at Eddie now that the room was cast in darkness and shadows. She couldn't see the pictures or the sensory pieces in her sensory book now.

The four year old picked up her book and promptly shook it up at Eddie with a small whine to make her point that she couldn't see. But she ceased the moment Eddie scooped her up and sat her on his hip.

"You can read in the front room, baby. Let Flo sleep." He pecked her temple and grabbed her book. It would be better for Florence to try and get some sleep and be on her own rather than having Lottie giggling and rummaging around in their room.

He reached down before he left the room and trailed his fingertips along Florence's cheek, smiling softly when she reached out to hold onto his wrist.

"I'll see you later Carino, call me if you need me."

Eddie was used to the kids calling while he was at work, they would call before they went to bed or if they weren't feeling well or if he was on a long run of shifts and they wanted to speak to him.

And when (Y/n) missed him or needed to talk to him she would Facetime him. Eddie loved it when she did because he didn't always have to worry about someone hearing their conversations since the station was usually crowded and bustling with people. If he spoke to (Y/n) over Facetime he usually whispered because as long as he pronounced his words, it didn't matter how quiet he was. And when he used sign language, almost no one in the station knew what he was saying so it was like they were speaking in their own private language.

He jostled Lottie on his hip and closed the bedroom door behind him as he walked out into the hall and headed through into the kitchen.

Once he got there, Eddie carefully sat Lottie down on the counter and kissed her temple. He watched (Y/n) flick the kettle on but when she turned and looked over her shoulder, she frowned.

"Flo okay?"

"Headache, she's gonna sleep for a bit longer." Eddie pointed to his temple before he leaned down and kissed Chris's forehead when the ten year old hugged him as he walked into the kitchen.

(Y/n) nodded and reached up to look through the medicine cabinet in front of her. She grabbed a sachet of painkillers and moved to get a bottle of juice from the fridge before she turned to Chris.

"Take to Flo please."

"Okay." He turned and backtracked out of the kitchen to pass along the items to his sister. Chris knew he would be the messenger today while Florence was in her room and he didn't mind.

Reaching out, Eddie clamped his hand down on the counter beside Lottie and moved his other hand to his hip as he looked across at (Y/n).

"You gonna be okay if I go to work? It's a long shift today."

Eddie looked at (Y/n) and bit his lower lip, trying to hide the anxiety in his eyes because he was going on a twenty-four hour shift and wouldn't be home until early tomorrow morning. He never liked to leave when any of the kids weren't well, it played on his mind when he was at work and he couldn't settle until he was back home to look after them all. And it wasn't just Florence, (Y/n) had the baby now and Chris and Lottie in between since none of them were at school or nursery.

It made Eddie feel guilty for going to work and leaving (Y/n) with all four of them to look after when Florence wasn't well. If she started to have seizures today (Y/n) would have to look after her in between settling and tending to Marie. And Eddie knew his wife was more than capable, but he didn't want to leave her to do everything. Not when she'd only just had a baby three weeks ago.

"We'll be fine, you go."

It was too short notice to call in for the day and it wouldn't be fair when the station always needed as many hands on as possible. (Y/n) could take care of the kids, Florence and Marie would need a bit more tending to but at least Chris and Lottie would be helpful.

"We call if we need you." (Y/n) curled her fingers until only her pinkie and thumb were sticking out and she moved her hand to her ear before she pointed across at Eddie.

One of the kids would call him if they needed anything, but they both knew it was more than likely that the kids would simply ring to talk to him and see how his day was going rather than to ask anything of him.

(Y/n) moved over until she was stood in front of him and she kissed his neck just below his ear where his sweet spot was and felt him shiver beneath her touch. She knew he was a worrier but he didn't need to panic, they would all be fine and here waiting for him tomorrow when he came home.

"Okay," His hand moved out to cup her face so he could kiss her before she unravelled her arms from around his waist to let him move.

A grin lit up Eddie's face and adrenaline shot through his stomach when he watched (Y/n) lean her waist back against the counter and watched her hold one hand up. Her other hand gripped the counter behind her while her right hand held up with her middle and fourth fingers pressing down into her palm. Leaving her other digits sticking up, and she moved her hand from left to right.

Love you.

"Love you too." He murmured and stepped close again to steal another kiss. He found his hands reaching out for (Y/n)'s hips despite knowing that if he didn't go get his shirt and get moving soon, he was going to be late for work.

He pressed another kiss to her lips before he felt (Y/n) tapping his shoulder and when he opened his eyes, he found her smiling and pointing behind him.

Eddie turned to look behind him and a chuckle left his lips when he looked at Lottie. The four year old was frantically doing the same sign as (Y/n) had done a second ago. She wanted the same kind of reaction.

She wanted a cuddle and a kiss before Eddie went to work.

***

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) leaned against the pillows and closed her eyes that were crying out for sleep, despite the fact that her mind wasn't ready to shut down just yet.

She continued to pat her hand against Marie's back and rub circles against her skin to try and soothe and wind her to get her to go back to sleep.

She could feel the newborn's lips against her shoulder and she could feel each tepid breath Marie let out. (Y/n) knew all the different vibrations, she knew when that rapid vibration in a baby's chest meant they were crying and when the mellow feeling signalled they were asleep or settling down.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what time it was. All she knew was that it was late and she hadn't managed to get to sleep yet. Around the time (Y/n) but Chris to bed and checked on Florence, she had been tired enough to drop down and sleep right then and there. Not now. Now her mind felt wide awake despite the fact that she was well overdue some sleep.

With a deep breath, she tried to recline and slouch back into the pillows and get comfy again. She had fed and winded Marie, hopefully the newborn would go back down for a few hours and (Y/n) would be able to catch some sleep with her.

She tried closing her eyes and sinking down into the covers with Marie now on the centre of her chest to try and get her to settle too. She pressed her lips against the top of her daughter's head and ran a hand slowly up and down her back.

(Y/n) tried clearing her mind to see if she could sleep, but she just had a feeling that it wasn't going to happen.

Her eyes opened once again but this time she stayed slouched down because she could feel that Marie wasn't crying anymore. The little girl was finally breathing softly against (Y/n)'s chest and was wriggling and trying to get comfy. She would settle soon.

(Y/n) thought about putting the tv on for a while, it wasn't as if she would have the volume on anyway so it wouldn't disturb any of the kids.

But her head turned to the left and she glanced down at the phone beside her on the bed. Even though she couldn't hear her phone, it was set to vibrate so (Y/n) could feel the vibrations when her phone was in her pocket or beside her in bed.

One of the cameras in the house was sensing movement.

They had cameras in each room in the house because it was an easy way for (Y/n) to keep checking on the kids, especially during the night if Eddie was at work. If the kids were awake and moving around their rooms or trying to put the tv on, or if they were sick and they needed (Y/n), they didn't have to get out of bed to come and get her. She could check the cameras or just get the alerts on her phone for where there was sensor movement in the house, and she could get to the kids and make sure they were okay.

It was great for the front door too. They had a bell that flashed a light in the hallway so (Y/n) knew if the light went red, someone was at the door. But having a camera doorbell connected to her phone meant she could be in any room in the house and know someone was there at the door.

A sigh passed her lips and she reached over to pick up her phone, squinting through the darkness and the bright glaring shine on her phone to see what sensor was going off.

The one in the girls' room. The pair of them should have been fast asleep by now, Lottie had been put to bed a few hours ago and Florence hadn't been feeling well all day. She spent the majority of the afternoon on the sofa and she had been asleep in bed when (Y/n) last went to check on her.

One of the girls was up and moving about and (Y/n) guessed it would be Florence, probably needing the toilet. But since she was awake, she might as well check that they were both okay.

(Y/n) barely sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed before the bedroom door swung open. Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she looked across to see Lottie stood in the doorway.

The four year old hurried across the carpet until she was stood at (Y/n)'s side next to the bed. There was a wild look in her eyes and she was practically shaking as she stood there with her thin tendrils of hair askewed around her head making her look like Medusa.

Her small lips were parted into a round shape and she began shaking her hands for a moment like she was panicking and couldn't remember how to sign.

"What's wrong?" (Y/n) tried to keep Marie tucked into her chest while she narrowed her eyes and leaned forward towards Marie whose eyes were petrified.

The four year old held her hand out and pressed her index finger and thumb together with the rest of her fingers sticking up. F, meaning Florence.

She then pressed her left hand to the middle of her chest and began moving her hand from left to right while she hovered her right hand over her temple with her middle finger touching her temple. She moved both hands back and forth. Sick.

"Flo not well." She repeated the signs again and muttered her sister's name a few more times until (Y/n) nodded and clearly got the hint. Florence wasn't feeling well.

"Okay, okay."

(Y/n) swiftly got to her feet and leaned across to settle Marie down in the crib attached to the side of the bed. She hoped Marie wouldn't become distressed and start crying again because (Y/n) might not be able to settle her for a while if Florence was being sick.

She reached out to rest her hand on Lottie's shoulder, following the four year old out the room as she was practically running to show (Y/n) what was happening.

(Y/n) flicked on the hallway light as they passed and once they got to the open door, she turned on the bedroom light.

She didn't like what she saw.

Florence was seizing, and she had fallen out of bed.

A quiet rendition of "Sit down," passed (Y/n)'s lips and she hooked her hands beneath Lottie's arms, lifting her up so she could move and set her down on her bed on the right side of the room. She didn't want Lottie trying to help or getting in the way and getting hurt.

Once she was out the way, (Y/n) turned and went down on her knees beside Florence. Her eldest girl was on her right side with her right arm bent oddly beneath her, she had her forehead bashing and pressing down into the carpet and one leg was still half hanging off the edge of the bed. The cover was tangled around her legs and waist showing she had fallen out of bed with a crash.

It had been over two months since Florence had suffered a clonic seizure like this.

"Come here Flo." (Y/n) tried to steady herself and take a deep breath as she shuffled closer.

Her hands reached out and she quickly unravelled the cover from around Florence's legs and waist and tossed it further back on the bed so it was out the way. She then held onto the back of Florence's ankle, feeling just how badly her daughter was shaking and spasming. She gently pulled and tried to shift her so she was laid on the floor and not twisted at an odd angle like that which would no doubt hurt her in many places if she stayed like that much longer.

