#big sad i worked so hard on my sites

[biigscene-a]

so turns out my sites page isn't working ?? unsure why so until then i'm gonna have this post with my muse list and i'll add a list to my pinned post as well. i'm gonna work on it right now , but in the meantime if you have any questions about any muses feel free to ask.

roster : sidney prescott - scream - adelaide kane amber freeman - scream - mikey madison ethan bailey - scream - jack champion tatum riley - scream - emily alyn lind tommy slater - fear street - fc tbd joan green - fear street - kristine froseth kate schmidt - fear street - julia rehwald billy hargrove - stranger things - dacre montgomery shauna shipman - yellowjackets - sophie nélisse jackie taylor - yellowjackets - ella purnell

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[gabbytbll]

SYLUS HEADCANONS Pt 2

SFW! AND NSFW!!!!

Part 1 masterlist 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

Love and deep space💫

Authors note: it's definitely not gonna be as good since I can't find my computer😭 so I'm stuck with my phone and I'm very limited so I hope you like it!!!! Also sylus is going to be OOC!

MDNIII!!!!!

Warnings!!:Spit kink, Cockring, Cock warming, possessive sylus!!, passing out, Chains, Wax play, Anal Penetration, Teasing, Big dick sylus!!, Dick piercing, Sex toys, P in V, Voyeurism, Eye contact, Gagging, Breath play, Humiliation.

SFW!

• He loves to take you to the gym to show off his muscles and abilities.

• He loves to randomly show up to your work with some food or just to randomly pick you up and take you home (even tho you can he insist).

• He's the type of guy that threatens your boss for over working you!

• He loves to just be around you even while he's doing his work, or just sitting there and staring at you!

• He hates when you and the twins plot a prank against him he thinks it's childish (but he loves it).

•He thinks it's funny when you get scared of a bug but he still kills it for you while giggling like a child.

•He does not get along with your coworkers, he thinks they are weak and do not deserve your time!

•He likes to think he owns you because you do everything with him and I mean everything.

•He buys you everything even tho you might not like it, you tell him something looks nice and next thing you know it's yours!

• He buys you a bike like his, even tho you don't know how to drive it or if you do know how to drive it he will still have so much fun!

NSFW AHEAD!!! MDNIII!!

Sexual content be advised

NSFW

°When the both of you are having intercourse he loves to grab your face and make your mouth open so he can spit on you or in your mouth.

°He loves to tie chains around your hands to make it more spicy in bed (plus he thinks it's better than hand cuffs because he can grab a hold of it better to pull you back on his dick!)

° He has the ball gag next to his bed in his drawer(which you didn't know about) he randomly puts it on you when your being too much of a brat!

°He loves how you sound as you have the ball gag in your mouth he likes to think it looks cute on you!

°Sometimes when he's feeling more freaky then usual he will let a candle burn on the nightstand to use it on you.

°He loves watching the wax roll down your chest or your thighs,stomach,etc he thinks it's hot.

°He likes when you try to make him submit(aka putting a Cock ring on him) he uses it against you in ways you didnt expect.

°He will make you cock warm him if you put a cock ring on him in his mind he thinks if I suffer then you suffer, he loves how you get desperate for him to move.

°Since he loves to randomly surprise you by showing up where ever you are he has caught you masturbating multiple times so he just sits there watching you unnoticed while hard.

°He never had a dick piercing but he heard you talking about it with one of your friends and saying how pleasing it might be, the next day he got a frenum piercing (but he was sad he couldn't have sex with you for a while to let it heal)

°While he's fucking you he loves to choke you hard enough to where your face gets red while he makes you stare into his eyes (he does this rarely just when he's in a bad mood and needs to let off steam).

°He left a vibrator in your pussy when you and him tried anal for the first time to make it more pleasant for you!

°He likes to call you names in bed like slut,whore,my fuck toy,etc.

°When he's about to fuck you, he loves to tease you by slowly pushing his tip in your pussy and just pull out when you make a sound.

°One time after you and sylus had 5 rounds you passed out in the middle of him fucking you because it was to much for you to handle.

Well I hope you like it! I kinda rushed it to

But please give feedback and make sure you like and comment I appreciate it!!💫

©️ gabbytbll. do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.

[gagaewo]

BIG FLIRT | BIG JERK ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Synopsis: 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒙𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

cw: AFAB in mind, crack, fluff fluff fluff, suggestiveness, teasing, pet names (babe, baby, cutie), he can be a jerk when he wants to be, drug use (Mary Jane only once), masturbation (m), virginity loss, p in the v (wrap it before u tap it), squirting mention, oral sex (f), aftercare always a must!

wc: 1.9k

a\n: I'm supposed to finish choso x bimbo!reader, but instead I got side track and decided to write this to boost my brain up ^^. I'm very rusty so I apologize if it's not good, I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY :D!

inspiration: big flirt by lil hero

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI!

❀𝑺𝑭𝑾❀

Boyfriend!Satoru - is infatuated in everything about you; and when he means everything, he means everything! Heart-shaped eyes seeing you, however, state you're in. He's obsessed with the way you smell, look, feel, and taste. Makes sure you know you're the most beautiful thing his six-eyes laid on.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who enjoys seeing you become flustered when he gives you surprise kisses on your face. He'd grab you by your waist, shoulders, hands, neck (his favorite part to wrap his hands around), and give you a sweet 'smack'!The way you shy your face away afterward always boosts his ego just a little.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who's on top of you when you wake up most mornings. His body weight crushes you in, so you can't escape :P. Other times, he's behind you; muscular arms wrapped around your mid-section tightly, breath tickling your ear when he lets out soft snores. Snuggled in so nicely he never ever wants to leave, and gets whiny when you do try to leave his grasp.

Boyfriend!Satoru - Buys you an expensive gift anytime you accomplish a big goal! Got a raise at your current job? Congratulations he just bought you a fucking Lamborghini. Didn't like the model? Oh, it's okay he'll just buy you another Lambo, but the newest model (the one that's not even out yet), you quite literally can not deny such a gift either. It's not just cars he'll get you. No- it depends on the last thing you look at on shopping sites, and he'll immediately buy everything in your wishlist/cart. Why? Because you work so hard to accomplish your goals he just HAS to do something for you!

Boyfriend!Satoru - who accidentally got you high because Suguru brought him edible brownies. You also have a sweet tooth like Satoru - so you decided to try some! Which left you laying on the couch and staring at the ceiling for two hours. Satoru silently freaking out; giving you your third cup of water now. How many grams were in the brownies, you ask? 1000 MG. Safe to say you slept for a good 14 hours after that incident.

Boyfriend!Satoru - Play fights with you when you're in a low mood, hoping it will work to take your mind off the small stuff. With his great strength he can easily pick you up and gently slam you down into the ground, couch, or the bed; one thing he always does is place his large hand on the back of your head just incase he miscalculated, so you won't seriously get hurt ^^.

However, when you do get mad at him, he has a difficult time trying to understand your feelings. Sometimes, trying to be 'funny' when you're talking to him about something serious doesn't always work. So, Boyfriend!Satoru - who would do anything for you - buys you bouquets and bouquets of your favorite flowers (mixed with blue flowers that match his eyes), with the most adorable sad look in his eyes as he confronts you with a soft tone that he's sorry. Of course, you forgive him.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who really knows how to piss you off on purpose, even though he meant no harm; he just can't help but want to see the way you glare at him again. You know how he's a striking 6'3 "man? Of course, you're going to be shorter than him, and he takes advantage of it! Wondering where the cookie jar suddenly went? Oh, it's on top of the fridge. Pushed all the way in the corner back. Now you're going to need a stepping stool, or you're climbing onto the counters.

"Satoru! Stop messing with the cookies!"

"You know, it's getting pretty boring hearing you blame me for misplacing things~"

"You fucker you pushed it too far!"

"Did not!"

Sat on the couch comfortably, his eyes watched the way you stood on your tippy toes, your arm's reaching at the top of the white fridge- palm out trying to reach the cookies. He bit back a chuckle watching you struggle, but he admired the view anyway. The shirt you wore just slightly - your panties now in his view. Standing up swiftly, Satoru amble his way over with a growing smirk on his lips.

Letting out a huff, you cursed silently. You turn around to go find the stepping stool - only to be blocked by Satoru. His sweet cologne filled your senses. His hand - rather bigger hands than yours - gently placed onto your shoulder softly massages your muscle.

"Here baby, let me get it for you."

Brows furrowed, a smack echoed in the kitchen when you slap his hand away. "Why do this on purpose?"

Not bothered by the stinging sensation, His glossy lips pulled into a smirk. "Do you know why my sweetie?" He spoke in a sickly sweet tone.

His other hand, palmes your blood filled cheeks, caressing softly with the pad of his thumb. Face scrunched up, your cheeks hot, feeling more irritated. "Because you like pissing me off."

Hearing your grumbled response, he adjusted both of his hands, placing his palms on your cheeks, and then lightly mushed them. Letting out a deep sigh, his eyes dart everywhere on your face; observing the way your eyebrows still furrowed and your eyes glaring at his.

Grinning now, he leaned down, pressing a sloppy butterfly kiss on the bridge of your nose; earning a soft annoyed grunt from you.

"Forgive me for my little stunt, and I'll give you your cookies back."

You scoff, now avoiding eye contact with the blue eyed-sorcerer. You bring his hand closer to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. "I suddenly don't want my cookies anymore-"

Removing his hands from your grasp, he kneels down, wrapping his arms around your thighs before lifting you up. A shirek escaped your throat as your view of the kitchen looked higher. You were now leveled with the cookies. You didn't understand why he couldn't just grab it himself for you. But, alas, he loves showing off his strength to you.

"Get the cookies baby, I know you want them~"

♡︎𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾♡︎

Boyfriend!Satoru -, who loves to grope you anytime he can. His large hands on your body, anytime of the day - just grabbing at your sides, breast, ass, and thighs. (Pouts anytime you'd pull away cause the mf pulls that shit in public, too :P)

"Dont reject my love! I just want to hold you, baby~"

"Satoru, please, we're in the middle of the store, and people are looking!"

"They can stare i dont care- OOH, can we get some mochi ice cream?"

Boyfriend!Satoru - who was your first, who took your virginity sweetly. Who made sure you were comfortable in his king-size bed, his hand in yours interlinked softy; slowly rolling his hips into yours. Kissing any tears away, he'd stay still for a moment waiting for your 'okay'. Your pleasure will always come first before his.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who gets sexually frustrated when he isn't inside you for a day. Ever since you guys took it to the next level, he's been HOOKED and swears he'll never get enough of you. You underneath him or on your knees plays in his mind 50% of the time, the other 50% is your eyes and smile.

Boyfriend!Satoru - fists his cock thinking about you, letting out sweet groans into the echoed bedroom just thinking about you. He never felt so starved from your touch before till now, when you're busy or at your own place - he figures his dirty thoughts to himself. But that doesn't stop him from sending you pictures, videos, or whimper audios if you so ask nicely.

Boyfriend!Satoru - whose favorite position with you is probone. Addicted to the way you feel beneath him, he seriously couldn't get enough. The way your pussy clutched against his pretty dick so tightly when he hit that sweet spot always made his eyes roll into his head.

"Mmhmfm~...f-uck Satoru~"

"Shhhh just take it baby, yeah don't even worry I got you-"

Your hands clutching his white bed sheets, knuckles turning white as you moaned out. Your mouth in a 'O', panting just slightly; his cock so deep in you you felt it all. You felt the way he glided in and out of you at a settle but fast pace. A sudden whimper left your mouth when he'd suddenly quicken his pace up. Letting go of the bed sheet with one hand, it went flying to your mouth, letting it muffle your pornographic whines. Face burning up, you felt so hot.

Oh but Satoru didn't like that. He loved hearing every sound coming from your mouth, he lived on it as it was his oxygen. Leaning onto one arm, his now free hand swiftly- snatching your hand from your mouth. He then pinned that arm against your back, grip tight as he tuts, "Nuh-uh, none of that baby I wanna hear you."

