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deafsignifcantother · 7 months ago

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if music be the food of love chapter three

♥ here you go lovies, it's series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter four ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 2.4k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: chapter summary: alastor is a bit uncomfortable with how close he is with reader, which has never happened before since their friendship was private, but now that she is in the hotel he realizes that he has a potential weakness ♥ no tag list rn :3

Every now and then, in the room across from you, quiet jazz would play, rich only under the sound of your music, but it still reeks of exclamation uncharacteristic of the music's Earthly presence. It's a blistering noise that requires the knock on a door to stop. The sight of Alastor whenever he opens his bedroom door at the interruption of a knock strikes fear into the other residents. His smile is deadly, and his eyes burn into his peers. They get reminded of his power.

His charming mystery.

And he made the dress less than six inches from you when you slept. After a stirless sleep, you wake up to a dress draped on the mattress by your feet. The first thing you notice is the lace layers that are guaranteed to itch your skin. Tonight is your welcome party, a last-minute plan (due to your sudden appearance). There will be no dress code, no inch of modesty, but Alastor decides himself that you will be covered. Suffice it to say it is not a surprise, especially considering he isn't a fan of modern nudity, puffy skirts with breasts peeking out, heels too high to walk comfortably on dirt, and so forth, and would throw up if he saw you in such. Possessive or protected?

What you want to reveal is no business with him (as if you really would). But you are ready for your life to be led by his smiles and soft touches, as your new public appearance will need guidance; you are ignorant of current times. Or that's what you tell yourself.

Your old clothes, once your trusted companions, are now reclined over the lounge chairs by the fireplace. They have transformed like you (how did you end up at the Hazbin Hotel after being a fierce overlord?) into something different, something less familiar. But still, a better thought fuels you: this is a chance to renew.

After dressing, loosening your collar, and fidgeting with the length of your sleeves, you enter the hallway, not at all shy but not confident enough to assert your presence. The first good morning to Alastor is the hardest. You quickly discover that it flusters you to greet him so close to the time when you wake up. By his smile, you just know that your music is playing a symphony; curse that thing.

Your mind wanders into a world of memories, the fancy clothes you used to dress him in, the smile he would give you, and your music conjures the same smile; that's where you remember it from.

"See?" He motions up and down you. "The most exquisite lady I've seen in my death."

You almost finish an eye roll before he grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. The movement is not prolonged at all but so swift that you barely have a chance to process it. The way he swiftly turns around, his head going before his body, hints as to why. He must pull away before anybody spots the affection.

There could have been a better banner, but Angel spilled paint over one of the corners, and Charlie spent a few minutes crying in the limited time. You stare up at it with amazement anyway. Whose handwriting is that? It's better than most of the overlords.

"I don't think I've ever painted a banner before," you sign to Alastor. He nods, looking up at it, his smile growing. You continue, "I wonder if they would have let me help."

"Your own welcome sign? Not a chance, though Charlie loves a group activity, perhaps it was a bonding exercise."

Charlie hops over at the sight of her name sign, finally overcoming the awkwardness and not wanting to interrupt a conversation. Somehow, she thinks ASL feels more personal. Well, as do most hearing people.

"Do you like it? Do you like it?" She signs in only two motions, her eyes bright when she sees you understand her.

You give a small smile, placing your hands on hers to calm her down, her touch is extremely warm, before signing. "Thank you so much for this, I feel very welcomed. You're so kind."

"Yes," a simple word as her eyebrows furrow slightly with frustration at her small vocabulary. "I tried!"

Your eyes look around at the people, each patiently waiting for you to initiate a conversation by walking up. Since when did they get so awkward?

The moment you walk away, Charlie turns her attention to Alastor.

You give Nifty a small smile, looking at the cookies she impatiently holds. In contrast, Angel holds onto her waist, ensuring she doesn't rush over to you the moment she sees you. She drops the tray when you approach conversation stops, and they rattle on the metal. Angel lets her go with a slight look of hesitation. He doesn't even acknowledge you.

"A dress! A beautiful one!" She runs her fingers down her own dress as a classifier.

You nod. "That's due to Alastor, he—"

"Worked his magic? Your red matches his."

"Does it?"

You turn around, glancing for a second at the shade of his suit and then down at your dress. You suppose, but it is a bit darker, though that might be due to velvet. What you notice is your matching sleeves. While looking back at Nifty, she immediately starts signing again. Angel stands awkwardly, unsure if he should walk away, but he pays attention to the signing anyway. Would he be willing to learn? You hope.

"How full is your closet? What do the dresses look like? Are they naughty?"

You pick up a cookie awkwardly, giving it a small bite and signing with one hand only for the first sentence. "Well, Alastor is the one who needs to fill my closet and he hasn't yet. I doubt he'd let me wear something he would consider distasteful."

"How dare he..." she squints her eye at him.

"Right?" The slight smile on your face is contagious enough to lighten her face.

"How's the cookie? Do you like it? I didn't put any roaches in it this time." An invisible laugh leaves her lips.

You look down at it momentarily, a bit skeptical, lifting it again. No insect legs are visible, but you still put it back down, no longer taking bites. You started the day with the same soft classical music from your heart, but now it is a more jolly sound. Praying that you don't start making Angel uncomfortable, you give a small wave, which he returns. Then Husk comes to save the day with a freshly opened bottle in his hand while he signs with the other.

"Ain't seen a lick of sign language before."

"You hadn't either."

He smirks, the friendliness catching you a bit off guard. "First time for everything."

With the most neutral face you can muster in such a friendly environment, you begin to turn away. "Of course there is."

The air lightens as you turn back around, letting Husk and Angel have their conversation. Charlie is still excitedly talking to Alastor, copying his signs, and surprisingly so is Vaggie.

Once they notice you're watching, they stop. Charlie puts her hands behind her back and smiles awkwardly as if she had been caught in an act.

Less than ten minutes later, the event feels tiresome. Having Alastor interpret for you and dealing with hearing people attempting to sign becomes unbearable. Just like at the overlord meetings, you and Alastor side-eye each other constantly. The only positive you can think of is that Husk is not hiding away.

"Awfully tiring," says Alastor, crossing his legs from the couch where he sits next to you. "Why must I be subjected to these superficial conversations."

His claw circling around his knuckles is smooth enough to allure your interest. His hands are so careful, so lovely. Hiding your interest, you give him your usual small smile.

In your imagined scenarios, you can force a yawn and say you are going to bed, and Alastor would be there to tuck you in as he did years ago. Perhaps you'd wake up to a bouquet of dead roses. Foolish girl, you can almost imagine him telling you if he were a mind reader.

As you look around again, scanning to ensure no one has been trying to get your attention, Vaggie's eyes connect with yours. Her brow raises in recognition, understanding. Your shoulders stiffen, and the shame pulsating in your heart is the worst feeling in the world. But that is before Charlie captures your attention again, flashing her same old smile and hopping up and down.

And then she motions behind you. Angel brings out a cake, holding it steadily, looking down at it with a bit of jealousy. Instead of helping when the cake was baking, Angel stood at the kitchen doorway and watched how the residents came together. He was invited to help of course, but he hated what they were celebrating.

You can't help but let your eyes widen. The cookies and now this?

While you wait for Charlie to get ahold of herself and her squeals (as if the cake was made for her), you stand and hold your hands in front of you, not exactly understanding what to do at this moment. Nifty comes to distract you, climbing up your body and fiddling with the collar of your dress. You let her.

"I hope it's good," Charlie figures out how to say. "We cooked together, for you!"

Charlie believes in ending a day with something that can make somebody smile. And here you are, smiling at her, not caring to hide your facial expressions. Your music exposes your emotions enough.

The cake gets placed on the table in front of the couches, and you sit on the carpet, legs folding under you. Your soon-to-be friends huddle around. Will they trust you with a knife? Apparently so, and you make sure to hold it carefully. You're not going to let your status as an ex-overlord scare them enough to not trust you with something as simple as a knife. It slices perfectly, the cake having a perfect texture, looking so soft inside. Your hand twitches, your claws digging a bit into your palm, but not noticeable enough to worry anyone. Is this a trap? No, Charlie wouldn't allow that. But what if this is why Husk has been so friendly.

You finish slicing, managing to cut it evenly. It reminds you of the living world, the times you've watched people cut cakes, especially as a kid. Alastor doesn't mind your souring mood until he notices that your melodies are transitioning into a minor key. In an instance, unconsciously (well, regrettably subconsciously), he uses his shadows to form next to you, leaning in close while taking the knife from your hand and spinning it, making it disappear into flames. The overall mood hasn't changed, but the moment he moves to summon a plate, your eyes lock on his movements. Alastor has gotten so considerate towards you that he touched something so sweet, holding the plate in his hand with a fork.

It happens, something unpredictable.

Everybody watches as he lifts a bite and holds it to your lips. You blink before your eyes brighten. Just like that, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the fork, your focus sharpening; everybody is watching. It distracts you from basking in the enchanting taste.

"Excellent," he puts the plate down and puts all his effort into not grimacing at the sight of it. "Wasn't that nice?"

You hold your breath, determining whether that is rhetorical or sarcastic. You go along with it, shrugging and leaning a bit forward, tilting your head, something you used to do when you wanted him to touch his forehead with yours.

You pretend he does, closing your eyes to ignore his stiff posture, and you pull away.

Charlie mends you with a gaze as kind as an innocent child. Something passes between you two. Is your attraction to him that obvious? Curses.

That's the most sinister part of Hell.

He walks you to your bedroom just as you hoped he would, but he doesn't step inside. He does wrap his arms around you, though, his voice vibrating against your body. Stop speaking, you want to say, but you don't dare pull away. All you can do is drown in the gratefulness of the once-ordinary affection. His constant withdrawal is obvious, and of course you understand why. But you assumed behind closed doors he would revert back to the lovely language you two share. But no, he doesn't. He doesn't even try.

Pulling away involves letting go of the warmth of his body. You already miss the feeling of his breathing. He puts a hand behind your neck and does what you crave the most, rests his forehead against yours. His bangs brush your hairline, and you smile.

"Thank you," you sign. Alastor's smile grows, becoming soft, and his eyes flicker around, his shadow spinning down the hall before he takes your hand, just like in the morning. He presses his lips to your knuckles, closing his eyes and exhaling while he pulls away. With the moment of eye contact, his hand slips away from you, and without further words, he leaves into his room.

Your bedroom feels especially empty when you close the door in front of him. That's not the way it should be.

The large window attached to your room hardly offers a view of the beautiful city. This hill should be high enough to spot the different sections, but the huge buildings within the middle of the city shields a lot of the environment.

You only get three steps closer to the window when you worry he's just standing in front of your door. It's such a pointless thought, a momentary wish. Maybe he is waiting for you to realize his presence and offer him entrance. But when you open it, you're met with nothing, nobody. Unfortunate.

You need to stop fantasizing like a little girl.

You decide to distract yourself with the privilege of staying at such a prestigious building.

You cut through the sign on the roof toward the dark red lining of the end of the roof. Awestruck, your eyes widen, and you halt in place. You can see the entire Pentagram Circle from high above, and your music gets loud enough to hear from the ground. The different gradients of red you would have never been able to see until now reflect in your eyes, the same way moonlight would. A cool breeze messes with the lace on your sleeves and rubs against your skin as you knew it would when you put the dress on.

When the rare clouds begin to hide the lighting from the radiant Pentagram above, the breeze starts to freeze, and Heaven's clock becomes the brightest light. Back inside you go. As always.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #alastor x reader #if music be the food of love

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mayajadewrites · 10 months ago

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I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

warnings: eventual smut, this is a slow burn

ao3

C H A P T E R O N E: G R I E F

this fanfic is inspired by ariana grande's new album: specifically the songs 'I wish I hated you', 'we can't be friends', and 'eternal sunshine'. enjoy! let me know what you think, comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

You wish you hated him.

The walls you let down to let him in - they need to be rebuilt brick by brick from his damage.

Levi Ackerman.

You should've known it would end up this way. After 2 years of dating, Levi didn't want to ever get married, let alone have you move in with him. He had his house, you had yours. You slept over most of the time anyways, so what was the difference?