Her hand reached out to cup Florence's cheek and she tried to look down at her but her eyes were rolled to the back of her head, only the whites of her eyes were visible. Each breath she took looked strained and her mouth was starting to froff, but she was still breathing which was a relief.

(Y/n) shuffled backwards a little so she could nudge Florence along with her as she was laid far too close to the bed frame and the side table which she might well have whacked her head against during the struggle.

Something akin to "Oh baby," left (Y/n)'s lips and she held onto Florence's shoulder so she could carefully reach beneath her and move her right arm which was pinned between her chest and the floor. She needed to try and stretch both arms out so she didn't hit herself during the seizure.

But (Y/n)'s lips curled into a frown and shivers ran throughout her blood when she looked down at her daughter's arm.

It didn't look right. Florence's right wrist looked out of place and it was starting to swell. Despite the way her arms were tremoring and rattling back and forth, her wrist had clearly been hurt during the fall or due to how she had landed on the floor.

(Y/n) tried her best to look and assess the joint and she could feel it wasn't in place, and she wondered if one or two of her fingers were also out of place with how oddly bent they seemed.

She quickly let go of her hand and laid her arms out in front of her again when Florence began to shake and her chest started to convulse. She was going to be sick. (Y/n) moved round once again and shifted until she was kneeling behind Florence and she pressed her hand against the back of her daughter's neck to tilt her head forward just in time as she began to throw up.

When she lifted her head, (Y/n) saw that Lottie was perched on the end of her bed, arms wrapped around her knees and a twisted, unsettling expression on her face as she watched her sister throw up and shake like she was possessed.

Reaching one hand out, (Y/n) curled her index finger and thumb into a C shape before she pointed towards the door and muttered Chris's name. Lottie needed to go and wake him up.

(Y/n) was going to have to call an ambulance. Florence might well have gotten a few more injuries from her fall and in the very least she had done something to her wrist. She would need to get checked out and seen by a doctor. And (Y/n) couldn't call for help and try to sit with Florence and look after her at the same time.

Her right hand stayed cupping the back of Florence's neck while her other hand began to glide up and down her waist to try and comfort her. She didn't know whether her daughter was somewhat conscious or if she couldn't hear or process anything. But on the off chance that she was conscious, (Y/n) wanted to comfort her and make sure she knew she was being looked after.

Each breath (Y/n) took felt as shaky as Florence's quaking chest and rapid breathing.

She had stopped throwing up, finally, but (Y/n) kept her hand on the back of her daughter's head just to be safe. She didn't want her trying to toss her head back during the seizure and starting to choke if she threw up again.

She hated to see each muscle in Florence's body tense and writhe. She hated how her throat pressed out and strained like she was presenting her neck to be slashed. It was awful to see her fingers bending and contorting and her arms straight out in front of her like a ballerina. Her heels were bashing against the floor in a manner that would surely leave bruises and the back of her calves kept whacking into (Y/n)'s knees, not that she cared at all.

Seeing her like this made (Y/n) think back to when Florence first got diagnosed. The teachers thought she was daydreaming in class when she would go mute and stare off into the distance, unresponsive. This happened two or three times before it then occurred at home and (Y/n) panicked, knowing that wasn't like her girl. And then when she collapsed at a family party in a full clonic seizure, the doctors confirmed with scans.

It had been awful to see Florence writhing and jerking on the floor when she was seven. So small yet thrashing around and gasping and shaking, it brought (Y/n) to tears almost every time.

She lifted her head when movement caught her eye and she watched Chris trot into the room. One hand was rubbing his eyes, nudging his glasses up near his temple where his curls were roaming wild around his head. But once he looked down and realised why Lottie had abruptly shaken him awake, his expression changed to one of fright and anguish.

He stood to one side near Florence's thrashing legs so he was somewhat close to their mum while Lottie moved around him and clambered up onto Florence's bed instead. That way she could be close to (Y/n) without the risk of getting in the way of Florence.

(Y/n) reached her hand out and grabbed Florence's phone that had been resting on the side table, and she held it out towards Chris.

Once he took the phone and frowned in confusion, (Y/n) held her hand out with her fingers spread and she pressed her thumb to her temple before pulling her hand away. Dad.

She then pressed her thumb and pinky near her ear before repeating the two signs until Chris got the message. Call dad. She didn't want him calling the emergency line until they had tried to get hold of Eddie first. Because if the team were available, (Y/n) needed them here.

It would be easier to sign with Eddie and Buck than trying to get the kids to interpret for her to strangers. And she would need someone to stay with the kids and someone to be with Florence. Otherwise (Y/n) would have to take all the kids, including the baby, down to the emergency room past midnight and wait there until Eddie could get off shift and come to help.

Chris quickly nodded and scrolled through his sister's phone until he found their dad's contact. His eyes roamed around the room, desperate to find something to focus on because he hated to see his sister having a seizure and he knew it wasn't nice for her to be stared at in this state.

Relief bubbled up in (Y/n)'s stomach as she watched Chris intently and saw the spark light up his eyes and he nodded. Eddie had answered the phone.

"Flo it's nearly half one in the morning. You'd better have a good reason for calling this late." There was a hint of panic and a flood of concern dripping from Eddie's voice that sang down the line to Chris.

It was late, Eddie wasn't used to getting phone calls past midnight like this when he was at work, not even from (Y/n). And Florence was thirteen, she wasn't supposed to be up this late, not even when she had no school in the morning.

"Dad, it's me."

"Chris? Buddy why are you calling me from Flo's phone, what's happening?"

When Chris looked down at his mum, he shrugged his shoulders because he wasn't altogether sure what he was supposed to say. Was he meant to ask Eddie to come home? Did he ask him to bring the whole team down here? Were they just calling for advice about Florence, because she had suffered seizures before and they didn't always have to bring Eddie home because of them.

(Y/n) carefully let go of Florence and held her left arm out in front of her chest and with her right hand flat, she started moving her hand back and forth over her wrist like she was pretending to cut her arm. She repeated the sign for dad before doing the same cutting motion again. Dad busy.

(Y/n) murmured "He out?" so Chris would ask if Eddie was on a call. If he was, they would just have to update him on the situation and switch to calling 911. But if the team weren't busy, (Y/n) would ask if they could come and help.

"Mum said are you busy?"

"We're not out on a call, no. Tell me what's happening please." Eddie's hand moved to his hip and his head tilted to one side as he stepped away from the kitchen so he was more towards the balcony.

Something was clearly going on if (Y/n) was asking the kids to call rather than trying to Facetime Eddie herself. Either she wasn't well or there was a bad situation happening and she wasn't able to come to the phone. Either way, Eddie wasn't sure he was going to like what he heard next. His heart was already hammering away at his ribs in panic of what was about to be said.

"Flo's seizing." Chris dared to glance his eyes back down towards his sister and he cringed at seeing her bent arms bashing into the carpet.

He watched his mum try and gather Florence's hair and hold it behind her head, smoothing it away from her face almost as if she was trying to settle her to sleep. He watched (Y/n) lean over Florence and run her hand up and down her arm to try and soothe her and he wondered if his mum knew she was hushing and humming as she did so.

"How bad?" It had to be bad if (Y/n) was asking Chris to call Eddie for help, but Eddie still needed to know the details.

Chris kept the phone pressed against his ear and he moved his free hand until his fingers were pressed against his mouth. He then pulled his hand away and turned his palm face down. Bad.

(Y/n) nodded and pointed to the bed before she rolled her index finger in a circle and pointed to the floor, indicating that Florence had fallen out of bed. That was a bad indicator in itself.

"Bad, she fell out of bed."

When (Y/n) waved her hand to get Chris's attention, he looked back down at her and turned a little so he was facing her, ready to watch what she was about to sign. She curled both hands into fists and held them out together in front of her with her thumbs touching. She then pulled her hands away as if she were snapping an invisible twig.

(Y/n) repeated the motion and then leaned forward to point to Florence's right wrist.

"Mum thinks she broke her wrist." Chris shivered and coiled in on himself when he heard the growl that left Eddie's lips.

"Shit! Alright, alright is she still seizing now?"

A deep sigh rumbled past Eddie's lips and his free hand moved from his hip to tangle in his hair. He reached his hand out and waved over towards Bobby who was just about to sit down at the dining table, a mug of hot coffee cradled in his hand.

They were going to have to take this call. Eddie couldn't have anyone else going to his house trying to blunder in and sort this. It was his daughter. He could assess her and get her to hospital, and he would need to so Florence wasn't on her own as they couldn't drag all the kids down to the hospital with them.

"Yeah, she's been sick too."

"Tell mum me and the team are coming home to you now, okay? We won't be long, I'll pass the phone to uncle Buck and you keep talking to him and tell him what's happening. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay," Chris looked over towards (Y/n) and held his hand out, pressing his thumb to his forehead and pulling away. Before he then curled his fingers to his palm so only his index finger was stuck out and his hand was held out in front of him. He then coiled his hand up towards his face. "Dad's coming home."

It was strange to Chris that he was the one signing and interpreting for (Y/n). Whenever they went out or they were with friends and (Y/n) didn't feel comfortable to speak, it would be Florence who interpreted for her if people couldn't sign.

Florence would be the go-between. She would phrase the signs (Y/n) made and then sign responses to (Y/n) if people were talking a bit too fast or simply to make it easier for their mum. She was the eldest, she was the most accomplished at sign language- other than Eddie. Whereas Chris had to take his time with signing to his mum because of his cerebral palsy and his signs were shaky.

A lot of the time Chris and (Y/n) used their own pantomime version of sign language. Simple signs and gestures that they had created which were easier for Chris to do which they both understood.

He felt older right now, like he was being given responsibility and that he was helping with being the go-between for his parents.

It didn't take long for the team to get down to Eddie's house, but to Eddie, it felt like they had taken hours.

He had rushed around the station like a headless chicken, telling the team they had to go, telling them what was happening and what kit they would need. He travelled in the ambulance with Chimney, his foot rapidly tapping on the floor and his hand pressed against his temple. He told Chris they would be five minutes and hung up the call because (Y/n) knew what she was doing and Florence was starting to mellow out. They didn't need Eddie on the phone for that.