Boyfriend!Satoru - makes you squirt at least 2 times before penitrating. It was a rule he settled (in his head, at least), so it would help you take him in better. And it did work, arguably working a little too good, because after that, he gets to savor in your fucked-out face. You wouldn't shy away as much anymore and let everything out.

Boyfriend!Satoru - who has denied your orgasm 4 times in a hour, to be fair he thought you deserved it. You were pressing your breast all in Suguru's face, after all. This was the outcome every time you pulled petty shit.

"Please please please Toru, lemme cum please im sorry~!"

"You're so sorry? Hah, what if I get Suguru in here and watch you cum on my tongue like a bitch in heat huh? You like him don't you?"

Practically sobbing, you shake your head, trying not to fumble on your words. Mascara running down your face with your salty tears, "N-No no I like you~ nngh please lemme cum!"

Slurping up his own saliva on your pussy, he gives it a slight slap before pressing two fingers inside your walls immediately. "You wait till im done playing with you. Got it?"

Boyfriend!Satoru - after a good fuck session he always treats you well. Pampering you with kisses and praises, making sure you were alright and he didn't go too far.

A kiss there and another kiss there, he litters your face with his soft kisses. You laid there, sweaty, hot and sore. Your muscles ached, making you hiss when you tried to sit up. Satoru who immediately took notice of your discomfort, gently pressed you down back on the bed.

"I'm sorry cutie I should've went easy on you."

You shook your head, a small smile appeared on your features. "I'm okay toru." You inhaled a deep breath, letting it out shortly after. Your mind was at peace but feeling a little worn out, you really could use a nap.

Pressing another kiss to your cheek, he got up from the bed with a small grunt. Aiming towards the bathroom to grab a wash cloth, not wanting you to nap in your mixed cum.

Coming back a couple seconds later with a pep in his step, he climbed back on the bed. The warm wash cloth startling you a little, than slowly you relaxed in his touch.

"Just relax baby, let Satoru clean you up, then you can rest, yeah?" He let out a breathy chuckle, taking in your post-orgasm glow.

Subtly nodding you let out a hum in acknowledgment, feeling yourself slipping into unconsciousness you then spoke in a soft tone, "Love you."

The warm wash cloth smoothly glided over your skin, wiping the cum off your pussy with caution. A soft giggle erupt in the room that came from you. Smiling softly at your laughter he sighed heavily, tiredness and in admiration of you. "I love you too."

do not repost on any other sites/claim my work as yours.

Copyright @gagaewo !!

[oofouchstovehot]

I know everyone gets very sad about ao3 going down and not being able to reach their daily fanfic quota but can we just

Like

Appreciate the people who work on Ao3?

They’re running this massive site with millions on millions of entries that each contain about to millions of millions of words and tags and languages and comments and that’s so much information and even then everyone has their own personal accounts and bookmarks and series and and yet even back when I had an itty bitty iPod the only time the site was ever slow or wonky was Wi-Fi issues on my end??? Like??? They’re magical??? Idk ao3 peeps run their site so well and we don’t ever appreciate them, they’re probably sad about their site being down too but instead of keeping it up they turn it off just a little bit for the sake of keeping it as smooth as it always has been and it’s awesome that such a big site only gets little bumps and errors every couple months and only needs a few hours to be perfect again.

Just

The mods??? The admins?? Other computers working people who work so hard to get us our fluff and our angst and our smut???

[party-hearses]

relax, baby | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI

wordcount: 5k

summary: joel is full of surprises at work.

series warnings/tags: pwp, explicit smut, v fingering, brief oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, pet names (princess, baby), language, no cordyceps outbreak, lmk if i’m forgetting anything. honestly, this is just filth.

author's note: i wrote this instead of doing homework. my smut abilities are a little rusty, so here’s my attempt at getting them working again. feedback and reblogs are appreciated if you enjoy! <3

“‘Sposed to be a scorcher today.”

“‘Sposed to be a scorcher every fucking day,” you mumble into the receipt book splayed open in front of you.

He isn’t wrong, of course. Just irritating. The Texas summer heat is unrelenting at best, but it’s not anything new.

“What was that, princess?”

You grimace at the nickname. Stupid fucking Joel Miller, your brother’s boss, taunting you while he rummages through the filing cabinet shoved into the corner of the room opposite you.

Your boss, now, too. Sort of.

“Nothin’.”

“S’what I thought.” He pulls his body up to its full height, having found what he was searching for. He holds the file of paperwork in his hands like a prize, slamming the drawer of the unit shut. “You’re lucky to have AC in here, princesa. Not like the rest of the guys, out there in the sun.”

You roll your eyes skyward at the jab. It hadn’t taken long for you to be branded with different variations of the nickname, which, much to your chagrin, isn’t even inventive. The names the guys call you usually revolve around your new position as “office admin” (a made up term), and the considerable comfort (if it could be called that) it offers. Low hanging fruit, in your opinion.

Your brother tells you to laugh it off, to take it as a compliment. A means of being accepted. It’s not worth the argument about power dynamics and the stigma of being a woman in a male dominated profession, especially for a temporary position, so you do your best to ignore it. It’s not like your brother would understand your points, anyway.

“You’re the boss, Joel. You don’t have to be — out there.” You wave your hand at the window, grimy with dust and…grime. Unknown construction grime. Men, you shudder.

“Oh, yeah? Guess I could just post up in here all day with you, huh?” He’s looking at you now, hands on his hips, smirk pulled across his mouth. He grips the file in his hand against his waist, strong fingers nearly crumpling it in half.

He’s irritating, but fuck, if he isn’t gorgeous. All taut muscles, graying scruff, and big, sad, brown eyes. It’s hard to keep your own eyes off him regularly, but it’s an exercise in futility the rare times you’re alone with him.

But you shrug, coolly, playing off the damning attraction you feel towards him. “I don’t care what you do, Miller.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, and he’s there, across the desk from you, palms planted face-down on the cool wood, chin dipped.

You swallow hard, meeting his smoldering eyes. It’s impossible not to notice his tee shirt, Miller Construction scrawled across the left breast, pulling against his chest and biceps. He’s so fucking big.

“You should care, sweetheart, ‘cause you run—” He leans in closer.

“—the whole—” Closer still.

“—fucking—”

You can smell the cedar and sawdust on him. The distinctly masculine scent. it makes your head swim.

“—office,” He finishes, inches away from your face.

Your eyes widen.

“I mean- uh, well, of cou-“ you stutter, but he’s laughing, pulling away.

Narrowing your eyes, you slam the receipt book shut. “Shouldn’t you be at a different site? Not here, bothering me?”

He grins, still chuckling lowly, permanently-tousled curls begging to be pulled.

“You tell me,” he says, gesturing to the now-closed notebook with his chiseled jaw. “You’re my keeper, ain’t ya?”

This fucking guy.

You blow the air out of your cheeks, exasperated.

“I am not,” you say slowly, through gritted teeth, “your keeper. I am helping you out by cleaning up your books and organizing some schedules, while I’m home for the summer. As a favor to my brother.”

He tilts his head, grin giving way to a sly smile. Saying nothing.

“Wouldn’t be working in a fucking trailer for anyone else,” you grumble pointedly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I am payin’ ya, though.”

Joel tosses the file in front of you and drags a chair from the other side of the room — other side of the trailer — to a stop in front of the desk you’re seated at. He plants himself in it, kicking his feet up on the top of the desk.

“For real?” you cry, throwing your hands above your shoulders.

He laughs. He fucking laughs.

“Take it easy, princess. If I’m the boss, and I’m kickin’ back, why are you so high strung?”

Your brow furrows, but you don’t respond.

This strange, almost playful Joel is under your skin more than usual. It might be the heat (you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it), or the clusterfuck of receipts you should be reconciling (that he gave you at the last minute) — but you suspect the annoyance comes from his newfound interest in teasing you.

You suddenly miss the silent, brooding Joel Miller. The one who left you alone to do your work.

“I’m trying to help you,” you finally spit.

“You can help me by relaxin’, darlin’.” His voice is suddenly low, a deep timbre that vibrates your bones. “Do I need to help you do that?”

His words shoot straight to your cunt.

Instinctually, you press your thighs together, squirming in your seat.

It’s been too long since you’ve been touched, since you’ve been handled properly — the only viable hook-up options in your hometown being the losers you’d gone to high school with, which made them, well…not viable options.

Your body betrays you, need building low in your belly, and of course Joel notices the way you shift in the chair.

The entire tone of the room shifts, if you’re being honest.

“Oh,” his eyes as dark as his voice now, “you do need my help.”

You freeze. Everything in his voice spells t-r-o-u-b-l-e.

“No,” you squeak, “I- I-“

“You, what, baby?” It’s a taunting lilt now, and you feel like every nerve ending you have is melting straight off your body. He quirks his brow at you.

Baby, baby, baby, echoing in your ears.

He raises his body out of the chair, squaring his broad shoulders, and you think your heart might stop.

Making his way around the desk, hands ghosting the edges of the worn wood, his eyes burn into yours.

“So lucky all my guys are out at other sites, baby.” He’s whispering now, dragging his knuckle across your cheek, closer than he’s ever been to you. Looking down at you from his towering height. “So I can help you relax.”

There are stars in your eyes. You don’t even like this man, but his hands on you feel so good.

It’s surreal. You’re just a deer caught in the headlights, looking up at him with your big doe-eyes.

Prey.

You’re sure he’ll pull away again, laugh at you — laugh at the way your pulse picks up under his touch. How it beats against your skin like a bass drum.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he twists his wrist to cup your jaw, strong fingers digging into your flesh. Your lips part involuntarily, a quiet moan escaping.

“Wanna fuck you, princess.” His words are sticky honey in your ears, the nickname hot on his tongue. “Been wantin’ to fuck you.”

All you can do is nod. You’re done for. Putty in his hands, now.

“Can I do that? Fuck you?” He drops to a crouch in front of you, sliding his hand down your flushed skin to your throat, angling his fingers, the delicate webbing between his index finger and thumb pressed right to the base of your neck. He squeezes so so so gently — just enough to make you chase his touch.

“Yes.”

His eyes are black, pupils blown out in arousal. “You’ll be good for me?”

“I’ll be good for you,” you repeat obediently. Quietly. Only for him.

It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of the words leaving your mouth.

He crashes his mouth into yours, taking, taking, taking. Massaging your bottom lip with his scorching tongue, he begs for entrance — and you know in this moment, you will never deny him a single thing.

He licks into you with such a feverish intensity that you have to throw your arms around his shoulders just to remain steady. This action seems to spur him on, as he slides both his hands around your hips, one pulling you closer to him while the other crawls up to cradle the base of your skull, fingers threaded into your hair. He’s crouched over you entirely, nearly dragging you off the office chair. Your own fingers dig into the shoulders of his shirt, his thick muscles dragging you closer and closer to him.

Small in his hands, he breaks his mouth from yours only to haul you up and around, pressing your belly against the desk, your arms jelly as they brace against the sturdiness of the wood. He pulls your shirt up and over your shoulders from the back, peppering kissing up the exposed flesh of your spine, before discarding the garment on the floor. Your bra is next, and he wastes no time in chucking it too, to the floor and using his big hands to cup your pert tits from behind. His whole body is pressed against yours, the buckle of his belt scraping against the small of your back.

“Knew you’d have perfect tits,” he growls, next to your ear. His fingers expertly roll your nipples, massaging them into tight points. It makes you want to cry out. He licks a broad stripe up your throat, nipping the skin just above your shoulder, and this time, you do cry out.

“Be loud for me, baby. Wanna make you feel good.”

“What if s-someone hea-“ you start nervously, your voice shaking as much as your limbs.

Bracing his mouth against yours again, tongue forcing its way in to explore every inch, he cuts off the question you were going to ask.

Ignores the question.