Your lives are entirely different. Levi is the President of Smith Inc, along side his best friend Erwin Smith, who is the CEO. He has a large home, housekeepers, and spotless counters. You live in an apartment that's not ideal, but it's home. You've always had to work two jobs to stay afloat, even when Levi offered to give you money. You refused because you wanted to make your own income and not rely on anyone. You work at a coffee shop full time and you accept online writing gigs. Levi never understood why you cared so much about making your own money, but he accepted it.

As you sit on your full size bed in your favorite sweatsuit, tears start to fall from your eyes. You look at your nightstand and see a small framed photo of you and Levi from his birthday last year. He doesn't like to celebrate it since it's on Christmas, but you refused to not acknowledge his birthday. You bought a tea tasting set from his favorite tea shop and set up a paint and sip at your house, but with tea.

In the photo is you and Levi, where he's sipping tea out of his favorite cup that stays at your house, and you're smiling from ear to ear. Tears fell onto the glass, covering Levi's face. You use the pad on your thumb to wipe the tear away as you put the photo in your drawer.

Levi dropped off a box of your belongings while you were at work yesterday, leaving them on your dining table. He still had a key since you haven't heard the heart to ask for it back. Your entire life with Levi was in that box.

Your heard the vibration of your phone on your desk, the noise irritating you. It's been going off for a few hours, but you haven't had the mental capacity to answer it.

You walked over to your desk, secretly hoping it was Levi that was trying to get in touch with you.

Missed Call from Hange: 4

Of course its Hange. She means well, but she if nothing is persistent.

You press 'call back' and bring the phone to your ear.

"Finally!" You heard Hange on the other side of your phone. "I've been worried sick about you."

Hange works for Smith Inc, but she quickly became a friend to you after Levi reluctantly introduced you.

"I'm fine." You look down at your nails that are in desperate need of a manicure.

"That's code for I'm not fine at all and Levi Ackerman broke my heart."

You stayed silent.

"He's in a weird mood today. Like, way meaner than usual."

"Okay..." You waited for something else to be said. "Is that why you called me? To tell me he's acting weird?"

"Well I called you 4 times to make sure you were alive. I know Levi dropped off stuff to you yesterday, I heard him talking to Erwin about it."

"What did he say?" You were more interested than you wanted to be. You shouldn't care about the man who made your entire world shatter.

"He said that he went in your apartment and was expecting more of a mess, but that it was impeccably clean."

You roll your eyes so far back you swear you could see the past. "I picked up a few cleaning tips from him so I clean more often now."

"He also said he wanted to see if there was any trace of another man being in there."

"That would be none of his business. It's been a month since we broke up. He should know me well enough to know I wouldn't even let a man in my home that fast."

"He specifically said he wants to be the only man that's ever in your apartment."

This statement surprises you. The only man? He let you let him go. He had no problem letting the last 2 years obliterate into the universe. "Well that's not gonna happen. What's done is done, and I don't do second chances. I'll get the key back from him."

"You can try." Hange laughs. "Anyways, lets get drinks after work! I know you're off today."

You wince at the thought of getting ready and leaving your house. "Hange."

"Come on. I've let you rot in your bed for a month."

"Fine." You sigh. "Our usual spot?"

"You got it. See you soon!" Hange swiftly hung up. Everyone needs a friend like Hange - one that will let you sulk but will bring you back out of the dark place you were in.

Once 5pm hit, you grabbed your purse and looked at yourself in the full length mirror. You opted for a cropped white sweater, subtly ripped jeans and leopard loafers. Your hair was styled in lose waves that cascaded halfway down your back. You sighed looking at yourself, unfamiliar with the reflection. You've been depriving yourself of self care, letting your mind be consumed with thoughts of Levi: Why did he let you leave him? Did he ever care for you? Did he ever love you?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a text from Hange.

Hange: I'm heading over now!

You: Me too.

You pull up to the bar - watching Hange's car pull up at the same time. "Hi gorgeous!" She practically jumped on you. "You clean up so nice!"

"Thanks, Hange. This is the first time I've gotten actually dressed in weeks."

You and Hange share laughs and drinks, finally letting yourself let loose. After being so consumed by your own thoughts, it's nice to let your mind be at ease with the help of alcohol.

You're on your 3rd drink when you watch the door open to the bar and you see the raven haired man that destroyed your life.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan

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malopascal · 3 months ago

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One shot: we found our way back to each other

"Can we please just talk..." Pedro begged, his eyes looking so tired and his composure exposing nothing but defeat and heartbreak.

A sigh left your painted lips as you avoided his begging gaze, looking through the room of his sister's home, silently missing the hours the two of you had spent in here, laughing, talking and making love.

"Talk about what? You told me two months ago that you weren't ready for a relationship, that I should find someone else who could settle down", you purposely threw Pedro's words back to him in hopes that they would also cause him the same pain it caused you eight weeks ago.

You finally focused your eyes on the Chilean actor and saw how he closed his eyes in shame and shook his head. "You're trying to kill me, mi amor" he whispered before opening his eyes.

"No, you killed me with those words. I thought that I had meant something to you, we had spend four months together, making all these beautiful memories that I can never forget", you spat as tears started to brim your eyes.

"I know, I know (Y/N)...".

"No, you don't. You don't know that I've been faking a smile for weeks, pretending that my life is so fucking awesome and continuing to work like you didn't rip my heart out of my chest, Pedro".

The actor took a step closer to you and quickly took your soft hand in his, his eyes were begging you to take him back. "Words can't describe how foolish I was. I thought that I had made the right decision, allow you to go and be free before my crazy and hectic life would get in between us, and we'd be forced to break up anyway...".

His words made you frown as you slowly shook your head in disbelief.

"Bullshit, Pedro. I accompanied you while you worked and traveled, still made time for my own life and friends and family and not once did I ever voice or think that your celebrity life would become too much for me...How could you make this decision for yourself and then punish me for it?", the tears were now streaming down your face, the aching pain in your chest making it hard for you to focus as you stared at your love. The betrayal still sat deep in your soul and you wondered if you could ever get past this.

"You tossed me aside for nothing, based on assumptions...And then you moved on like we never happened, like I didn't give all my love to you!" you couldn't help but increase the volume of your voice as you finally had the chance to speak about your heartbreak.

After Pedro had suddenly broken up with you through a quick phone call, he had blocked you and went on a promotional tour of his upcoming projects, making you feel lost and abandoned while he continued to live his life in front of the cameras.

Since the two of you were able to keep your relationship private, due to the fact that you were an actress as well, barely anyone noticed how you were crumbling and pretending like you hadn't lost the greatest love of all time.

"My love, I-" Pedro chocked back on a sob before clearing his throat and wrapping his strong arms around your waist, still looking at you like you were the only, most precious thing walking the earth.

"I just wanna know why. Why did you get rid of me like that?" you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, hating how your heart skipped a beat and a delicate sensation of adoration rushed through your body. You knew that touching him alone would have you weak, but in that moment, you didn't care at all.

"I'm almost fifty, it's been years since I had a serious relationship (Y/N), I have anxiety and assumed that it would take a few more weeks before you would get sick and tired of me and my job and leave me..." the actor confessed with a heavy heart.

"But I can't describe the agony I have been in ever since we parted ways. All I can do is think and yearn for you", his beautiful brown eyes gazed deeply into yours while he leaned in closer, his breath dancing along your lips as you let out a soft sigh. God, that man still had you so crazy in love and a part of you thought that he'd try to make up sappy excuses and then leave you alone.

"I am so sorry for what I did, and I know you're just as heartbroken as I am. It's my duty to earn your trust back and show you the blessing that you are to me. Please...." Pedro leaned in and pressed his soft lips against yours, frowning at the pure sensation of your soft lips against his. You pulled away, your head spinning from the passion while you stared deeply into his eyes, your breath coming out in short puffs as you were overwhelmed.

"Please what?" you exhaled as the tension in the room shifted from sad to something else.

He leaned in again, stealing another passionate kiss while his arms pulled your body closer to his. That's when you noticed something throbbing against your lower stomach. You couldn't help but let out a weak moan as your body was succumbing to this man.

"Allow me to win your trust back and show you that I am your man. Yours." Pedro whispered, his breathing increasing by the second as the two of you stared longingly into each other's eyes.

The wetness already had gathered in between your thighs as all you could now think about was feeling him move deep inside you, have him fill you up all the way and talk you through the sensual acts of love.

"I-" Pedro didn't even let you finish your sentence before he had stolen another kiss from your lips, his tongue tracing your lower lip and silently asking for permission. Which you instantly granted.

His big hands immediately started to roam your body, caressing your breasts and shoulders while he moved the two of you towards the bed.

He kissed your neck after having placed you gently onto the mattress, your silky black cocktail dress already being torn from your body. "I need to taste you", he begged.

You instantly opened your legs and quickly got rid of your thong before your love had his head position in between your thighs. "You're so wet" he praised while giving you a soft smile, leaning in closer to where you needed him the most before darting his tongue out and flicking your sensitive clit.

"Yes", you mewled while throwing your head back, your wetness sliding down your inner thighs while your love instantly got to work and devoured you right then and there. His eyes didn't dare to move away from your face as he needed to look at you. He needed the assurance that he was pleasing you, giving himself to you.

He licked and lapped at your swollen clit and drenched folds, dipping his tongue into your hot and wet cunt, loving the way you weakly moaned his name and grind your hips in sync of his movements. Behind your clenched eyelids, you saw stars as the pleasure took over your mind, body and soul.

"You taste divine" Pedro whispered, moaning your name over and over again while his eyes still didn't look elsewhere. He had always been in awe of your beauty and knowing that no other had seen you like this was making his heart swell in his chest with pride.

Before you knew it, your love was kissing his way up your body, positioning himself in between your thighs while he quickly got rid of his dress shirt and freeing his hard cock from its tight pants.

Your eyes fluttered open and you couldn't help but moan at the sight of Pedro staring down at your face, his eyes drinking in the beautiful sight of you. It took him a few seconds to let his hard cock slide up and down your folds, gathering the slick wetness before whispering how much he loved you.

You couldn't even answer as the sensation of his cock slowly sinking deep inside you overwhelmed you. Your inner walls welcomed the hardness as they stretched and took him deeper. A weak moan left your lips.

"I missed you so much" you chocked out before the first stroke hit you. Pedro closed his eyes and immediately started to snap his hips against yours, hitting your sweet spot over and over again while having leaned down and now gently kissing and sucking on your sensitive neck.

The pure pleasure raging over your body was too much.

The feeling of him buried deep inside you...

His weak moans of your name...

The quick motions of your body desperately wanting to reach that beautiful high together.

It was all too much.

Your toes curled as you felt the delicious knot form in the pit of your stomach, your inner walls were clenching onto your love's cock for dear life while the delicate shivers running up and down your back made it hard for you to focus on anything.

"I am right here, my love. Come on, take all of me and show me you love it. Take it all, it's all yours" Pedro groaned, his hips snapping faster against yours while his hand was now circling your sensitive clit, making the knot tighter and tighter by the second.

You clung onto his broad shoulders as the next deep thrust threw you into the wild, gushing and overwhelming peak. Your orgasm rippled through your body and you couldn't control it. Your inner walls clenched tightly around Pedro's cock as his warm spurts filled you all the way up. That man was almost screaming your name as he continued thrusting his hips in a sloppy manner, wanting this intense and beautiful sensation to never stop.

The weak moans leaving your lips grew softer by the second while the tremors of your high tingled through your body. Your eyes slowly opened and Pedro's adoring smile made your heart swell in your chest.

"I love you'" he confessed.

"I love you too" you responded in a soft huff, still trying to catch your breath.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x reader

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writing-house-of-m · 1 year ago

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Falling for you

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha is in love with you and decides to tell you

A/N: I was so impressed with myself when I came up with the title lol The request can be found here. Comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

Prompt: "Oh, I'm falling in love."

"It was when I saw you giving flowers to Wanda once. I saw the gesture and it hit me like a ton of bricks. The way you looked at her. I wanted someone to look at me like that. I learned afterwards not 'someone,' I wanted you to look at me like that.

"It was as if my mind held up a queue card telling me how I felt about you. I realised, 'Oh, I'm falling in love,' but the more I thought about it the more I realised I've been in love with you for a while and I didn't know what to do."

Natasha started speaking after you made a joke about her playing hide and seek. Nobody knew where she was when you noticed her missing for a while and got curious where she might have been. She was looking out at the view motionless before you got there for you don't know how long.

You regret making your joke.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. Maybe because I'm sick of holding it all in.