He could barely control the shaking in his limbs when he hurried out the ambulance with a medic bag on his shoulder while Chimney sorted out getting the stretcher.

He barely registered that it was the middle of the night until he got up the path and realised the neighbours were peering through the curtains at the sirens and the flashing lights. He chided himself when he got to the front door and it was locked.

Eddie's house keys were on his chain with his car keys. Which were safely tucked away inside his locker. He didn't like carrying them around with him and risk losing them on the job.

"Chris, buddy it's me open the door please." He banged his fist down on the door while he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Waiting and watching as lights turned on and he heard pounding feet until the door finally unlocked and swung open a minute later.

Chris reached out instantly and deadlocked his arms around Eddie's waist, binding himself into his dad as relief rolled through him. He was here. The team were here. They would be able to help Florence now.

"Alright bud, let us in." Eddie leant down to kiss the top of Chris's head and he ran his hand up and down his back before he gently nudged him back and started to walk inside.

His arm stayed around Chris's shoulders as he led the team inside and Eddie looked over his shoulder to glance around the team when they got into the hallway. "Can someone get the baby? Chris, go wait in our room please."

He could hear Marie crying at the top of her lungs and it didn't take much to figure she was distressed with all the commotion.

His hand moved to give Chris a small nudge towards his and (Y/n)'s room where Bobby was aiming for to check on Marie. There wouldn't be enough room in the girls' room for all the team and the kids and a gurney. They all couldn't cramp in there. Chris seemed disheartened but he nodded and trudged further ahead while Eddie veered to the right into the room.

His eyes quickly scanned around the scene and he felt his heart clenching when he looked at his family.

Lottie was sat on the end of Florence's bed, her arms wrapped around her middle like she was giving herself a comforting hug and she was leaning towards the edge to try and keep watch over (Y/n).

And then there was Florence, laid on her right side with her back facing the bed. A puddle of sick in front of her, light tremors running through her body and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

(Y/n) was knelt near her legs, constantly running one hand up and down Florence's thigh and waist to try and stimulate her and keep her calm. She had panic written across her face but the moment she looked up and saw Eddie, her shoulders dropped with relief.

When Eddie crouched down in front of her with Florence's legs between them, (Y/n) dropped her head forward with her temple on Eddie's shoulder and she reached her hand out to grip his bicep. She felt his hand move around to cup the back of her neck and his lips attached to the top of her head.

When he pulled back, Eddie glanced his eyes down to Florence before he looked across at (Y/n).

He curled his hands into fists with his thumbs pointing up and pressed into his chest, before tilting his right hand forward away from his chest. He then held his left arm out straight and glided his other hand down his arm from his elbow to his wrist. How long.

"How long was she seizing?"

"Five or more." (Y/n) held her hand out before shaking it from side to side. It could have been more than five minutes but she wasn't quite sure. All she knew was this was clearly a bad seizure and it had been going on for more than four minutes which meant a hospital visit anyway. Let alone the fact that she had damaged her wrist too.

"Okay. Lottie, go to Chris in our room please, I gotta move Flo soon."

"Daddy-"

"Out please." Eddie shook his head before Lottie had the chance to try and give him those sad eyes and that wobbling lip that always made him crumble. She had seen enough, it was time for her to go and wait with Chris while they got Florence sorted and ready for transport.

On her way past, Lottie leaned up against Eddie and waited until he kissed her temple before she trotted out the room and hurried over to Bobby.

Once she was safely out the way, Eddie opened the medic bag at his side and started rummaging through. He found a pen light and leaned over so he could gently lift Florence's eyelid and check her pupils which he could barely see with how her eyes were rolled near her skull.

"Flo, Carino are you with me?" When he waved the light across her pupils, they didn't constrict and they were blown wide as it was.

Eddie switched to a blood pressure cuff and slid it up her arm while he watched Buck crouch down beside him and look in the bag. He found a wipe and gently started to swab Florence's mouth before he checked she hadn't bitten her tongue and that her airways were clear.

"BP's rising high. I'll splint her wrist then we can get her moving. Buck, can you give her diazepam I don't want another seizure happening."

As much as Florence seemed to be settling down now, she was still tremoring and unconscious. She could easily slip into another seizure and they didn't want that. Giving her some meds would hopefully settle her system and prevent another seizure. They needed her conscious so they could check she had no other injuries or damage.

Eddie reached out and carefully pulled Florence's right arm so it was laid over his lap, allowing him access to assess the damage done. Her arm was starting to swell all the way down to her wrist and hand and when he pressed and checked over her fingers, he felt a clear break in her index finger.

It felt as though there was a clean break in her wrist, but Eddie couldn't be sure whether that was the extent of it or if she had more hairline fractures. And she could have damaged her tendons and muscles too.

(Y/n) shuffled round so she was knelt next to Eddie, hiding her grimace at how numb and heavy her knees felt from being sat on them for so long like this. She watched intently as Eddie placed two wooden splints on either side of Florence's wrist and then started to wrap a roll of bandage around to keep it from moving until she could get an X-ray.

Once her wrist was properly bound, Eddie found a tongue clamp from the bag and carefully wiggled it into Florence's mouth to pin her tongue down. He wasn't running the risk of her choking on her tongue or having her airways becoming blocked. Especially if she went into another seizure.

"Here we go Carino." In less than a minute, Eddie swabbed the back of Florence's left hand, placed a sticker there and inserted a cannula into her vein. He nodded in thanks when Buck inserted the IV line to push fluids into her system.

"Are we ready?"

Upon hearing Buck's words, (Y/n) looked from Eddie to Hen and Chimney who were hovering in the doorway with the gurney. Her lips rolled together and she took a deep breath before she glanced back at Eddie and moved her hands to point between him and Florence.

"You go." Her words confused Eddie for a brief moment before it dawned on him what she was trying to say.

"Are you sure?" Eddie pressed his index finger to his lips and pulled his hand away to sign his question. He could see in (Y/n)'s eyes that she wanted to come down to the hospital with them, but it wasn't ideal to drag their other three kids down there with them.

(Y/n) would stay with Chris, Lottie and Marie if Eddie could remain at the hospital with Florence. It would be easier than (Y/n) needing someone to interpret for her or feeling uncomfortable trying to talk to the doctors.

When she nodded, Eddie pressed his thumb and pinky over his ear in the call sign before he held his hand out with his thumb pressing against his chin and he pulled his hand away. "I'll call Abuela, ask her to come in the morning. And I'll call you when I have news."

He would ring his Abuela and see if she could have the kids as early as possible in the morning so (Y/n) could be at the hospital with Florence. Eddie had a feeling their eldest would be put under observation for twenty four hours after a seizure like this. And it would take a few hours to get her X-rays and then get her hand sorted in a cast and put her on medication for the pain and seizures. They were going to be a while.

Both Eddie and Buck carefully slipped their hands beneath Florence's shoulders and thighs and between them they eased her down onto the gurney that Hen moved behind them. It felt safer to tie a strap over her legs just in case she started seizing or trembling again, they didn't want to run the risk of her falling off the gurney.

Once she was on and Buck and Hen were set on moving the gurney out the room, Eddie held his hands out to (Y/n) and helped her up. His lips attached to her temple and he closed his eyes for a second or two, breathing in her scent as he tried to remain calm.

It was going to be a long night, and it wasn't over yet.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

How do I stop being anxious all the time in relation to being trans? I have an appointment to go on T in 2 weeks. I'm anxious about coming out. I'm anxious about someone figuring it out before I come out. Ahhhh. I have a therapist for anxiety but I don't think it's helping.

Hoping I don't make you even more anxious, but the bottom line is some folks *will* find out and you just gotta learn to roll with it.

What has helped me:

Getting good at identifying red and green flags in cis people

It's become a habit of mine to scope out people when I join a new community. I look at profiles, what people post, etc. It's a little tiring, but I try to find the allies and other trans asap in a new fandom or whatever.

Planning for the worst

To be trans is to always have a plan to Get Out of Dodge.

A lot of times, The Worst is really only temporary embarassment. I deal with this by keeping my head held high and leaning into the more "don't fuck with me, I am tired" part of my personality.

Fake it 'til you make it -- I used to have a paralyzing fear of public mortification, and over time have ripped that apart. Sticking to my boundaries helps a lot, and I am not afraid to say, "I will not answer that question."

Here's the thing, though -- people tend to be impressed when you weather the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, and you'll likely find yourself as someone to be looked up to. Cis folks routinely ask for my advice about their own Big Life Changes, because they have been impressed to see me go through mine. I've also helped crack a few eggs.

Sometimes The Worst is truly bad, and you should always be vigilant here. Again, I know it is exhausting, but always plan for your personal, emotional, and financial safety. Build an emergency cash fund. Cultivate friends who have your back. Always be looking for new job opportunities. Lots of stuff you can workshop with people.

Cultivating a very matter-of-fact relationship with Coming Out.

I focus on any relevant logistics and keep out my emotional backstory. Most people do not need to know how much of a mess I used to be. And I firmly state what I am doing with my future, rather than ask for permission.

My last HRT-related Coming Out email (to one of my orchestras, which is a very gendered biz) was essentially: "FYI, I am medically and legally transitioning from female to male. Just a heads up, as I'll look and sound a bit different at rehearsal -- I have a tux already for the concert. See you Friday!"

That's it. At a company, you can work with HR on your announcement, assuming one will even be necessary in your case based on your transition timeline.

When I changed my name years later, I was also direct:

"I am legally changing my name to Nicholas. It may take a while to update all my clients, so you're welcome to tell them, "Oh, [deadname] goes by Nicholas now. Thanks!"

And when I came out to my spouse in tumblr chat before our first date, it was literally: "Hey, jsyk, I am 35 and a trans man, in case that changes anything."

It takes a lot of practice to get to this point, and is something you can roleplay with your therapist.

Don't be afraid of your past

I am at a place where I will sometimes casually out myself to make a point ("No one ever needs to change the gender field for this form? I recently needed to.") or a stupid joke ("Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be...").

There is a lot of value in the trans experience. You can decide how much of it you want to casually share, but it does get easier each time.