He moves his mouth down your neck again, fingers still kneading against your nipples. Your eyes flick to the deadbolt of the door anxiously, but an extra-hard pinch pulls your focus back as you moan involuntarily. Loudly.

Obviously enjoying himself, he drops one hand to your tummy, sliding it over your soft skin to the band of your shorts.

“Gonna take these off now, okay, baby?” he asks between kisses and nips against your flesh, peppered with goosebumps.

You nod hurriedly. Need thrums in your ears, washes everything except his voice out.

His hand still cupping your breast joins the other in unbuttoning your shorts, and they’re off in record time. They fall to your feet, and you kick them off haphazardly, not caring where they end up.

The only thing separating Joel from you now is your panties, black and lacy and soaked.

You recognize, dismayed, that he still has all of his clothes on, but he’s too busy with his hands on you to notice.

He turns you around to face him, stepping back just enough to rake his eyes over every inch of you. You steady yourself on the edge of the desk with your hands, the hard corner biting into the soft flesh of the backs of your thighs.

“Fu-u-u-ck.” He lets out a low whistle, and for a brief second, you want to cover your body with your arms, slink away shyly.

But he has his hand cupped around your sex lightning fast, and he groans, low and primal.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, baby. Soakin’ through your panties.”

He ducks against your neck again, landing kisses down the length of it, but going further this time, down your breast to take your nipple into his mouth. He suckles gently, hand moving back and forth over the white heat of your cunt, and you arch your back against him. Your body filled with a furious tension, tight as a bowstring.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Take y-your shirt off,” you demand suddenly, your hands scrambling for purchase on the the scratchy material.

He pulls back from you, and you’re left panting, three quarters naked. Nipples impossibly hard from both his mouth and the air conditioning, and you can tell he’s inconvenienced to be pulled away from them.

But he acquiesces, shucking his shirt off quickly, desperate to lave his tongue over your flesh again.

You take him in in the entirety that he’s allowed you — strong but soft, body molded by years of manual labor, rough hands desperate to be stroking you.

Not allowing you too much time, he resumes his stance in a hurry, splaying his hands across your back, nibbling lightly at the supple flesh of your breasts. He runs his tongue over the heavy curve of it, before dragging it across the plane of your chest to the opposite side, taking your other nipple into the heat of his mouth.

Keening under his touch, you mewl his name. Desperate.

“I know, baby. I know.” It’s muffled against the weight of your breast. His teeth just grazing the tender flesh.

He brings one hand around to the front of your panties again, teasing the band stretched over the place your thigh meets your pelvis with his calloused fingertips. The bite of them scrape a heavenly sting against your softness.

You rock your hips up into his palm, begging. Please, please, please. He chuckles lowly against your skin, still biting gently at your nipple, your knuckles white on the edge of the desk.

He breaks his mouth off of you, looking up to meet your eyes through his long, dark lashes.

There’s still one of his hands steady on your back, and combined with the way he’s got himself pressed against you, you’re sure he’s the only reason you’re somewhat vertical right now. The bones in your legs threaten to give out the more attention he pays your body. He ruts his erect length against your thigh.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?”

“Want it so bad,” you echo — his plaything.

“Should’ve asked me a long time ago. Teasin’ me constantly. Makin’ me fuck my fist at night like a teenage boy.” He straightens his body, allowing his thumb to dance over your clit through the material of your panties, but refusing to make direct contact. Making you chase the feeling with your hips.

The notion that he’s ever thought of you in that way makes your cunt tingle.

“Need it, Joel.”

You don’t have the words to tell him how long you’ve thought about him, how even though he pisses you off, you’ve wanted him to fuck you over this very desk since you started working for him. How it’s been too long since you’ve been touched and now you think you’re ruined in the most delectable way.

With a dark smile against your skin, he finally moves his hand over just enough, sliding four fingers down the front of your panties, thumb still on the outside, and fists the thin material. It rips down the seams, and in one smooth motion, he pulls the ruined lace from your body.

You gasp, cold air hitting your cunt.

He takes the destroyed scrap of material and palms his hard cock through his jeans, rubbing the lace against the front of himself. It’s obscene, and you can’t take your eyes off it.

Fighting to catch your breath, overwhelmed by his touch, you watch as he pulls back to shove what used to be your panties in his front pocket before unbuckling his belt, snapping it quickly out of the loops, hands flying then to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He finally shoves them down to knees, the length of them bunching up over his work boots.

Left in his boxers, you can see the thick outline of his cock, and he’s huge.

You had expected him to be big — like, look at him — but it’s more than you could have fathomed.

Your eyes drag from the heavy bulge back up to his face, and he must clock the apprehension in your eyes, because he extends his hand to your cheek, cupping it tenderly.

“Promise I’ll make it feel good. Won’t put it in until you’re ready.”

His hands are large enough over your face that his thumb traces the outline of your parted lips. Without thinking, you open further to accept it inside, swirling your scorching tongue around the digit.

His eyes darken further, though you didn’t know it possible.

“Oh, baby. Baby.”

His head falls back, jaw slack, enjoying the sensation of your mouth on him.

With his other hand, he slides his fingers through your swollen, dripping folds, gathering your slick on the rough tips. He circles your hole with his middle finger, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing, needing.

“This okay?” he asks quietly, and you pause, meeting his gaze with your own. As calm and collected as he looks, his voice shakes just enough to tell you that he’s rehearsed this scene in his head so many times.

You don’t really know how you got here, if you’re being honest, but…

“Want you so bad, Joel,” you whisper, thoughts hazy, pupils blown out.

“Gonna fuck you ‘til all you can say is my name,” he whispers back gruffly.

It makes your cunt clench, his finger still poised there. Your chest rises and falls with ragged breath, anticipating. You can’t imagine how fucked-out you look right now, but based on the way he’s drinking you in, he loves it.

He finally presses his single finger inside of you, groaning at the warmth.

“So tight for me, princesa.”

The nickname hits differently this time — intimate. Filthy. Filling you with desperation.

You cry out at the stretch, his hands so much bigger than your own. One finger of his is the size of two of yours, and you’ve never felt so full. You snake your arms around his shoulders, letting him hold you up, his other hand falling from your cheek to resume it’s place at the small of your back, as he slowly starts a rhythm of fucking into you. His palm stutters against your clit, and you can feel your slick dripping down onto it.

It’s so much.

Your senses are overloaded with him, and he hasn’t even put his cock in you, yet.

He does, however, nudge a second finger at your entrance, and it’s enough to make you drop your forehead onto his broad shoulder, his muscles rippling as his wrist and fingers move against you.

You press your open mouth into his shoulder, muffling your cries.

Sliding his ring finger in beside the other, he scissors them, stretching you open, open, open, while at the same time he performs a much more precise ministration on your clit, rubbing small circles that make you squeeze your eyes shut. Chests pressed flush against one another, he buries his face in the length of your hair.

Despite the air conditioner, the room is humid with body heat, and sweat starts to collect at your temples. Every inch of your skin is flushed, Joel breathing heavily next to your ear.

“Want you to come for me, baby. Can’t fuck you right ‘til you come for me.”

You lean further into his body, under the trance of the rhythm of his fingers. He drags his free hand up the length of your back to wrap around your hair, gently pulling your head back to look into your eyes.

“uh-uh, baby. Wanna see you. Don’t hide.”

Your cheeks flush crimson, your eyes half-lidded, lips kiss-swollen. Seeing the way he studies you, the tip of his tongue resting on the pillow of his top lip, his fingers so big inside of you — your orgasm approaches quickly, your hips working with his hand to get you there.

Your breathing starts to stutter, and his eyes are on fire watching you. Memorizing every movement you make, how he’s taken you apart at the seams. He speeds up the movement of his thumb, just slightly, but it’s enough to tip you over the edge.

Convulsing around his thick fingers, you cry out, loud, loud, loud. The deadbolt on the door a distant memory.

In fact, you dare someone to walk in. To fuck with Joel Miller taking what he needs from you. They’d never recover.

“Yes, baby. Look so fuckin’ beautiful coming all over my fingers,” he growls, fucking you through the electric waves rolling through your body, tugging your hair harder.

He’s kissing you again, swallowing your remaining moans into his mouth, and you feel like you’ll never recover. You may never walk again — and it’s just his fingers.

Sliding his fingers out of your pulsing pussy, he drags them over to your hip, your own slick smeared across your abdomen. He drops his other hand to your other hip, and before you know what’s happening, he’s lifting you up on top of the desk. On top of the files, and receipts, and work you’d just been doing.

If he doesn’t care, then neither do you.

Obediently leaning back on your elbows, he sets you far enough back that he can hook his hands under your knees to pull them closer to you, your tennis shoes dangling between you. It makes you giggle, which makes him smirk.

But it’s only a second before he’s pushing your knees back again, opening you up to him. His eyes drop to your glistening pussy, pink and swollen from his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. Don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ to see this little pussy,” he hisses, before dropping his head to lick a hot stripe up your wet center.

“Holy shit, Joel,” you breathe, “that feels so good.”

He licks his lips, your sweetness shiny on his beard. “Next time I’ll make you come with just my mouth, baby. Need’ta fuck you, now.” His voice is low, but the promise of next time wraps itself around your chest and squeezes.

You bite your lip, nodding, watching him through your lashes.

He gently sets your legs down enough that your feet drop to the top of the desk, but he keeps one hand on your thigh to keep you open for him — exposed.

“Won’t ever get tired of lookin’ at that pussy, baby,” he coos, “so keep it open for me.”

You’ve never been talked to this way before, and it sets your skin alight. Never been handled this way before.

You’re so fucked.

With his free hand he shoves his boxers down, his hard cock bobbing back up against the dark hair trailing below his bellybutton with a wet thwack. All of the blood you have left in your body rushes to your cunt (you’re sure most of it was there already), and your mouth pops open involuntarily.

You know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. He’s so. fucking. big.

“Will it…um, will-“ you stammer, gaze dragging up his body to his face.

He crowds you, a deep hunger in his eyes, hard cock in his fist. Poised at your entrance, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Know you can take it, baby,” he growls.

“Okay,” you whimper, warmth blooming across your chest.

He slides his empty hand under your thigh, caressing the skin gently — a stark contrast from the way he’s gripping his cock with his other hand. It feels reassuring, almost tender.

“Ready?”

You mewl, scooting your ass an inch or so forward to egg him on. He grips your thigh, his large hand spreading all the way beneath it.

He presses into you slowly — excruciatingly slowly — but it’s enough to make you drop your head back and whine at the delicious stretch. He keeps his hand at the base of his cock, and you’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his.

His eyes are glued to where he’s breached your entrance, watching you stretch to accommodate his girth, and it takes his breath away.

“Fuck, princess. So tight. So fuckin’ perfect for me,” he grunts, but it’s gentle, as if he’s in awe of you.

The sting of it gives way to furious pleasure, and you want him to move faster as he gives you more of himself.

“Joel,” you whisper, face to the ceiling, “faster, please.”

He grunts again, but feeds more of his cock into your hole, sliding his palm around the curve of your thigh to rub your clit. It send electric shocks through your limbs, your pussy clenching around him at the sudden pleasure radiating from your center.

Your knees are still pressed into your chest, folded practically in half, and he keeps going, and going, and going, until his pelvis is pressed flush to yours, bottoming out inside of you.

He stills, breathing ragged, to grip your jaw and bring your head down, saying through clenched teeth, “Lookit, baby. Lookit that. You took all’f me. The whole fuckin’ thing. I want you t’see.”

Your eyes, half-lidded, gaze at where he disappears into you, your aching lips strained against him.

“Made for me,” he says, and you can tell how much he’s restraining himself by the way he ticks his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut.

Thinking about anything but how fucking good your pussy feels wrapped around him.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, “Joel, please.” You lift both your feet off the desk, wrapping them around his waist in an effort to pull him in closer — to make him move faster.