"In the red room it was always 'love is just something used to brainwash childish minds', 'A chemical reaction, nothing more' and for the longest time I agreed. I have never experienced it before and didn't think I ever would…

"Until you."

She looks at you emotionally. It's the most vulnerable you have seen her. The 'Black Widow' on the verge of tears because of you,

"Natasha,"

And there is nothing you can say to make her feel better.

"I do love you, just not in the same way. I'm really sorry," you see in the way Natasha drops her head, the devastation she is feeling, "but my heart will always belong to Wanda."

She lets out a sad laugh, looking out at the setting sun in the horizon, orange and pink painting the sky, "Figures," she scoffs, "the person I fall for, already taken," she says, sniffling.

There are a few moments of tense silence before you decide to break it, in hopes to lighten the mood a little, "Well, if it's any consolation Wanda aspires to have your 'hot bod'," you jest, then raise your hands and eyebrows innocently, "her words, not mine."

It does make her laugh but shortly after, silence prevails and you both bask in it. You stay there in each others presence long after darkness takes over and white dots fill the night sky.

…

Shortly after your conversation on the roof you move out of the compound. It was something you and Wanda had been discussing anyway but you thought it would be easier for Natasha if you weren't there. To you it would have felt like you were rubbing your relationship in her face after her confession. But for Natasha, she missed seeing you everyday.

As always life continues, work takes over. Your time together is reduced to when you are assigned to the same missions. Natasha realises quickly her feelings for you will never falter. So she makes the most of the time she gets with you.

It doesn't take long for that to be taken from her as well.

…

Natasha felt your presence missing from this world. Prior to everything that happened, you hadn't been at the compound for the longest time but at least she knew you were out there and happy. But now? There was a gaping hole in the shape of you that was missing and it was unfair for everyone, not just herself.

It is why she makes the decision to go to Vormir.

The world is better with you in it.

Even if she won't be here to witness it.

As she is falling to her demise, the sound of wind rushing past her ears she closes her eyes to see your smiling face.

The memory of you stood on the rooftop trying to make her laugh. The picture can be compared to a piece of artwork with the way the warm setting sunlight hits off your skin and makes your eyes shine.

Natasha is glad to have such a picturesque image of you in her final seconds that she can find comfort in behind her eyelids.

Despite the cold climate and the circumstances her body is filled with warmth knowing she is the reason there is the possibility to bring you back. At least then you will have a chance at starting that family you and Wanda announced.

As that final image slips away along with her consciousness, Natasha thinks about the fact that even though she could never have you. You always had her.

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plasticfossil · 5 months ago

Text

THORNTON GREY, 2.5K TRIS & 256x TEX

Worldbuilding and cg autism under the cut

This is Thornton Grey, a character of mine I've had for around 15 years now. He's from a more or less retired worldbuilding universe of mine, waiting to be either recycled or refactored. Thornton is one of the dearest characters from that setting (and in all honesty, one of my dearest characters in general) and I tend to keep him in my current brain palette of little men to doodle in various formats.

I've been doing these early cd-3d (aka psx /ps1 etc) styled models for some of my OCs with hopes of eventually ?? learning godot. I guess. I need to get my worldbuilding out to the world so it become property of the grand creative consciousness, aka to affect people with my art the same way people affected me.

The tri count is higher than many people tend to target for this style and i'll probably improve that over time as I make various kinds of assets related to my worldbuilding, but eh who cares lol. The textures are photobashed stock images with details painted over and posterized in photoshop.

Here's some bonus 'march of progress' of my art of him over time.

Lore? Well, many of my characters start out with me being bored or annoyed by a specific trope in media, and he is no exception. He's a few things, but primarily he's my take on the 'little pinocchio robot boy/man who wishes he was a Real human'. Thornton's character addresses more so the preoccupations we as humans have to classify and categories types of people or non-people.

The universe, with the codename Redverse, is set approximately 1920s/1930s alt-earth america. He was child to a pair of grandmaster clocksmiths in the early 1800s whom could not have children of their own, and spent decades producing an analog AI composed of millions of intricate gears assembled with a small cube which composes his brain. He has a small boiler in his trunk that provides power for the various hydraulic systems within his limbs and keeps his brain's clockwork properly wound.

After caring for his elderly parents until their deaths, he took his father's trenchcoat and gun and traveled the country. (why is his gun a german luger? i don't know, i was like 17. it looks cool.)

Computers, robots, ai, etc, are not really a thing in this universe, granted the targeted vague time period. So he's generally regarded by others as an advanced automaton (he basically is.) and as a curiosity. He however has no qualms about being artificial in nature, as he sees it, he has all the makings of the average man -- has parents, has to eat (hard coal for his boiler), and can love. To view him as nonhuman baffles him, and his matter of fact attitude about the issue tends to win over many people he gets to know. Regarded mostly with respect for his kind and empathetic nature within the communities he spends any amount of time in, he's eventually pulled into the underworld of armed resistance forming against the increasing power of a fascist authoritarian regime that has quickly possessed control of the tumultuous american politics.

A tl;dr of this universe is "but what if AMERICA was the nazis". Very clever 17yo me. I'm sure you had a shock of your life when you grew up and learned about america's rancid role in world politics. Thus the retirement and possible refactoring -- I think it can be a compelling alt history universe if I actually learn more about how do to it properly, if i ever revive it. I'm not the first person to do it but maybe I can offer something interesting if at least for the setting of a noir style vibe game.

Anyway, Thornton becomes very involved. So involved, in fact, he becomes essentially the poster child of the resistance movement. And is targeted for it.

Widely hailed as a martyr for his subsequent demise, the resistance movement gets his hands on his thankfully intact head and revive him the best they can. He is unfortunately damaged, and upon revival, starts channeling visions from beyond.

And that is about as far as I got with his story. Perhaps you will see more of him in the future.

#worldbuilding #psx #low poly #3d art #3d artwork #3d model #blender #original character #artists on tumblr #robot #steampunk #noir #ps1 aesthetic #my work

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azuresins · 1 year ago

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hey I'm not trying to get you hate but question about the poison theory... I could believe an older child could do that but why would you think a 5-year-old would? That's the part I think most people just can't get passed

I've answered this before, several times, and I'm not sure how many times this needs to be said, before people realize it's not something I'm arbitrarily making up... it's not "I believe this might happen in fiction" -- I suspected it because there have been well-documented cases of living, breathing 5-year-olds who have done this exact same thing, before. In fact, ones who have done much worse! And it was not an abuse case.

But I realized, very, very quickly, that while some people genuinely wanted to have a discussion, there were a number of people who were asking me about this, (or about asthma in general) in really bad faith? To find fault with me and put words into my mouth, paint me as someone who just hates children for no-reason or doesn't know anything about asthma. Read all of this carefully, please.

The sources and documented evidence out there, of 5-year-olds (and younger) who have killed or harmed animals, infants, are real people... and these deaths and injuries, as a result of these children and what happened to their families, are often extremely sensitive in nature. I can't justify continuing to send links of this type of evidence to people, who dislike my theory, to these studies and documentaries (the amount of content warning labels I'd have to provide, alone...) to... what...? Gawk at? Just to prove that it happens?

Should I have to explain to strangers or irritated people who have a reason not to like me, for what I think about a fictional story or character, that I actually have asthma and that I know the difference between types (most people don't know there's different types to begin with) and why none of this is adding up to me? Probably not. I know that this topic is sensitive in nature but suddenly, a lot of people were making judgments about my character and wanted to know details about my personal life. Why is that okay? If I ever came off overly defensive about this in the past, I apologize, that was why.

Back to the subject... Five-year-olds who are capable of getting into things they aren't supposed to, and playing with ""medicine."" Is that a rare occurrence? No. Five-year-olds capable of playing with ""medicine"", knowing the outcome might be harmful...and doing it anyway? Actually a lot more likely, than you think it is. Is it rare? Absolutely, but sadly... but not so rare that it's not well-documented and studied. The evidence is out there, and if people want to find it, they can do so. You don't have to take my word for it. And people can believe, what they want to believe. If they look at all of the behavior shown of RealCiel, and just shrug and say he surely can't be one of those kids. Fine. However...

- I'm suspicious, when a ten-year-old hides the ability he can regurgitate at-will, and likely had to practice this ability to perfection. He could have died, he could have choked, right then and there and just didn't. Am I supposed to believe this is the first time he's done something like that? He did it with such confidence, when he swallowed that huge ring. He knew he could keep it safe, and get it back in what I assume was a much more dignified way. That ring wasn't so much as tarnished, by his stomach acid. Why did he think he'd need this ability? Is it a watchdog secret? Or is it something he figured out on his own, and taught himself? I'm also suspicious, of the circumstances surrounding "that day" and the way real Ciel behaved, up until the moment he left the bedroom. - I'm suspicious that Tanaka was the only person spared and survived the fire, and that this master butler, a man who can stop a bullet with a sword, did nothing and seemed completely panicked... his last words before injury were "Don't come closer, Master Ciel is--!" Master Ciel is what? - I also find it an odd choice, that he trips/falls twice but both times, where moments where his brother was supposed to receive attention and he refocused it back on himself. Once during a fencing lesson when O!Ciel tried to talk to Lizzie, and once more when R!Ciel brought him flowers from the outing, he tripped and they were scattered everywhere. - I find it an odd choice, that O!Ciel was concerned with making everyone on the estate happy and worried about solving all of their problems and was considering the burdens of caring for so many people... while real Ciel compared them to livestock... like currency, and worried if they didn't keep things running right, they'd leave. A remark that wasn't unnoticed, by their father. - I'm actually not-at-all startled by how hard, R!Ciel took being told that his brother was going to leave him, someday. How hard he protested and how emotional he got, I think that part is fairly normal... but I am suspicious, of how immediate and quickly he recovered. The moment he realized, "Oh. ... I don't have a choice." Shouldn't he have cried harder? But he smiled, immediately and his tears dried up on a dime. Maybe a child in his position would have tried to run away... but with a sick brother, how could he? I don't think he just accepted it happily, I don't take that reaction at face value. I think he wanted his circumstances to be very different and someone, saw this and took advantage of him and manipulated him all the way to the events that lead to "that day." - And last but certainly not least... I'm extremely suspicious of the way Sebastian-the-borzoi reacts to Our!Ciel, especially the nose-prodding and constant barking at him, and only him. It looks a lot like a service dog alerting. They bark, they prod. They do not give up. He knew something was wrong, and if nothing else... I trust and have faith in that dog. It's not any one thing Real Ciel did, it's...everything we were shown of their childhood, combined. Could there be another party at play, here? Of course, I think it's obvious this child couldn't have acted alone. Someone with ill intentions... used him.

I don't blame him, for what happened "that day", I don't think he's 'evil' and I'm not 'out to get him' or whatever it is people think. ...

It's something that not a lot of people LIKE to think about, I'm sure, what children are capable of. But not every child who does that, is abused, and it's NOT always the cause of these behaviors. To say so? Is not only incorrect, but... it's really a slap to the face to the parents and caregivers of some of these children. I read about one case of a child who tried to kill his siblings on multiple occasions and blamed other grown adults for years, before he was caught. They found needles, knives, candy, and his mothers meds under the carpet padding in his closet. He would go to school and manipulate teachers and tell them things like, "Mommy didn't pack me a lunch today!" When she actually did, he was throwing his food, in the trash. He was not abused at home or in school, or treated any differently than his other siblings, who did not display any of this behavior.

Some people are simply born "different" and children do very strange things for attention and their ideas of love and affection, there's... a lot of people in this world, that dedicate their entire lives, to trying to help these children and understand why this occurs. To the best of my knowledge, when this occurs and abuse is not present or a cause, it's thought of as something that is neurological, with possible genetic factors at play.

While a lot of them are caught, early on (with symptoms often manifesting beyond a shadow of a doubt, around age 5... the most extreme case I've become aware of, showed alarming and severe signs at age 3 ) ... some children, learn to mask and learn how to avoid getting into trouble, and to make sure they're the most popular and well-loved person in the room. They mask so well, that this never gets properly diagnosed well into adulthood. The adults often lead quite successful lives, and don't usually seek help... because they don't feel like they need help. Why would they, unless they're forced to? For what reason? They say that psychopaths make up 1% (1 in 100 people) of the population. Yet, 20% of the most successful businessmen in CEO positions (1 in 5), are psychopaths. That all being said, this is a theory about a fictional character ...and I don't condone people using it, to hurt someone or to manipulate whether they agree or they don't. People are allowed to interpret Real Ciel differently, than I do. You're allowed to like him and think I'm incorrect. You're allowed to like him, even if I AM correct.

