#and then i have my wrist appointment friday

[lordsardine]

.

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

....

[bordonfreeman]

I hate that any kind of cleaning has become an all day job for me.

I used to be able to clean off the table and sweep and mop the floors in a few hours at most.

Now i have to take a 15-30 minute break every 15-30 minutes because my body is actively fighting being active in any way, and i get soo tired so easily and if i push myself at all i feel sick.

[nadvs]

both sinners (part two)

pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug use

summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.

{ masterlist }

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

When Rafe wakes up in his bed, bits and pieces of last night drift into his mind.

He remembers watching you on stage. And touching you while you danced on his lap. And going upstairs with you.

And at the end of it all, asking for your number. But he can’t place if you actually gave it to him.

When he finds your contact info in your phone, he’s relieved. He wants to replay last night. It felt like a dream. He texts you: when are u working next?

You eventually reply: lol you asked me this like ten times last night

Rafe: and whats the answer

You: friday

His lips twist in frustration. He can’t wait that long.

Rafe: are u coming to my party tonight

You: wasn’t planning on it

Rafe: well plan on it

You look down at your phone in amusement. You’d overheard the girls at work talking about this in the dressing room before. Some customers do this - they get infatuated by a stripper, by the fantasy of you being their plaything.

Unless the customer is a creep, going along with it is basically a guarantee of a steady flow of cash from them. The thing is, you don’t really have to play it up. You genuinely had fun with Rafe.

You tease him in your reply, texting: hmm fine i guess.

You’d been at Rafe’s house for parties a few times before, but every time, the vastness and luxury of his home nearly jolts you.

The place is swarming with partygoers, music loud and conversations louder. You’re with your group of close friends, some fellow dancers and some not, as you make your way through the crowded foyer.

When you spot Rafe sitting on a couch, counting and fanning out $20 dollar bills of what you’re sure is his drug money, you let your friends know you’ll find your way back to them.

When you approach him, you put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks up, a smile spreading on his face as soon as he realizes it’s you.

“Do I owe you for the bump last night?” you ask him. He stops to think about it.

“Yeah, actually, you do.”

“No problem. I made a lot of cash last night,” you tease. Nearly half a thousand dollars solely from him, to be exact.

He takes your wrist and pulls you down onto his lap. You giggle, placing an arm around his shoulders as he encircles you in his arms, the cash now a bundle in his fist.

He’s so damn possessive. And grabby.

“You’re not paying me back that way,” he murmurs to you. You smirk, looking down at his mouth.

Rafe is already getting hard. The feeling of you on his lap, your ass pressed against his thigh, your short dress, that smile… Fuck.

“Didn’t see that coming,” you say sarcastically.

He cradles your jaw to kiss you. He loves the feeling of claiming you in public like this. There’s something so fucking hot about being the one you’re choosing to be with when so many other men thirst over you.

“What the fuck took you so long to get here?” he rasps.

“Did we make an appointment?” you flirt. He grips your thigh hard, biting his bottom lip.

“Get up,” he says, shuffling beneath you. Excitement tingles through you as he stands and takes your hand to lead you through the groups of rowdy people.

On the way upstairs, a guy stops Rafe asking to buy a gram, but he only pats his shoulder and tells him he’ll find him later. You’re his priority right now.

His bedroom is massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the beach. You can only hear the waves and faint music and your own heartbeat as Rafe shuts the door, making sure to turn the light on.

He’s going to see all of you this time, with no dim club lighting shadowing any part of your body.

He immediately pushes up against you, his groin at your ass.

“Take it off,” he mutters. You’re used to undressing for men, but doing it for Rafe is ecstasy. You can’t wait to feel him inside of you.

You hike up your dress and pull it off to feel his hands on your bare skin immediately. He’s rough as he squeezes your tits and trails a hand down between your legs, pressing his fingers up against you.

“No stupid fucking rules here,” Rafe says.

“Not like you’d follow them.”

He smiles. You’re right. He’s been looking forward to fucking you how he wants you to. The handjob last night was mind-blowing, but he wants you entirely, to absolutely ravage you.

Arousal twists inside you as he rubs the tips of his fingers up and down over your panties.

“Bend over,” he orders. You obey, feeling his hand on the back of your neck, forcing you down. You put your hands on the plush rug.

Your legs are spread and your ass is in the air as he pulls your underwear down to your knees. His hands run over your bare cheeks, then spread you open.

Rafe exhales sharply. You’re fucking perfect. He lowers onto his knees and when you feel his tongue against your cunt, you tremor, almost losing strength in your legs.

“Don’t move,” he says against you. With your hands and feet on the floor, he starts to languidly lap at you. His tongue dips and glides, his breath hot against you with his fingers still digging into your flesh.

You’re dizzy. From the pleasure. From the way your body is bent over. From the ache you feel for him.

One of his hands slides off your ass, and within moments, you feel two of his fingers push into you.

“Shit,” he groans in a whisper. He starts to scissor his fingers, earning moans from you. “You’re so fucking tight. I don’t know if I’ll fit.”

From the way his cock felt in your hands last night, you’re not so sure, either.

“We’ll make you fit,” you say through shallow breaths. Rafe grins to himself. That was the best thing you could’ve said.

You feel him withdraw his fingers. The sound of him unzipping his pants makes you arch your back in anticipation. Big hands push your hips down to guide you onto your knees.

You bite your bottom lip, drunk on the feeling of his fascination with you. He’s going to take you right here on the floor; he couldn’t even wait another few extra seconds to get you on his bed.

Rafe strokes himself, hungrily looking down at your slick core. He pulls out the condom he was keeping in his back pocket specifically for this, opening the package and rolling it on.

You look back once you hear the crinkling of the wrapper.

“They make those in your size?” you purr, stroking his ego. At this point, you’re professionally trained in making men feel good about themselves, but right now, you’re genuinely complimenting him because you want to.

Rafe breathes a chuckle, his hand running up and down your back. He’s never had a girl flatter him like this. He’s not usually rendered speechless, but you have the power to do it to him.

He lines his tip up against you, his groin stiff, avidity consuming him. When he starts to push into you, he feels you tighten around him. He throws his head back with his mouth agape at the feeling of you squeezing him.

“Tell me to stop if I need to,” he says gruffly, slowly sinking in.

“Okay,” you breathe, his hands cupping your hips. The pressure is unreal as he gets deeper, and you feel your body tense.

“Wait,” you say, head hanging. You breathe in and out slowly, feeling his thumbs rubbing over your skin as he waits for you. After a few breaths, you’re ready.

“Okay,” you say. “Keep going.”

He continues to slowly dig into you and once he reaches in to the hilt, his hips against your ass, you wriggle to get used to him.

“Good?” he huffs.

“Yeah,” you say, rocking back. He smirks at the way you’re pushing against him. He pulls back, then drives back into you, pleasure filling him.

His pace quickens and soon he’s slamming into you, the sounds of your wet skin slapping together and your heavy breathing taking over the room.

Rafe feels nothing but pure euphoria as he fucks you, looking down at his cock disappearing into your perfect cunt. Your ass shakes with every thrust, reminding him of how you danced last night, of how he wants to keep coming to the club to watch the way you own the stage and writhe on that damn pole.

He cums in hard, long pulses, his fingers digging into your hips so hard that it hurts. Once he’s done, he watches the way your dripping cunt slowly wanes after being stretched out by him.

You turn to look at Rafe as he stands and pulls off the condom, his load pooled at the end of it. He is absolutely disheveled. His hair is a mess and sweat sheens his forehead.

“Get on the bed,” he says through heavy breaths.

You go to lie down on his plush sheets while he gets rid of the condom, and when he comes back, he lies on his front and immediately dips his head between your legs.

You arch your back and breathe out a sigh of surprise. He actually wants to make you cum, instead of only chasing his pleasure. You’re glad he’s not as selfish as his ego makes him out to be.

You dig your fingers into his soft hair as he runs his tongue up your middle. When he starts to flick it over your clit, he looks up to make eye contact with you.

The way your lips part and your brows furrow in pleasure is so fucking pretty to him.

You’re on fire as he licks and sucks, his hands resting on your inner thighs to keep your legs spread wide.

“You taste so fucking good,” he rasps.

“Yeah?” you moan, feeling like you’re withering beneath him.

“I’m the only guy you’re seeing, right?” he says, hopeful, already angry at the mere idea of you fucking around with other men.

“Right,” you say. He nods and continues to work his mouth on you, his jaw getting sore, until an orgasm rolls through you.

When Rafe watches the way you tremble and hears the way you whimper, he decides he wants to make you cum whenever he gets a chance to simply so he can watch you do this.

As you come down from your peak, Rafe takes out his wallet and drops a few $100 bills on the bed beside you.

“You don’t have to pay me,” you impulsively say. Damn. It might be stupid to turn down any money he’s willing to give you.

“I want to,” Rafe says to your relief. Maybe you’ll get used to his money, he hopes. It’ll keep you around.

He looks down at your naked body with a satisfied grin. He always thought you were hot when he saw you at parties, but had he known fucking you would be like this, he would have made a move a long time ago.

Or he’d have gone into that strip club much sooner.

He waits for you to get dressed before you head downstairs together. He continues to party and sell coke, not letting you leave his sight.

The following Friday night, you sit in the club dressing room, putting the finishing touches on your makeup before your shift.

When you step out onto the stage, you can’t see the audience clearly, but you know Rafe is watching. He told you he would be.

Rafe sits near the back, sipping a drink, watching you in amazement. You’re in a flimsy, sheer pink dress. It’s hiding absolutely nothing. He can’t believe he gets to fuck you.

This is a new, conflicting sensation. He likes that so many men want you and only he gets the satisfaction of being inside you, but so many eyes on you makes him jealous at the same time, like these strangers even imaging fucking you is too much.

Maybe he can’t take this like he thought he could.

He watches you writhe and grind and twist on the pole, his dick hardening. He’s definitely fucking you after you clock out.

When you saunter off the stage towards a booth of older men, something ugly twists in his stomach.