I hope this helps. Being trans means you will be coming out for the rest of your life (obviously, there are times where stealth = safety), so cultivating a no-nonsense, and even humorous, approach will go a long way for your mental health.

[verdancy-hime]

This is the unspoken part

If it happens to you

You just weren't pretty enough.

If he stops treating you well mistreats you switches up cheats on you leaves you flat

You just were entitled delusional etc because you thought you deserved what he promised you but not really I mean look at you you're not pretty enough

And pretty enough doesn't just mean how your face and body are it can change if you get stressed out or fashions change or you don't roll up your shirt or you get sick or you aren't agreeable enough or you say no to something he wants or ask him why he keeps making promises he doesn't intend to keep or just if he decides he wants a new one.

But everyone will come up with euphemisms for it- you just aren't pretty enough and this will work for them because they are going to be pretty enough

this little glamorized misogyny "joke" has run its course right. can we leave this corny demonic shit in 2023. it is done now. we've had enough.

[seresinhangmanjake]

What He Has To

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader

Summary: Despite being betrothed to Rabban, you've been having an affair with Feyd for months. The two of you agreed to stop once you're married, but Feyd decides that doesn't work for him.

Notes/Warnings: Sort of smut, i guess (so 18+). Arranged marriage. There was a request for a fic with Rabban, and though there were a lot of other details included in that request that did not make it here, this was what the request inspired. It kind of took on a life of its own. Sorry.

Words: 3300

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Feyd POV

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. He only intended to take something valuable from Rabban. But in the process of the theft, Feyd tasted the thing that rightfully belonged to his brother, and once he tasted you, he couldn’t stop. He hasn’t stopped. 

He’s enjoyed having you too much. He likes that your eyes always search for his if the two of you are in the same room. He likes that you spend more time in his bed than in the one in your guest quarters. He likes that all of your touches belong to him, and only him. He likes that you don’t speak his brother’s name.

When Feyd convinced you one night to fall into his bed, he imagined the look on Rabban’s face upon learning that his most desired object had been defiled by another. He planned to call Rabban to his room the following morning and show his brother exactly what he’d done, presenting you with his bedsheets pooled around your hips, displaying your bare back as you slept on your stomach. The thought alone was enough to keep him up the whole night in anticipation. 

But once the time came, he couldn’t do it. Where Feyd’s rage rests at a sizzling, low boil, bursting when necessary, Rabban’s is a constant overflowing wave. He would’ve killed you on the spot. Shoved a blade into your spine before your eyes had opened for the day. Your blood would’ve seeped into Feyd’s mattress before he’d gotten an opportunity to kiss you one final time. So, instead, he proposed that what had formed between you remain a secret, and to his satisfaction, you were willing and wanting the same.

“Just until the wedding,” you told him as you rocked back and forth on his cock for the second time. Between kisses and moans, you said, “We can’t continue this once I’m married. I can’t risk anyone suspecting that his heir might belong to someone else.”

In a lust-addled haze, Feyd agreed. But ever since, his clear mind has heavily protested. 

Would you pretend to enjoy being with his brother? Would you moan for him? Whimper? Bite your tongue when Feyd’s name threatens to tumble from your mouth? Or worse, would you like it, and bask in the attention enough to find pleasure. Is it possible that your eyes could squeeze shut and lips could part with shallow breaths without the memories of Feyd rolling around in your mind? Could his brother really learn your body better than he has?

Thoughts of you in Rabban’s arms, Rabban’s lips attached to yours, Rabban’s fingers grazing over your skin, turn Feyd’s stomach each time they slither into his head, so aggressively he nearly loses whatever meal most recently consumed.

If he could change the rules of his world, if the future Baron of Giedi Prime was decided based on skill and intelligence, not age, then he would have you. You would have him and the title of Baroness. Agreements between Houses would be kept, and all involved, with the exception of his incompetent brother, would be pleased. But altering a hierarchy is not easily done, if possible at all.

—

Reader POV

It’s the last night. Tomorrow, you will be married, and what you and Feyd have will cease to exist, leaving you only with captured memories of how he feels, of how he makes you feel. 

You pray those memories can sustain you through a lifetime wedded to his brother. You beg whoever is willing to listen that time does not shrivel those memories to scraps. You can’t allow every bit of him to be taken from you. If you can’t be with him, then you deserve the remnants of what you’ve shared to remain fully intact and accessible whenever you need them. 

Turning your head, cheek meeting pillow, you watch him sleep. He’s unnaturally peaceful, and the sight of it tightens the organ in your chest. So handsome, beautiful lines and edges that make up the features of his face. Not like Rabban, whose features seem to bulge off of his rounded head. 

It is those differences that will make it impossible to sneak around with Feyd behind Rabban’s back once you are married. Should you fall pregnant with Feyd’s child instead of your husband’s, upon birth, it will be much too obvious. You will undoubtedly be put to death, your baby discarded, and Feyd likely shamed in front of all of Giedi Prime for disrespecting his uncle’s strategic arrangement between House Harkonnen and yours.

You twist onto your side, placing your palm on Feyd’s cheek and stroking his sharp cheekbone with your thumb. His skin is smooth, soft, and you always find it fascinating. While most people learn to harden their outer coating to protect their squishy insides, Feyd’s hardened insides are protected by a supple shell—one more difference between him and his brother that you cherish. 

You lean in closer and press your lips to his. One second, two seconds, three, then he’s replying to your kiss, groaning, tangling his fingers into your hair, and flipping you onto your back. 

He slides into you. Rests his forehead on yours. Your eyes stay locked together, exhales playing and curling around one another. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue—the declaration. Just a few words that sum up what you know you’ve been feeling for a while. But you can’t give it to him. To do so will only make it harder to cleave the two of you apart when morning comes. It will make him all the more unwilling to let you go. And should he repeat those words back to you, all hope, minuscule as it is, that you might one day find peace without him will vanish. 

Feyd thrusts deep. Your walls pulsate. You feel him fill you. 

He stays there for a moment as he rests his comfortable weight on top of you, lips hovering a half-inch above yours. 

“Don’t drink it,” he whispers.

You blink. Your brow pinches. Your body squirms the slightest under his. He’s never asked that of you. “I have to.”

Finding purchase on his muscles, you push him off of you, and despite despising the emptiness now between your legs, it doesn’t stop you from sitting up and reaching for the tonic on the bedside table that ensures no child will plant within you. 

Feyd sighs and falls onto his back, forcefully dropping his head into the pillow. He stares at the ceiling as the rim of the bottle touches your lips.

You pause to look at him, and for a moment slip back into the recurring dream of what might come of you putting the bottle down, leaving your tongue untouched by the liquid. Something lovely could grow inside of you. Menacing, but lovely. And were it truly a choice, you would make it, pray for that outcome. But it isn’t a choice. You both know it.

You take a deep breath, then swallow the bitterness in the bottle. 

Feyd turns over. His back faces you.

—

Feyd would have kissed you once it was announced in front of the Great Houses that you were officially man and wife. Rabban doesn’t, and you are thankful for that. 

You don’t want his mouth near yours. Nowhere near your body. Earlier, when his lips brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered what he intends to do with you once you’re alone, you flinched and clasped your fingers together to keep their trembling unnoticed. 

This morning you believed it would be fine, that you could settle into the role of the agreeable, dutiful wife. Despite knowing you will always love another, your priorities remained set on fulfilling your purpose for being sent to Giedi Prime in the first place. But that was before you were married. Now, you’re not convinced you can play the part required of you without great difficulty. Peace between Houses no longer feels as vital to you as it once did. However, you’re not so selfish as to neglect that the opposite is true. 

From across the room, Feyd is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and eyes fixed on you. You’ve seen him angered before, you’ve seen him indignant; you know what that looks like on his face. But the downward curve of his lips and the divet between his brows display those emotions more clearly than ever. 

Internally, you will him to stop. Should anyone notice him staring at you for too long, they will catch on. You’ve been on Giedi Prime for months—everyone is aware of it—and, as rumor has it, you wouldn’t be the first child of a Lord to stray from their betrothed before the day of their wedding. Months are enough time to partake in a premature affair, enough time to develop an obsession. And obsession, possessiveness, is written all over Feyd’s hard-set features; it bleeds from the tension in his body. Anyone with half a brain could guess what is going on, and no one in attendance tonight is a fool.

Should your affair be discovered, or even suspected, there will be harsh punishment awaiting you, and you can’t begin to imagine what horrors a Harkonnen could inflict. But when Feyd gives you a final steely look before disappearing from the party, you, too, slip away.

You’re just going to talk to him, set him straight, tell him to get it together if he cares for your life. When you find him, though, he appears too erratic to listen to anything you might say. Back and forth he paces, mumbling and shaking his head as long, aggressive strides carry him up and down the hallway. 

And then he notices you, and he stops short. His chest is rapidly filling and deflating. You open your mouth, but before you can utter a word, he is stomping toward you, grabbing your face in his hands, and slamming his lips onto yours. 

He swallows your noise of surprise as each of his steps forward pushes you back until your spine hits the wall. The impact shoves the air out of your lungs and you break the kiss to release it. 

Your heart is throbbing, beating so violently you think it may burst and coat your ribcage. It nearly does when he leans in to kiss you again, but you turn your head away before lips can connect.

“Don’t,” he says.

“We discussed this. We agreed.”

He holds your head firmly in place, forcing you to look at him. The sheer determination in his glare is overpowering. You couldn’t break your locked gazes if you tried. “I don’t care.” 

“It doesn’t matter if you care,” you retort, grasping his wrists and ripping his touch from your face, only for his hands to plant firmly on the wall on either side of your head.

The stare between you is dense, thick, but then it begins to shake, shake more recklessly with each second until it shatters, and you have to look away once more. If you don’t, you’ll give in completely. And you can’t give in. 

To solidify your decision to have last night be the last time you’ll ever have him, you drew a line between you. And that line is the sole method you have to ensure mistakes will not be made. If you cross it, you know you’ll forget the existence of the line altogether. One mistake will become two, two will become three, and it will only be a matter of time before those mistakes are uncovered. 