#Real Ciel #poison theory #tw: death mention #Sensitive topics concerning mental health of children

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strawberrysodaslut · 1 year ago

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𝓓𝓸𝓰𝓰𝔂 𝓓𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓘𝓷 - Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

(and GN!dog)

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

[ main masterlist ]

[ eddie munson masterlist ]

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

word count: 1.9k

(description in small font for formatting and convenience, actual story is in regular)

warnings: mostly fluff, some angst, mentions of upcoming death of dog, dog in palative care, not fully proof read but i tried to keep both dog and reader as gender neutral, and without descriptions, i am basing a this in real life so it might have slipped.

summary: After receiving bad news about your dog, you and Eddie decide to take them to their favourite movie at the drive ins.

authors note: Hi. It’s been a little while. This is based on something i did with my dog a few weeks ago, we took her to the eras tour movie and it’s one of the best nights i’ve had with her. i’ve i wanted to get it out within the week of that but then life happened, i had to take care of her a bit more and we sadly had to put her down the sunday before last. we’re receiving her ashes soon and i got a plush that looks like her so i felt inspired to write this again as a way to deal with my grief. i have included a lot of anecdotes about her in this, so im sorry if you’re trying to picture your dog or a past one and some events done line up. i tried my best to keep the descriptions of the dog pretty general, the only big thing i think is that they would have a tail. anyway it’s 4am and i’m crying now so i’m gonna be on my way. i hope you enjoy <3

i won’t be doing my taglist for this one, hope you can understand <3 if you would like to join the taglist for less emotional fics you can here

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

"They're not gonna let us in."

"Will you sto- they're gonna let us in." He chuckled, glancing at you quickly with a smile."Stop worrying. Remember what I told you? Your only job this week is relaxation and snuggles."

You sigh, opting to look out of the window instead of responding.

Eddie notices, but he also knows you're still listening. "Which conveniently go hand in hand don't they sweetheart." He says, upping the baby talk as he stretches his arm behind the drivers seat to scratch your dogs chin, marvelling at how quickly they leaned into his touch, groaning in joy.

"See!" He said, laughing. "I'm their favorite."

It's the same thing he said when he installed the makeshift doggy car-seat Wayne had made you months ago. When Eddie first suggested taking your dog with the two of you on drives, he started drawing up the plans immediately.

"That dog is the darn cutest thing I've seen since you were in diapers." Wayne said, pointing to his nephew. "And I don't trust your cowboy driving."

Two weeks later when he picked you and your dog up for your first big drive, you were immediately taken by surprise that he put the seat on his side.

"You traitor!" You said, pointing towards the seat Eddie was now fastening your beloved dog to, away from you.

Eddie gasped in faux shock, looking at your dog with wide eyes. "Can you believe they called me that?" He said to your dog, who responded to him only with a wagging tail and a lick on the chin.

"See!" He said, clapping his hands once your dog was settled in. "I'm their favorite. So I get to be closer to them. You get a nice view, so don't complain." He said, winking at you as he swung into the drivers seat.

You had done a lot of trips since then, but this was the first one later at night. It wasn't too bad, springtime means the sun is slowly setting a bit later. You can't help but be enamoured when you turn to look at your dog, the way the sunset sits behind them makes look like a painting.

Eddie seems to have noticed, because he's reaching on the dashboard and passing you his prized film camera. "If you don't get a photo of them right now I'm never talking to you again."

You laugh, snapping a photo that you would later discover is your favorite one you've ever taken of your dog... and a few more for good measure.

"We're here!" Eddie says, pulling into the Hawkins Drive In. He parks just outside of the concession stand. "Do you want anything."

"Popcorn and a coke please." You say, pulling out your wallet to give him money, but you know it's no use when swats it out of your hand.

Instead of mentioning it though, he turns around to the back of the seat to face your dog. "And some nuggets for you bud?"

As if they can somehow hear him, your dog yaps in response. Eddie nods, "Thought so."

"Eddie..." You start, nuggets were salty and salt is not good for your dog.

Eddie cuts you off though, "I'll ask for no salt, they'll probably like it better that way anyway. And hey, you said it didn't matter what they ate anymore."

It's not Eddie's fault, but you feel as though you've been struck. He was right, that was what you had said, but for a shining moment, you had forgotten the constant countdown ticking over your dogs head. Displaying a number you had no way of reading exactly what it said.

It doesn't take more than a second for eddie to realise what he's said. "Hey- no. I'm sorry I didn't mean to bring that up. Here, let's take them in and they can pick out something." He said, running around to your side of the door and opening it for you- ever the gentleman.

He helps you out of the car and the two of you take your dog out of the back of the van, heading into the concession bay.

Immediately you- or your dog- is greeted by a young girl running up to pay them. Her mother quickly scolding her for going up to a strangers dog. Less than a minute later, the girl carefully walks up to you, almost stubbornly.

"Can I pet your doggy?" She asks, her hand twitching as she clearly fights the urge to give your dog a big hug.

You nod your head, "You definitely can, thank you for asking." You say, looking up to the girls mother and winking at her, getting a mouthed 'thank you' in response.

And you have to say, if there is a heaven, it's going to have a tough time beating the joy your dog gets when a new person gives them cuddles. You and Eddie both swear that your dog is convinced that everywhere you go, everyone is there to see your dog specifically.

"It's the pet tax." Eddie said a few months ago when your dog barked out your front window at unsuspecting people walking by for the third time that afternoon. "The people walking past have to pay a pet tax to the top dog."

You both agree that it's better for it not to be an official tax, as your dog would not appreciate having to stop at every house with a dog so that you could pet a random dog. Absolutely not.

Eventually, the little girl's mother got her food, and told her they had to go. The girl frowned, but said bye to your dog, whispering a 'i'll save some popcorn for you.' before running off to join her mother.

In the meantime, Eddie had ordered your food, two large popcorns- of course, a coke and a pepsi- something the two of you could never agree on, and two servings of nuggets, no salt.

"You're funny." You say, opening the door for him as he tries to balance the abundance of food and drinks.

"I am- hey could you-?" He started, but you've already grabbed your drink, noticing it just about to slip from his grip and onto the dirty cement. "Yeah, thanks."

You smile at him. "We're a well oiled machine you and me." He nods in agreement, muttering something about 'you and i' incorrectly when you get back to the van. It’s hard not to chuckle.

It's barely a thirty second drive to the parking spaces for the movie, but both you and Eddie insist on strapping your dog in their seat while you park.

Unfortunately, you have to do it while your dog is giving you the saddest puppy dog eyes you've ever seen. They don't want to be in the doggy-seat, they want to be in the front with you... and the food.

The order of those aren't important.

"I know hun, but it'll just be a minute and then we'll get to cuddle okay?" You say, doing absolutely nothing to stop your dog viewing the car seat they're now in as an obstacle from the food they want.

Eddie parks the van with the back facing the screen, jumping out of the car before pulling the back doors open. You giggle when he shouts at you to wait so that he can once again open your door for you.

"Here you go m'lady!" He says in a bad british accent, pairing it with a theatrical bow.

You take his hand like how you've seen rich people do it in movies. "Why thank you sir!" You gasp, matching his dramatics instantly.

Before you can get too lost in the bit, your dog barks, reminding you that the more you chat, the longer they have to wait for food- cuddles. Cuddles, not food. Not food at all.

You climb into the back of the van, Eddie following close behind you, food in tow. "Here you go buddy, I've got the goods."

"Don't say it like that! You sound like you're giving them weed." You giggle, unclasping the safety belts from around your dog.

Eddie furrows his brows, clearly still appealing to his inner theatre kid with faux confusion, "Wait..." He says, before dramatically laying out the first blanket. "Was I not supposed to?"

You both giggle as you set up the blankets and pillows, and if you hadn't been keeping such a close eye on your dog, you might not have noticed them slowly sneaking towards where the food sits.

"Hey!" Eddie laughs, grabbing the food and moving it to where you're all going to sit among the blankets and pillows.

Once again, your dog gives an oscar winning performance, giving Eddie a look at only a starving puppy could have.

Eddie, ever the softie, gives in.

"Oh alright." He says pulling out a nugget from the box and ripping a chunk from it. "Okay, now sit." Your dog follows, tail wagging so hard it's making a clanging noise against the metal floor.

"Good, now high five." Eddie says, lifting up his right hand, your dog deciding not to leave him hanging by smacking his hand with his paw. "Good job buddy." He says, "Now other paw, can you do other paw?"

Other paw was one of the newer stills your dog learned. To be entirely honest, you have no idea how they learned it. You were just asking for high fives one day, said other paw and it worked. You gave them praise and then the next time they did it again, and then again.

You're half convinced your dog taught you other paw, not the other way around.

It's still about 50/50, if your dog thinks they've done enough, they won't respond to other paw the same they would with other commands. You guess that comes with the whole 'they trained you' theory you had.

That odd also jumps wayy down whenever you try to show off 'other paw' to someone who hasn't seen it before. Your dog loves you and enjoys your games, but they're also a pet and they love embarrassing you and proving you wrong.

Today, the odds were on your side, with your dog doing a perfect example of the 'other paw' to Eddie, who for weeks of failed attempts of showing him, thought you were lying about.

"See! I told you!" You cheered, grabbing a bigger chunk off of the nugget in Eddie's hand and giving it to your dog. "Good doggy! What a good doggy!"

Eddie laughs, "I'll be damned." He says, throwing his piece of the nugget into the air for your dog to catch, they do so, ready for more.

You both give them the rest of the nugget before settling in for the movie, you figured you'd try to spread the nuggets out, so your dog could enjoy them the whole time.

Your dog seemed to get the message, crawling inbetween you and Eddie. Or- actually, pushing the two of you apart so they could be sandwiched in the middle. Their favorite spot.

As the previews come to an end, you turn to Eddie "Thank you for doing this with me." You say, scratching your dog behind their ear.

"No thank yous necessary sweetheart, I'm glad you're both having a good time." He replies, a soft smile adorning his face.

You all relax into each other just as the beginning of your dogs favorite film; 101 Dalmatians, starts to play on the big screen.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #hurt/comfort #tw death

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lostinfantasyworlds · 10 months ago

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For the writers truth and dare game 😁

🪲,🍄,🪐

Hi Liz!!! Thank you so much for the asks!!! ❤️ 😁 🥰

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

I'm so bad at coming up with stuff on the spot so I'm going to cheat a little and use something I jotted down last night (which is probably more than 50 words 😆). This is for my main WIP, which I have talked about before but am not going to name so I can be all secretive and mysterious🤣: ------- "Do you have any informants in Hawaii?" Inuyasha asked.

Miroku seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Actually, yes. One of my oldest confidants, Hachi, spends most of his time island-hopping. Why?"

"Could you -- Is there any chance he could -- Or you could ask --"

"Aw, are you trying to ask me for a favor?" His stupid blue eyes lit up like a child, and Inuyasha's hands balled into fists. "This must be important. You can do it, use your words."

Fuming, Inuyasha's cheeks burned, which he covered up by punching his annoying partner in the arm. He so badly wanted to tell him to forget it, since Miroku was pretty much insufferable when gloating. But since this was likely his only shot to help Kagome while they were gone, he took a deep breath and swallowed his pride.

"Do you think you could ask him to keep an eye on someone for me?"

"Stalking, huh? I didn't take you as the type."

"Fucking what -- no! I just...need to know she's safe. Alive. Nothing more than that."

"Oooh...she? This keeps getting better!"

Inuyasha's eye twitched, calling on every last bit of restraint he possessed not to knock the shit-eating grin off of Miroku's stupid face.

"Can you do that for me or not?" he ground out.

Miroku seemed to realize just how close he was to getting his ass beat, because his expression turned serious. "You just want a visual confirmation of safety?" Inuyasha nodded. "How often?"

"Whenever he can manage it...once a week, every few days, whatever."

"I believe that can be arranged. I'll ask him...on one condition."

"For fuck's sake, what?"

"That you tell me what the deal is with you and this woman."

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "Why are you like this?"