This was inevitable. This is your job. You’re going to dance on other guys. Of course you are. But nothing he tells himself makes it better.

Rafe can’t look away, even though he should.

You smile at the stranger, your hands on his shoulders as you say something to him. He watches the man dip a bill into your bra strap.

Rafe takes another swig from his glass, the alcohol cold in his mouth.

When he sees the man reach to squeeze your chest and you swat him away, rage consumes him. He stands up quickly, still trying to somehow restrain himself, knowing you probably deal with this shit all the time.

But the man tries to grab you again.

And that’s fucking it.

Rafe rushes to the booth and grabs the motherfucker by the collar, his fist meeting his jaw hard.

(part three)

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[dimpledcherry]

would you write eddie munson x fem!reader smut?

where eddie’s chilling in his girls‘s room, bored because she’s taking a shower. he’s kinda snoopin’ around & finds a pastel pink book. he’s curious & starts reading it, realizing it’s her diary. he skips to the last page, dated just a few days ago. his eyes widen, not believing what he’s reading about his innocent girl.

sure they had sex. and not that vanilla, too. but he would’ve never thought his girl had thoughts like that. on this very page, his girl wrote her hidden fantasies. things she never even thought of telling eddie, too embarrassed. she’s talking about how she wants to call eddie „daddy“, or be choked, be humiliated to the brim, be filled by his cum till he’s dry, want him to be in complete control. she wants to be fully submitted to him.

before he can put the diary away she comes out of the bathroom, catching him. he confronts her & she tells him how embarrassed she is etc. they talk it out & he reversals that some of the stuff she likes he likes too. then they make out & they try out some of the stuff.

Oh my god you're an evil genius, time I put my 4 years of journaling to good use! - also ive been working on this all week and the 'h' key on my keyboard keeps getting stuck and its making typing no longer fun :/

Written Fantasies

Summary: ^^ the ask Pairing: Eddie x Reader Trigger Warnings: Smut / Embarrassment / hands on throats - no chocking Content Warnings: Diary Reading / blow jobs / impoliteness / shoe frontage / demands / deep throating / reader masturbation

MY EDDIE MASTERLIST BABY!!!!!!!

The space was as recognisable as the back of his hand, and as comforting as his denim vest: lightly coloured walls, cabinets around the room, shelves and counter tops filled trinkets and lifes memorabilia: photos of events, pretty candles, books, small trinkets of days out, wrist bands and broken watches that simply just meant too much.

Things changed every time he entered this space: photos changed frames, boxes gained new records, the cassette piles grew, and the books changed order.

Eddie clocked - while laying on your bed waiting for you to come back from your shower - that not only had the books changed but new ones were added. when he sat up to take a better look: there were 4 books, all identical sat up together leaning on a pile of published books.

The 4 were pink, all the same size, some slightly thicker, one especially thinner. All with individual dates written into their spines: 1983, 1984,1985, 1986. He weren't no idiot, his brain sorted that they were diaries.

He felt a twinge of pride for you to have the left out on display - almost like trophies, proud of your past. He knew a lot about you but you'd seemed to have never told him you wrote a diary. Eddie knew it was standard procedure you don't read people diary: just as you don't snoop in artists sketch books or dungeon masters binders. But who would he be kidding if he said he didn't wanna read it.

He thought a moment, concentrating and recognising the shower was still running. He didn't have to think too much, the boy was running on curiosity alone. Sat up on the edge of your bed, he leant over and pulled 1986 into his hands.

It started with him just flicking the pages: most of it empty; a few loose sheets tucked into the back; a pen clipped to the elastic closer. The filled side of the book was set out meticulously: a yearly planner already almost filled with exams, cheer practice, birthdays, appointments, dates with Eddie, every Tuesday marked with Hideout at 7, every odd Friday marked Hellfire!.

There was this warmness in his heart, knowing his life was just as important to you as it was for him. He believed every I love you, but know he understood every I love you.

He flicked through the book more: budget planners, goal pages, period trackers, and the body. Filled with your typical too-curly-to-read handwriting, every page filled line for line. Some sitting half empty signifying the end of an entry.

Eddie couldn't possibly understand what you had to write about for long that you wouldn't just tell him or your friends.

He found the dog eared page, the scruffily written date marking yesterday. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a little giddy. He knew he shouldn't but he really couldn't stop himself.

As he read down the page: a recall of your date to the record store and diner, small notes of your gushing over Eddie's chivalry (he always thought holding doors open and little pet names were usual things), a detailed explanation of his outfit and how you loved it (he read that a few times, remember to wear his little thigh harness around you more often.). And as he continued to read, the writting felt less confident, as though there as a topic waited to be hinted at.

He skipped over to the next page and down it, finding a few words grabbing his eyes: touch myself, embarrassing, chocked, him, daddy.

His eyebrows rested in his hairline, eyes almost leaving his skull, the warmth on his checks wasn't imagined. He jumped back a few lines:

Jesus I feel 14 again. I dont know why he does this to me. I see him everyday, and yet im still pinning over him like he's some untouchable deity.

He reads down

We have sex so much but like every night I end up touching myself thinking about- its so embarrassing! I feel like ive been poisoned!! literally none of my friends are like this about their boyfriends!

yeah we all talk about sex but they all have usual sex and normal fantasies but like I feel like a deviant. if I ever told anyone what I really want they'd all look at me so weird

but if I think about sex with him about him all I can think of is his hands and his lips and his voice! and if Im actually honest with myself, all I want is him. I cant stop. ive got into this habit of thinking about him before I go to bed and like every night I touch myself to him.

literally seem like I cant just have him- and I so can but I want so much more!

like if I really thought about it: I'd love him to just use me, do whatever. He could fuck me, make me fuck him, cum in me, chock me, spit on me and I'd be so fucking happy!

Or like, my brain keeps thinking to what if we're fucking and someone hears or we're almost gonna get caught and it turns me on so much! I feel like a pervert.

Eddie felt himself hold his breath.. he was no prude, under his bed was riddled with lost porn mags, he know a lot about kinks and fetishes but something about hearing from you - sweet, quite, calm you- shit! He was getting all flustered.

And like also! keep calling him Daddy in my mind too - I dont know where thats come from but it feels so right! I just really want him to just have his way with me. I dont know how on earth I tell him this. this is so embarrassing.

Eddie was transfixed by your confessions: the sound of the water had slipped his ears. Let alone, he hadn't heard the floor creak and wind chance as you entered the room.

"Jesus babe! You scared me- can't make a guy jump like that!" He yelped, the towel hitting the bed making him jump back into real time.

You laughed at him at first... until your eyes danced around him... and what he had in his hand. You didnt need to ask to know. And almost instantly you felt your body tense, mind go blank and cheek redden. Hands sat in on each other, lips rolled in, eye popping out almost. "Um-"

Confident as ever, he laid back into your pillows, straightening out his legs, "Didn't know you thought like this, Sweetheart.." He started reading, "Kinda want him to fill me until hes dry-"

You leapt onto him - to be honest the word doesn't cut it. You practically jumped on him, trying to grab the book from him but he was swift... dodging your hands artfully as he continued reading. His light and teasing voice was harmonised by your loud commands for him to stop. The room had laughter too: Yours was embarrassment and his was humour.

After a particularly wobbly Eddie! he put the book down, giving you a perfect moment to sling it back onto your cabnit. "Please stop." You frowned.

"Awe sorry baby," He laughed, pulling you down for a cuddle, "It's really hot though." You whined, "It is! Fuck babe," He sighed, "I really didn't think you'd wanna do anything like that!" It surpassed you how he had this ability to never be ashamed or embarrassed about anything. He dipped his head into your neck, "Like being chocked, filled with my cum. fuck, even messy..."

"Shut up!" You leant up, hands flying to his face, coving his mouth and you were straddled to his hips. "I can't believe you- I'm so embarassed!"

"Why?" Earnest and lovie as he moved your hands down.

"You were never meant to find out..."

"Why, you know im into anything?"

"Embarassing."

"No its not."

"yes, it is."

"You know," he started rubbing your thighs, "I'd love to fuck you dumb, fill you up, have you all messy-"

Now you'd be lying if you said he wasn't affecting you- you were embarrassed but so secretly turned on. Your tummy tensed, the blood went to your head, your thighs stiffened. But still your embarrassment was bigger, "Stop making fun of me!"

"Baby baby baby" He cooed, pulling your hands from your face, "I promise i'm really not."

You whined at him, he mimicked you back, pulling you down for a delicate honest kiss. It was deep and slow, him offering his truth to you. And who wouldn't melt into that? His hands now found your hip and your neck, in to your lips his mumbled "Roll over."

You gasp as he rearranges you both, your back now to the bed, "Wanna try something." He sat up continuing, "We can't your little sexual fantasies now-" You squirm in embarrassment, "But" He began stroking your cheek in efforts to pull you out your head. "I wanna try something new.""

He leant down planting a sweet kiss to your lips though you tried to chase him for a second, he was already moving down into your neck, planting even sweeter ones there. You could never stay quiet for his sightly chapped lips and heavy hands - small mewls slipped from you. "Good girl." Quiet, practically breathed from Eddie.

"We can't try the public-people-home stuff, but" another neck kiss, "I do.." another kiss to the other side, "really like the idea" a kiss under your ear, "of having you fully submitted" a kiss to the shell of your ear "to me"

The way you gasp makes Eddie sure he's hit gold with you. As he talks, your hand in his hair pulls and squeezes more, "How about," He moves along to kiss your cheek, "I get you on your knees" Another kiss, "no pillow, because desperate whores don't deserve kind treatment." A light kiss to your lips, "And I let you blow me?" Another kiss, "But" Kiss "I'll be holding your head," He was now resting on his forearms, fingers lost in your hair, "Pushing and pulling you exactly how I want?" Another light kiss met with a hearty pull of your hair, "Fill that little mouth up with my cum."

God you were in heaven - how did you manage to get a boy like him. All you felt you could do was nod at him. A tap of your thigh and you were on the floor kneeling between his legs as he sat on the edge of your bed.