“Baby,” it’s his turn to drop his head back, snarling at your tightness. But he gives you what you need, rocking his hips into you finally.

Pleasure swirls in your core, and you know it won’t take long. He’s still rubbing your clit, but the movements are erratic and messy, his focus on how good you feel on him. His other hand inches up your side, grabbing at your breast, anchoring himself to you while the bottom half of his body thrusts in and out of you expertly.

You’re both dewy with sweat, and as you’re lost in the way he moves against you, feeling the tip of him bumping up into the furthest depths of you, he leans forward and licks up a stray bead of perspiration rolling down your neck.

The eroticism of it makes your whole body shudder, and he gasps at the way your body reacts to him.

“Not gonna last long, princess. Feels too good,” he manages to spit out, subconsciously increasing his speed drilling into you. He can’t believe he has you open so wide, taking all of him.

He knew the moment he saw you that you were made to take his cock.

“Gonna come, Joel.”

“Come for me, baby. Gimme one more,” he encourages huskily, opening his eyes to watch you raise your hips to meet his every thrust.

Knowing that he’s watching you drags you higher and higher until the tension of your body snaps, soaking his abdomen with your release.

His hips stutter against you, and he stills as your cunt tightens even more around him, your walls fluttering against every inch of him. His thumb, still grazing your clit, presses into it firmly, making your toes curl.

“Joel,” you drag his name out in a harsh whisper, fireworks bursting behind your eyes. It’s never been like this. You can’t go back to it not being like this.

He’s right — it doesn’t take long, you whimpering his name pushing him past the point of no return, and he spills inside of you, his cock pumping every drop he has.

Your legs tighten around him, holding him in place as he slams both palms down on either side of you on the desk, a deep growl emitting from his chest. His tousled hair hangs in front of his eyes, his neck and chest flushed red.

“Fuuuuck.” He mumbles, sliding his cock out of you so, so slowly. As if he doesn’t want to pull out ever.

You release your legs just enough to let him step back, but as you go to close your legs, his spend dripping out of your stretched open pussy, he grabs your thigh and wrenches it back open.

“Waitaminute,” he grunts, and you can feel his other hand searching for something across the top of the desk, scrambling through the files and papers you had neatly stacked.

Busy trying to catch your breath, you don’t notice when he brings his phone to the front of you, opening his camera and snapping a photo of him dripping out of you.

“Joel! Ohmygod!” you giggle, as he smirks at you. Your cheeks flush deeper at the idea of him keeping that photo, of even wanting that photo, and you bat his hand away and close your legs quickly.

“I’ll delete it if’ya want,” he offers, but you both know that not what you want.

You hum teasingly.

“S’what I thought,” he says, running a gentle hand over your now-closed knees. “‘Sides, gotta keep something to remind you that you’re mine.” His hand follows the curves of your body to your tits, and he tweaks your nipple one final time.

Leaning in to kiss you, his tongue warm in your mouth, he whispers against you, “Better put your panties on, princess. Gotta keep it all inside you.” Prying your legs apart again just enough to slide his palm through them, he cups your sex with his large hand.

“You tore ‘em to pieces,” you whisper back, a dark smile on your lips. “Pretty sure what’s left of them is in the pocket of your jeans.”

“Mmm, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to fill you up again and find a way to make sure you can keep it in.”

Electricity shoots through you, and you miss his hand as soon as he pulls it away to drag his boxers and jeans up.

You drop your legs, despite how much they’re shaking, and pick up your clothes scattered across the room. Once you’re dressed (as much as you can be without panties), you stretch up on your tiptoes to kiss him again, while he does what he can to tame his hair with his fingers. It makes you laugh, and he matches it warmly. He kisses you again and again.

“Why don’t you, uh, take the rest of the day off? Done plenty of work here. I can clean up,” he smirks at you, nodding his head to the messy desk, where you’re pretty sure some of his cum had slipped out.

“Gee, thanks, boss. Can’t wait to get back to it Monday.” You wink at him, pulling your body away and picking your bag up from the coat rack next to the door. Hand on the doorknob, you glance back at him, a smirk of your own on your face.

“Oh, and because you didn’t ask — I am on birth control.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but you laugh and close the door behind you, headed home.

You don’t even know how fucked you are, yet.

[lov3-lik3-ghosts]

Hello can I request a jasper hale x reader where reader has a vary hard time with emotions and feels numb most of the time basically atpd (anti social personality disorder) I wanna know how he would react to it because of his gift

That's all have a good day (:

ASPD vs. Jasper’s Gift

Pairing: Jasper Hale x reader.

Summary: Platonic hc’s for aspd!reader and Jasper.

Warnings: Not beta nor proofread. Possible misrepresentation!!!

Format: Headcanon’s.

Word count: 275.

Authors note: Hiii, thank you for requesting, I’m so sorry for the long wait. I tried my best to create an accurate representation of ASPD but Google can only tell me so much. My apologies for any misrepresentation! Have a good day too :)

| mother m-list

• Jasper struggles with the lack of emotion you feel. He’s so used to being able to feel the emotions of those around him that you’re like a too deep breath of air.

• He learns how to pick up on the things that even you might not. Like changes in your expression or slight inflictions of your mood.

• He actually manages to make a small game of sending you flushes of happiness, sometimes you’re receptive and others you just glare at him.

• If you had a lack of respect towards others, he’d struggle to be around you as often. He was raised in the south and respect tends to be a big thing there.

• He loves that there’s no fear in you when you find out that they’re cold ones, it lifts a huge weight off his chest.

• He loves it a little less when your mind instantly goes to all the chaos you could cause with him because of it.

• He’s a little confused at what you feel when you find out they’re ‘vegetarians’. It’s somehow an influx of everything and nothing all at once.

• He’s actually quite sad when he realises he doesn’t often feel good emotions emit from you. He usually doesn’t like feeling any emotions at all, he feels almost like he’s being deceitful.

• He’s great at soothing any rage you feel but not so great at stopping you from being chaotic, (Emmett’s usually there to help you with the chaos (he joins in)).

• He’d never thought about you not feeling caring emotions towards him until you actually felt them (you were nearly knocked over by the reciprocation he sent your way).

~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~

Likes, comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated and very encouraging!

I do not give my permission for my work to be translated or reposted on this site or otherwise!

[warping-realities]

Bed and Breakfast (Repost)

"I can't believe you're gonna make me stay in a dump like that," said the gorgeous woman with an arrogant tone towards her boyfriend, not realizing the owner of the cozy little beach inn was eavesdropping.

"Babe, chill out, the place is actually pretty dope and seems super comfy. Plus, it’s got killer reviews on travel sites. We’ll be lucky if there’s even a spot for us here."

"We wouldn’t have to deal with this crap if you had booked a hotel ahead of time."

"Laura, sweetheart, you picked a trendy spot last minute during peak season; there’s no way we’d find a room, and yet you insisted on coming."

"Of course, all the big shots are here. What do you think my followers would say if I didn't show up? An influencer’s gotta stay on top of all the trends, Jeremy, and this is the hot spot right now—God only knows why," Laura shot back, making her boyfriend sigh before being interrupted by a cheerful and upbeat voice.

"Good evening! I’m Cintia, the owner of Cozy Cabin. Welcome! How can I help you?"

"Good evening, ma’am. I’m Jeremy Grant, and this is my fiancée, Laura. We’re looking for a place to crash."

"Oh no! I’m sorry, but we’re all booked up. Reservations have been closed for over two months; we’ve become super popular lately." The woman, who seemed to be of an age that was hard to pin down, responded. Though she showed signs of age, she had a vibe of joy and youth around her, at that moment tainted by genuine sadness at not being able to help. That turned into indignation and anger when the pretty blonde in front of her let out a dismissive giggle followed by a sharp jab at her fiancé. But before Cintia could say anything, Jeremy quickly jumped in.

"Isn’t there even the slightest chance, Cintia? It would just be for one night so Laura can snap some pics and post them; she’s a digital influencer."

"Really? I’ve never heard of you, darling," Cintia said, taking the moment to get back at the rude young woman, who couldn’t help but fire back.

"I work with a younger crowd; it's understandable if someone your age doesn’t know me," Laura replied, making Jeremy cringe and a dangerous glint appear in Cintia’s eyes.

"Ah, trust me, I know how to spot a real influencer with clout. Right now, we’ve got Miguel Ramos, the famous fitness influencer, crashing here; it’s his fifth year visiting us during this time. Which gives me an awesome idea to help you out. If you’ll excuse me for a sec, I’ll be back with some info."

"Stupid hag," Laura muttered bitterly as soon as Cintia left the room.

"Baby, you kinda poked the bear..."

"Don’t you dare take her side, Jeremy. How could she compare me to that fairy Miguel Ramos?"

"Laura, watch your mouth. I’ve heard a lot about Miguel Ramos; he was a respected personal trainer before he blew up as a fitness influencer and has a solid follower base."

That was a huge understatement, and they both knew it. While Laura’s follower count hadn’t even hit the hundreds of thousands mark, Miguel’s had already smashed through the million barrier. And obviously, the vain woman didn’t like being reminded of that and soon found a reason to roast her fiancé.

"Jeremy, that scruff of yours looks awful! How many times have I told you to keep your face smooth? My followers prefer you to match my look!"

Jeremy didn’t know if that was true; Laura’s followers really did hype up how well they matched in appearance. But he couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that Laura dressed him in similar styles to hers, combined with her nagging to keep his face smooth and his blond hair styled in neat curls, made them look so much alike that some people thought they were siblings instead of a couple. It was proof enough of a totally narcissistic nature, as the class bullies loved to shout. But every time those thoughts popped up, Jeremy quickly shoved them aside; he had long accepted that he’d be nobody without his girlfriend, to the point of giving up his career as a gym teacher to follow her, making sure all her wishes were met and canceling himself out in every way. Because he was dead sure he wasn’t worthy of her love and that no one in the world could love him like she did. It was exactly because he thought all this that when he saw Cintia return with a satisfied look on her face, he replied calmly.

"Yeah, babe, that’s the first thing I’ll do once we hit the room."

"My dears, I found a solution; it’s not perfect, but it should help for today," Cintia started with a playful grin and that spark in her eyes. "We have a few rooms with extra beds that aren’t being used, and two of our guests have kindly offered those beds to you for a couple of nights. In two days, Mrs. Goldschmitt will be heading home, and her room will be free if you want to extend your stay."

"You mean you want us to crash in separate rooms?" Laura asked, indignantly.

"It was the best I could do, dear. Of course, if that doesn’t work for you, feel free to scram and find somewhere else," Cintia replied with a frosty smile.

"No, no, that’s cool; we’ll take it!" Jeremy quickly interrupted, wanting to avoid more drama and losing the only place they found.

"Great! Follow me, then; I’ll have one of the staff take your bags to your respective rooms," Cintia said, looking genuinely pleased as she led them down a hallway and a flight of stairs to the first room. She knocked on the door, which was promptly opened by a handsome Latino man in his thirties, with muscles that popped under a fitted white t-shirt and a friendly smile on his rugged, bearded face.

"Goodnight," he said simply, his voice oozing masculinity.

"Miguel, darling! These are Jeremy and Lau..."

"You don’t need to introduce me; I’m sure Miguel knows who I am," Laura interrupted while Miguel stared at her like she was some exotic creature that had just landed in front of him.

"Laura... apparently she’s a digital influencer," Cintia continued as if she hadn’t been rudely interrupted. "Jeremy and Laura, this is Miguel Ramos, the guy we talked about earlier, who kindly agreed to give Jeremy the extra bed in his room."

"Thanks for the lovely intro, Cintia; it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Laura, and you too, Jer..." Miguel started, only to be cut off by Laura.

"I think our followers would love a collab from us."

"Um, sure, we can chat about that tomorrow, Laura. I believe you both are wiped out now, and Cintia still needs to take you to your room."