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I feel like Inuyasha and Kagome would probably move pretty fast in their relationship once she returned through the well. I imagine them being engaged and making out all over the place within the first few weeks. After all that time apart thinking they'd never see each other again, and since Kagome's decision to return is the ultimate show of commitment anyways, I think they'd want to make up for lost time and just go for it. That being said, I don't imagine them having sex the same day she comes through the well or anything like that. But I also don't think it'd take them a really long time to cross all of those milestones off their list. Somewhere in the middle, like a few weeks to maybe a couple months. I love reading fics that explore all of the different possibilities though, and can get behind almost any explanation/head canon.

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

Work is slower than it's ever been at the moment, to the point where I have had days and days of absolutely nothing to do while working at home and still getting paid (I'm salaried). My bosses have shockingly not tried to give me any busy work (there really isn't much else to do since our work is entirely project-based), so I've had a lot of time to catch up on my life and do fun things lately. It is the ultimate luxury and very rare, so I'm soaking it up while I can because once things get busy again my entire life will go back to revolving around my stupid job.

My mental health has finally reached a stable place, and I've been feeling pretty good overall. After years of depression and anxiety, it's a huge relief to feel back on solid ground again.

Our house is coming together slowly but surely. We are just about to paint the room we're currently renovating, and then just have to do flooring and we'll have another space finished and ready to use!

I have a lot to be grateful for right now, things are good 🥰

Thank you again for the asks!

From the Writer's Truth & Dare Ask Game

#asks are still very much open😁#ask game

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that-bipolar-mood · 1 year ago

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Hi there,

I don't know who else to talk to about this, and your blog seems like the only one I can talk to about this (you don't even have to answer this).

About half a year ago I started getting into spirituality. At first it was wonderful, and really inspired and encouraged a lot of positive personal growth for me. I started meditating and hearing voices. However, there have been a few times that became disturbing, and a couple were downright terrifying.

I only just recently opened up to my counselor about those moments. She was naturally concerned, and reached out to my my medication specialist to let her know. The meds specialist then gave me a prescription for Abilify, and kind of rushed through the appointment without really listening to me. Hallucinations or not, to me those moments were very real, and to have them so quickly dismissed has hurt me deeply.

I see how my behaviour could be concerning for others. I agree that I do experience hypomania. I'm not living an impulsive or reckless lifestyle, but I do go through cycles of being high-strung, irritable, and depressed, only to bounce back to being pleasant and happy-go-lucky again. Yet it hurts to know that my attempts to better my life and connect with a higher source was noted as a red flag, like they were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel like all of my credibility and respectability has been taken from me overnight. It feels like whenever I become excited about something that it's going to be questioned as a suspicious and monitored as a symptom, instead of allowing me to enjoy my life like an adult. I already feel like my partner looks down on me. He uses my earlier mental illness diagnosis as a means to infantalise and patronise me, even if he doesn't think he is.

We both have relatives with bipolar disorder, and I don't see myself being like them. I've seen what mania looks like, and where it leads to. It scares and dismays me to be put into the same category as them. I could handle the ADHD and depression diagnoses, but BP is more than I'm willing to admit. Quite frankly, I'm ashamed of it. Just like I'm embarrassed for sharing my spiritual experiences and research with those around me, and how silly I must have looked.

I've decided it would be best if I avoid anything involved in spirituality, to play it safe. However, now there's a great absence in my life, with nothing worthwhile to put my time and energy into. There's a deep emptiness and loneliness in my heart with nothing to replace it. My inner compass now has no direction, I don't know what to do with myself anymore, both daily and throughout my life. I feel unremarkable, unsupported, and out of reach of G-d's love.

Thank you for reading through my vent. I hope you're having a good week.

- Jackalope

Well hello, and thank you firstly for reaching out.

To be honest, I believe the majority in the bipolar community or perhaps even the entire mental health community, understands or relates on some level. Also, I won't lie and pretend there is a simple answer here, or that anyone can give you one in the first place.

Now that I've said that, here's my personal subjective view. Spirituality saved me from my existential struggles, but I learnt the hard way that there is a line that I can never cross unless I want to get hospitalised. I tried desperately to balance my spiritual beliefs with reason and this diagnosis I received... it went horribly...for some time. Naturally, l gave up.

Guess what happened. Didn't work out. Depression kicked in faster than ever, and I'm talking about the paralysing, scary, losing-self one. Anyway, this happened next:

1. I just stopped surrounding myself with judgemental people who kept putting me down because of spirituality (frankly, I had no energy left).

2. I embraced the fact that I can be both mentally ill and practice spirituality, but starting slow...(no staying up reading on religions or painting visions instead of eating).

3. I switched psychiatrists and was lucky to find a liberal open-minded one, who helped me sort out which beliefs were harmful and which weren't.

4. Again, lucky for me, I found the right medication that kept me stable and offered me a chance to control triggers better.

So, in my experience, yoga and meditation (sometimes hours long) are not harmful but crucial. Yet, anything that occupies me enough to disrupt or just rapidly change my life can be potentially harmful. Welcome to 'the spectre life' of bipolar.

I'm not sure which diagnosis you consider to be correct for you, I can speak as someone with bipolar disorder, and my life is really all about balance. Meaning it goes both ways. I cannot do without spirituality, but I have to be careful not to "bite off more than I can chew."

I hope this helps and if you feel like chatting or anything really, please message me.

I believe truly that you have the capacity to sort this through and that you will be alright.

#bipolar disorder #actuallybipolar #manic depression #actually bipolar #spiritual #spirituality #tw hospitalization #actually mentally ill #manic depressive #actually manic #bipolar mania #ask

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jodilin65 · 7 months ago

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So glad my massive editing job is finally coming to an end. I may not have done a perfect job, but it is what it is. I'm not going through nearly 10K entries again. I tried to not only correct things but also make them more consistent. However, sometimes "OK" was "okay," and that's fine. I've noticed that different speech-to-text programs write things differently. One may say "10:00 AM" while another may say "10:00 a.m." Any idiot can understand what I'm saying, though, and most importantly, I get it.

Soon, I'm going to be getting into other things, mostly creative writing and crafts. Just for fun, I may run some of my old stories through AI and let it correct them. I don't like all the changes it makes, but the ones I do like simply correct things without changing the story itself, and I appreciate that. I don't want it to take away from my own individual creations and give me something entirely different that makes me feel like someone else wrote them and they’re not my stories.

I wish Aly were alive to enjoy these new technologies! I miss her so much. I'm sure she would have found AI helpful for some things. I absolutely love it and can't imagine going back to life without it, just like I said when Tom introduced me to computers in 1993 and then when Alexa came around in 2015.

Anyway, I don't have to run my writing through the text reader anymore. I can just skim it, give it to AI, and then skim it again to make sure it didn't change anything too drastically. It does like to tone down my swears, though, LOL, but that's OK. I still let Grammarly have a go at it the first time around. It works while I write.

Soon, I'm going to go through my last manuscript, the blackmail story with Nane as my muse. I haven't met anyone lately that makes for a good muse, so I'm using old ones. Some were people I've seen on- or offline, some came from dreams, and some came from my vivid imagination. I don't know that I'll crank out three or four stories a year like I used to, but I'm determined to finish what I start.

I'm also going to finish my latch hook rug once and for all and start the cross-stitch kit I have a feeling I'm going to regret getting. I also have adult coloring books and diamond paintings to do, plus there's acrylic painting and my oil pastels. Maybe I'll even go back to studying and practicing languages because it's good brain exercise. It's hard work, but it's fun, too.

I'm continuing to have on-and-off stomach cramps, and sometimes I even feel slight nausea. Tomorrow is lab day, so hopefully, I'll get some answers, though I don't think this is anything serious. I doubt it's connected to my liver. I'm worried I'm going to have a bunch of bad numbers just the same, but there's only so much I can do about that. Of course, they're going to call when I'm asleep since nobody can use the damn portal. The worst numbers I'm expecting to come back are cholesterol. Hopefully, my TSH will be under 10 and my A1C will be good along with my WBC. I'm not sure what to think about my thyroid because I still feel like I have hypo symptoms. I've been in a good mood, and I'm chilly at times. I have a little bit of hair loss and dry skin as well. If it's not under 10, I don't expect it to be over 15. I'm guessing it's going to be 11 or 12. The question will be why. Is the gland dying some more, or are stomach issues blocking the absorption of the medication?

Last night, I had several dreams involving my old ENT. We were goofing around playfully, and she was carrying me somewhere. I hugged her, kissed her cheek, and said, “I love you.” Then I quickly added, “In a friendly way, of course,” so she wouldn't get the wrong idea.

It's weird because I'll go a while without dreaming of her and then all of a sudden she's in several dreams. Part of me regrets rejecting friend and message requests on Facebook in case she made good on her word and contacted me, but I know she wouldn't. No one ever reaches out to me first.

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omnium-gatherums · 1 year ago

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I've talked about these things a lot on this blog, so a lot of this might be repeated things I've talked about before, but I've always said that I've described my experiences as "identity hyperfixations", where I latch onto things, even just Words that I find myself really liking, and an "identity" is "created" based around that Thing.

For some examples from my personal experiences!:

A lot of the time, these "identity hyperfixations" involve me latching onto media, particularly whatever current media we may or may not be interested in in the moment.

There's a game called Stray Gods: the Roleplaying Musical (pls play it omg pls-nJFNDSK). We were very attached to that game for a while when it came out and we found out about it. We particularly grew attached to the character Calliope and for about maybe 2 weeks or so? I thought about using the name Calliope at times, and I painted my nails yellow to match the color of her nails in the game. I wanted to dress like her and overall you can see where this is all going lmfao

Or recently where we were very attached to Splatoon (it's our main special interest, but the way we feel, play, and interact with the game and fandom and such online differs per parts!!) and 'I' identified as an octoling and just thought of myself with the name Octo, mostly as a placeholder because I couldn't think of anything better, but I grew to like it lmfao. Ofc I am always interested in Splatoon, but recently I was just much more interested in it and particularly interested in specific aspects and such, even ended up creating another blog, a Splatoon-centered blog that also functions as a sort of vent/DID-related blog (it's @annaki-octo if anyone wants to check it out lol)

You can, again, see where this is going. Incoming long post. Because I can never make a short post lmfao

I should also mention that, in the past, I often wouldn't actually ever use a different name, and I still don't, but I've more recently been doing that for a bit now because we're starting to get used to it and be okay with it and honestly it's been beneficial. But yeah, most of my life, I usually didn't outright actually use any separate names outwardly with people, and didn't even really realize that I was choosing different names for myself in the first place because I thought that I was just creating characters. And if I DID end up outwardly using a different name, it was excused as me choosing a different name because I'm trans or making up a "fake online pseudonym" for "privacy" reasons. It has never been any different to me than creating a character. It's still not.

This is basically EXACTLY what my experience is like, day-to-day/week-to-week/month-to-month.

They never really last long, and a new "identity hyperfixation" quickly follows, while the other one dies out.

And it usually goes like this, in the image above (it might be hard to read, sorry lol, but I'm describing it anyways so dw):

--- Concepts/ideas/etc. Pop Up Into My Brain:

May be thinking about the idea of using a different name

May be really invested in a new, or "re-new'd" interest (as in: something I liked in the past and I am now interested in it again after a long period of disinterest)

May prefer certain gendered terminology (or no, or different 'gendered' terminology), for example, boyfriend/girlfriend/partner (or something/anything else)

May prefer certain pronouns over others, and/or may struggle to know what kind of pronouns I like

May be thinking about changing our icon to something different than before (on Discord, Tumblr, etc.)

May be thinking about creating a new Tumblr side blog (with or without a ""fake name attached to it, definitely not an alter :)"" spoiler alert: it's usually an alter lmfao)

May or may not think about what it would be like the have a particular physical attribute(?), not sure how to word this lol, like I'll think about how I wished my hair looked a certain way, or sometimes if it's possible, I might actually do something to change my physical appearance somehow, even if it's just wearing a specific clothing piece, but sometimes it can be like with my Calliope example where I paint my nails a particular color, or I actually dye or cut my hair, etc... The possibilities can be endless and can even be much bigger changes, such as alters making the decision to go on HRT.

--- An 'Identity' Begins to 'Solidify'

May have found a name, or a 'placeholder name' to use

May like using a specific icon (on Tumblr, on Discord, etc.) or icons, or may like using icons with a common theme/visual appearance/etc. (such as using icons that feature the color blue a lot, or using icons of a specific character, etc.)