Looking up at him, the shy coy expression fell naturally on you, "Pretty girl, aren't you?" He complimented. "Get on with it then." It was like a switch was flipped.

Excitedly, you get his belt and jeans off. His dick was hard and pretty as ever - not too big but a little wide, a more red tint than the rest of him already bleeding pre cum.

You got personal with it, licking the beed off, replacing it with a kiss. Eddie couldn't help the sigh - you ruin him on the daily no matter what you do. You could get lost playing with his head. He helped by tucking your hair behind your ears, keeping his hands on your lower head and jaw.

The kisses turn into kitten licks met with you looking up at him, his spaced out satisfied look made you smile, "Shit- open your mouth for me."

Sat up a bit more, the head of is cock resting on your lower lip, palms lost behind his calves: you were ready to try something you never thought you'd get to. The hands in your hair pushing you down slowly, and pulled you back up even more delicately - he giving both of you the space to gauge how yous felt.

"Suck it a bit harder" You did. "fuck-you love this, don't you?" You nod.

It was really all he needed - he didn't even need verbal confirmation, just the feel of your nails in the backs of his legs and how your eyes were rolled back and closing was enough, not to mentions the light noises in your throat. He pushed you down with more force, hands now cupping your cheeks and jaw.

He didn't make you deep throat him - neither of you needed to go that far at the moment. The half of his dick that was still straining your jaw send your brains both tumbling.

Eddie yanked you off him with a rough tug to your hair pulling a throat whine out of you, "Shit babe- you're a little slut aren't you?"

You nodded dumbly, "For you- love you."

"I love you too," A thumb stroked your cheek, "Daddy loves you."

Maybe it was the name. Maybe it was the humiliating reminder he had read you diary. Maybe it was the whispering in the empty quiet house. Maybe it was just him. But you were sure he'd just written you off to hell. You felt a beed of slick drop from your cunt.

And Eddie practically felt it too: he could see the haze covering your pretty eyes and the cheeky smile that covered your face.

A thumb toyed with your lip, he continued, "Gotta get you a little collar with my name on it." And with that you basically purred at him. Eddie was sure he was lost in you as you started to barely suck his thumb.

He'd never had you so spaced and floaty. Sure you've both spoken through sex before but nothing like this, nothing so painfully skilled in what the other actually needs to hear. Sex had never felt so possessive until right now.

The sight of you both was like it was from a porno: you, puffy lipped, half lidded eyes and big breaths; Eddie, pointed look, panting, loved up eyes.

The other hand dropped from your cheek and sat around your neck back - the pressure alone made your eyes flutter - and the sight went straight to his dick.

He popped his thumb out your mouth and brung you up for a dirty, messy, deep kiss. No coordination, just lust. Teeth smacking teeth, uncomfortable postures, hands gripping and clawing where ever they could.

He pulled away, standing up as if to leave. But you whine is stopped when you see he leant against your cabinet. Very idolly, he picked up the diary searching for the place he left off on, commanding a "Come here" using his fingers to make a curling motion, not even bothering to look up at you. "Crawl" He sneers almost as you go to get up.

Granted the space wasn't so big so the crawl was more of an awkward on-you-knees- shuffle but boy did that embarrassment climb back up inside you. If this was with anyone else, the pang of embarrassment woulda been too much, but something in Eddies low murmured tone did something totally new to you. "You're a good little pet, aren't you?"

His eyes never left the book in front of him: flicking through pages, scanning for the right sentence. He began reading off again. Completely as though it was the Sunday news paper and not your kinkiest secret fantasies.

"Eddie stop-"

"You know thats not my name." Eyes still in the book, tone stern and cold. You positioned on your claves between his legs, just waiting. "Thought you liked this? I know this isn't as good as being caught but its pretty close, right?" Finally he looks over.

The sudden feeling of something under you made you squirm, "Go on," He continued, "Get yourself off while I read your silly little diary."

The feeling that swelled in your belly was indescribable. It was overwhelming, unignorable and life changing. Like a duckling to its mother, you blindly listened: beginning to slowly rub yourself on the top of his foot.

"Suck my cock too, Sweetheart." He completely disregards you, finally finding his place on the pages. But he didn't start reading until he could feel your lips kiss his cock head.

You try to loose yourself in kissing him and the weight on your tongue but the perching reminder of what he is reading keeps pulling you out. The blood in your ears and the cotton in your brain were getting thicker.

You felt a ring or two pull on the strands of your hair, your gasps causing you to suck his in harder. You felt the rings apply more of a push at certain points of Eddies reading.

It's all sort of too dirty to really feel like its real life. Nobody really experiences this stuff right? Like it's all just movie magic? Clearly not. Clearly somehow you'd hit the jackpot. Somehow in small little irrelevant Hawkins in the mid 80s, you'd met the jack pot.

The sound of a book hitting a surface pulls you from your slack, readjusting yourself back to the present, you felt two hands play with your hair with more intent.

"Fuck-you sure know how to suck a dick, don't you?" He tucked some behind your ear, making you look up at him "Who taught you that?"

"You-da-daddy." Jumbled delivery thanks to the cock in your mouth.

"Sorry couldn't hear you."

"da-daddy" You tried, but sadly coming out more like 'dabby' thanks to the 5 inch obstruction in your throat.

The palms by your ears tighten, "good" It was almost like an extended sigh, "You gonna take it? Tap me if it's too much, yah?" Serious and caring, you nod.

"Yes" You respond to the eyebrow raise, "Yes daddy."

"Good little thing, aren't you?" Another tuck of your hair, and he pulled your head back in opposition to his hips going forward. He was using you clearlessly, not yet pushing you down as deep as he could, but rather just enjoying your lightness.

The room enters a soundtrack of hisses and hums, some slurps and some groans.

"I told you to get yourself off." It wasn't rude but you felt like you were being told off. Your heart pinged in your chest.

It was annoying how good it felt. Yes your knees stung and the carpet has turned into staples but who cared. The hands behind your ears making you deep throat him were heaven, the foot under your clit was heaven, Eddies musky smell was heaven.

Hums and hisses turned into the sound of fabric rubbing and small 'fuck's and 'shit's. And at this rate the streams of dribble coming off your chin and too the floor was definitely anything but disgusting.

Looking up at him and seeing him looking down, heaven too. "Gonna cum in your mouth." You really couldn't help the whorish whine. "Don't swallow it."

Something about that single demand got you were you needed it too. The swelling between your legs seemed to his its peak, the sheen of sweat tripped and your body felt like it was burning. Finger burring into his thighs, tummy tensed: you came over his foot, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.

Eddie using this as the perfect moment to use you. Seeing a moment where you'd given him your everything, he gripped you harder and thrusted deeply into your throat.

Still in your post orgasm haze, the 2 boney hands drag you up by your arm pits, a leg helps keep you stood. "Open." You couldn't even see him at the moment, but you knew behind the black was a man staring at you with all his love.

So you did as he told. Mouth open, cum threatening to spill, "Good, swallow." There was a hand to your throat, and them butterflies danced again. And then there was a light press to your lips that helps bring your eyes back open.

Neither of you could help getting lost a bit in the other - this was a big step, a big new, a good thing too! Eddie broke your moment off and tucked you into his chest, coddling you.

"I love you"

"I-love- you too"

He laughed at your breathiness. "Can we have an actual conversation about this now"

"Gimme a minute- I think my brains all mush."

He laughed again and gave a kiss to your hair.

[propertyofkylar]

crawls in covered in blood

Harper 19 👀?

doctor's orders - m!harper x gn!pc

tags/warnings: 19. kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, medical kink, reader's genitalia left ambiguous

word count: 1810

note: wow....i hope THE harperfucker enjoys this...

“Mhm. And how has your mood been lately?”

You shifted slightly in your chair, sitting on your hands. Dr. Harper was a strange one. He was something of a therapist and psychiatrist. But he also treated injuries, and you had heard he’d even done gynecology work, so you still weren’t entirely sure what kind of doctor he even was. But the pills he prescribed worked well, so you came every Friday to see him. 

“Um,” you hedged a bit, but Harper’s encouraging smile urged you forward. “I mean, it’s not great. You know? Things kinda…suck.”

Harper nodded as you spoke, looking the perfect image of a doctor as he jotted down something on his notepad.  

“So I guess I’ve just been kind of…down. If that makes sense?” You offered. 

Harper nodded again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Huh?” You hadn’t expected that. Harper offered you a warm smile. 

“I’m experimenting with more herbal remedies,” he explained. “I’ve purchased some tea leaves that claim to help with feelings of depression and anxiety. I thought you might like to try some. I know you like the pills, so this would just be a supplement of sorts. It may help lift your mood, even just a bit.”

Something made you feel a little uneasy. But your doctor had never steered you wrong before. And it was just a cup of herbal tea. What’s the worst thing that could happen? It would taste bad?

So, you nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Harper gave you another smile and stood up, busying himself with an electric kettle in the corner of the room. You watched idly from your seat. Maybe a warm cup of tea would be exactly what you needed. 

Several minutes later, Harper handed you a steaming mug. An herbal smell of chamomile, lavender, and something else you didn’t recognize wafted towards you. “If you like it, I’ll send it home with you along with your meds.”

You thanked the doctor and took a sip. It was warm with a mildly sweet taste. “It’s good,” you said, going back in for another sip. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Harper said. 

At the very least, a warm drink would make you feel better temporarily. The doctor made idle chitchat with you as you continued drinking. By the time you had emptied the mug, though, your head was feeling a little fuzzy. 

“Are you alright?” Harper asked, only seeming mildly concerned. “The herb blend does have a relaxing effect. It may be that it’s making you tired. 

“Mm…yeah…” you rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling groggy. “Haven’t been sleeping well lately…”

“Don’t worry,” Harper was leaning forward in his chair, almost in anticipation. “Close your eyes. My next appointment isn’t for a while. You can sleep here for a bit, no worries.”

“‘Kay,” you murmured, your eyes shutting of their own accord. “Just a lil bit…”

You were out like a light. 