With your eyes to the ground, you swallow hard enough to strain your throat. “I’m not doing this,” you tell him. Then you duck under his arm, intent on heading back into the party.

Before you can get three steps in the right direction, his fingers wrap around your bicep. You’re jerked backward. Chest flush with his, your mouths meet, and this time, as you feared, you’re made a fickle fool of. Your body gains a mind of its own. It conquers and rebels against your brain, making you rise on your toes, link your arms around his neck, and kiss him with as much fervor as he is giving, as if to negate the idiotic things that left your mouth moments ago. 

Your back hits the wall again. Hands graze down your waist to the swell of your hips. Fingers fist the fabric of your gown and pull the material up your legs. Cold air touches your thighs, partially shielded by the warmth of one of his palms on your skin. As that warmth inches toward your center, you hear the unfastening of his pants. It’s that sound that shocks you out of your drunken state. 

You tear yourself apart from him and shove at his chest until he stumbles out of your space. Your dress falls back down your body.

“I can’t,” you mutter, unable to look at any part of him other than his boots, and even that proves to be a challenge. Seeing where he stands just four feet from you, you could grab him and pull him close, kiss him some more. But you don’t. 

He doesn’t make another move toward you, so you command your legs to stop their wobbling before heading back down the hall and reentering the reception.

—

As you wait to be escorted to your husband, you run over the list you’ve compiled, the options you have laid out to aid you in getting through the night. Alcohol consumption being one. Feigning illness, another, though you’re not sure how effective that would be.

You decide that you’ll think of Feyd. You’ll shut your eyelids and imagine it’s him. His mouth, his grunts, his fingertips digging into your waist as Rabban holds you and thrusts over and over. You’ll do that every day for the rest of your life if you have to, praying that Rabban never does anything to dispel the trick you intend to play on your mind. You hope he doesn’t speak, his voice not quite the same octave as Feyd’s. You hope he doesn’t kiss you, his lips not close to the fullness of Feyd’s. And as horrified as you are to think it, you hope his cock is similar to Feyd’s. If too large or small, too thick or thin, it will be a struggle for you to mentally replace him with the man you love.

A knock breaks through your racing thoughts. You stop picking at your cuticles and make your way over to the door. When you open it, a Harkonnen guard is on the other side.

This is it: your final moments of knowing only Feyd’s touch and taste. Your nose stings as you tamp down the budding tears. The guard doesn’t notice the glassiness of your eyes as he turns his back to you and starts down the hall. Or maybe he does notice and simply doesn’t care.

Following like an obedient child trailing after its mother, you walk from the guest rooms to the adjoining section of the fortress that holds the rooms of the Lords. Your gut somersaults when you pass Feyd’s room. That’s where you should be going. That’s where you belong. 

You wonder if he has locked himself in there for the night, if he’s drinking himself stupid to forget the reality of your fate, as you would be doing had he married another woman. You picture him throwing things, fragile items flying across the room, glass shattering. You picture his fists bloodied and bruised from slamming into walls. You continue to picture him as Rabban’s room comes into view.

With a straightened spine, you prepare yourself for what’s to come, but when the guard does not stop, confusion creases the space between your brows. “We’ve passed it,” you tell him.

“Baron’s orders,” is all he says, and you trek onward.

Minutes of being led through the fortress finally come to a halt outside the council room. Important things happen in there. Decisions are made. Discussions are held that you would not normally be privy to. Married to a Harkonnen or not, you’re still a foreigner, and foreigners' opinions hold little weight with any matter concerning Giedi Prime. Everyone, including the guard in front of you, knows you have no purpose here. So why are you here?

The guard pushes through the door. He enters first, his broad back blocking your sight as you step in behind him. 

“Ah, and here she is,” the Baron says in his gritty voice. The guard moves aside, allowing you to take in the space: the Baron seated on a throne placed at the top of a short set of stairs; Feyd standing at the base of those stairs, facing his uncle. “Come closer, girl.”

You feel your blood rushing, fuzzing in your ears, but you do as you’re told, your legs carrying you to Feyd’s side. You both keep your eyes forward. Your head briefly dips in the Baron’s presence. “My Lord.”

A grumbling sound acknowledges the gesture of respect, then he wastes no time getting started. “I have some troubling news,” he says, weaving his fingers together and resting them on his swollen stomach. “We have been informed of an unexpected...tragedy.”

Your heart stops. He knows. He must know. You and Feyd stand before him at this unusual hour, and for what other reason would there be than to face punishment for your lewd acts of defiance and disrespect? Tragedy is the foolishness, the idiocy of brazen behavior that will snuff out the rest of your life. Any moment, guards will take you by the arms and drag you to a cell to await public execution. 

Death is a fate you once thought preferable to marriage with another man. However, much worse is knowing you will never look upon Feyd’s face again, you will never be in his presence, and that is a thought so unbearable you realize you would rather survive, even if survival means a miserable existence without him in your arms. 

Your shoulders tense as you listen for Baron’s final judgement. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he crooks his finger at the servant to his left, ordering her to bring him his pipe. As he shoos her away, his lips wrap around the tube, sucking in deeply, then heavily releasing a plum of smoke.

“My nephew, it seems, has met his unfortunate end,” he says.

Bits of shock trickle through and taint your composed expression—brows raising, jaw slacking and lips parting. Surely that does not mean what you think it means. Your head snaps to Feyd, but he still doesn’t look at you, so you refocus your attention on the Baron.  

“I don’t understa–” you start.

“A poisonous substance was consumed,” the Baron says, taking a long draw from the pipe and holding it in his lungs. “And death is the consequence of ignorance and weakness; that is all you need to understand.” He coughs, clears his throat. “Fortunate are we to have a competent spare.”

“A spare?”

“You will wed Feyd-Rautha,” he tells you. “Our arrangement with your House will remain intact.” Your muscles go rigid. Suffocation follows the collapse of your chest. You’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly, but then he says, “The ceremony will take place in a week’s time,” and your knees just about buckle under your weight. 

You get yourself together enough to dip your head once more in agreement. To your right, Feyd does the same, and for the first time, you notice the calmness radiating from his body. Not once did you hear a shift in his breath; his fists did not clench at the discussion of his brother’s untimely death. He had done nothing but stand there in silence.

“What did you do?” you whisper.

A beat goes by before he answers.

“What I had to,” he says.

[midluuna]

Fairy COTL AU?!?!

LOOK!!! I've been thinking about this for a looooong time and I tried to ignore the worms in my brain because I am already trying to finish this other AU of mine (@redcrowncafe). Anyways, since the voices are getting louder I decided to let them FREE!!

THE PLOT?

Something something like Lambert and Goatfrey (lamb and goat) going to a small mountain town they used to go when they were little and in that city there is a forest where the two used to go and one day Lambert casually stumbles into a portal and ends up the fairies dimension, where they get get kidnapped and brought to the leaders of the four fairy realms (of course).

Leshy is the Fairy of Spring, Kallamar the Fairy of Summer, Heket of Autumn and Shamura of Winter (I know the colors of their outfits aren't really matching their seasons, I might relaborate them... or maybe not).

So, basically they want to keep Lambert forever but in a way or another they get contacted by Narinder, a snarky fairy who is willing to give them powers so that they can defeat blah blah blah the usual. So Lambert becomes half fairy, basically the magical girl logic except they are an adult. They don't really trust him because he's a fairy too, but they know they really have no choice and accept.

Narinder is the Fairy of Transition, basically his domain is all that is transitory: like the transition between a season to another, the dim darkness between night and day, the metamorphosis taking place inside a cocoon, the death between any reincarnation and so on!

I still don't know the reason why he was banished by the dimension, he probably did what he did because he felt like no one really cared about his domain or gave importance, but I know for sure that he can appear freely outside that dimension and change appearance as he please: he can look like a normal guy in his late 20s or a butterfly or an actual CAT (form he likes to change to when he wants to play some prank on the lamb).

Also Goatfrey will be a half fairy like them I guess.

Also of course Felix too (the yellow cat) is in the AU. She's a spring fairy and probably pollinates flowers or tell animals it's time to have babies I guess.

I already have so many headcanons and I want to draw/write something but I don't want to write a fanfiction or put so much effort like in the other AU, but I definitely want to draw some silly comic, doodle and maybe few chapters of unrelated events? idk Feel free to write in my ask inbox I guess!!

[strnilolover]

Cabin On The Mountain

in which . . . matt and reader decide to go to a cabin for a get away up on the mountains, secluded from everyone and everything else. what happens when they get snowed in their first night and matt decides on how to keep them busy?

content warnings : this is a short little mini series that will explicitly contain smut and mature themes. this whole thing will basically be smut with zero to very little plot whatsoever. this also skips a lot, so they are all different days and things they do each day. length also may very (they will mostly be short, but can be longer).

additional warnings : smut. slight fingering. matt uses the shower head on reader. praising. overstimulating. dirty talk. matt’s a little mean.

intro , one , two , three

SHOWER

day five…

steam curled around you as the hot water hit your back, rolling down in streams against your skin. your head tipped back, running your hands over your hair as you just stood there.

you could feel math behind you, watching as you just stood under the water.

your mind couldn’t help but to still think about his words and what he said, the thought making you wonder if he’d do the same in here—against the wall, pushing your face into the tiles as he fucks you from behind.

the thought had you weak, your thighs clenching without even noticing. but matt noticed with the way he was watching you. he smirked, stepping forward lightly as you were lost in your mind, slipping his arms around your middle, making you jump slightly.

“what’re you thinking about hm?” he whispered against your ear, letting his teeth nip a part of your lobe, making you gasp. you smiled, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “nothing.” you muttered, face reddening at the fact you may have just been caught.

“uh-huh.” he said, letting one hand move down lower as the other moved up toward your tits. “are you sure? y’look like you’re really enjoying your thoughts here.” and you nodded, not bothering to keep hiding it.