May become much more self-aware and confident in their existence

May or may not have created a new side blog, with or without a particular name attached to that blog

--- An 'Identity' Diminishes; start from the beginning

May no longer care for, or like, the previous name(s) or placeholder(s) names that we may have chosen

May no longer care for, or like, the previous icon(s) we used, the Tumblr blog(s) we may or may not have made, etc.

For as long as I can remember, this has been my experience with DID - or at least, NOW I understand that it's been DID all along.

And the cycle continues.

Nothing really ever "comes back." It's just "new" "identity" after "new" "identity" after "new" "identity" for me, day in and day out, week-to-week, month-to-month.

Not sure how to close off this post, but yeah lmfao

#my posts #actuallydid #actuallyosdd #polyfrag system #polyfragmented did #complex did #polyfrag did #polyfragmented system

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stewyso · 1 year ago

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tw murder

"Don't think, run. Run until you drop dead till nothing can find you and nothing can stop you, run until you feel like everything and nothing and eternal."

I repeat the words until I know nothing else. It was the last thing said to me before I did as told, I ran and ran to a place no human could find and no light could enter.

Today, I was a traitor chased to be later killed, yesterday, I was one of the most acknowledged nobles. Be it for my work in various fields or my status or my achievements in bringing a more just system where not only an elite few can enjoy life. And one mistake with timing just right to form into an elaborate story on why I am but undeserving of life under the sun of our land, the emperor.

And so I did as my master ordered, I ran far away. Half of the journey, I think, by foot until I found a horse which helped me get into this surreal forest.

It's sights something you would only see in the finest of paintings, colors that make you wish your world looked this good. It's flowers all shades of blue and purple and a bit of pink every here and now. It's trees' barks something between a whimsical blue and brown. As I kept walking I found a lake. It had a few frogs and fish, fallen petals were especially abundant around it. Although the water was quite tempting after so much walking, I decided against it lest it brings unwanted danger.

I started getting scared; a gut feeling telling me this isn't safe I tried getting out in a hurry and hung my sword against my waist.

Eventually, I reached an abandoned city, most of it's structures made from bricks except, what I'm assuming is, the poorer part of the city. One building however, was preserved in pristine condition, with stones making a pathway and flowers emitting a small light surrounding it. I get down from the horse, tying it's halter around a tree. Inside I see hundreds, if not thousands of bookshelves, each part having multiple seats and foreign snacks. Puzzled, I call out for anyone.

"Oh who's there?" I hear a feminine voice say and out comes a lady, maybe in her 50s? "Well it's quite the surprise to see someone here. If they way here isn't hard enough to figure, the city outside is quite frightening, no?" we both share a small laugh.

"You're right but I have nowhere else to go," sadness is lacing my voice as i briefly remember all what happened.

"why come here of all places then? the world outside is vast surely there are better places to consider first,"

"I was told to run, so I did and..well I got here,"

"Oh, well I won't pry any further, you're welcome to stay although it is quite boring here. Surely you're hungry from your trip. Come I'll get you food," she said in understanding and I couldn't help the warm safe feeling inside me.

I followed her further inside until we reached a kitchen, this time I could easily recognize the different foods. "You're not from here are you?" I ask a bit suspicious as the food outside was unrecognizable for me. "No, I, much like you, left my old life behind. I found this place and decided to stay here," she grabs all kinds of pots and plates quickly, it's strangely robotic; her movements. Almost resembling that of a poor actor after many rehearsals. I think nothing of it and instead keep watching.

"You know, I've been trying to discover the language used for the books outside for as long as I've been here,"

"No luck, huh?" I chuckle slightly a bit awkwardly.

"Well," she sighed quietly, "it's not something I ever studied."

"I'd tried studying it before but language probed to not be strong suit, but perhaps I should try with the books outside anyway since I've experience? I can't help but admit they've also piqued my interest"

" Very well," she turned around two plates of food in hand and a third one along with a cup on the counter, "You must rest before that," she finished as I grabbed the remaining plates begining to follow her

"There's a spare room in good condition just up stairs, when I first came in the closet somehow had the type of clothes I'd wear in my same size. I imagine the same will happen to you whatever civilization was here seems profound in magic," she seemed far away in thought and strangely somber.

I followed her up a few stairs, the floor it led to having only two rooms. As we set down the food I asked for the time, after replying she ushered me to bed insisting on my need for rest. It was six already, yet the sun still hung brightly casting a warm light over the small room.

It had a wooden bed with intricate carvings. As well as lavender bedding that matched the bedside table, while the closet matched the bed, plain and fancy. I got up to open it and true to the lady's words I found clothes of all kinds and colors, each of them being my size and style. I got slightly suspicious of this place and even more so towards the old lady, something just felt off. However I also felt a strange intruding calmness.

One that kept me from reacting as if chaining my real feelings towards this place, my thoughts a mere whisper in it's wake. I sat down on the bed and ate slowly.

I thought back on everything and how unreal it seems, that all I'd ever done in life was gone in seconds. I wonder if I can ever go back.

Suddenly, I heard a muffled scream quickly followed by a thud, along came the same strange feeling overtaking me playing me like a stringed puppet. I slowly get up and head towards the other room; and the walk feels agitatingly long and slow despite the short distance between the room. The moment I step in, I'm met with blood and broken wood shards splattered everywhere across the room. I'm horrified, my mind running this thoughts, why? how? who? all muffled by the same hypnotizing sense.

Despite my best effort to resist I gently close the door, as if seeing nothing, and take the same slow, long walk back to the room.

As night comes, the revolting calmness and comfort I feel forced to sleep, not allowing me a chance at my thoughts and I feel like a doll.

Secretly I enjoy being so numb, not have to worry or take action to anything, it is unlike anything I've ever done. Yet a sense of responsibility overshadows my wish of a completely peaceful life, awaiting a chance to take control and investigate the murder.

⏝⊹⌣⊹⏝⊹⌣⊹⏝⊹⌣⊹⏝⊹⌣⊹⏝⊹⌣⊹

I wrote a lot but they all needed to be edited which i procrastinated😭 finally finished this tho i might write another part but i honestly don't have anything in mind for what to happen lol

if you repost this please give me credit and i always appreciate advice/comments on my work:D

#writing #fantasy #mystery #murder tw #historic

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paddockbunny · 2 years ago

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Repeat Offender

Summary : Charles is recently single and quickly finds himself in a "friends with benefits" situation with none other than his ex-girlfriend's best friend.

Rating : 18+, Mature

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x Reader

Word Count : 7, 345

Trigger Warnings : 18+, Mature & Adult themes, Angsty, FWB situation, PinV sex, Unprotected sex, Oral (female receiving), slight choking, c*m talk & language

Authors Note : Firstly, I had around five or six requests for a newly single charles or rebounding charles so I've amalgamated them all into one. Thank you for the inspo to all of those who requested something to do with this. I'm trying out some first person stuff on this one so although it's labelled as "reader" YOU are in fact the author/reader if that makes sense. I also don't mention Charles' ex by name and that is very much on purpose as I keep my blog as IRL WAG free as possible so none of my stories will feature any of their names, hope you can all understand why. Anyway, this is LOOOOOONG so it has not been proofread yet.

You know when you wake up but your not fully awake yet, you’re like conscious but not alert? Well, that was exactly how I was feeling as the room was ever so slightly spinning and the faint memory of strawberry daiquiri's and vodka shots were beginning to flash across my eyes. So was the deafening sound of the music, the ache in the arches of my feet from stupid heels and the feeling of hands creeping around my waist pulling my ass against a firm crotch while dancing. Then as I slowly crept more and more into consciousness I felt the slight ache from my thighs kick in and the feeling my body had been through it.

Finally, after summoning up the energy to do it, I managed to open my eyes. They felt heavy and dense and I realised there was no way I had made it home because I had slept in my make-up - and regardless of whatever state I was in I would always manage to stumble into the bathroom to at least wipe most of the night out greasepaint off of my face so the fact it was still firmly in place meant the worst. As my vision was struggled to focus I wriggled around in a rather comfortable bed and attempted to pull myself up without a wave of nausea lash upon me. Exactly how much did I fucking drink last night? But then as eventually my eyes concentrated on something and a very loud groan reverberated from my throat. The familiar bright coloured art work that hung from the white wall across from the bottom of the bed was like a vicious, unwelcome enemy. I had studied it far too many times to count and each time it got worse and worse. It was like the eyes of T. J Eckleburg in The Great Gatsby, but instead of the judgment of an inanimate object upon American society, this horrendous painting was judging my piss poor decisions of the night prior which lead me to waking up in this damn bed, once again. And as my stomach lurched I had to force myself to make sure I was in the bed of the man whom the awful painting belonged to.

At an almost glacier pace my head began to turn. Crawling up the sheet clad outline of a pair of calves, knees and up to big, broad thighs and into the covered - yet barely - crotch. The outline of his cock almost visible through the white cotton that was practically failing to protect his modesty. His hips were next, then the outline of abs which yeah ok - I can admit it, I’ve traced with my tongue before so sue me. Then I couldn’t do it any longer. I was just drawing things out. I snapped my head immediately up to his and yup! It was Charles.

“Oh fuck!” I groaned loudly and with an eye roll I drew my hands over my face. Listen, you might be thinking “he’s fucking hot as hell, probably an incredible shag and I’d love to know how big his cock is” but, it’s all the other stuff that goes along with these nights of drunken yet passionate sex with Charles that makes me sick to my stomach each time I wake up here. You see Charles had so much awkward baggage that spilled over into my own life and I really went through several stages of self loathing when I left his apartment and had the embarrassing walk of shame home the next day. “Good morning to you too.” He scoffed loudly but by this point I knew he probably felt as guilt-ridden and dismayed as I felt.

Silence had momentarily befallen us. All I heard was the quick typing of his thumbs hitting his phone screen. It was almost annoying. That incessant tap, tappy tappy tappy, tap, tap as he typed whatever was in his head into a text or whatever he was doing. I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes and thought how likely it was that he was probably texting one of his friends telling them how the pair of us had hooked up AGAIN! Most likely he was asking for their advice on how to get me out of his bed. Not that he needed any because there was no way in hell I felt like staying. I wanted to get out of here as badly and he wanted to kick me out. Just as I moved to sit upright a bit more and try search for my stomach lurched and I had to take a few deep breaths not to feel the effects of last nights alcohol. Something which unfortunately Charles noticed and as he asked if I was suffering from a the dreaded hangover, sarcasm laced thick in his voice.

“Why does this always happen? Why do we do this?” I sighed while letting out a long, drawn out exhale. The question hung in the air and I could feel Charles’ eyes suddenly burrowing into the side of my head. I knew there were words teetering on the tip of his tongue and could practically hear his brain working out a response that sounded appropriate for me but thankfully, he remained in silence. There was no doubt he would have been regretting whatever things happened last night as much as I was and yet, he didn’t seem particularly consumed by guilt. He seemed rather carefree right now so scoff I closed my eyes in an attempt to piece the puzzle together remember what the fuck happened last night.

The music was far too loud but the fourth fruity cocktail I currently clasped in my hand made me rather immune and numb to it. I danced just like all the other girls out in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Hips swaying side to side in time with the rhythm. Hair swishing around without a care in the world. Feet aching in stupid stilettos. To have looked at me in that moment anyone would be forgiven for thinking I was a party girl. One of those glamorous girls always out on the town, partying, blowing cash (boys and snow* too probably) but really I hated going out. I hated the stress of finding something to wear, doing the whole routine of make-up and hair and then feeling like I was in the middle of a cattle market. At least the men in Monaco happened to be rich and therefore no girls spent a dime all night from all the free drinks that would get bought. And the fact that someone in my group always seemed to know someone else in another and that meant VIP was inevitable. And I mean come on, who wouldn’t want to be sat in VIP?! Which was funnily enough, where Amelie was pulling me in the direction of and then I sighed when I saw why.

Sat in a booth was none other than Charles and his gang of buddies that I really wish would have been anywhere else in the world tonight and not in this nightclub. As soon as he looked around and saw me heading toward him I swear he rolled his eyes.