When you came to, you had no idea where you were. 

It didn’t feel like you were still in the hospital, though it still seemed like a doctor’s office of sorts. But the light was harsh and artificial, and you got the feeling this room wasn’t used too often. 

Also, your arms were bound to the bed, which wasn’t great. 

“Mm?” You were still quite groggy, so actual words didn’t come out of your mouth. You suddenly became aware of a figure looming over you, smiling. “D-doctor…?”

Harper undid your arm bindings, inviting you to sit up. “Sorry for that! I didn’t want you to move around or get violent in your sleep. The…tea effects are a little unpredictable.”

You rubbed at your sore wrists - how long had you been like this? - as you took in the surroundings. “Where did you take me?”

Harper rolled a chair next to the bed, stroking your hair in a rather unprofessional manner. “This is my private office. You need a more intensive therapy.”

You blinked. “I do?”

Harper nodded. “Yes. Your depression and anxiety is rather treatment resistant. I want to try some different things with you to help you get better,” he slid his hands to hold yours. They were cold and smooth. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

There was something wrong. Something was off. But your brain felt so, so fuzzy. “Yeah…that sounds nice.”

Harper beamed and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Now, let’s begin,” he pulled his notepad out and studied it closely. “You say you’ve experienced rape and sexual assault. Is this right?” 

You shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…yeah.”

He nodded again and checked something off on the notepad. “Good. Then we are going to have sex.”

“What?!” Your ears were ringing. Did he just say that?

Harper set down the notepad and looked closely at you. “You say the assaults cause you trauma. Correct? I can show you how sex can be pleasurable and it will sort of rewire your brain.” He smiled placidly at you. “Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

It was weird. Something felt off. But…you trusted him. So you found yourself agreeing.

“Good!” Harper smiled warmly at you, standing up in front of you. Despite the smile, there was something oddly intimidating about him. But he was a doctor, and you weren’t. So it was probably okay. Right? 

The doctor sat next to you on the bed, moving closer then he’d ever been. “The first step is foreplay. This usually begins with kissing. Are you comfortable with that?” His breath was warm on your face. You nodded. 

And then the two of you were kissing, Harper’s mouth surprisingly cold, much like his hands were. “Very good,” he murmured. Harper practically tugged you into his lap and your patient gown rode up, making you suddenly very aware that there was nothing on underneath. Wait, weren’t you in a therapy session before? Where did your clothes go…?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you realized you could feel Harper’s cock rubbing against your most sensitive areas. The feeling drew a whimper out of you, which sparked Harper to reach under the gown and grab at your back. 

“P-please,” you whined, grinding down on Harper. 

But he did not relent. “Please what?” He asked. “You need to be specific.”

“Please…” you sucked in a deep breath. “Please, fuck me.”

“Very good,” Harper pulled away and beamed. “You’re a very good patient. You learn quickly.”

He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small tube. As he squeezed the slimy fluid onto his fingers, you realized what it was - lube. “This may be cold,” Harper said before slipping two fingers into your hole. You bit down on your lip and groaned as the doctor scissored his fingers inside of you. It felt good, but it also felt methodical and practiced.

You pawed at the bulge in Harper’s pants, which he was not expecting judging by his sharp intake of breath. “T-that’s enough,” he stammered, momentarily losing his cool composure. “I think you’re ready now.”

Harper pulled his hand back and unzipped his pants. With one movement he tugged down his pants and boxers and you were suddenly staring directly at his thick cock. It was flushed and twitching, and the bead of precum on the tip gave you the sudden urge to lick it. 

But that wasn’t what was going to happen, at least not today, as Harper was stroking his dick with additional lube, and the way he was looking at you - no, leering - was decidedly unprofessional. You were too far gone at that point, though. The only thought in your head was how badly you needed that cock inside of you.

Your doctor grabbed you by the hips and, ever-so-slowly, lowered you down onto his cock. Harper practically hissed as you sunk further and further onto him, until your hips were flush with his. 

“V-very good,” Harper managed to get out, his face turning red. This was an act you were quite familiar with, and your instincts kicked in. You started moving up and down, Harper’s hands still gripping you tightly, and he began rocking his hips in unison.

Harper seemed practiced in every aspect, with his cock managing to hit every sensitive spot inside of you. He was consistent, too. Every thrust was almost rhythmic. It made the hospital bed creak and squeak, and if you weren’t almost entirely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve worried about its stability. But all you could focus on was riding Harper and how fucking amazing it felt. Maybe it was that tea you had, or maybe your doctor was just that good at fucking.

His grip on your hips only added to the pleasure and you quickly began feeling heat intensifying within you.

“I think,” you tried to start but were cut off by your own moan. “I’m gonna…” 

“Cum,” Harper said plainly, though clearly struggling to stay calm. “You can cum. It’ll - haa - be good for you and your…fffucking treatment.”

You didn’t need Harper to tell you twice, his hips slamming into you. You grabbed onto his shoulders and cried out as the orgasm wracked your entire body. You squeezed your eyes shut, but when you opened them, you noticed Harper was staring intently at you. It felt as though he was staring into your soul.

After several more thrusts, you could tell Harper was about to hit his limit as well. Never easing up on his grip, Harper held you down as he came, filling your insides with his hot cum. The two of you stayed connected for a few moments before he gently pulled you off, you letting out a whine at the loss of contact. Harper quietly studied his cum leaking out of your hole and dripping down your leg, then jotted down a few more notes in his notebook. You wondered what he was writing.

“Well,” Harper smiled at you, straightening his clothes out. “You did a great job. You’re a fast learner. I hope that was pleasurable.”

You could only nod in response.

“However,” Harper looked down at his notebook with a slight frown. “I’m afraid you still have a long way to go. This is only the beginning. I’ll need to keep you here at least for a few more days for further studying and treatment.”

“Oh…” you mumbled. In your post-orgasmic state, you struggled to understand what was going on. But maybe a longer stay wouldn’t be so bad.

Harper stood up, clutching his notebook to his chest, and gave you a few soft pats on the head. “No worries. I’ve already communicated with your guardian and school, so everything will be just fine.” He gave you another grin, one that felt a little less genuine, and made you feel a little uneasy. “Trust me. There is no better place for you to be right now than right here.”

And with that, he left the room.

[josphitia]

TW: Therapy, unsupportive therapist

Josie's Cow HRT Journey, part 3 - The Therapist

“Yeah, yeah. 1992. Mhmm. No, it's for my wife. Do you do telehealth? No, I didn't think so. Friday at 2pm works perfectly. Yes that's her email, she'll fill out the paperwork and send it in. Thanks, hope you have a good day as well.” *Click*

Jojer looked over to me with a smile and said “Okay! I helped you make the appointment. It'll be tomorrow at 2.” I jumped up to give Jojer a hug that caused them to audibly exhale. I buried my face into their neck, expressing my gratitude at their help and support with a newfound habit of mine: A high pitched “Moooo!” Now was the hardest part of any highly anticipated event: Waiting.

_______________________

The therapist’s office was on the end corner of a small, but busy, strip mall. My husband and I entered the lobby, simple folding chairs on either side of a bookshelf displaying a plastic plant and outdated magazines were the only furnishings. I spoke to the receptionist and confirmed my appointment. It was happening.

Before I had time to properly sit the receptionist opened the door: “Josie?” I darted up, my husband following suit until the receptionist stopped him: “Sorry, patients only. You'll have to wait in here.” I turned to him as he reassured me that I had this. I was scared to be alone, but a singular notion filled my mind: It was happening!

The therapist’s office was sparse of detail. A few degrees in cheap frames dotted the wall behind a surprisingly expensive-looking desk. A leather chair was positioned opposite the desk. “Please, have a seat” spoke a bespectacled man with thinning hair, as he gestured in front of him. I sat on the edge of the seat as best I could, the less of my body I had on this bovine-skin chair the better.

The man adjusted his glasses to get a better look at a clipboard before him. “Good afternoon, Miss Josie. And how are you doing?” he asked, eyes never leaving the clipboard.

“I'm doing good!” I said eagerly. It was happening~!

The man continued to scan the clipboard. “That’s good. So, looking over the paperwork you submitted I see you've been on HRT for a number of years. Are you unsatisfied with your results?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “N-no, I'm happy with the changes I've had. I'm happy being a woman. I wouldn't change it for anything.”

The man peered at me over his glasses. “And yet you're here? For I can only assume is Animal HRT?”

My shoulders started to slump. My back was feeling heavy. I was prepared. I practiced what I would say. I was confident, but now I felt the energy draining out through my arms. “Y-yeah, yes…”

He flicked his wrist with a flair of dismissiveness. “Well this is a big step. It doesn't seem like you've put a lot of thought into this. What is it, you think being a dragon will just solve your problems?”

“Cow!”

“Excuse me?”

I clenched my hands into my thighs as I met his eyes. “I'm a cow. I've always been a cow. I feel like a cow on the inside… I want my outside to reflect that. I want to see a cow in the mirror.”

The man leaned back in his chair. “Fine, cow. How much thought have you put into this?”

I felt like I had finally made a breakthrough, maybe he was understanding me now. How much I needed this. “It's been all I can think about for weeks now. It's like a light’s been turned on in my brain, like I can finally see what I need to do to be happy, to be happy with myself. I've been confiding in my husband about this and they're completely supportive.”

The man leaned forward. “And what about your family? Your parents?”

“Huh?”

“The rest of your family. Your parents. Have you told them about your…” He derisively flicked his wrist again for emphasis. “Want to be a cow?”

“I-I don't know what that has to do with anything.”

The man seemed larger now. “Young lady, it's my job to assess your mental preparedness for something so drastic and life changing as this.”

My world was shrinking. I couldn't see anything but the man’s face and his scrutinizing, piercing eyes. “No, I haven't told my family…”

The man relaxed. “Well, it's not the end of the world. You can still talk to them about this life choice you're undergoing.”

I straightened up. “Yeah?”

“You'll have plenty of time to prepare a way to talk to them over the next two years.”