“mm thought so.” his hand came down between your legs, tracing soft patterns into the skin of your thigh. the other hand softly squeezing your tit. “wanna tell me what you were thinking about in your pretty head?” he asked, groaning as his fingers slid up to your pussy, his touch light, feeling how wet you already were.

you shook your head, feeling more shy than you normally would. matt hummed, pulling his hands away which made you whine, before slowly turning you around to face him. “no?” he asked, pushing you back against the tiled wall. you nodded, your body shivering as the cold tiles pressed into your back.

matt grinned, leaning close to you as his arm stretched up to grab the shower head. you hadn’t even registered that he had, your eyes laser focused onto him. “maybe i could do something to change that, yeah?” he whispered, bringing the shower head down between your bodies. “please..” you begged, not even sure what for, but whatever he had planned you knew you wanted it.

he chuckled, leaning away from you before getting down into his knees in front of you, his head tilting up to look at you. his free hand came out, wrapping around your right thigh before lifting it and hooking it over his shoulder—opening you wide for him. you squeaked, one hand reaching out to grab at something to keep you stable as the other came down to grab at his hair.

“mm look at you baby.” he groaned, moving his fingers to your folds, spreading you apart. “such a pretty pussy.” his words made you whine, your hips pushing forward for any sort of friction on your aching clit. matt hummed, his tongue poking out to lick his lips. “so impatient.” he teased before bringing the shower head down between your legs, aiming the stream of water to pulse directly onto your aching bud.

your whole body jolted at the pressure—quick and intense. “o-oh fuck!” you moaned, hips bucking as your fingers tugged on his locks. “that’s it baby, c’mon be as loud as you want.” the sight of you in front of him had his cock hard, his tip red and leaking. he watched the way you clenched around nothing, whimpers and moans slipping past your lips as he increased the speed slightly.

“matt—baby—“ you choked on a moan, feeling his fingers prod at your entrance before slipping in, his pace already fast and relentless. between the water and his fingers, you body was shaking, already feeling your stomach tighten with your impending orgasm. matt could feel it, the way you were clenching around his fingers like a vice.

your eyes fluttered closed, but only for a second before they opened again when you felt matt’s fingers retreat—along with the water. leaving you right on the edge, a frustrated whine slipping past your lips. “mhm not yet baby.” he said, trailing the water up and down your thighs. “gotta tell me what you were thinking about if you wanna cum.”

he was being so mean, but your need to cum overpowered your frustration. your breathing increased, feeling how your clit pulsed, your release fading away little by little. you gave in. “was—“ you paused, looking down at him as his blue eyes stared up at you. “was thinking about you fucking me against the wall in here..”

matt smiled, bringing the pressure right back to your clit as his fingers plunged back inside you. you gasped, back arching off the wall. “good girl. wasn’t so hard now was it?” he mocked, and you shook your head, grinding your hips down to chase the feeling of your orgasm that was quickly approaching again.

“look at you—gonna cum baby?” he asked, pressing the stream closer to your sensitive bundle of nerves. you nodded quickly, breathy moans filling the room. “yes, yes, yes—matt, m—“ your voice cracking into a sob as your orgasm crashed over you, so intense your knees wobbled, threatening to give out.

but he didn’t let up. just grinned up at you, shower head still working your clit while you gasped and begged and tried to squirm away. “aw is it too much?” he asked, turning the stream up just a bit.

you screamed—a broken, desperate cry that echoed off the shower walls. matt just smiled, eyes dark and hungry. “that’s my good girl.” he praised, pulling his fingers out as he kept the stream directly on you.

“let’s see how many times I can make you cum before the water runs cold.”

a/n : slowly but surely getting this done…i’m sorry it’s taking me so long haha

[russo-woso]

New feelings || Aggie Beever-Jones x reader

Request + Request | Masterlist

Warning smut 18+, strap on, breeding kink, squirting, fingering, cunnilingus

Summary Some new feelings arise when you see Aggie with a baby

“Oh, hi.” Aggie cooed as she took the fans baby in her arms. “How old is he?”

“Three months. We decided it was time for him to see Chelsea play for the first time.” The fan responded

You continued to watch Aggie with the baby, your stomach doing flips as she cradled the baby so gently.

You’d been saying Aggie since the Under 17 England camps and the talk of your future had come up many times before - the two of you dreaming of children with each other - but you’d never actually seen Aggie with a baby.

You quickly walked through the tunnel and into the changing rooms, trying to think of something other than Aggie with the baby but it was impossible.

“Hiya, love. You played so well today.” Aggie said, her hands coming to rest on your ass as she kissed you. “I just met the cutest little fella. He was so small.”

“I saw.” You said, your cheeks reddened as you imagined Aggie with a baby - your baby.

“Oh, that was quite a reaction.” Again smirked, gripping your hips as you hid your face in embarrassment. “I’ll keep that in mind for later.”

“Aggie…” you whined, hiding your face in her neck.

“What’s going through your head, darling?”

“You with the baby made me think things.” You revealed, Aggie knowing what you meant.

“Did it now?” Aggie laughed

“Please, just forget it. It’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, I’m not forgetting this, darlin’. Try get some sleep on the coach because we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

Just like Aggie said, you were in for a long night.

As soon as you stepped into your apartment, you knew what was going to happen.

Aggie had dropped the bags, before pushing you against the wall, her hands on your hips as she kissed you deeply.

“When you saw me with the baby, did you think about us having a baby?” Aggie asked, the two of you breathless from the kiss.

You nodded before taking a deep breath.

“I also thought about you trying to get me pregnant.” You said with a smirk, Aggie bringing you back into a kiss.

“Fuck, I know I cant but tonight I’m gonna try my hardest.” Aggie told you, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

You may have crashed into a few things on the way there but you had bigger things on your mind.

“Take your shirt off, baby.” Aggie said and you did, leaving you in your bra.

Aggie lips immediately connected to your upper left breast where the lace of your bra sat.

She sucked harshly, marking you - marking what’s hers.

You lifted yourself onto your forearms so Aggie could reach your back, undoing your bra with expertise.

You let it fall off you as she threw it to one side.

Her tongue immediately ran over your hardened nipple.

She sucked gently as you squirmed under her.

Her fingers came to play with your other nipple, pinching and pulling at it.

Your back arched as she kissed down your chest, getting closer and closer to where you needed her.

“Gonna make you a mummy tonight.” Aggie whispered against your pussy as you let out a breathy moan.

Her tongue ran through your folds as she lapped gently at them.

She moaned helplessly as she tasted you.

“Fuck.” You muttered as her tongue flicked at your clit. “Feels so good, Aggie.”

She gripped your thighs to stop you from squirming.

“Aggie.” You moaned, pulling at her hair as you felt your pleasure building.

She continued to lap at your pussy, before sucking at your clit.

“Aggie, baby…”

“Close, darling?”

“So close. Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Please don’t stop.” You begged

Aggie continued sucking at you clit but just as you were about to reach your high, she pulled away leaving you shocked and desperate.

“Aggie!” You whined, throwing your head back in frustration.

“Sit in front of the mirror for me.” Aggie said.

You gave her a confused look, moving to fit in front of the mirror you had on your wardrobe that faced the bed.

Aggie came and sat behind you, he hands spreading your legs revealing your soaked pussy in the mirror.

Her fingers travelled to your clit as she rubbed it gently.

You tilted your head so it rested against her shoulder, small whimpers leaving your mouth at the sensitivity.

“Look at the mess you’re making, darling. Making a mess for me.” Aggie whispered in your ear as she pushed her middle finger into your soaked core.

Your back arched away from her chest at the action.

She pumped her finger into and out, as she sucked at your neck.

“Look in the mirror.”

You obeyed her command, looking at the mess you were making on her fingers.

She thrusted in and out with pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Fuck, Aggie, I’m gonna cum already.” You warned her, desperate to come.

“You can cum for me, darling. Cum on my fingers for me.”

You threw your head back against her as you came, a cry leaving your mouth as your pussy tightened around her fingers.

“Such a good girl for me. Gonna be an even better girl and gonna take my dick. Gonna let me make you a mummy.” Aggie said, whispering the last bit in your ear.

The words itself made you moan.

“Please make me a mummy. Let me have your baby.”

Aggie grabbed the strap and put it on herself, lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing in.

You’d taken it many a times before but this felt different.

Your eyes shut as you felt Aggie bury the strap in you.

“Such a good girl.” She cooed, rubbing your clit to take away the sting.

She slowly moved in and out, stretching you out gently.

She had no issue moving in and out, your previous orgasm having made you dripping.

“Fuck.” You moaned, the feeling overwhelming as you clawed at Aggie’s back.

“I know, love.”

She started moving quicker, your body squirming as she thrusted in and out of you.

“Feels good.” You managed to say through moans.

“I’m gonna cum in you, love. Gonna make you a mummy. You’re gonna carry my baby. God you’d look so gorgeous with my baby.”

The feeling of her cock pounding into you along with her words made you closer to your impending orgasm.

She grabbed your legs, spreading them even further as she pounded into you.

You cried out as she reached the deepest part of your pussy.

“Oh my god. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, please make me a mummy. Aggie, let me have your baby. Fuck I’m coming!” You babbled as you pulled her into you, her hips relentlessly pounding into you.

A wave of pleasure ran through you as clear liquid soaked the sheets and Aggie’s torso.

“Fuck, baby. You squirted.” Aggie muttered, looking at the strap that was buried inside you.

You hummed, too overwhelmed and tired to speak.

“Oh, love. Do you want me to get you anything? Water? A snack? Do you want me to run you a bath?” Aggie asked, having pulled the strap out of you and taking it off herself.

“I just want cuddles.”

“Okay, come on then.”

Aggie laid down, pulling you onto her chest as you listened to her heartbeat.

Although you were definitely too young for a baby, you knew one day, Aggie would make you a mummy.

[theladybrownstarot]

ꨄ︎𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤-𝐀-𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝: : 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ? ִֶָ

ꨄ︎-> ۶ৎ𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ִֶָ |۶ৎ𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝-𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ִֶָ |۶ৎ𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 ִֶָ |

HOW TO PICK A PILE ? Take a deep breathe , close your eyes after your open them up choose the pile where your sight goes first in calming inner silence . If you are called up by more than one pile you please feel to choose it .