“Fucking hello to you too Charles.” I thought, muttering under my breath while I and rolled my own eyes back at him sarcastically. And that was when my mind flashed back to the last time we saw each other. It had been at that shitty dinner where I actually felt sorry for him having to sit the whole night flashing googly eyes at his ex girlfriend hoping she would notice him even though the night before he had had his cock shoved down my throat, me! The one he spent the entire time ignoring. But the thing was, I knew one thing he didn’t and that was she was already moving on with someone who might have been too close too home for him to even comprehend. Yet, with his attitude I said nothing and allowed him to remain in purgatory. Sad thing was, she never even so much as glanced at him the whole meal. Then I remembered what happened after, once everyone had drank heavily and shared cars home. It hadn’t been the first time (nor the second, third or fourth and was actually more like the eleventh or twelfth) that Charles had put the moves on me and I stupidly succumbed to his seductions. But now as I reached the table the thought of his hands being between my thighs, his fingers caressing my desperate clit with the door to his apartment wide open behind us in an utterly voyeuristic display - one that I would never have pegged him as the type to enjoy - danced teasingly through my thoughts. He slid into the booth a little more and nodded in the direction of the now vacant faux leather seat beside him for me to sit in. He looked good tonight and for once that wasn’t the alcohol in my system talking. He seemed to be in good spirits and I figured he must have been celebrating a good race. It was neutral ground so I thought it was something I could talk to him about. When I went to open my mouth to do exactly so, my words were swallowed by his; “Have you seen her recently?” Your mouth parted slightly before closing. You had to bite your tongue before you said something to the effect of “fuck off” or “fuck you” and quickly shook your head to respond to him. Then loudly from across the table one of his friends shouted loudly “shots” and thankfully it distracted Charles from pushing the conversation toward her like he wanted.

Several shots were taken and yet another strong strawberry daiquiri was being drunk while having as everyone sat at the table has as much of a conversation as possible over the loud thumping music. I raised my voice as I leaned forward to answer one of the questions Charles’ friends had asked me. We had met before and yet he did that typical male thing of forgetting who I was and therefore I had to tell him all over again much to my slight annoyance and dismay. But as I was explaining what I did for a living, I stuttered when suddenly I felt the flesh of soft fingertips ghost up and down my bare naked thigh. The action almost made me brake my calm, collected exterior. He couldn’t be serious? We had barely spoken since I sat down nearly an hour ago and as his thumb stroked up and down the skin of my inner thigh I glanced at him. He wasn’t even paying attention, he was doing it just for the sake of it, because he could. And so without a single thought I decided it was time to go and dance again. I wanted to put distance between him and I because we would only end up doing what was by now becoming a habit and falling into bed together.

As I grabbed Amelie and pulled her back to dance with me, I could feel the familiar pulsating throb from between my thighs at the thought of Charles. I tried to push the thoughts of him out of my brain as I began dancing and yet, it was a pointless task as all I kept thinking about was how badly I needed him and how he melted all of my annoyed thoughts of him away with a simple touch of his damn hand. The worst part was, just as Amelie and I settled into moving our bodies one of Charles’ friends rudely pushed between us. I was just about to argue and tell him to get lost when I suddenly felt hands creep around my waist. I didn’t need to look to know who they belonged too and I realised the intrusion in between me and my dance partner had been orchestrated.

“Running away from me?” Charles purred against the side of my neck. Why did he do this? Every single time we saw each other he always got underneath my skin. I hated him for it but I felt powerless against him and his cocky seduction techniques. His hands gripped my waist tighter as he pulled me back so I was flush against him. Our hips moving side to side while he got all the friction of my ass grinding against his crotch. “We said the last time was the last time.” “No. You did.” His words were more direct than I would have expected them to be. Almost like he was annoyed at me for implying I was about to turn him down - as if I could if I wanted too, just having the teasing action of his clothed cock so close to where I wanted it would have had me making a public embarrassment of myself right here in a nightclub. And without warning he used those lingering hands to turn me around to face him. “Let me take you home.” “No, Charles. We cannot keep doing this.” The sheer fact that when I spoke to him he was looking at my mouth instead of in my eyes made me want to kick him in the shin for being so vexing. But right as I was trying to convince myself to stand my ground against him he cast his eyes across my body and fuck, the things it did to me when he looked at me like that. “Charles, we’re playing with fire….”

“So? We’ll both burn together.” He shrugged nonchalantly. And I suddenly realised how we were no longer dancing and simply standing staring at each other while everyone else around us continued. In a regular situation - when alcohol wasn’t coursing through my body clouding my judgment - I would have felt self conscious but right now all I could think about was the fact he wanted me so badly he was out here making bold declarations. For a second the fact his first words to me earlier were about his ex girlfriend entered into my mind and a fleeting crushing feeling passed through my soul. He just wanted me to release his tension, not because he ACTUALLY wanted me. I zoned out briefly as I thought of how bad I always felt the next day and considered if I was strong enough to do it again. But as I was contemplating his hand travelled up to my neck and he made me look at him and I was gone. I wanted him to make me feel good.

How he managed to get us both out of the nightclub so easily I had no idea. His hand was wrapped around my wrist guiding me past hordes of people and out toward an exit. It took all but two minutes until we were in the back of a car heading back to his. It seemed too swift to me, too well thought out and I realised that he was so arrogant because he knew I would say yes and probably pre-arranged the car to pick us up. In that second I knew I should have been so pissed off and angry that he would think I was that easy but I let it slip again because I knew I was using him as much as he was using me. I liked the momentary, fleeting high he gave me. I was like a drug taker, he was the drug, and I was willing to take the short hits when I could. So I was every bit as bad as he was. Charles normally didn’t behave to politely in the back of the cars we took as we went back to his. His hands would be roaming, following suit with his mouth. He always made sure to light the match inside of me before we even got to the safety of his apartment. The fact he could be caught out, someone could tell, seemed to always be the furthest thing from his mind and so tonight, it was different. He sat further away and kept his hands very much to himself. And when I couldn’t help but glance across the car toward him and watched as his jaw seemed to clench I swallowed while nerves buzzed through my brain.

As soon as we got to his apartment building Charles called for the elevator and I couldn’t help but feel the same attitude radiating from him. It was the same attitude he had in the car and I thought about turning on my heels and leaving immediately. I didn't even know how to read him. Which meant I was so caught in the thought of trying to work him out that I missed the ding of the lift stopping on the lobby and sliding open. It wasn’t until Charles practically purred my name and held his hand out for me from inside the elevator that I snapped back into reality due to the look that filled his eyes. You knew it all too well. It was self assured, cocky confidence. He knew I couldn’t turn him down, I couldn’t turn his cock down, I craved it and what he could do with it too much. And so when my high heel clad feet crossed the marble floor and passed the iron thread hold of the lift I felt the surge of excitement buzz throughout my body.

The pair of us rode the elevator is silence but my hand remained firmly gripped in Charles’ and his thumb was delicately running over the back of my knuckles. It would be almost fucking romantic if there was any smidgen of a “normal” relationship between us. Now that I had registered the buzz of excitement I also felt the more steady and familiar hit of anxiety that went with it. It was pre-sex anxiety - that realistically I had no reason to have, this wasn’t my first rodeo (certainly not with Charles) but I still had it anyway. The silence would have been deafening to anyone else but right now I was kind of thankful for it. I didn’t want to chat because if I did I would feel guilt and I really didn’t want to feel guilty about what my body craved and desired above all else. The short ride up to Charles’ apartment ended when the lift door slid open and he gently pulled me out behind him. Fuck, I wish I had drunk more. Alcohol would have banished the unfair apprehension I was feeling. I leaned against the wall while Charles opened the door with his key. The curve of his shoulders made my mouth water. The thought of kissing his thick, strong neck while hearing the sound of pleasurable moans escape him sent a pulsating ache through my core. He pushed open the door and held it there with his hand, waiting for me to enter his abode first, ahead of him. And I mustered up all the confidence I could manage to saunter past him and glide into the hallway. The millions he took home from his career driving in fast circles paid off. Charles home was beautiful but like always, I wasn’t here to appreciate it.

Charles hands on my bare arms reminded me of that. He pressed against me from behind and I could feel his semi hard cock already straining against his jeans and I tried desperately to hold it back but a gasp escaped passed my lips as he moved my hair to the side to expose my neck to him. Fuck. The feel of his lips as they pressed delicate tender kisses against my flesh had my mind whirling. I pushed back into him more, instinct completely taking over, and a low groan rolled out of his parted lips and sent tingles up and down my spine. It was dangerous to have allowed myself to think it but I gave in and thought about how it would feel to have been his - properly, as a girlfriend - for all but a few fleeting seconds.

When Charles hands moved from my arms to my waist and I wasted no time. The alcohol came rushing back to me and I turned to him at breakneck speed. My lips finding his immediately. As my hands slowly glided upon the skin of his neck holding him to me. When I let out a small moan it was the sign he needed to start pushing me backward till my back pressed against a cold wall and his tongue pushed into my mouth. He tasted like the liquor he had consumed and as his tongue ran teasingly across my bottom lip he followed it with his teeth and it brought another moan from me, like he knew it would. Charles’ hands left my waist and I felt them slip down to my legs. His fingers skimming the outside of my thighs. I knew he wanted to push my dress up. He was growing impatient and that became very obvious when he yanked me away from the wall and pulled me through his house to his bedroom. The familiar surroundings welcomed me like a sneaky comrade. The walls practically smirked as I was pulled in by Charles. I could become accustomed to these plush surroundings if he saw me as more than a just a hook-up but that was a fucking dumb idea.

My dress was off faster than I knew what was happening. It was around my ankles on the floor and Charles was already making fast work of removing his shirt. His eyes hungrily fixed on my bare chest. He was practically wolf like as his eyes remained on my skin the whole time. I would have blushed if I had been less confident. “Take them off.” It was the first time he spoke since we had left the club. “You heard me.” He flashed his eyes down toward the thin scrap of black lace material that could barely behold the name of underwear. As my eyes travelled down to where his hands were working on ridding himself of his jeans I realised I wasn’t ready to allow him to have all the fun. “No.” I stated. “Take them off me.” My stomach flipped and I watched as a smirk disappeared from his face as quick as it appeared.

“That’s how you want it huh?” He abandoned trying to remove his jeans and his hand suddenly went to my neck and held me firmly before he used it to push me backward on to the bed. My heart hastily quickened. It hammered against my rib cage so quickly it began to hurt. I looked up at him full of expectation but he wasted no time in hooking his fingers around the sides of the only material left on my body and roughly pulling them down my legs and off completely. I watched Charles as he took me in. His eyes casting over and lingering in all the important areas. I bit my bottom lip as my own eyes mimicked his and I took in his perfectly sculpted chest and then his defined muscular abs. The lines on his hips that were line a tempting signal down toward his now erect cock, standing to full attention. He watched me watching him and cockily laughed. “Go on.” He tilted his head and I knew exactly what he was referring too. He wanted head. He wanted me to blow him. And I would have, I would have blown him till my jaw ached and throat couldn’t take anymore, but I reminded him that he wasn’t getting full control.

Much to Charles surprise, I pulled my ankles up and put myself on full display for him. I played him at his own game. If he wanted me to go down on him he had to do it first. I held his gaze and so when he laughed again I wasn’t so sure he was as willing to be a giver as much as a taker, but within a few agonising moments he proved me wrong. Charles was down on his knees and instantly pulled your legs up so you could rest them on his shoulders. And although it was something of an embarrassing confession to make, all of the times we had had sex, Charles had never gone down on me. Not once. So now that his head was between my thighs, mouth so tantalisingly close, eyes locked on to mine, I held my breath in anticipation. Charles gently ran his fingers up and down my dampening folds. I swallowed the breath that was caught in my throat as Charles finally licked a slow, teasing stripe that followed the pattern of his fingers moments earlier. He repeated the action over and over again. Using it to torment me. My hands grabbed hold of the sheets, fingers entwined in the high thread count duvet, when Charles began to pay attention to my pulsating, throbbing clit. Small, short flutters were mixed in with strong kisses. And then a loud exhale left my lips as he pushed two of his fingers inside me.