My body froze. I knew what he was going to say next, but it didn't make the wound his words caused any easier to endure. “T-two years?”

The man placed both elbows onto his desk, his hands speaking just as loudly as his words. “Of course. You didn't think you'd just walk into this office and walk out with a letter, did you? I got into this profession to help people. You need to live as your chosen species for a minimum of two years before I give you my endorsement for hormones.”

I slumped fully into the chair, my hands on either side.

“And of course I'll need you to prepare for your future. You'll need to freeze your sperm, for if you ever want to have a family.”

At this, the energy returned to my stomach. “Freeze my, what?? No! I'm not going to do that!! I can’t even do that anymore!”

The man folded his hands under his chin. “Well if need be you can pause your current HRT regimen, that would allow you to produce again. I think that would be a good idea, actually.”

An arrow shot through my body. “I'm, I'm not going to get off HRT! This is who I am… I can't.”

“I need to assess whether or not you're taking this seriously. Whether you've fully comprehended how this is going to affect the people around you. From what I've seen, you're not willing to do that.”

Another arrow. “But-”

He raised his finger. “I think that's our appointment for the day. I'd like you to think about what we discussed here today and the steps you need to take for your future. My receptionist will walk you out. You're welcome to make another appointment when you feel you're ready.”

My face was on fire, I didn't want to shed tears in front of this man. I followed his receptionist to the lobby. Jojer shot up, excited to hear about my appointment and assumed success. I turned my body so as to not face him and walked out into the parking lot to the car. I walked past a beautiful giraffe woman with tired eyes and strikingly red hair. My failure stung even more seeing what I could only think of as success.

We sat in the car, my face still turned away. “Josie? What happened? Are you okay?”

I let loose the tears I tried so hard to hold. The only thing I could say, and what I said over and over, was “It's not happening.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Josie's Cow HRT Journey

First|Previous|Next

[missvelvetsstuff]

With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Last chapter.....

A few hours after they arrived, Rainbow was starting to run out of energy and trying to figure out how to leave without being rude. Bucky noticed and moved towards the hall where her room was located but before they could go a blonde woman came storming down the hall.

Bucky greeted her "Hey Yelena-"

She walked right up to Y/N "You're Y/N right? The mutant bitch that made the Avengers push my sister away."

She shoved Y/N, who stood her ground.

Rainbow shook her head "That's my name but I don't think you have the whole story. I never-"

Yelena sucker punched her and Bucky caught her before she fell "What the fuck, Yelena?"

Clint grabbed Yelena and held her back as she spat at Y/N "Natalia told me what you did so you better watch your back." And stormed off.......

Chapter 7

Bucky carried Rainbow to the sofa and set her down carefully "Are you alright doll?" He turned to Sam "Could you grab some ice for her?"

Y/N looked dazed "Who the hell was that?"

Bucky sighed as he took an ice pack from Sam and gently set it over her eye "Nats sister from the red room, Yelena. Apparently Nat told her own version of what happened. Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this."

Y/N looked nervous "Does she live here too? Maybe me staying here isn't the best idea. I can always call Charles and go back to his school."

Bucky shook his head and almost shouted "No! You don't have to go." He took a breath "Nat is only here until her vision is back to normal and Yelena is only visiting."

He looked up at Tony "Right, Stark?"

Tony nodded distractedly "Yeah, no. Neither of them are staying. Nat is doing much better. I'll ask Helen to take a look at her tomorrow. FRIDAY, can you invite Yelena to the common room and lock Nat in behind her?"

"Of course, sir."

When Yelena returned she scoffed at Y/N sitting with ice on her eye "Aawww, did the poor baby get a boo boo? Do you need a blankie and baba?" And laughed loudly.

Tony stopped Bucky from going after her "As much as she deserves it, Barnes, we won't resort to violence just yet."

He turned to face Yelena "You are a guest here and assaulting a member of my team won't be tolerated. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Yelena laughed again "Why do you have whiny little babies on your team? Why did you force Natalia out for this crying little girl?"

Y/N tried to protest "Hey, Nat made her own bed. I never did anything to her until she broke my damn wrist."

Yelena looked at her in shock "What did you say?" And started walking over towards her, only to be stopped by Bucky. She glared at him "No, I need to talk to her. What happened?"

Y/N told her side with the rest of the team confirming her account. "I thought Nat was my friend but I guess she always hated me."

"Bullshit! That's not what Natalia said at all and she would never lie to me." Yelena replied defiantly.

Tony shook his head "It turns out Nat isn't the person any of us thought she was. I don't really care what you believe, she's off the team and no longer welcome here"

He looked pointedly at Yelena "If she gets the ok from our doctor tomorrow, I think it would be in everyone's best interests if you took her with you."

He shrugged "Or not, she's out regardless."

Yelena looked at the rest of the team, then at Rainbow, and scoffed "Some family you people are. She's better off without you."

Steve nodded "and we're better off without her, something we can all agree on. We'll have Friday notify you of her appointment in the morning and then you can both go."

Yelena looked Steve up and down then shook her head and went back to Nats room.

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

Nat was stretched out on her bed, the bandages that covered her eyes were pushed up and she was reading a magazine. The sound of the door opening made her jump and she quickly set the magazine down and tried to adjust the bandages over her eyes but Yelena caught her.

Nat stammered "It's still all spotty but I keep trying, makes me feel more normal even if I'm pretending." Her brow twitched and Yelena gasped before her face turned to stone

"Really Natalia? Are you pretending you can see the pages of the magazine or pretending your sight hasn't returned."

Her voice went up as she spoke "Or was it ever really gone? Did that girl even hurt you or was that fake too?"

Yelena went to get a drink and sat angrily "So spill Natalia and you better tell me the goddamn truth because every single Avenger that's here agrees on one story and it's not the one you told me so you'd better explain yourself."

Nats lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears "You want the truth? Steve and I were together until she showed up and he dropped me like I was trash. A few months later he's afraid to push her for sex and we started up again. I told him I loved him and he laughed at me, insisted that Fury wouldn't let us be together out in the open. Claimed the public wouldn't accept it and I would hurt his reputation. I started seeing Bruce but he's afraid that sex will bring out the big guy and hurt me.  Now she's got Bucky all over her and me out on the street."

Yelena listened quietly "Did you pretend to be her friend?"

Nat laughed "Yeah, it was pathetic really, how desperate she was for a friend. I wasn't going to just let her have Steve without a fight."

Yelena nodded "And you broke her wrist?"

Nat shrugged "I needed to talk to her and she kept trying to run away. It was her fault really, she kept leaving."

Yelena grimaced "So they are telling the truth? You all saved her from Strucker and you resented her, pretended to be her friend. Instead of telling her the truth about you and Steve you blamed her for something she knew nothing about while fucking him behind her back? And pretending she blinded you. Is that about it?"

Nat shook her head "No, she really did blind me but it's much better now. I was just waiting for you so we can get away from these jerks."

Yelena sighed "Why should I trust you after you lied to me about everything?"

Nat teared up again "I was afraid you would reject me too. If you do, I don't have anyone else to turn to."

Yelena scoffed "It sounds like you've lost everyone because you're a manipulative bitch."

Nat tried to defend herself "No, but I-"

Yelena shook her head "Whatever, doesn't matter. You'll see their doctor tomorrow and if she says you're ok we'll go. You can help me free the rest of the Widows. After that you can do what you want."

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

Bucky told Rainbow to stay on the couch while he helped Sam make dinner and both men did what they could to cheer her up and help her forget about Nat and Yelena and Steve. They did a pretty good job until the food was done and the Avengers all came down to eat together.

Rainbow was seated between Sam and Bucky to keep Steve from bothering her.

Dinner was a raucous affair with the whole team together, telling stories and different versions of previous fights.

Rainbow felt someone behind her right before the entire room went silent. Nat and Yelena came up to the table and Nat sat next to Steve after filling her plate then looked at Yelena to do the same.

Tony's temper was rising until he couldn't hold his tongue "I'm sorry, this is a team dinner and you, ahem, ladies aren't part of the team.

Of course Nat took the opportunity to play victim.

"What? I can't eat with my team one last time before you kick me out onto the street? You all treat this little brat like a princess and push me aside like I'm nothing."

She scoffed as she stood "some family you are."

She gestured to Yelena "just grab a plate and we'll go back to my room. Then we're done here. I don't need Cho to check my eyes, I can see fine."

Tony shook his head and ran a hand down his face "I'm sorry but due to legal obligations I can't allow you to leave until we're sure your injury is fully healed. I don't need you coming back in a year, trying to sue me for any future problems. In fact I have some legal, separation paperwork to confirm you're no longer the team's responsibility, etc. If you get hurt, it's not our problem." He smirked at Nat "I'm sure you understand."

Nat was fuming "You can't make me stay here one more second, this is bullshit Tony."

She turned to Rainbow with a hate filled look on her face. "You might have won this round but it's not over. One of these days you won't have all these assholes around to protect you and then we'll see how tough you are."

Rainbow scoffed "Pretty sure the answer is pretty fucking tough since the only time we've fought you ended up blind and that was before I had any real control over my powers. After my time working with Loki I've learned a lot and I'm not afraid of you anymore."

Nat sneered "You'll never see me coming little girl. Just watch your back and don't depend on this fake family to help."

Rainbow stood defiantly "Take your best shot." She had a mist surrounding her that turned dark as she glared at Nat.

"They aren't a fake family, you're the fake one Natalia." she spat "Cruel and manipulative, you're only upset your games didn't work so are playing victim when you brought it all on yourself."

She shook her head and spoke softly "I feel sorry for you."

Nat screamed "I'll get you for this, bitch" threw her plate of food at the wall and stomped back to her room.

Yelena looked at the team apologetically before running after her sister.

Bucky squeezed Rainbows hand "Don't worry doll, we won't let her hurt her. As long as I'm breathing, I will always protect you."

Bucky pulled her to him and kissed her softly which made Steve groan, beating himself up for the mistakes he's made. When Bucky pulled away he gave Steve a dark look, then gave all of his attention back to her. "My beautiful and precious Rainbow." he said quietly before kissing her again.