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

۶ৎ In the month of May I can see you all being quite dominant , sharp , rude , straight and commanding for your things especially your own happiness . You won't mind cutting of people from your life who are not being of a part of your happiness but sadness . This month it's about being practica and rational for your emotional needs which needs to fulfilled , you are aligning yourself with respect to what you want most although be aware that whatever you do shall be always with a good purpose remembering whatever you are doing is for your own growth and happiness not some end goal pleasure . But anyways, let's not forget how happy you will be getting few wishes fulfilled also making your own way to be happy. I can well Feel that you have some deep questions regarding yourself in your life , which are being answered this month. Also,Possible that you may meet someone soon in this month only but I see you quite like keeping distance from them- for what? Perhaps because you want to focus on yourself . You will be taking care of yourself this month , protecting your energy and changing yourself accordingly to adjust with few things .

ᯓ★ EXTRA-MESSAGES : Chameleon , panther, squirrel , 9 , air signs , 11 th house , 8th house with Saturn or Jupiter them transiting.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐.

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

۶ৎ Okay so I can see that this month you will face a heartbreak than will receive something. I know it's quite up and down trying to grasp the meaning but let me make it simple - you might have Worked hard for something later on You didn't get it because of any reason then later on after some time you are getting it now this month only perhaps a pain taking experience or hard working leading to the results but if you won't get it than it's Just one of a significant experience in your life to shape you for further. This month is going to be challenging - being indecisive , facing things at once , people taking advantage , being insecure and pessimistic & somewhere being judged . Other than that you are being told to not reveal your thoughts to anyone for now this month or anything in significant or any detail that people can take and use it against you . Someone is leaving from your life . But the good part is that all these experiences will change your perception and mentality but yes how do will you take all these experience will decided things at last , apart it feels this month will block the path you were always stubbornly taking than changing so this is will removed and new will come after some time. Other than that you are being told to ground your energies since experiences will upside them down draining you, be open to this coming transitional time also keep less interaction with people .

ᯓ★ EXTRA-MESSAGES : Otter spirit , elephant spirit , 3 , 7 , 8 , air signs , significant Saturn/mars/rahu mahadasha going on .

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑 ! 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠:

۶ৎ Okay so this month you all seem to be hopeful yups ! And infact I can see you wining here a lot with things you are working on despite the fact that you will be facing bit of obstacles which is only for enhancing you and your skills . There's is someone or something coming up in your life - an opportunity through communication . You are going to be fast this month infact things will be keeping you occupied here but it doesn't seem to faze or bore you infact you are enjoying the thrill taking new you experiences. You are going to successfully end the complete the healing period here you were on from previously before . Your health will be good too plus I can see you people having some major glowup this month or some voluntary changes! Perhaps hairstyle or something. Minor travels on the cards here .

ᯓ★ EXTRA-MESSAGES : Spider and ladybird spirit , 7 and 8 significant , fire sign and aquarius prominent here .

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2025 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[sexcnanami]

minors dni, 18+ content

imagine secretly dating collegejock!sukuna as you both agreed it would be less drama due to your opposite social circles. sukuna was well-in with the popular guys – especially considering he was known for being such an aggressive, cocky athlete. you, on the other hand, were an arts major with a bashful demeanor and absolutely hated getting tangled in drama. but everything changed the day you both met on accident; bumping into him with a full tray in the food hall on campus. you shyly apologized, swearing that it was an accident of course but, to your surprise, he wasn’t chill about it so you put him in his place, something that’s never happened to him before – let alone by a woman as small as yourself in comparison to him. since then, he was attached to your side until you decided it would be best to keep your relationship on the low. you didn’t want any part in the popular lifestyle and definitely didn’t want your business to be out there like that. sukuna was reluctant but agreed to your privacy until he had passed you one his way to his next class where he overheard your friends talking about how hot he was but the thing that made him stop in his tracks was when he heard you say, 

“I bet it’s not even worth it, his ego is probably bigger than his dick.” he wasn’t one bit mad at that and even found it funny – only jokingly mentioning it to you while you were choking on his cock that very same night. but what started to bother him was the fact that with no one knowing about your relationship, anyone could approach you at any moment. sukuna wasn’t the insecure type whatsoever, but just the idea that someone thought they could have you was enough to make his blood boil and his temper get the best of him. 

what officially set it off for him was when he overheard satoru in the team locker room saying he was planning to ask you out after tonight’s basketball game. at first, he wasn’t worried one bit and genuinely believed satoru wasn’t dumb enough to go through with it – even if he didn’t know you two were together. his irritation didn’t start until after they won the game, watching satoru jogging over to talk to you. sukuna assumed that you were going to turn him down, but little did he know the pressure you were actually under as satoru had asked for your number and your friends sitting next to you were every bit of excited for you because of it. but again, no one was supposed to know about your relationship. without even being given the time to make a decision, one of your friends takes your phone and gives it to satoru, who happily puts his number in your phone. but before he leaves, he smoothly grabs your hand and places a small peck on your knuckles, your face turning beet red at the gesture. when he quickly heads back to join in on the team’s debrief, sukuna had witnessed the entire thing and was not having it.

he immediately turned on his heel, harshly pacing in your direction and completely disregarding the calls for him to join the rest of the team. the moment you meet his gaze, you instantly freeze at his demeanor. had you gone too far with keeping your relationship a secret – yes, otherwise why else did he grip up your arm and take you back to his dorm, the entire walk being filled with your protests while he was silent the entire time. he didn’t look stressed, angry, or anything, just quiet which was something that made you even more fearful of what was going to come. as soon as he brought you back to his dorm, his lips immediately attach to yours in a hungry, almost angry kiss, making you shut up as he firmly pressed you against the back of the door. 

“why the fuck did you let him touch you?!” he damn near growls, his hand wrapped around your throat as he towered over you. “fucking gojo of all people.”

“wha-I swear I didn’t!” you retort, his roughness causing you to be flustered. “it wasn’t my fault my friends gave him my phone and I didn’t know he was going to-”

“that why you got all shy?” he asks, his hand tightening its grasp. “It looked like you were enjoying that attention, you blush that way for everyone who gives it to you? That why you want us to be a secret?!” 

“no ‘kuna, I promise!” you manage to say.

“fuck that, I’m going to make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” he barks, a wicked smirk on his lips.

the moment his lips make contact with your neck you almost immediately melt, his kisses carrying a much different weight than previous ones you’ve shared with him before. his lips and teeth take turns on the different marks they leave on your skin, the unique combination making your legs weak as light groans leave from the back of his throat. his hands wander along your curves while still pinning to the back of his door, his hands grabbing firmly onto the fat of your ass as his lips trailed lower to meet at your collarbone, his tongue grazing over the dark red marks left behind causing a shiver to run down your spine. his fingers shortly hook within the waistband of your pants, tugging roughly as a silent, yet impatient request before you oblige and help step out of them along with your panties – which to your surprise, he ends up pocketing.

without a warning, you’re lifted up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his hefty bulge presses against your clothed heat and you swear you could feel him throb through his sweatpants. as he presses his hips against yours, his lips reattach to your own, his tongue shamelessly pushing into your mouth as if he owned the space – which he definitely did. your mind was already beginning to fog and he hasn’t even touched you where you’ve needed it the most from the second you both stepped in that room. his mouth was overpowering yours, practically claiming your breath as he harshly rocked his hips against you, increasing the friction between you both and causing for your quiet whimpers to pour out. he nearly scoffs at the sound, feeling as though you’re purposefully trying to be quiet when his main objective was to get you to scream out his name for everyone down the halls to hear; for everyone to know you’re his.

he tries something new, fully hoisting you up for you to sit on his shoulders as he was now brought face to face to your drenched heat. he boldly flicks out his tongue, the muscle immediately coated in your juices. a sharp yelp rushes out of you and a satisfied smirk is planted on his face as he vigorously devours your soaked cunt, his fingers digging deep into the plushness of your thighs as he held you up. his tongue traces along the unique, soft curves and creases of your pussy, lapping up your gushing arousal while your moans drown out the sound of his sloppy slurps, your hand coming down to grab onto his hair to keep yourself more grounded, the assault of his greedy mouth inching you closer and closer to your release. he can feel how close you are, your legs being jumpier at each harsh lick he made against your clit.  

before you could relish in the waves of your oncoming orgasm, he stops licking at your sensitive bud before he gently places you back down on the floor, where you instantly drop to your knees in front of him.

“aww does someone want to make it up to me?” he grins, his hand kneading through your hair as he looks down at you almost pitifully the moment you nod. “of course that’s the only way sluts like you know how to make things right, hm?” your cheeks flush again at his degrading words, unable to ignore the effect they had on you as you sat there with your pussy lips drooling at each harsh word. you pull down his shorts and he doesn’t waste a second at controlling the pace himself, immediately shoving his throbbing cock into the warm, wet cave of your inviting mouth, refusing to give you a moment to even adjust to the stretch he brings to your throat. you’re already choking, the tight walls of your throat clasping harshly around his thick length as he roughly rocks his hips into your mouth, his tip dribbling with pre-cum the moment he looks down at your teary-eyes. 

“too much?” he almost chuckles, still fucking your throat with ease as he expects an answer – only to be met with the slight gargling sound trailing your moans. “can’t talk when that whore mouth of yours gets stuffed full–fuck.” you can feel your arousal uncomfortably pool between your thighs, the floor beneath you forming the smallest puddle and you can’t help but feel dumbed at the humiliation of it on top of his words. he suddenly pulls out of your mouth, your pipes being finally filled with air as you cough before you’re pulled up to your feet only to be spun around and slammed against the door, your juices down your leg on full display for him while his angry, red tip pushes into your deprived cunt. he pulls at your hips, making you claw onto the back of his door for support but this was his exact plan; anyone who walked down that hall on the other side would hear you’re getting absolutely demolished. his pace is cruel, each thrust feeling heavier than the last as you cry out his name, practically begging for release as your body is overcome with pleasure as his grip on your hips becomes almost paralyzing.

the sound of his hips slapping against yours were the only sounds resonating in the room, the lewd noises being music to his ears as he felt himself get closer to his own release yet he wants to last even longer, wanting to stay submerged in you for much more than either of you could stand – especially when he started feeling your walls clench tightly around him.