“Char….” I couldn’t get his name out. My breathing was erratic and all I could think about was what his mouth was doing. As his tongue continued lapping at my clit, his fingers curled up inside of me and Charles immediately found and started massaging that magical spot that made me gasp. And he continued even when I shoved my hands through his hair and gripped on for dead life. My eyes squeezed tightly shut as I felt the first high of an orgasm fast approaching. Swear words were all I could manage. My mouth going between wide open to get as much air as I possibly could and tightly shut with my top teeth digging into my bottom lip practically drawing blood. I was almost so lost in the beginning of the wave of euphoric pleasure that I missed the moan Charles made as he felt my walls start to convulse around his fingers. Fuck. How and why did I not beg for him to do this to me sooner? He was far too good at it. It was borderline obscene how good he was at it. And totally criminal that he had never gone down on me before. Right as I felt every nerve in my body begin to be ignited with the high of a climax Charles removed his mouth and in its place used the fingers of his other hand to draw rapid circles against my clit. The motion made me loose complete control of my mind and his name burst free from my mouth as wave upon wave of ecstasy crashed upon me. The high was undeniable. It took hold of my body and I felt myself quivering as he slipped his fingers out of me, covered in the product of my orgasm.

“Look at me.” Charles voice came quietly but strongly and I did as he requested. I opened my eyes and looked down at where he still remained, between my thighs. He held my stare as he ran the fingers he had brought me to orgasm with back up and down my now dripping folds. A small tremor shuddered through my thighs as he did so. And then with my eyes trained straight on his he raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them. It took a second to register the feeling that I felt in that moment but as he raised to his feet and I saw his cock rock hard, with its purpling tip already leaking pre-cum, I knew it was one that filled me with unashamed excitement. “Turn over.” He demanded and I relinquished the control I had won earlier so easily. Not because he wanted me too but because I wanted too. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than for Charles to fucking rail me into oblivion. I turned and got on all fours on the bed. Ass facing him. It was a position I had come to realise was one of his favourites. Sure he liked watching my boobs bounce as I rode him cowgirl and sometimes if he was feeling slightly more tired he’d fuck missionary, but Doggy was his favourite (like most guys). The momentary lapse of concentration earned me a firm thwack of his hand against the round flesh of my ass. I yelped and lunged forward and I felt the enjoyment radiating off of him. I doubted she let him do that, I doubted she would have enjoyed it. I moaned and after I wiggled my hips around a little he did it again so that a more audible whimper left my mouth.

“Fuck me…” I knew it was what he wanted to hear so I gave it to him. “Please, Charles….” I added more good measure and sure enough, he pulled my hips back and immediately ran his leaking cock over my sensitive folds to collect the mixture of his spit and my juices.

As he lined up at my entrance and pushed the head of his cock inside of me, teasingly slowly, I pushed back for more. It was an action that I knew he would have enjoyed and he groaned as he gave me more of himself. His hand splayed on my lower back and forced me down into the mattress more so I arched for him and then he gave me all of himself. He bottomed out and the stretch from his girthy cock had me once again gasping and gripping the sheets. He stalled for a moment - savouring the feeling no doubt - before he began moving. Slow at first. A steady but slow rhythm that I needed, rather than wanted, to quickly increase. Charles moaned loudly and paused for a second only to surprise me completely. “Your pussy is so fucking perfect. You, are so fucking perfect.” I knew he didn’t mean it in THAT way - he didn’t like me like that, I knew that and he didn’t even need to verbalise it - but his praise made me feel good all the same. I wriggled my hips again to urge him to move and when he did his pace increased. It increased until I was a panting writhing mess. I loved how big he felt at this angle and how he would alternate between giving me quick, short spanks and pulling my hair. And honestly I truly had to focus so I didn’t cum just yet. His cock continually hitting my g-spot could have made me see stars but I didn’t want to give in yet. I wanted more of him so I urged him on my moaning his name over and over and over again through heavy sighs. His hand wrapped itself around my hair once again and this time he pulled me back so my back was flush against him.

“Say my name again.” His voice was lower than I had ever heard it before. Lower than I ever thought possible. The hand that had been wrapped around my long hair was now around my throat, holding my in place against his body as he continued thrusting up into me. I couldn’t focus on words. I just kept thinking about Charles’ lips being on my neck and feeling how fast my heart was going through the vein they lingered upon. His teeth grazed the flesh and his name whimpered across my lips a few times before he finally called me a “good girl” and I almost lost my mind between that and the angle his cock was at. He had to know how close I was. He had to feel how my pussy tightened around his cock and I was beginning to struggle to keep going. His teeth sunk into my shoulder and he groaned as I couldn’t stop the orgasm that came thrashing down upon me. I grabbed his arm so tightly my fingernails would leave marks upon his skin. My whole body convulsed as finally I let go and let the climax take hold of me. The high Charles had given me seemed to be otherworldly and stratospheric. It took me to another fucking planet and none more so than when he groaned, gripped my hips and held me down in place while he himself, found release. I could feel the pulse of his cock inside of me as his hot, milky cum poured out of him. The feeling was insurmountable. The twitch of him as he filled me up seemed the prolong my orgasm even longer and when the shakes that ravaged my body became too much, I couldn’t keep my knees from giving way and so finally fell forward against the bed again. All I could hear was Charles and I’s heavy, exhausted breathing.

As Charles settled down beside me on the bed he ran his hands up and down my back. It was a rather tender, sweet motion for someone who had just railed me into oblivion but I didn’t mind it. Suddenly as I found myself lying still - still recovering from those two incredible orgasms - I felt the alcohol from earlier catch up on me. The room seemed a bit spiny and I really didn’t want to throw up anywhere in Charles all white apartment. But then - right on queue - with his breathing still laboured Charles asked if I wanted anything and suggested a towel and a glass of water. Not to sound like a broken fucking record but this was new, he had never done this before. He had never really spoken after we had fucked so this was totally left field. I nodded and said both would be nice if he didn’t mind.

“Ok, be right back.” I listened to his words but stayed in the same position as I had earlier - mainly because I was scared of being sick and because now I was completely exhausted but also because I didn’t want Charles’ cum to leak out of me and go all over his extortionate sheets. I thought the action of him going to get me things would have been nice for a normal, regular girl (y’know, one he was dating) but seemed unusual for him to extend such gestures to me, his fuck buddy, his hook-up, his piece of ass. When he finally came back clutching an ice cold glass of water and a warmed damp towel for me to clean up with I expected him to hand me my dress as well. But my dress remained on the floor and he stared down at me while I drank from the glass. “Let me.” He motioned when I went for the towel. Charles took the glass from me and placed it on the floor before crouching down there himself. I was about to question him, ask him what he thought he was doing, when he lifted one of my legs and slowly parted them. My breathing all but stopped as he dabbed at my slightly red, a little bit tender pussy with the warm cloth. I let out an unsteady, unsure exhale of air as he watched his cum slowly seep out of me.

“Hmmm….” He purred “I should have told you my pull out game is weak.” He chuckled and in that singular moment he made me laugh. He sat back on his heels and laughed with me and all of the nervous energy in my body disappeared. All I could focus on was the sound of his laughter and how much I liked it and in a different life I would have wanted to hear it every single day for an eternity.

I rushed to try and find my dress, hoping that he hadn’t torn this one like last time. I wanted to spend the least amount of time naked in front of him as possible now snapshots of last night began coming back to me. Charles observed from his place in bed. Watching me as I sprinted around to get back into last nights clothes so I could leave. As the sunlight streamed in through his window it bathed us both in the cold harsh reality of the day and it was very much bringing a self loathing vibe along with it. Suddenly a wave of riotous nausea flashed upon me and my head felt like it belonged in a vice. Through clenched teeth I rubbed my forehead from the searing pain screaming throughout it

“Can I get you painkillers?” His voice had turned soft and was rather strange because it wasn’t what I was used too from him - or was that the narrative my own brain made up for me to believe he was a metaphorical bad guy? “Don’t do that, Charles. Don’t be nice to me.” “Why?” He acted so innocent and I knew he was putting on a front, there was no way he could be so stupid. “Because!” I practically shrieked, “I’m your ex-girlfriend’s best friend and we can’t stop fucking each other.” “I think you’ll probably be her ex-best friend if she finds out about us.” FUCK! He really didn’t need to hit me with the reality stick right now. The smugness was almost woven through his voice and I had to restrain myself from throttling him. But in reality the cold light of day made me feel angry and disappointed with myself, something I doubted he felt about this situation at all.

“That’s not going to happen.” I snap back at him. “Because there is no “us”, there never will be an “us.” Your voice lowered and you knew it sounded sadder than you intended. It didn’t stop Charles from continuing however. “Right…..” he rolled his eyes “until you’ve had too many strong cocktails and vodka shots and then you won’t be able to say no. Just like you always.” With his words lingering in the air I had to fight the urge to yell at him that I was never the instigator and he was the one who always came after me. I desperately wanted to fucking correct him and scream at him that he used me to forget about his ex, about Ferrari, about all the pressures of the life he leads and that it was HIM that sought ME out, not the other way around. But for some unknown reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to start an argument with him. I pulled on my dress hurriedly once I found it, no longer wanting to be so naked in front of him. All I wanted was to get the embarrassing walk of shame back to my apartment over already. I busied myself from the silence by looking for my shoes and I almost missed Charles getting out of bed and getting dressed.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” I heard him say as I pulled up the covers and found my black heel under them at the bottom of the bed. I now felt uncomfortable in his presence after the last words he spoke. Instinctively I told him; “It’s fine, I’ll call an Uber.” “I’m not suggesting. I’m telling.” He stated bluntly and this was new, this had never happened before. He was rarely awake when I slunk out the door of his apartment - because it was always his apartment or hotel room never mine - so this was completely foreign to me. “If you’re sure.” I half expected him to say of course he didn’t mean it, laugh, explain he was messing and to call that Uber immediately. But he just nodded and picked up my other heel from beside the door and held it out to me. I tried to avoid his eyes. I didn’t want him to see any emotion at at all behind mines so I took the shoe and shoved it on to distract myself.

We didn’t speak the whole ride to my apartment. The silence was only somewhat uncomfortable but for some strange reason things felt rather calm. Sitting in the passenger seat of Charles’ Ferrari - which I had never before sat in - felt somewhat surreal. I was hyper aware that the seat still practically bore another girls name. It still belonged to her and he would have her back without so much as blinking. I kept my eyes on the roads as Charles expertly drove the expensive luxury vehicle around them. Hoping the red lights would turn green as soon as we approached them.

“I do like you, y’know?” Came abruptly from Charles mouth when we turned onto my street, my apartment building in sight. I thought my ears were deceiving me so I broke my trance and glanced at him. “I know you probably think you’re just a rebound or….” He trailed off as he put the blinker on to pull over into the lane he could stop in to let me out. I could see the front door to my building and I had never seen a more welcome sight. “…but it’s not like that.”

I was desperate to ask what it was in fact like, what exactly he thought was going on but thankfully he brought the car to a stop and I could finally jump out and escape the awkwardness. There was this uneasy feeling in the car that hit me like a led balloon and right in the middle of my chest. I hated it. I wasn’t used to it, especially not with Charles. I was used to feeling annoyed, frustrated and fuck, disappointed by him. The first few times we fucked I’d have said I felt used but that went away because I enjoyed our trysts as much as he did. And besides I didn’t need validation from him. I didn’t need him to need me. But then right now, as I waited to get out of the car with my hand on the door handle, it hit me how badly the words he had just spoken were actually all the things that I craved and desired above all else and it was startling. Then Charles said my name so gently, totally unlike he had ever said it before, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I’d like to take you out sometime, properly. On a date.”

But before I knew what I was even doing I pulled the handle, pushed the door and started getting out of his car. He yelled my name so I would stop and for a second I did but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to fall for him. “You know that can’t happen, Charles.” I managed to say in something struggling to be above a whisper “you don’t want me, you don’t even really like me, you’re still in love with her.”

The elevator ride up to my apartment felt like it took an eternity. The words he had spoken rang throughout my head as if a bomb had gone off and I was momentarily deaf. Fuck him. Fuck his bullshit and fuck how I fucking felt right now because of him. I was right for telling him that he was wrong and he still loved his stupid ex but it hurt because being with him always did. Being picked up and dropped all the time hurt. I wanted to be one of those girls who would have fallen for his words, whose stomach flipped when he told them he liked them, but I wasn’t and mines didn’t. I knew it was just about sex. I wasn’t his type. I wasn’t right for him. I’d never be his girl….and yet as the doors opened to my floor, I couldn’t wait till the next time I could fall asleep beside him and hate myself for it the next day.

*snow = cocaine

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