"Yeah, yeah, you’re right; we’ll sort everything out tomorrow. Shall we bounce then?" Laura wrapped up, talking to Cintia without even saying goodbye to Jeremy, who then stepped up to his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night, love; sleep tight!" he said before entering the room and watching his fiancée being led away by Cintia.

.....

"Welcome, Jeremy; unfortunately, you’ll have to take the single bed."

"Thanks, Miguel; you didn’t have to do that or pretend to know Laura."

"Ahh, I’m sorry about that, but I thought it was better; I know how sensitive some influencers can be about not being recognized. I’ve never really cared about that, but I’ve seen some awkward situations, to say the least. And about the bed, it’s just a bed; I’m not really using it, and Cintia asked me for a favor; she’s a good friend and helped me out a lot when... anyway, you’re welcome here."

"Still, you didn’t have to do any of that; thanks a ton," Jeremy replied as he prepped to crash, thinking about what Miguel had left unsaid. It was no secret that his breakup with his long-time boyfriend, a big-time film actor, had been a massive bummer, so much so that he had stayed out of the spotlight for months until he was spotted on the beach close to where they were, which is why the interest in the place had exploded. The only news was that he wouldn’t be staying in some fancy hotel but in Cintia’s cozy little inn. Laura should be stoked, Jeremy thought before dozing off; she went looking for copper and apparently struck gold.

Already lying in the single bed, Jeremy found the guts to say something else.

"Miguel, seriously, thanks a bunch; I really appreciate your kindness... but... well... I apologize in advance if Laura throws a fit about the sleeping arrangements... she’s used to getting her way, and... well... there might be some jealousy or something..."

"She doesn’t need to worry, Jeremy; I’m not into guys skinnier, smaller, and younger than me," Miguel joked, but it made Jeremy flinch.

"I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend you."

"You didn’t offend me, Jeremy; I was just messing around. You can relax in the room; as far as I’m concerned, it’s as much yours as mine. Have a good night."

…..

The morning sun streamed into the inn's bedroom, causing Jeremy to roll over in bed and wake up, rubbing his eyes, treated to a stunning sight: Miguel in just white underwear, his sculpted body on display, staring intently at the bedroom wall like he was lost in thought. At that moment, Jeremy felt something he never thought he would feel upon seeing another dude: a pang of desire, mixed with a familiar sensation in his dick that he only associated with seeing Laura’s naked beauty. His surprise was so intense that he moved abruptly, waking Miguel from his daydream.

"Good morning; sorry if I woke you; I forgot to close the curtains last night."

"No problem," Jeremy replied, hiding his erection with a pillow.

"Anyway, I’m already heading out for my morning run before breakfast."

"Oh man, I miss doing that!" Jeremy commented.

"Do you do this too?"

"Yeah, I was a physical educator just like you, but since I started following Laura... she’s not a morning person and gets all cranky when I wake her up early... anyway, I’ve been running on the treadmill while she shoots her videos at the gym."

"If you want to train with me..."

"Nah, man, thanks, but no. I’ll catch some more Z’s," Jeremy replied, still trying to hide his erection.

"Then I’ll see you later. Sweet dreams," said a fully dressed Miguel as he left the room, leaving Jeremy alone with his confusing thoughts.

…….

To say the trip had been a letdown for Laura would be a massive understatement. First, Jeremy couldn’t even make a simple reservation and had the nerve to blame her when he should’ve seen this coming. Then there was the beach itself; she had never liked the sun and sea, and just thinking about sand made her skin crawl. But unfortunately, thanks to Miguel Ramos’ star-studded divorce and his apparent bad taste, that little beach was the hot spot for the summer. Ending up in the same inn as him could be a golden opportunity, but for that, she had to deal with the arrogant old bat who owned the place, the fact that her fiancé was sleeping in the same room as that gay dude, and the annoying roommate she was sure had been chosen by the old hag just to irritate her. And it was with a look reflecting her inner bitterness that she waited for her fiancé to show up for breakfast, which only made her angrier, since she wasn’t used to waiting and stubbornly refused to call him. After all, he should know his place and duties!

It was with that sour expression that Miguel found her after taking a shower and getting dressed as quietly as possible to avoid waking the still-snoozing Jeremy. Seeing that expression made him seriously consider making a run for it from the breakfast room without being seen, especially since he hadn’t had a great first impression of Laura, which was confirmed when he checked out the kind of content she produced, with Jeremy looking more like an accessory to her outfit than an actual boyfriend, raising the suspicion that maybe the other guy was stuck in an abusive relationship like he himself had experienced until recently. But before he had time to bolt, their eyes locked, and a practiced smile crept onto her face, not quite reaching her predatory eyes. Knowing that game all too well, Miguel plastered on a smile just as fake as hers and approached her table.

"Good morning, Miguel; I hope Jeremy’s snoring wasn’t too much of a bother," Laura said, kicking off the conversation in the worst way possible and making Miguel’s smile fade.

"On the contrary, it didn’t bother me at all; Noah snored way worse," he replied, a look of irritation briefly crossing Laura’s face due to the comparison with her ex-husband. Wasn’t it enough that her boyfriend was sleeping in the same room as him?

"You’re too kind, but it’s my fiancé you’re talking about; no one knows him like I do."

"Of course, and if you’ll let me say, checking out your posts on social media it’s clear to see all your influence on him," Miguel replied, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

"Thanks. It was hard work," Laura shot back without realizing the dig hidden in his comment. "Speaking of work, when are we gonna do our collab?" she concluded.

"We’ll definitely figure something out," he replied in turn, knowing that as far as he was concerned, that was never gonna happen. "If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment now. Maybe you should check on Jeremy; when I left the room, he was out cold. It seemed to me like he hadn’t slept that well in ages." He finished with a bright, genuine smile before exiting the room, leaving a fuming Laura behind.

Although Miguel’s statement was meant to poke at Laura, it wasn’t too far from the truth. Jeremy had slept like a baby and didn’t even stir when Miguel returned to the room and got ready for breakfast. If he had woken up, he would’ve been mortified, because he ended up ripping off his pajama shirt in his sleep, and without realizing it, he reached for his erection that had returned with Miguel’s presence in the room, while his mind filled with one of the most different and vivid dreams he’d ever had. In the dream, he found himself lying completely naked on a beach not too different from the one the inn was on, and with the sun bathing his body, a beautiful blonde woman approached and began kissing his naked body. He couldn’t tell if it was Laura or not, because each kiss in the dream sent him into an ecstasy so intense that it overshadowed any sense other than pleasure, so much so that he only realized the figure in his dream had shifted to a muscular, bearded man with his dark body glistening with sweat in the morning sun, just seconds before he was jolted awake by the indignant voice of his fiancée.

"Jeremy, so this is what you were doing instead of meeting me for breakfast? Jerkin’ off in that queer’s room? How disgusting!" Laura barked, her face twisted in outrage as she found her boyfriend in that compromising position. Jeremy, caught off guard, shot back without thinking.

"Never use that kind of word in my presence again, Laura; if there’s anything disgusting, it’s those expressions!"

"Jeremy, how dare you correct me! Disgusting, yes, and even more disgusting are the habits of these faggots, but apparently, you’re already pretty used to it, huh? Jerk off in one of their bedrooms? And you didn’t even shave that gross beard. As if you just cut your hair without talking to me, I’m at my limit!" she fired back, causing all the layers of inhibition to come crashing down on a now more awake Jeremy.

"I’m sorry, babe; I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. Give me a few minutes to get ready, and we can have breakfast together," he said, falling back into his servile habits as he struggled to understand what she meant about his beard and hair.

"Well, you can have your breakfast alone. And you don’t even need to come with me to the beach; I’ll take Kayla to help me. Make the most of your day without my presence!" she replied angrily, storming out of the room and leaving a confused and still groggy Jeremy behind.

He, in turn, stood up and stretched, losing his balance a bit as he felt the strange sensation that he seemed to be a good few inches taller, which he knew was nonsense, since no one grows overnight other than the fact that he had been this height since the start of his adult life, which had helped him in many volleyball and basketball games when he was younger. Other activities he missed but couldn’t find time in his day to practice. He had never resented Laura for these things, but deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation for having given up pretty much all his interests for hers. Shaking his head in an attempt to shove those intrusive thoughts aside, he headed to the bathroom and took a long shower, knowing it was pointless to look for his girlfriend while she was in that mood; poor Kayla, whoever she was, would have to put up with Laura that morning, he thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm as he soaped the six-pack abs on his torso, this time without trying to shake that thought away. After stepping out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror; for someone who could no longer stick to a strict workout routine, he looked pretty damn good; he was lean but built, and his short beard accentuated the angles of his face, framed by his golden curls.

Maybe it was time for Laura to learn to appreciate the boyfriend she had better, he thought, leaving the bathroom without shaving, before changing and getting ready to enjoy a morning of sun and sea without Laura’s constant complaints and orders, which without a doubt was the best thing that could have happened, said a new invasive thought that once again did not go away.

……..

Jeremy wandered along the seawall for several minutes, feeling the sand beneath his feet, the scent of the sea breeze filling his lungs, and the sun’s rays bathing his fair skin, even though he knew he risked getting burned; it felt too good to let go. After wandering for a long time, he sat down on the beach and simply let himself be engulfed by it all, a wave of peace and completeness washing over him. Without realizing that the longer he stayed there, the less white his skin became, turning to a golden summer tone, while his muscles expanded slightly, giving him the look of someone who worked out regularly and carefully. Lost in his own mind he found himself searching for Miguel Ramos' name on social media, and getting lost in the other man's posts.

And there he would have stayed without noticing the changes if he hadn’t been interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey, roomie, watch out for a burn on your skin!"

Looking up he came face to face with the target of his interested scrutiny in all his glory with a beautiful smile plastered on his face.

"I may not have your Latin genes, Miguel, but it’s been a hot minute since I’ve burned!" he replied, smiling, as that strange feeling invaded him again.

"Still, the sun around here is way stronger than what you’re used to. Let me help you," Miguel replied, approaching with a tube of sunscreen in his hands. "That is, if you don’t mind."

Jeremy did care, not because of any prejudice but because of the fear of what that closeness would make him feel, not to mention the erection that threatened to return. But at the same time, he couldn’t resist that offer.

"No problem; I think you’re exaggerating, but Laura will be a total nightmare if I burn; she already hates my skin being so tanned."

"What nonsense; your skin is gorgeous; that tan pops real nice against your blonde hair; it gives you a healthy vibe, especially with those defined muscles."

"Thanks, dude; it’s nice to hear a compliment from... hummm," he groaned when he felt the other guy’s strong hands massaging his back.

"Something wrong?" Miguel asked.

"No... no... it’s just that the sunscreen was cold."

"Ah, I’m done. Just a little more down here," Miguel said, his hands moving toward Jeremy’s buttocks, making him tense up.

"Okay, do you want me to apply it on your front?"

"No, you don’t need to; I’ll handle that myself," Jeremy quickly responded, taking the sunscreen from Miguel’s hand without even thinking about those manly hands being so close to his cock.

"And where’s Laura? I thought you were helping with her content."

Thinking about his girlfriend brought an unexpected wave of irritation to Jeremy, like a cloud blocking out the morning sun.

"We had a blowout earlier... she did what she always does, said what she wanted, and bailed on me; I guess hoping I’d chase after her... but not this time... she can fend for herself with her new BFFO," he replied with a touch of bitterness that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

"Relationships can be a real pain sometimes."

"Ours isn’t, but I’m starting to think it’s just because I’m used to canceling myself out for her."

Miguel, who had already picked up on that, chose not to comment.

"Anyway, we should catch up later and sort this out; I still love her, of course, but some things are gonna have to change in our relationship."

"So how about we hit that run now, a little return to your old self?"

"Are you sure you’ll keep up with me, with all this extra size and already running before..."

"Boy, show some respect; I’m not one of the most well-known personal trainers in the world for nothing."

"Then we’ll see!" Jeremy shot back, getting up and taking off running.