Steve grunted and left, Tony spoke up "Look Barnes I'm glad you two found each other and all that but could you save all the lovey dovey crap for your own rooms and not the dinner table.

Bucky and Rainbow both blushed and chuckled. He kissed her hands and they sat back down to their meal both feeling a little nervous about what comes next.

Everyone else, convinced that the drama was over, for now, went back to their food and stories.

Chapter 8

[sulky-valkyrie]

Happy Friday! Maybe some Hawke & alistair being sassy friends (or more, w/e floats your goat) with ❛you’re lucky you’re cute.❜

Happy Fridayyyyyyyyyyy Kia!!!! Have a bit of sassy not-quite friends in a Modern AU slice of life moment set in the Sparkleverse.

for @dadrunkwriting

The woman had walked past Alistair so fast that he’d barely had time to stand, then barged right into the Commander’s office like she belonged here.

"Serah, he's in —"

By the time he made it to the door, it was swinging shut in his face. He reached for the knob, but a static spark zapped his fingers as the little "do not disturb" light blinked on next it. Okaaaay, then.

He went back to his chair and stared at the phone on his desk, waiting for the panic alarm to go off. It didn't. No one shouted, and when he got up to peek down the hall, everything seemed fine that way too.

He sat back down again, then got up to to press his ear to the door, straining to hear anything while pushing the guilt down for eavesdropping. I'm just making sure he's safe.

The paranoia of being caught forced him back to his seat a third time, where he drummed his fingers on the desk restlessly.

After a few uneasy minutes (long enough to choke a man, his brain supplied unhelpfully), she walked back out while absently juggling a key one-handed . The Acting Commander was still in his chair, still working, and looked irritated, but unharmed.

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

She stopped and turned. “Oh?”

Shit, I said that out loud. He shuffled his papers around an cleared his throat. It was true, of course: she was incredibly cute. Built like an athlete, short dark hair, and hazel eyes that flashed with sharp humor, like she was already laughing inside at a joke no one else had seen yet.

But saying it out loud was incredibly in poor taste. Especially when she’d just waltzed into the Commander’s office without an appointment or an escort or anything. Who in the void had that kind of clearance?

“Sorry, I was talking to… um. My dog.”

She cocked her head and leaned against the wall, twirling the key on her thumb. “Your dog.”

He offered a panicked grin and tried to talk his way out of the situation he’d talked himself into. “Well, it’s not my dog, it’s my friend’s dog.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, who has a dog — Liss! He fumbled with his cellphone to find the last picture she’s posted. “Best dog I ever met, but an absolute terrorist when he’s bored.”

She moved closer to sit on the edge of the desk. “And you were talking him,” she repeated, playing along and not believing a word he said. “Just now.”

“Errrrr, a picture of him, yes,” Alistair lied. “Because he’s lucky he’s—”

“Cute, right.” The key continued to spin on her finger, and they were such lovely fingers too, so lovely it took three revolutions before he saw what key it was. It had a custom designed head that he’d only seen once before: a red hawk with flared wings.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked.

She grinned and jerked her thumb back toward the Commander's office. "Ask him. Now, about this dog? This very cute dog you were talking to?" She fluttered her eyes. "Can I see him?"

The jig was up. He slid the phone to her wordlessly with a photo of Weisschnauzer on the screen. He was not, in fact, a cute dog. He was an unholy combination of wiry long hair that stuck out at all angles, jagged teeth that protruded around his lips, a tongue too long for his mouth, mismatched ears (one of which was always inside out), and had only three legs.

"Hm." She slid off the desk. "Tell Liss I said hi."

"What?" he asked, the shook his head and grabbed her wrist. "No, I don't even know you are, and that's the Acting Commander’s car keys, you can't just -"

The intercom crackled to life. "At ease, Recruit."

Alistair let go of her like he'd been burned. "Sir, she's got your -"

"I am all too aware of what she possesses, and what she can do it it."

She ruffled his hair, the hopped off the desk. “You’re lucky you’re cute. See you around, Al.”

Journey belongs to @dismalzelenka 💜💜💜

[em-prentiss]

three clicks and I'm home

----

Chapter 2: Dino’s and Lego’s

A series of oneshots, wherein Spencer is more or less Aaron and Emily’s eldest son.

Word count: 2.2k

prompt:

spencer has dinner on their house every friday bc jack wants to play legos with him

----

Jack had always been fascinated with Spencer. The young boy’s attention was won with a flip of playing cards, a long ramble on the history of stegosaurs. But when he discovered Spencer’s love of Lego’s, Jack was entrapped.

“Jack, time to go.” Emily lays a hand on his head, running her fingers through the blonde strands. Aaron had taken him out of school for an appointment and brought him to the BAU, piling paperwork forcing them back to the office instead of home. Jack hadn’t minded, trotting to Spencer’s desk the moment he walked in, both of them talking each other’s ears off about dinosaurs.

Now Jack frowns. He turns to Emily on his swiveling chair, his feet not yet reaching the floor. “Do we have to?”

Emily’s brows raise as Aaron walks down the stairs. “You want to stay here?” She queries, briefly throwing a look at the darkening bullpen, everyone rushing to get out the moment the clock struck 5. It was rare enough for them to be home; no one was going to spend an extra minute in there if they could help it. Yet Jack was glued to his chair.

“I wanna stay with Uncle Spence. Did you know he has Lego’s at home? Dinosaur ones!” His eyes light up and Spencer nods.

“I’ve got the Tyrannosaurus Rex, the Pterodactyl, and the Triceratops,” he lists them off on his fingers. The soft hair falling into his eyes adds more to his boyishness, and Emily’s heart grows unbearably warm at his wide grin, clearly as interested as Jack is. 

“I didn’t know that,” she smiles, though she may have had an inkling, “you have them too—”

“Can he come over for dinner?” Jack interrupts.

Spencer’s mouth claps shut. “Can who come over for dinner?” Aaron asks as he walks over, his hand landing on the back of Jack’s chair.

“Uncle Spence.” Jack replies, turning his pleading eyes to Aaron. 

Next to him, Spencer’s cheeks are lightly pink. “Ah, it’s okay Jack, I wouldn’t want to—”

“Spencer can come over,” Aaron interrupts, “if he wants to. Do you want to?” He turns his gaze to the dumbstruck boy-wonder.

Emily rests her elbow on the back of Jack’s chair. “We have dino nuggets,” she says. “You guys can throw a whole dino-fest.”

Aaron throws her a look. “Mm, maybe not dino nuggets tonight,” he gently refutes, given that Jack had had them just last night, “but pasta, maybe, if that’s fine with you.” He directs the question to Spencer. Flustered, Spencer fiddles with his cardigan. “Uh, red sauce or white?”

“Whichever,” Emily shrugs, her eyes keen on him. Making his lunch consistently along with Jack’s, she’s come to learn what exactly he likes and what he doesn’t. Summer fruits are ruthlessly tossed aside; muffins and cakes are wholeheartedly welcomed. Almost all cheeses are heartily approved.

Typical.

“Please, Uncle Spencer? It’ll be fun! We can build my Lego’s.” Jack pleads, turning to Spencer.

Emily sees Aaron open his mouth, probably about to protest—it is a school night—and she grabs his wrist, squeezing to keep him quiet. The interaction is interesting—Spencer’s obvious hesitation, unsure about overstepping in a situation he’d never been in before, but also the way he thinks it over for a second. 

Before Jack and Henry, talking to kids was an alien concept; when he did have a chance encounter with a child, they’d interrupt him randomly, ask increasingly perplex questions, and blurt out the most unasked for observations, more than likely about his appearance. The BAU kids—that’s what he dubs them in his head—are refreshingly polite, reserved but curious, and above that, familiar. Spencer’s brows draw together before he smiles at Jack, small but decided. “I’d love to, Jack. If it’s okay with you guys.” He looks up at Aaron and Emily.

“It’s okay,” they answer in unison. Emily rolls her eyes. “We’re not in the habit of making promises we don’t mean, Spencer. Now come on,” she waves her hand flippantly, gesturing for them to stand, “I’m hungry.”

****

Spencer is swept away in a whirlwind of Lego’s the moment they step through the door. Emily smiles as his and Jack’s excited chatter floats into the kitchen, tongue-twisting words falling easily from their mouths.

“At first I thought he was just humoring us,” Emily says as she stirs the pasta sauce, surprised at Spencer’s enthusiasm, “but I think he might be genuinely enjoying himself.”

Aaron smiles when Spencer’s voice pitches higher in excitement. “What he wants, more than anything, is for someone to listen,” he says quietly. Spencer devours books on the daily; his head is bursting with knowledge, knowledge Aaron knows he’s itching to share, but with their job being what it is, he rarely gets the chance to. Finding someone interested, however many years younger, is how he gets to share his knowledge—and his love.

“Jack at this age is a sponge who happens to have more questions than he does answers.” One too many times those questions had been turned to them, leaving them stumped and searching for answers online. “I think he enjoys picking Spencer’s brain just as much as Spencer enjoys sharing all his knowledge.”

Emily hums thoughtfully.

Dinner consists of even more of their chatter, bright and lively as they dive further into the perplexing world of ornithischian dinosaurs. Spencer’s eyes brighten with each question before he launches into an explanation, Jack’s excited commentary occasionally interrupting him.

“Stegosauri actually had brains the size of ping pong balls.” He says, causing Jack’s eyes to widen. “One of the early scientists who studied fossils believed that Stegosauri had a second brain in their tails, because he noticed a cavity similar to those where the brain would be—”

“That’s awesome!” Jack interrupts, his face bright with glee.

“—but it turned out to be false.” Spencer smiles sheepishly.

Jack’s face falls. 

“That’s why they’re considered to be the least intelligent dinosaurs,” he says thoughtfully. “Their brain to body ratio is incredibly disproportionate.”