“this pussy’s–ngh all fuckin’ mine.” he emphasizes each word with a powerful thrust. “now everyone can hear how much I own this.”

before you could even fathom it, your orgasm washes over you, your vision blurring from being kept on the edge for so long and you feel yourself shiver as his pace sped up, gliding effortlessly against your plush walls and taking full advantage of the slippery feeling your juices on his cock had brought. you were practically fucked dumb, your back arching further as the overstimulation of your pussy took place, the tears running down your cheeks the moment his hand reaches around to play with your clit as you rode out your orgasm before his hot ropes of cum paint your insides, feeling him throb as he leans over to bite down on your shoulder. when he slowly pulls himself out of you, he watches the cum sloppily emerge from the cave of your pussy, instinctively pushing his thumb in to keep it from drooling more as he wanted you to accept everything. but part of you just knew, he wasn’t going to be stopping there, especially not when his cock was still hard.

“you get two minutes then I’m fucking you until everyone on campus has heard you scream my name.” he says, already tracing your pussy lips with the head of his dick.

and no–he was not kidding.

[eclec-tech]

I'm so done with this AI garbage.

I have well over half a million words posted to AO3, and if what I'm reading today is true, it looks like they have all been stolen to feed AI's relentless quest to slowly kill the creative spirit of humanity.

I don't get paid to write. I don't get paid to beta. I don't get paid to edit work. I do it all for free. I love writing. I love to share what I've written and help others to share what they have written. Why? Because storytelling is something so innately human that we've been doing it as a species since before we even had written language, and I love that.

I share my imagination on AO3 because I want other humans to read it. I want to share my thoughts with them. If I ever decided to share the uniqueness of my mind with a computer, I would expect two things: that my explicit permission was given prior, and that I would be paid. Neither have happened or will happen, so I have two options. I can either stop posting to the archive and lose that creative outlet and personal connection to other humans, or I can lock my work and hope that such a measure will protect MY work from the greed of others.

For now, I'm opting with the latter. If you read my work as a guest, you will not be able to starting today. I will be going through each work and changing the settings so that only people registered with The Organization for Transformative Works will have access. If you want to keep reading what I write, and I desperately hope that you do, please make an account. It's a very easy thing to do, and it will allow me to continue to share my love of writing with you just like always, but with a lock as an extra step to protect my words from those who shouldn't have them. Make an account, and you'll have the key.

Thank you. 🧡

[lavenderhateswritting]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTj6S4hus/ This is any of the marks if reader doesn’t answer them because they are doing hero stuff or just working btw

Sinester, Eyeless, and Mohawk my loves

Sinister Mark

~ His first reaction when you miss his call is usually to just go wherever you are and "handle" whatever is keeping your attention

~ He has just appeared wherever you are and killed the villain you're fighting or jumped into the conversation you were holding. Sometimes you'll not even notice he's called you until he is just standing in front of you

~ He doesn't care if you find it weird either he actually finds it annoying that you made him take the extra effort to have to come find you. Could he just text you and wait for you to finish what you're doing? Of course, but he's never going to do that.

"Why didn't you answer my call" he was standing in front of you with his arms crossed covered head to toe in blood. He hadn't even had the decency to change into his superhero suit. "I was busy fighting the monster you just gutted" he looked over at the creature who he had just ripped the heart of as if it was nothing. "Don't be ridicoluos that thing was like an ant you could have finished this fight in 5 minutes." He looked huffy even though the last time you said that he threw a fit. "Cecil wanted to take this thing in alive." "Yeah well I wanted to talk to my partner and not have to come out here to the middle of nowhere." Sometimes this man pushed you to your limits. "Fine what did you need Mark" He looked at you without a hint of irony or shame and said : "I wanted to know if you wanted me to get Chinese food before you came home"

Eyeless Mark (20/20)

~ Such a whiny brat.

~ He stews in whatever made him mad and when you ignore his phone calls he definitely just sits at home stewing in how you've ignored him and how he's basically nothing to you.

~ You will come home to the silent treatment and passive agressive bullshit that you're going to have to be super nice to him and suck up to him to get him out of it.

"Mark, come on. I said I was sorry." You watched as he continued to fold his arms and ignore you. "I was working, and I didn't have my phone on me. I'm sorry." The fucker just picked up the remote sitting next to him and turned up the volume higher. "Really, silent treatment. Can we please act like adults?" Still nothing. This is how it went for the rest of the day until dinner. You tried your hardest, you begged, you bribed, and even did the silent treatment back, but Mark still ignored you. So you decided to bring out the big guns. He was back to sitting in front of the TV watching a show, but you could tell that you caught his attention when you walked into the room. You walked over to stand directly in front of him and then slid yourself onto his lap. "Mark," you kissed him on his cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't answer you." You kissed him on his forehead. " It won't happen again, I promise." You kissed him on the lips. He accepted it gladly, and he gripped your waist and pulled you even closer to him. He popped away from the kiss with a line of spit connecting the two of you. He smirked. "I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive you." He inched his hands further up and leaned in for a kiss, and then you pulled away and stood up

"Well, that's good." "Y/N, wait, where are you going?" He stood up to and watched you as you walked toward the front door. "Oh, I was gonna go eat out for dinner, didn't feel like cooking. I'm so glad we could make up, though, bye Mark." You opened the door and walked out. "Wait, I'll come with."

Mohawk Mark

~ Yeah, he's the type to leave you a voicemail, cursing you out.

~ Because why the fuck would you ever act like you can just not pick up his phone call? He will scream into the phone like a crazy person, and it will freak everyone out.

~ He will not scream that much at you. If anything, he did it because he thought it was funny and not because of any genuine anger.

"Oh fuck Mark called me while we were fighting." You were covered in sweat, and heaving even though Eve looked like she hadn't even broken a sweat. "Damn and he left a voicemail." "Oh, what did he say?" She leaned over your shoulder and watched as you clicked on the voicemail your boyfriend had sent you. "Y/N. DON'T YOU EVER IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE THINK THAT YOU CAN HAND UP ON ME YOU SON OF A BITCH. PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE." The line went dead, and you and Eve just stared at each other. "You should probably call him." "Yeah," You stared at the phone in silence as you called Mark until he picked up. "Hi Mark, what did you need?" You heard him shuffling around, and then the sound of him shoveling something in his mouth. "There are no more chips; you should pick some up on your way home." "That's all?" "Yep, see ya."

[4ngelrealm]

Karma

nico hischier x reader

𝗞𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗔, n. hischier: for the last night of your show in new jersey you decide to change the lyrics of your closing song karma and dedicate them to your boyfriend. ( popstar!reader; fluff; established relationship )

The energy from the crowd was buzzing through you as you soaked in the applause, the claps and cheers seeming to go on forever. The whole feeling was surreal; a stadium full of people singing along to your music, cheering for you. You were truly living your dream and when you started the tour, you believed nothing could make it better. You were proven wrong now, staring out into the crowd.

The lights were bright, making it hard to see too far into the crowd, but you knew your boyfriend was out there and it made your heart race. You and Nico were a relatively new thing, especially to the public―ten months total, three months public―but you felt connected to him in a way you'd never felt with anyone else.

You bit your lip to hide a smile, excited for what you had planned. You hadn't told anyone it was happening, keeping the idea a surprise for Nico (and the dancers on stage with you). You raised the mic to your lips, slightly out of breath from the previous song, but glowing with energy nonetheless.

"Jersey!" You said excitedly. "You guys have given me absolutely everything that you have tonight, so I feel guilty asking... but could you spare just one more song's worth of your time!"

You giggled as the music kicked in, you and your dancers falling into a familiar rhythm. As the shows progressed, you'd gotten much more in tune with each other and you yourself had gotten much more comfortable with the choreography, allowing you to truly let loose, have fun, and be yourself on stage.

The song flew by in a blur of bright stage lights, colorful sparkling jackets, and the screams of an adoring crowd. As you neared the end of the bridge you giggled with giddy excitement, changing the second to last line of the bridge.

What used to be "Karma is the guy on the screen..." became "Karma is the captain of the team... coming straight home to me." Your smile was wide as you continued the song, so much so that you could hear the smile in your voice as you sang. As the crowd cheers grew abundantly louder, you realized that the lyric change had been received and you could only imagine the look on Nico's face.

As the song came to a close and you finished the show with thanks, and bows, all you could think about was heading backstage to see Nico. Your pace quickened after you walked off stage, ignoring the ache in your feet. The adrenaline clung to you, making you practically shake as people rushed around you in post-show craze.

You returned your mic and ear pieces to the sound guys first, holding light conversation with the people around you, but your eyes flit over the people backstage looking for one person.

When you finally spotted him, your legs acted first. You ran over to him in a blur of messy hair and sparkles, wrapping your arms around his neck with a wide smile.

"Hey, sweetheart." He greeted, his smile just as wide as yours.

He returned your hug with fervor, wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting your feet slightly off the floor. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, breathing him in as you slowed your breathing and let the excitement of the night wear off. Nico pressed a light kiss to the crown of your head, his lips lingering.

"Show was great." He murmured, lowering his lips to your ear. "Especially that last song. Was that for me?"

His voice was teasing, soft―as if it was an inside joke between the two of you.

"Who else?" You tease back, picking your head up from his shoulder.

Your smile softened as your eyes met Nico's, his adoration hard to miss and you knew you looked at him exactly the same way. He grinned, stepping back just an inch―enough to see you, but not too much where he'd have to let you go.

"And the red jacket..." He observed, his thumbs rubbing your waist. "You're going to kill me."

You hummed, stepping back into his space even closer than before. You tilted your chin up, nose brushing his chin. Your eyelashes fluttered as you stared up at him, biting your lip softly. You moved a hand to weave into Nico's hair, pulling him close until your lips brushed.

"Someday." You shrugged, your lips brushing his.

Nico closes the gap between the two of you, his hands a steady presence at your waist. The kiss is sweet, tasting vaguely of your lipstick and whatever drink he'd had during the concert, but also something so familiar. So him. Your chest presses close to Nico's, completely consumed by him; his taste, his touch, his smell.

Your panting breath lingers between the two of you, neither of you parting for long.

"I love you." He whispers against your lips. Each word brushes against your lips and Nico moves back in, pressing the words into your mouth.