……

Laura trudged through the beach sand with disgust. Her morning, like the rest of the trip, had been a total drag. Kayla was pleasant company, sharing the same interests as her, though she was in a lower tier with only a few tens of thousands of followers. Still, she expected Laura to return the favors she did by asking her to take pictures and film videos of her. Simply unbearable. And it was all Jeremy’s fault, obviously. She still couldn’t believe her useless boyfriend hadn’t come looking for her, and even worse, it was her forced to hunt him down again in that damned sand for the second time that day.

With that feeling, she watched two muscular dudes running from the beach edge towards the sea while laughing loudly and then diving in. A ridiculous and childish behavior in her book. So what was her surprise when she saw that one of those guys, the tanned blonde with a pompadour and a faded side cut, sporting a full beard just as blonde, smile and approach her with his muscular, sun-kissed body still glistening from the seawater.

"Hey babe, how was the morning?"

"Jeremy, how dare you leave me hanging like that! And that beard, you said you were gonna trim it! And your hair??? What the hell is this?"

"No hell, Laura. They look the way I like!"

"But not how my followers and I expected! You’re almost bald! That tan and those bulging muscles just don’t cut it!"

"Don’t blow it out of proportion, Laura; if I decide to shave all my hair, I will. Your followers have nothing to do with how I choose to style my hair or beard."

"Of course, it has everything to do with it; you’re my boyfriend; you affect how people see me!"

"Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m good for, how I make others perceive you."

"And how would it be any different? I make a living off this; I’m an influencer, and my boyfriend needs to be on brand with me."

"I’m not your accessory, Laura."

"Well, babe, in the end, it’s like you are!"

"So I don’t know if I even wanna keep this relationship going," he replied, turning his back on a furious Laura.

"Jeremy! Don’t you dare! Jeremyyyy....!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, but he didn’t look back and walked aimlessly toward the other side of the beach, under the watchful eye of Miguel Ramos.

…..

Jeremy wandered the beach for several minutes, trying to calm the influx of thoughts. He was torn between the despair of losing the woman he thought he loved and the growing contempt for that same woman. How could he have canceled himself out for so long? How could he not see who she was? And at the same time, she had been his life for the past few years; how could he live without her? There’s no way he could do that! Deciding to run back after her and humble himself for her forgiveness, he started sprinting. He only stopped when he heard the voice that made him start to associate with that strange feeling, a mix of desire and discomfort.

"Hey, Big Guy, what’s the rush?" asked a grinning Miguel, sitting on a bench at a beach bar.

"Sorry, Miguel; I need to find Laura!"

"And what’s the point in talking to her with your head all hot? Wait for you two to cool off."

"You don’t get it!"

"Ah, I get it. I get it so much that I’m gonna offer you the two things you need most right now: company and a few shots of tequila!"

"I don’t know, man..."

"Relax, dude, and follow me," Miguel said, grabbing Jeremy by the arms and leading him to a table at the bar.

…..

"I shouldn’t get in the middle of your relationship with your girlfriend. But I recently went through a messy divorce. And honestly, it took me a long time to realize I was in an abusive relationship," Miguel said to a downcast Jeremy.

"I’m not in a relationship like that; I love Laura," Jeremy replied, but with way less conviction than he wanted to show.

"And does she return that love? Does she love you the same way you love her?"

"Of course..."

"Really? Be honest with yourself if you don’t wanna be honest with someone you barely know."

"I want to believe that, but..."

"But you have doubts. Let me propose a game: I’m gonna ask you some questions about relationships, and for every positive answer from you and me, we’ll down a shot of tequila; I bet we’ll polish off a bottle in no time."

"First question: Have you ever felt like you were putting way more into this relationship than your partner?"

Both took a shot, and though neither noticed, Jeremy’s tan deepened, reaching a caramel shade very close to Miguel’s.

"Second question: Have you ever felt belittled by your partner?"

Another shot for both. And now Jeremy had shot up a few inches taller than Miguel.

"Third question: Have you ever felt like you’re nothing more than an accessory to your partner, that they don’t even see you as a person but as an object?"

Another shot. Another change. Jeremy’s muscles swelled, surpassing Miguel’s size and reaching the proportions of an amateur bodybuilder. The bottle was already half empty, but both men, who weren’t small, were already pretty tipsy, as that level of drinking wasn’t part of either of their habits.

"One more... one more..." a drunken Miguel said, looking extremely distorted in Jeremy’s vision. "Have you ever felt like you’re in this relationship out of fear... scared that you’re not good enough... that you can’t be loved by someone else... and that your partner takes advantage of that to keep you stuck with them?"

Another shot, and Jeremy’s already blurry vision began to swirl as a wave of anxiety took hold of him for finally admitting those truths, even while drunk. Miguel was spinning in front of him, and he felt an immense urge to get up and bolt, but when he did, he fell to the ground.

"Jeremy, Jeremy..." he heard the voice in the distance, that voice which stirred so many feelings within him. "Jeremy..." a voice that made him realize he could still desire and be desired... "Jer...." the voice that made him tingle just hearing it. "Jav..." the voice of the man he was in love with but couldn’t admit.

"Javier, get up; is everything cool?"

And Javier stood up amidst laughter.

"It’s all good, Miguel; it takes way more than a shot of tequila to take down a man my size," he replied with a grin, sitting back down at the table. At the same time, he ran his hands through his shiny black beard.

"Let me ask the question now," Javier said, beaming wider. "Do you think you’re ready to ditch this relationship and move on to better things?"

One more shot for both.

…..

Javier lay back on a couch of the exclusive rooftop bar Miguel that Miguel reserved just for the two of them, feeling his head spinning. While his roommate spent some not-so-productive time feeling the same way sitting on the toilet. As he tried hard not to toss his cookies, he felt his phone buzz. When he looked at the screen, he noticed there were tons of messages and calls from an unknown number. Choosing to deal with it when he was in better shape, he closed his eyes and thus didn’t see each of those messages and calls vanish from his records.

With his head still spinning, he slipped into a restless sleep filled with rapidly changing dreams, until again he dreamed of that slim, stunning blonde. In the dream, she lay down on him again and started kissing his naked body, but without provoking any reaction in him, nothing, no excitement, no pleasure, until once again the smooth woman’s skin gave way to the rough sensation of a beard brushing against his body, and it was Miguel who kissed him, reigniting the flame of desire within him. While he slept, he moaned with excitement, a powerful erection between his legs, until he finally woke up feeling Miguel’s real mouth wrapped around his swollen cock. Trapped in that feeling of pleasure, he pulled the other man closer to him, being overtaken by the now familiar sensation of raw desire.

After hours of wild sex, Javier sat on the edge of the couch. with the strange feeling that he had forgotten something, as usual when this happened he found himself mentally going over his posing routine for his next competition.

Every fiber of his body had been honed with the utmost dedication and commitment, and soon he would be on stage to put all that work to the test. He ran his hand through his raven hair and finished the motion with his soft trimmed beard. He knew he’d have to shave it before the performance, but he was reluctant because Miguel liked him that way. Speak of the devil, Miguel at that moment repositioned himself on the couch and smiled.

"A penny for your thoughts," said the smaller and younger man, but who had still earned the position of his coach and Javier’s heart.

"It’s no biggie, Mig; I was just checking myself out and thinking it’s a shame to shave; you like it so much..."

"Javi, I want you with or without a beard; I don’t care how you look; I care about being with you."

"So you mean if I were smaller and skinnier, you’d still be with me?"

"Maybe you wouldn’t have caught my eye right off the bat, but like I said, I care about the person you are; the man I fell for, and if he gains or loses weight, that’s not gonna change."

"Thanks, babe; that’s really nice to hear," Javier replied.

"You know what else is nice? Your posing routine, show it to me babe."

"You've seen it a hundred times, babe."

"What can I do if I can't get enough of watching my hot fiancé flex his muscles for me?" Miguel said with a mischievous smile, making a big smile spread across Javiers face, who even tried to pose seriously, crossing the covered area of ​​the lounge towards the balcony, but failing miserably and loving every second of it as he heard the whistles and flirtations of the passionate man he had chosen to have by his side.

……

The afternoon sun shone brighter than ever, but even that didn’t seem to brighten a sunburned Laura’s mood as she gossiped with Kayla at the beach bar while they discreetly watched Miguel and Javier talking.

"Is this a good time? They seem to be having a spat," Kayla asked her friend.

"Just because they’re serious doesn’t mean they’re fighting. If we consider their social media, they’re living the dream," Laura replied.

"You know as well as I do how misleading social media can be."

"Still, this is our chance to collab with them; it’s not every day we get to work with two of the biggest fitness influencers in the game."

"Smile; they’re looking this way!" said Kayla, making both of them flash identical fake smiles, returned by a nod from the fitness couple of the year, who then got up and headed toward the beach.

"There goes our shot," Laura grumbled.

"Don’t sweat it, girl; people like you always get what’s coming to them," said a smiling Cintia, who was passing by before positioning herself at the bar counter and grinning.

A grin that widened when she saw Miguel and Javier together on the beach sharing a passionate kiss. If there was something she took pride in, it was a job well done, and at her inn, that meant way more than just a bed and breakfast.

[juanbodyswapstfs]

Fair Trade

David was a hard working father trying to provide enough to maintain his son. The downside to this was he wasn’t spending a lot of time with his son martin.

Martin was an attractive young man but doesn’t know the potential he has in his body. It pained David that Martin wouldn’t use his body to its full potential.

One day, David came home early from work. “Hey Martin, im home early!” Said David. David didn’t get a response and headed upstairs. He saw the door to his bathroom opened and saw Martin jerking off to his briefs. “Dad!” Martin proceeds to slam the door in a hurry.

A few hours later..

Hey bud, You doing alright? “Dad, please go away.” Said Martin. “Son, I know how you feel, when I was your-“ “Dad just stop it! you don’t know how I feel.” Said Martin angrily. “Alright, Ill give you some time to calm down, when your done, come to the living room and we’ll have a chat.” Said David.

A few minutes later..

“Hey dad, Im sorry for how I talked to you..” Said Martin. “Don’t worry bud, I get your sexual desires hehe.” David said. “I love you but sometimes I just wish we could feel more connected.” Martin said. “Yeah, Hehe I wish you knew how good and strong your body is martin.” David said. “And I wish I could spend more time with you dad.” Martin said. “Well, goodnight my son.” David said. They both head to bed and sleep until the next morning.

In the morning

Martin wakes up feeling a bit sore and clumsy. “Woah why do I feel so big all of a sudden.” Martin opens his eyes and sees a huge bulge in his briefs. “Oh my god dad, why didn’t I know you had such a huge package.” Davids package was girthy and long with his balls big and manly. “Damn my armpits smell fucking good.” Martin whips out his new package and starts jerking off. “Ooohh yeah that shits good.” Martin then cums all over his dads chest.

On davids side..

David woke up and already knew something was wrong. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, “Hey handsome, Im gonna treat this body how it should be treated.” David Takes off his socks and smells them, “Mmmm” David takes out his package and jerks off. “Oooo fuck yeah im your country boy.” His hot steamy sperm squirts on the mirror. Martin then knocks on the door, “Hey Dad, you like your new body?” Martin says. “Dad?” “Im your son Dad.” David says in a cheeky tone. “Oh dad, im gonna use this body to its full potential.” David says. “Hahaha son, me too.” Martin says. “Alright im going to work” Martin says then leaves.

At the construction site..

Martin was trying his hardest to fit in as his father, He had to take a leak and went to the restroom. At the restroom there was an attractive construction worker guy pissing next to him. “Mind If I give you a hand haha.” Martin said. “Uh David?” The man said. “Just joking with ya haha.” Martin said a bit disappointed. The guy zipped up and left the restroom in a hurry. When Martin finally finished he walked out and saw his manager. “Hey david, Im sorry to say this but, your fired.” “Wait what?” “You harassed one of your coworkers.” The manager said. Defeated, Martin headed back home.