“Please eat, guys,” Emily says dryly. Their plates are still half full, abandoned in favor of their conversation. Aaron and Emily have long since finished, and she rests her head on his shoulder as they both soak in the new information, nearly indecipherable with its speed, lighting up the room with its enthusiasm.

Sheepishly, Jack and Spencer go back to eating.

They go back to their Lego T.Rex after dinner until Jack can no longer fight bedtime. The clock strikes 8 and much to his dismay, Aaron makes him say his goodnights and prods him up the stairs and into bed.

“Dad?” He calls out just before Aaron shuts his bedroom door.

“Yeah, buddy.”

“I like having Uncle Spence around.” He says, his brows gathering in a thoughtful scrunch.

Aaron smiles at the gesture he caught from Emily. “I do, too.” He says softly.

A familiar light burns in Jack’s eyes. “Can he come over more?” He ventures.

“That’s up to him, Jack,” Aaron shrugs. “But I definitely wouldn’t mind it.” He’d always felt some measure of responsibility over Spencer, something larger than his simple responsibility as his boss. He wasn’t old enough to be his father, and they weren’t close enough for him to classify it as a brotherly sort of concern. But as the light in Jack’s eyes matches the shine in Spencer’s when he connects a clue or gets to ramble on about one of his thoughts, Aaron thinks he finally found a close comparison to his relationship with his coworker.

Jack nods then, apparently satisfied. 

“Night, buddy,” Aaron murmurs, shutting the door behind him after he gets a sleepy reply back. He walks down to the living room to find Spencer kneeling on the floor, scooping up the discarded Lego’s into a container.

“Leave those, Spencer, I’ll get them.” Aaron says.

Quietly, Spencer marvels at just how gentle Hotch becomes when he’s in the comfort of his own home. It’s not the first time he’s seen it, but it flows from him even more potently when it’s just him and Emily and Jack. He knows Hotch is reserved, always keeping things close to the vest, but in these few hours, going to his home and spending time with his son, it makes Spencer feel as if he’s part of something special. The fact that he gets to see Hotch in a simple cotton shirt and sweatpants makes Spencer think he’s somehow worked his way past an impenetrable barrier.

“It’s okay, Hotch. I made half the mess.” He scoops another handful into the container. The dark green pieces are familiar to him from the constructed T.Rex he has at home, and something in him warms at Jack’s insistence that he come over again so they could finish it together. Their half-formed dinosaur cautiously sits on the coffee table.

Aaron smiles a little as Spencer continues clearing up the floor. He crouches down next to him, miraculously setting his knees on the rug and not tiny Lego bricks. “You know, you can call me Aaron.” His voice is a little amused.

Spencer shrugs. He can tell it’ll feel weird on his tongue, so he doesn’t try. Not at the moment, at least. He’s known Hotch for almost a decade, and for all that time, he’s never been Aaron once. Not to him; but maybe that can change. It is just a name after all—and somewhere, along the line, he’d become Spencer instead of Reid.

Aaron tilts his head to the kitchen. “I know Emily needs more help than I do. She hates doing the dishes.”

Spencer pauses. “You sure?”

Aaron nods.

“Okay.” Spencer straightens, his knees cracking from spending hours cross-legged. He steps over the seemingly hundreds of Lego bricks—they cover half the rug—and walks to the kitchen, finding Emily loading the dishwasher.

She turns at the sound of his footsteps. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Spencer stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks for coming,” she says. “I know Jack really enjoys your company. Aaron and I appreciate it.” She gives him a small smile.

There’s something homey about her beneath the warm kitchen lights. She’s in casual sweatpants and a soft t-shirt, her hair gathered in a gentle swooping ponytail with her bangs messily in her face. Her brows are no longer knotted with the stress of work and her shoulders are relaxed as she settles into a routine that’s easy; rinse, hang, repeat.

Spencer rather likes this Emily, the one who moves with a slow pace, the soft padding of her feet on the floor instead of the click of heels in her wake.

“I enjoy all of your company,” he tells her, and it’s true. There’s something distinctly different about spending time with the Hotchners without the rest of his team; everyone is more relaxed, their pace slower, as if Spencer’s presence is as natural as Jack’s. He clears his throat before saying, “I’m not in the habit of going places I don’t want to go to.” He gives Emily a small grin and she returns in. “I had fun. Really.”

Her face lights up, her lips pressing together as she tries to hide a wider smile. Emily shakes her head to get the bangs out of her eyes. “You should come over more often,” she says casually.

Spencer hums and moves next to her, grabbing a plate and rinsing it, trying to seem somewhat normal about the flutterings in his heart. He doesn’t know what’s happening, exactly, when bagged lunches turned into warm dinner, but he finds himself wanting more. Usually his days revolve around two things—his mom and his job—and nothing else, whatever free time he has spent in reading and playing crossword puzzles and the general acquisition of knowledge.

This is different, unusual. But not unwelcome, he thinks, remembering the way Hotch had loaded his plate, how Emily had smiled when he and Jack were building the dinosaur. Sitting cross-legged on their rug as his friends neglected the dishes in favor of each other’s company, talking softly on the couch with glasses of wine in their hands—Spencer had declined—as he and Jack methodically sorted through the Lego’s, Spencer felt like he was part of something tangible. No bigger than his impact in his field of work or his field of research, but just as important, twice as warm.

He loads the plate in the dishwasher and helps Emily until the sink is clear.

He doesn’t know what to do as they say goodbye, but Emily solves it by giving him a quick hug, one he finds himself leaning into a little too much. With a small bye to Hotch and a smile from them both, he walks out of their door, feeling full on something other than food.

In the dark, his eyes pick out Jack’s outside toys strewn across the lawn. Aaron’s car is parked next to Emily’s, and he smiles at the familial image, how each one of their presence stands out, but they still manage to blend in together irreversibly.

When Spencer looks back, he can see Aaron and Emily through the window. She’s knelt down next to him, her hand on his cheek as she brings him in for a kiss over the pile of Lego’s. It’s quick, habitual, and when she leans back he smiles before sweeping her bangs over her brows.

He knows it’s phantom, a trick of the wind, but as Spencer tucks his hands into his pockets and walks away, he hears her warm laughter.

taglist: @kllingdaddy

[thethingything]

we finally started consistently doing the stretches that should help with a specific medical issue we have, and sure the stretches do help, but you know what I fucking forgot? that stretching can really fuck you up if you have EDS, so now I have to deal with a really bad pain flare and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about the other medical issue because I can't do the one thing we've found that helps if it's gonna fuck up my ability to actually sit upright.

I spent the last couple of days being like "why are my hips and back so painful?" only to realise it's because the stretches have fucked up a bunch of our joints, including triggering what I think might be a bursitis flare up in both hips.

we had this issue back in July too when we were drawing a lot and went "oh I should do stretches for my wrists" and doing regular stretches actually made things a lot worse and was an overall terrible idea because our joints hyperextend enough as is and stretching them just does more damage.

anyway now I have to wait for this pain flare to calm down and hope that it does so relatively quickly, but we have an appointment on Friday and I doubt it'll have calmed down by then so we'll probably have to walk around while this is flaring up which feels like a recipe for significantly worse pain, but I can't really rearrange the appointment because it's for meds that we've nearly run out of and we're kinda fucked without them

[beesmygod]

UPDATE ABOUT HEALTH, COMIC, ETC.

SUMMARY: i am still doing the comic at the fullest speed i can, but ask for patience and understanding while i get myself under control. nothing is stopping, but update days might get skipped. if you donate to the patreon for "A Ghost Story" you are only charged for pages i make per month.

ok so. the thing is about whatever is wrong with me:

i legitimately cannot tell if i am malingering, imagining things, or becoming a victim of my own anxiety because the "symptoms" im experiencing are so stupid and nondescript that they could be a consequence of anything from my awful diet to my worse sleep to my lack of exercise to even just being an alive human being. i was (am?) pretty sure most people feel like i do on a day to day because we all live such dogshit lives that fatigue, pain and chronic sickness were just the factors that united us as humans one of these ambiguous symptoms is a rotten tooth sort of pain in my joints. i have always attributed this to being lazy and out of shape and experiencing a type of pain from underuse. it absolutely does not feel like pain from overexertion. it's a deep internal throbbing that is entirely tolerable, but chronic. imagine being at like a steady 3-4 on the pain scale all day. sometimes, it "flares up" and instead of just having one joint a day (usually my hip), multiple joints will hurt much worse at once for about a week. in the past i always thought i was swerving getting the flu and just got lucky. a lot.

bc the joint paint isnt dramatic it never occurred to me to like, look at the places that hurt until recently. are the places swollen? am i looking at natural asymmetry of the human body and ascribing too much significance to nerves misfiring? in my eyes these places are not as swollen later as they are in these photos. i circled the swollen places in some bc sometimes honestly i cannot tell if thats swelling. they are places that hurt at that time and looked weird enough to document.

the only one i know for sure was/is fucked up is my toe/s. which i cant post bc of internet perverts. but the big toe turned cherry red and bloated and ached weirdly under the toenail. but there's a bump on it i can feel that makes it go numb when i push on it. bonespur? who knows. as a kid, my knee once became so red hot and swollen that i was sent home but was told it was bursitis

ANYWAY: i hurt real bad right now, and the worst of this stuff is happening in my knuckles, wrist, and my toes. when its in my hips, knees, and back i couldnt give less of a shit bc those are easier to ignore than my fingers. this friday i ran a low grade fever, slept for 20 hours and threw up my only meal. the first images are from this weekend. i have a drs appointment tomorrow.

please bear with me. the only thing a web comic needs to do in order to maintain any kind of readership is be consistent, and it is making me insane with stress that i am not able to maintain what should be an incredibly easy schedule for an audience that have been giving me the gift of allowing me to entertain them for almost a decade. i am not losing steam, just falling apart lol.

[smalife1234]

Alrighty this is our second weekly smiles going strong! We had a big week so be prepared! It's going to be a lengthy read but an enjoyable one at that!

What made me smile this week?