At Martins school.

David was having a blast in his sons body, winning every game and scoring a lot in gym class! “Haha beat that suckers!” David says. “You changed so much martin..” says martins crush. “People change my dude.” David says says. Martins Crush walks away sad. The bell rings and David runs home in his new youthful body.

At home

David and Martin arrived home in each others bodies. “Im sorry Dad, I got fired.” Martin said. “Oh thats fine, its your body now anyways.” David said. “Im doing well in school so fair trade haha.” David Said. Both Martin and David were satisfied with their bodies, David joined football and graduated with a athletes scholarship and Martin got a job as a Gay stripper.

So sorry for not posting stories in a while, I was kinda blocked on what to do next.. Message me if you have requests! peace out.

[concreteburialplot]

Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS- 

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable. 

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

--

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before. 

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high? 

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was. 

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off. 

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too. 

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.” 

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs. 

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand. 

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words. 

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?” 

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement. 

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question. 

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?” 

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock. 

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago. 

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth. 

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too. 

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline. 

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue. 

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to. 

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now. 

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.” 

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…” 

-Next Day- 

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago. 

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission. 

-

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her. 

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer. 

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.  

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster. 

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

--

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine. 

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

My

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

-

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

 “Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again. 

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe?  shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

--

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me. 

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line. 

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us. 

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk. 

 --

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.  

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon. 

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

--

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it. 

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

--

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble. 

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?” 

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers? 

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this – especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

-

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky. 

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you. 

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once? 

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy. 

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle. 

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be. 

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body. 

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space. 

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot. 

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep. 

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out. 

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness. 

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one. 

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush. 

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one. 

“It’s empty.” 

Next Chapter -> 06 - Like Us*

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

[illicien]

What drew you to winterbaron as a ship? What kind of content do you read? Is it different from the kind of content you write? Would you like to rec a few winterbaron works? My friend is into the ship and I'm trying to see if it's something I might like but all the fics they've recked me are kind of the same in tone so I'm looking for others opinions for some variety.

Hmm! I've sort of answered some of this in the past so sorry to my moots getting this rehash.

A friend of mine dragged me into WinterBaron (kicking and screaming!!!) rather simply, actually, though what kept me here was the more grand implications of her simple origins. I'm kind of a sucker for a true power bottom, and fanart my friend kept sending me implied the fandom saw Zemo as such, and I was at least a little bit intrigued there. Enough to take a deeper look, at least.

The better discovery wasn't that the fandom had decided he was a power bottom, but that there was a strong push and pull of power in their dynamic. Bucky has all the physical power between them, it's a big thing, he's strong as hell. On the other hand, Zemo is just a guy, and yet despite that Bucky should logically have all the power between them, Zemo's intelligence and knowledge tend to leave him with an edge. That continues to be the fascinating concept about Zemo to me, but that's a different matter.

So for me, it's the manipulation, the push and pull of power, it's Bucky trying to break free of being the Winter Soldier and Zemo trying to decide if Bucky's just like every other super soldier. But it's also about understanding that Zemo knows Bucky in ways most people alive don't. He knows and understands Bucky's history as the Winter Soldier both through his research, and as a man who did horrific things on behalf of his country. And that thought can sometimes lead to softer moments of understanding, I think, that can be enjoyable in fic.

As for content I read vs write: I generally gravitate towards dark fic with these two, though there's plenty of really good stuff that isn't. There are some excellent explorations of kink in the fandom for them which is refreshing. I don't really write them as dark as I read them, since I enjoy writing the power dynamics more than the overt manipulation, but if you're looking for more tonal variety I'm sure I can make some recommendations! (Under the cut!)

** Please make sure you read all of the tags thoroughly. What I enjoy in fiction may not be to your taste, and I respect that, but the best I can do is to link to the site with the tags. 💜

Recs (under 20k words)

Just A Little More by @six-demon-bag epitomizes a lot of what I've said above, and if I didn't start out with it on the list here I'd be doing myself a disservice for how often I reread this.

Bucky goes into a painful rut and Zemo seizes the opportunity to sink newer, more subtle hooks into him.

Breathless by @zsparz is one I like to return to whenever I'm looking to feel sad but don't have a lot of time to read. I can't explain why this one hits me so hard but holy smokes does it make me weepy. Sparz is great at making me cry, though, so like - anyway.

The water kept rising. Bucky could hold his breath a long time underwater, and he remembered vividly how he’d acquired that knowledge. Sam might find him in time.

But Zemo would be long dead by then.

Past Indiscretions by @sagegarnish makes me laugh, genuinely. The whole idea of it brings me a lot of joy, and the execution is delightful.

Bucky and Zemo are trapped in 1941.

Unfortunately Bucky's past self is the only one who might know where the missing Pym Particles are that they need to get home.

When young!Bucky pulls Zemo into an alley, Bucky is forced to watch as a drunken forgotten night from his past becomes a lot clearer.

Recs (20k+ words)

That Which You Fear by @spintwinwb is a trilogy that starts off feeling like an AU and turns into something really fascinating imo. Lots of extra goodies here for comics fans, too.

Instead of freeing the people of Westview, Wanda pushed out across multiverses to get her brother back, and the entire world was caught in the crossfire. Cast in a new, peaceful life in upstate New York in a world with mutants, no Avengers, and no HYDRA, Bucky Barnes struggles to reconcile memories and dreams that no longer make sense with what he thinks he knows about himself.

One Two Many by @six-demon-bag is sweet and fun and complicated, and I really did try not to double-up on authors here but agh. What am I supposed to do??

Bucky and Zemo meet on an anonymous dating app and find a deep connection in each other. In the meantime, they grow closer in person without realizing they’re falling in love online too.

Too Good To Be True by AnadoraBlack is really one of those fics where the tropes are used so well, imo. A very enjoyable read.

Bucky wakes up with no recollection of where he is, how he found himself there, and what the heck is going on. There's also a ring on his finger, and time lost. What the living FUCK?!

The Original Sin by @zsparz because I might as well completely fail at the "only one per author" in spectacular fashion. This sits here because it sits on a very peculiar line between canon and AU and just... like I said. Sparz makes me cry. This isn't a departure from that fact.

Bucky and Zemo keep meeting over the course of several lifetimes. Zemo remembers everything. Bucky doesn’t, but there’s an eerie impression of familiarity he can’t shake — an old pain he can’t explain, with roots too deep for him to reach.

AU Recs

Removing Bucky and Zemo from the context of their complicated history in the MCU can highlight different aspects of their characters that are really interesting to explore, as someone who finds their unique characters quite interesting as well, though I also know it isn't for everyone. Neither of these recs are short so if you don't mind an AU, set some time aside for these ones.

It Started Out With a Curse by Thorny is a fun AU I never really expected to find in this fandom. I personally have a history of writing in fantasy settings so this one has a special place in my heart.

What happens when the King and Queen of a human kingdom slight a powerful fae Lord known only as "The Baron"?

Enter a world of FairyTale/Fantasy Shenanigans as Prince James navigates his deadly curse and his confusing feelings for one (seemingly) cold and untouchable fae Lord. Meanwhile, something sinister is afoot trying to gouge a rift between the feywilds and the human kingdoms...

A Gentleman and a Scholar by EternalBeta is a no powers exploration of their dynamic that's... Beautiful. It also tackles a lot of things about kink that it feels like most fic and stories generally seem to ignore. There's also an amazing sequel series.

(this series doesn't have an easy summary available so I uh... I'll give it a go here: college student Bucky has a thing for his professor, and a whole series of bad decisions behind him. The trouble is, Bucky is impatient, and Professor Zemo doesn't fuck students. So Bucky better hurry up and graduate.)

Many of the writers above have at least a few WinterBaron fics, and I do highly recommend checking out their collections. Sparz and Six-Demon in particular have some really widely varied concepts and stories they tackle, and if you're curious at all I'd also recommend checking out Sholio who has some excellent Sam/Bucky/Zemo fics! I didn't toss recs here because they weren't the heart of the ask, but I gobbled those up easily for some very sweet treaties.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

LOVE - Chapter 2

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

Janelle is played by Justine Skye

Hopefully this is only 2 chapters but you know me lol it might be more.

Sequel to All I Need Is You: Read Here

Part 1

TAGLIST: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci24 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @purplehairgawdess @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @gomussy @jeysbae @hennyyybarb @babysyhsy @bebesobrielo

Janelle smiled as she turned her body to the side so she could see her growing bump. Six months  had passed since she found out she was pregnant and Josh’s family was ecstatic, they couldn’t wait to meet the newest addition to the family. 

Her family on the other hand… they could care less. Her brother congratulated her but they haven’t returned any of her calls or text messages. She hasn’t talked to her dad in years since she found out he had a drug problem and didn't want to stay clean. Ever since her mother left her dad went on a downward spiral.  She tried not to think about how she didn’t really have a family, she didn’t want to be sad. Today was supposed to be a good day. Her, Josh and Xavier were going to see the baby through ultrasound and find out the gender.  

“Janelle! You ready?” Josh called out for her.  She hurriedly washed her hands and walked out of the bathroom. 

“Yeah, sorry.” He smiled and walked over to her to kiss her on the cheek. 

“You good. We just excited.” He said, nodding over to Xavier who was bouncing on his toes. She laughed and followed them out to the garage. 

“You ready to see your brother or sister?” Janelle asked Xavier as she strapped him into his booster seat. He nodded with a wide grin on his face. 

“Yeah I can’t wait! I hope it's a boy!”  Janelle smiled and gave him a kiss on his forehead before getting into the passenger seat. 

She placed a hand on her growing bump and looked out the window. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t stop thinking about her family. 

“Alright mom you can lay down right here and pull your shirt up to just under your bra and dad you and baby boy can sit right here.” The sonographer said. Janelle and Josh nodded. “This stuff is super cold so I apologize in advance.” 

Janelle sucked in a breath as the sonographer placed the gel on her stomach, Josh grabbed her hand, his eyes focused on the screen. He never got the chance to do this when Xavier’s mom was pregnant. She didn’t tell him about Xavier until after he was born. 

The tech moved the machine around before turning to them and smiling. “There’s your son or daughter.”  Janelle felt her eyes water as she gripped Josh’s hand tighter. 

“Look Josh.” She said in awe as they watched the screen.” 

“Would you like to know the gender?” She asked and Janelle looked over at Josh who nodded his head. “Alright,” She said. “Congratulations, you’re having a boy.” Xavier and Josh let out a cheer making Janelle and the sonographer laugh.  Xavier got off of his dad’s lap and walked over to Janelle, placing his hand on her stomach. 

“You’re gonna be a great big brother.” The sonographer said with a smile on her face and Xavier nodded. 

“The bestest.” 

Janelle stared at her stomach in the mirror as she got ready for bed. She placed her hands on her lower stomach. “I promise I’m gonna be the best mommy ever.” She whispered looking down at her belly.  Even after spending the day with Josh and Xavier and seeing her baby she still was feeling down about her family. 

She kept wondering how her and her moms relationship would have been if she never walked out on them. She angrily wiped her tears away. This was supposed to be a happy moment in her life but all she could think about was her piece of shit family. 

She walked out of the bathroom and let out a chuckle when she saw Josh, staring at the ultrasound pictures. “Can you believe we really having a baby?” He asked. She got under the covers and leaned her head on his shoulder. 

“It seems so surreal to be honest.” She said, placing her hand on her belly. Josh set the ultrasound picture down and placed his hand over hers.  

“I love you” He said to Janelle kissing her on her lips before scooting down and pressing a kiss to her stomach. “And I love you too.” 

It was now the weekend and time for their gender reveal party.  Janelle walked into the backyard and let out a gasp. Josh had gone all out for this party. He had hired an event planner and a decorator. Josh walked over to her. 

“Is it too much?” He asked, watching as she looked around their backyard. She shook her head. 