Monday, 8/5/24 - today is our birthday 🎂!!! Woo hoo! We spent time at the mall and bought many things. We got Pokemon packs for our birthday and a tablet, which we have been having a blast on! We have been playing all sorts of games and having a good time! It certainly made me smile! First, we went to Claire's, and then we headed to Books a Million and got a few things! And a yummy large hot chocolate! It made me smile!

Tuesday, 8/6/24 - it's a day after our birthday! And we have been having a blast with our tablet! But the morning of we woke up to our friend calling us at 6:00 Am! Because her boyfriend broke up with her, she was devastated and crying. It did not make me smile, but playing on our tablets and making more progress on our Subway Surfers game! It made me smile! I had my 35 rounds of chemotherapy! And my wife started my water-drinking challenge! To further prevent UTI and automatic dysreflexia (AD), she completed her first day, and it made us smile!

Wednesday, 8/7/24 - today is the second day with our tablet! We have more progress on our games! I got a 50,000! Which is amazing! We mainly chilled and had some of our cake! It was a chill yet fun day! And it made me smile!

Thursday, 8/8/24 - today, we chilled with our friend Big Donny and tried out our friend's wheelchair! We thought it was hilarious and we had a fun time playing and hanging out! It made me smile!

Friday, 8/9/24 - sadly, our friend Willam got diagnosed with ALS, so he is starting his journey today, and we wish him all the best! But today, we continued playing on our tablets and laughing a lot about the sounds of our trachs. We were all dying of laughter! And we had a lovely photoshoot that turned out amazing! We filmed our reactions, and we all loved the photos. My wonderful husband Matthew took the photos, and they all look amazing!! It made us all smile! Our friend Luz was doing some cool spinning tricks in her wheelchair, which made us all in shock and laugh as she kept falling. Don't worry, she was laughing as well ;)! It made us smile!

Saturday 8/10/24 - today I woke up super late but chillied in the morning! I had to do my 36th round of chemotherapy! And I have wrist surgery! Which sucks but I recovered quickly! And not in too much pain! Which is always good! We chilled the rest of the night and uploaded another weekly vlog! It made us smile!

Sunday, 8/11/24 - our Dr appointment is tomorrow! So I can't wait! I found out that my eye doctor appointment got rescheduled and was scheduled for October! more waiting fun.. but we went to Grandma's house today, and we found out we're staying a couple of nights, so we will be picked up around noon on a Tuesday! Yay, and we're staying till Friday! So, a couple of days with Grandma, which is good since school is starting soon! So that's always fun :) at Grandma's, we played a game called “Make it Quick!” It is a game where you have to answer names or items based on the genera of that card in 14 seconds based on 1 letter that's wrapped around a purple board. We had a fun time playing that. For the Sunday dinner, we had potato salad, which was amazing! We had some ham and green beans and ranch-style beans that tasted yummy! And then we got a late birthday card that said “Happy birthday we love you - Grandma & grandfather”! The card contained 40$, which we appreciated very much! We had a blast at Grandma's, but sadly, we have to do more filming and editing and more planning as running a YouTube channel is hard work, but we like it! We had a busy yet fun day :)!

What made you smile this week?

Img desc #1: doc is seen smiling outside with someone. Doc is wearing a white short sleeves shirt and her atrophied arms are resting on the joystick of her electric wheelchair

Img desc #2: doc is seen in an airport she is smiling while wearing a black short-sleeved shirt and black sweatpants she is in her electric wheelchair

Img desc #3: shows Doc smiling with a group of people she is wearing a black hat paired with a white short-sleeved shirt brown shorts and white shoes she is in her electric wheelchair

Img desc #4: shows a picture of the pretty sky as they're headed home from a nice time at Grandma's house

Img desc #5: show the game "Make it quick"! A game that requires fast skill thinking!

Img desc #6: shows a picture of Grandma and grandfather holding an ultrasound that we call the baby "bunny" There is a reaction video but we decided to hold off until the weekly vlog :)

Img desc #7: shows Doc wide awake in bed. It only shows her head is wide. it is dark in her bedroom!

Img desc #8: doc is seen smiling in a grey professional photoshoot she is seen wearing a black short-sleeved shirt and black skinny jeans

Img desc #9: shows two slices of pepperoni pizza and two garlic knots which were yummy!

[norqay]

I miss drawing so much. I miss just being able to properly use my wrist/hand. It’s been 2 years. July 2022 was when I injured my wrist. TFCC injury that needs surgery.

In 2022, I saw 2 orthopedic doctors. The first one said he was concerned and sent me to a wrist specialist. The wrist specialist told me I needed surgery that was too complicated for him to do. (My bone needs to be repaired, and then my tendons need to be repaired, etc) So I was sent to a better wrist specialist.

This “better” wrist specialist told me that nothing is wrong with me. It’s normal for women to have wrist problems. He can’t help. I just have to deal with it.

My dumb ass believed him, even as my wrist continued to get worse over the year. Finally I realized that he’s a piece of shit.

I need to see a new surgeon but I just don’t know if I can. Since it’s been so long he’s probably gonna want another MRI and more X-rays. I also have to go to the hospital beforehand to get the old MRI and X-ray results just in case. That scares me but I can maybe do it.

Maybe I’ll look into seeing a new wrist specialist next week. Maybe. I really want to. I’m just nervous about seeing like 4 different specialists at once because I have a cardiologist appointment on Friday, I’m waiting on a neurologist appointment, and I have a obgyn appointment soon. Being chronically ill is so fun

[losingfayth]

it's nearing midnight and i'm walking home from a friend's apartment.

i'm sure i'm quite the sight to behold at the moment. my choice of gym short shorts is a bit premature for the weather. my hoodie would be perfectly seasonal if not for the curious choice to roll both sleeves up to my elbows. the cold is intense but manageable, and the sleeves don't even reach my wrists anyway. rolling them up at least gives the illusion that i want them to fail at covering my entire arm, rather than admit to any passersby that i chose a smaller size because i thought it looked nicer despite not accomodating my long, gangly limbs very well. the cheap fake crystals of my walmart cross necklace fail to catch the light of the streetlights, and the cross itself seems to contradict with my earrings which read "be gay, do crime." my glasses have rainbow frames. my piercings are numerous. my eyeliner is dramatically winged.

i'm sure i'm quite the sight to behold.

i feel, in this moment, like a character in an indie movie. i visually fit the part, surely, and i'm melancholicly listening to a sweet song about two lovers enjoying each others' simpler pleasures. it's a happy song that makes me sad.

i check my phone for new messages again. i texted my ex hours ago to see if she had time for me this weekend. i haven't heard back yet. she usually checks her phone before bed, so i should've seen something by now. but, then again, it is friday night. she could still be up. she could have plans.

that idea wrenches my chest. i can't imagine who she has plans with. i can imagine who she has plans with. i don't want her to have plans with him. god, please no.

i prayed earlier that we would be brought back together. i sure hope somebody listened.

i'm nearing the crosswalk, feeling like a character in an indie movie. maybe not an indie movie, actually. i may be "manic pixie," but i'm not exactly anyone's dream girl. maybe an alternative music video by some garage band out of portland. maybe that's more accurate.

then again... here's the thing: if i saw me, right now, in this moment, crossing the street in the middle of the night, a tall, alternative lesbian dressed inappropriately for the weather hauling an acoustic guitar on her back, i think i'd fall in love instantly. i would melt as she showed me her obscene pokemon merch collection (we love a girlie who's passionate) or explains her prescription insoles (we love a girlie who can make her own doctor's appointments). i'm no lesbian casanova, don't get me wrong, but i've fallen for girls with less going for them. why do i assume no one else is going to love all the same things i would?

i thought about a conversation. one i might have if i finally decide the jettison my ex-girlfriend from my life. "i deserve better than you!" i say.

...but, then again...

there's not too many people in this world who would put up with my bullshit. there's not too many people in this world who are as kind, caring, compassionate, loving, understanding as she is.

we visited her father's memorial one day. she was beside herself. an absolute wreck. but, before we left, she went to every single other memorial there and fixed it up. she straightened flags and put up fallen magnets and tended to plants. she did it like it was her job. like it was expected of her. and every time i bring it up, she responds the same way.

"it was the right thing to do."

i trust her to do the right thing in so many areas. i trust her to do the right thing almost all the time. the one thing i don't trust her to do right is keep safe my heart. she broke it once, and i'm here in agony again and again for her. if she truly doesn't want me, she should cut me loose for good. anything less is just cruel.

i feel like a character in an indie movie. a movie i want to end already.

[boxcxtterbxy]

my friend cancelled our plans so im home all week. im really bummed out, but hell, it means im saving money. im only working fridays and making $30 per week. so i have to save up for things like disposables and alcohol and gas. and i need gas SOOO bad i had to drive to the gas station today and now my car is 29 miles til empty uuueeee. oh!

today i ate some sliced strawberries and a quarter of some cheese bread. it wasnt the HEALTHIEST, but i didnt overdo it i dont think. def stayed under 1200 at the most :)

it might just be me, but i think i have pretty arms/hands.

even at my HW (214lbs) ive always had the tiniest arms and wrists. same with my calves n such. all of my weight goes to my upper arms, thighs, and tummy.

i miss my fiancé. hes going to work tomorrow :( and weve just been. weird. i dont know. im on the aromantic spectrum and it makes things difficult sometimes. sometimes im so uncomfortable but i feel like i cant say anything, i dont wanna hurt him. and itd definitely hurt his feelings for me to say i wasnt comfortable with his affection. weh. i do love him though. so so so much. cant live without him.

im not sure if ive mentioned this, but ive been journaling all of my worst thoughts and feelings so i can show it to my psychiatrist. my appointment is april 3. i just have to make it til then. im doing really terribly, but thats only two weeks. i can make it. and i hope my documentation will help — itll definitely make her feel more confident in my bpd diagnosis LOL.

MY KAOMOJIS ARENT WORKINGGGGG thanks for glitching all the time tumblr. -_- but anyway. i know this is a late post (2:30 am for me) sooooooo goodnight to you aaaallll ^_^