“No,  this is amazing.” 

“I was scared I did too much. You know I never got to do any of this with Xavier.”  Janelle had to stop herself from crying, what Xavier’s mom had put Josh through was terrible. He didn’t even know that Xavier existed until he was almost 1. 

“Oh my god!” Trinity said as she and Jon walked into the backyard. “This is bomb as fuck.” She said, giving Janelle a hug. “Girl you look amazing.” 

“Thank you. Josh planned everything.” Janelle said laughing when Josh gave himself a pat on the back. 

“Look at you all glowing and shit.” Jon said as he gave Janelle a hug. “I hope y'all having twins.” She slapped him on his chest. 

“Don’t wish that on me.” She said pushing him when he started laughing. They stood there talking some more until more guests started to arrive. 

Janelle smiled softly as she looked around the backyard at everyone who came to celebrate their baby. It was still bittersweet since it was still all of Josh’s family, her aunt came and dropped off a gift but she didn’t stay.  

Josh watched her from a distance, even though he was far away from her, he could still see the sadness in her face. He sighed and pulled his phone and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the text message. He snuck out of the side of the yard and met Janelle’s father and the sidewalk as he was getting out of his uber. 

“Thank you for coming.” Josh said as he grabbed the luggage out of the trunk. 

“Thank you for getting in contact with me. I would have hated to miss this moment.”  After seeing how sad Janelle looked the other day when they were going ofer the guest list Josh immediately knew it was because none of her family had RSVP’d. He knew that Janelle and her father and brothers had a rocky relationship but he knew that she wanted him to be there so Josh hired a private investigator to find Janelle’s dad. 

“She’s gonna be happy that you’re here.” Josh led him through the yard and towards Janelle. She was talking with one of his aunts when he cleared his throat making her turn around.  Janelle’s eyes widened when she saw her dad next to Josh. 

“Hey baby girl.” He said, pulling her into a hug. The second she was in his arms she broke down. Josh watched them with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes. He knew that all Janelle wanted was her dad to be present for his grandchild. Josh walked away from them to give them some privacy. 

When Janelle and her dad pulled apart, he wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry Nelly. I’m gonna do better.”  She was so overcome with emotion she couldn't say anything so she just pulled him into a tight hug.

After introducing her dad to everyone it was time for them to reveal the gender of their baby.

“It's time to find out the gender!” Josh said over the microphone. All of the guests started to surround the pool where the fireworks would go off. Josh and Janelle stood in front of the “Oh Baby” sign and Xavier stood in front of them. 

“Thank you for getting my dad here.” She whispered to him. 

“I know you’ve been wanting to get back in contact with him so I had to do that for you.” She smiled at him and placed a kiss on his lip. “I love you.” He said once they broke apart. 

“Enough kissing! I’m tryna see if imma have a niece or nephew!” Jon yelled out. Janelle rolled her eyes while Josh flipped him off much to their moms dismay 

“Fine, let's start the countdown.” 

“5..4..3..2..1” Everyone chanted. Janelle jumped when the fireworks started to go off. Everyone started to cheer when the smoke turned blue.  Josh’s mom ran over and hugged all three of them. 

“I’m so happy for y’all. I love y’all so much.” 

“We love you too mom.” Josh said, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

JanellePorter

liked by, uceyjucey, trinity_fatu, and 3,000 others

JanellePorter: #boymom

comments have been disabled on this post.

Sorry for the wait. Love you all 💙

[transzilla]

You met me over grindr while I was in the city for a one night stand and for some reason we kept in touch, some glow around me that you really liked. Your living situation is a little crowded so we figured we would hook up in an empty bulldozer at a construction site at night. I work at a fire tower in the mountains and I really like other trans men but due to the geography haven't found anybody to stick around, so I tend to get around quite a bit when in the city.

Your living situation is tough. You've tried to go on hormones, or blockers, but keep being shamed and rejected and getting pressured out of it by distant family members or chaser-y roommates. You have no room to grow. You're fucking miserable. You contemplate offing yourself, guiltily, but quickly shoo the thought away considering you have a roof over your head and no real reason to be sad.

We text obsessively. I'm lonely out there, stealth trans in the middle of nowhere, and whenever I have service we text, call, vent, joke, bust balls, tell each other all our deepest, darkest secrets. They're looking to hire another lookout, my coworker retired. It requires you to live onsite and they provide housing without taking it out of your paycheck. I sympathize with your situation, I tell you you'd do well in this position, I'll put in a good word for you with the forest service, you should apply. Get you out of that glorified pig sty and somewhere with fresh air where you can finally breathe.

You get the job, make a fucking decision and leave everything behind to come work with me. We reunite, get drunk, get you accustomed to your new life. You talk to very few people and nobody seems to clock you as trans anyway. Your daily work is hard and manual but refreshing compared to customer service. You let me rail you every night, your food is taken care of, you're reading and working out and getting your back blown out on the clock.

Sometimes it feels like I make you do everything I'm supposed to do, I seem to enjoy watching you sweat and lift heavy things and slack on my work. I have a ton of testosterone that I share a little too excitedly with you and it doesnt look prescription, in small brown vials with blue caps, some of them are labelled cypionate but also proprionate, enthonate, undecanoate, demonic incantations you've never seen before in your life. And I'm real weird about always doing your injection for you. I stab it in so fast and it looks violent but it doesn't feel as bad when you do it, but the way I make eye contact and hold the needle in my teeth while I do my own injection is a little off putting. I'm constantly pushing you, nothing you ever do is good enough for me, all of my fetishes while we're fucking seem to entail you doing push ups naked, squats, bending over and letting me examine you, your legs getting so sore after im making you ride it, letting me squeeze your tits and feeling your pec underneath the breast. I smoke a pack a day and pressure you into joining me, complimenting you on how raspy and fucked up your voice sounds.

You have doubts. You aren't able to call your friends as often as you thought you would. When you talk to people you've been isolated so long you talk over them garishly, talk all about yourself, make too many dirty jokes and swear too much the way we talk to each other, awkward and unfit for civilized society. All you have is me and you have no choice but to trust that I have your best intentions in mind.

You let me teach you how to use a shotgun the salty perfume of the gunpowder staining your hands as your aim gets better and better, your guard lowering the more I've been praising you for doing what I want. We went hunting and you shot your first deer. I was so excited and you were so validated by how proud I was, it felt like a big hug from the inside out. You send a picture of the field dressed deer to your old city friends, guts steaming in the morning sun. they're absolutely disgusted by the fact that you would do such a thing and show them. You're a fucking machine of a man now and you're able to tame the wilderness everywhere except for in yourself.

After months you plain don't recognize yourself in the mirror. Your hair is wild, your facial hair not just a few long pubes jealously untouched on your chin but a uniform patchy stubble shaved haphazardly when you were tired of it being singed when you did fight fires. Knuckles scarred, shoulders broad, the gross muscle you feared you would develop rippling like a tiger under your skin and the extra weight you've gained. You talk like I do, you act like I do, you think like I do, you can't tell where you stop and I start. Your reflection looks sleepless, disordered, lost, a thuggish stranger. Heartless man.

[nuclear-equinox]

EDIT: Well , E*sy has decided to suspend my account for good. Because of this all 0rders made are being completed sooner than later, expect pre-0rders closer to early March. E*sy requires me to complete any orders I made with no means of canceling. Today my E*sy account was shut down with little to no communication between me and the support team, i can't express enough how frustrating it is to try and fight to keep my account with no means of knowing what I did wrong. E*sy doubled down, leaving me feeling helpless. It breaks my heart to have my store shut down after working so hard to finally put my work out there, I plan on finding a new means to sell my work, likely moving sites. I don't want this to be the end of my work as a seller. Regardless expect a break in sh0p updates. Once again, i'm so sorry things had to end up this way. I never thought going into this project that I would experience a suspension like this. Especially after putting so much time into the project, and having been a seller on the site for a while. I'm sad that it had to end up this way, but i genuinely want to thank everyone for giving me a chance. This was supposed to be my first big project as a seller and seeing people like the content I put out really made me happy. Edit/Update (3/1/24): Heyo! For those who have been waiting on the pre-0rders of the TTCC pins I just wanted to update ya'll and let you know the pins have left the production phase! This means soon I'll be able to get my hands on them and start distributing them! Despite the suspension of my *tsy account as many recall I have been working on moving to another site and hopefully soon will be able to have that fully up and running. (Uni classes have absorbed my free time oof) Also if you were looking to get your hands on pins before the pre-0rders closed prematurely, I will have bonus stock, so be on the look out for that! Regardless thank you to everyone for being patient and understanding <3

[zoeysdamn]

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.4

Summary: You remember memories of your childhood with Xavier, hoping to get some courage from it to talk things out with him. Wednesday starts to suspect something, and Principal Weems isn't happy with either of you.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, underage drinking, swearing. IMPORTANT: the last part of the taglist had made my tumblr bug so hard so it didn't work, I'm sorry for those who hadn't received a notification while being tagged. If the problem continues for further parts, I'll consider deleting the taglist bc fuck I just lost 40 minutes re-editing this chapter 3 times before finally achieving to post it

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3]

Xavier had been your first kiss. You doubted he remembered it but you definitely did. When your aunt had dropped you at the Thorpe manor for the first time, you were just turning 6 and had that funny haircut that almost hid your eyes. Your aunt Cordelia wasn’t so fond of this hairstyle, but things had been hard for you since your mom’s passing less than six months ago; taking care of the birdnest you were calling hair could wait for the situation to settle down. 

Aunt Cordelia had explained to you that you were going to live with a dear friend of hers for some time because she couldn’t take you with her to an upcoming witch congress on the other side of the world. Couldn’t or wouldn’t you didn’t know, to you the only thing that mattered was that you were going to a foreign place, and your mom wasn’t here anymore to comfort you. 

“You’ll be fine here,” had assured your aunt while your luggage was taken out of a car by the butler. 

“Can’t I come with you?” you had asked again with a wobbling lip and watery eyes. 

“You know you can’t pumpkin,” said Aunt Cordelia. “Mr.Thorpe has a son about your age, I’m sure you’ll become friends very fast.” 

And just like that, she left, and you found yourself alone in a manor you didn’t know. 

Mr.Thorpe had been intimidating but the good thing was he hadn’t more time for you than your aunt did, and as soon he introduced himself to you he left too. So you had fled to your new room and hidden in the closet to cry. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t even want to be raised by Aunt Cordelia ; you wanted your mom, but that was impossible now. 

Then, you had heard the creak of the closet’s door being opened and you had timidly peaked up from behind your hand. A little boy was crouching down to your level, looking at you curiously with his big hazel eyes. 

“Why are you sad?” he had asked with his childish voice. 

Taken aback by his question, you had wiped the tears on your cheeks, “I’m not sad, I’m just lonely.” 

He had looked at you curiously; then he had raised his little hand to brush away the hair that was obstructing your face. The gesture had made you flinch a bit, but he was gentle and somehow, you had felt like you could trust this boy. He had beamed, exposing the gap left by a missing tooth. 

“You have pretty eyes!” he had exclaimed. 

“Thanks?” you had said unsure, still sniffling. 

He nodded vigorously, his smile plastered on his chubby face. Then he extended his hand to you. “Wanna get out of here? I know where the cookies are hidden, we can search for them together, it’ll be fun!” 

This brought a small smile to your face for the first time in weeks, and you had taken his hand. Within the next few days, you had your hair cut. That’s how you met Xavier Thorpe. 

From there, your friendship bloomed. Aunt Cordelia tried to spend at least six months a year with you, and you lived at her house for that time. Well, she tried, and sometimes you found yourself dropped by the Thorpe manor more than intended. This didn’t bother you, you enjoyed Xavier’s company, and you were best friends after all. And considering his own father was also absent frequently, he loved when you were there. When you turned 12, your aunt brought you along on her trips to make a sort of pilgrimage around all the important sites of witchcraft around the world. According to her, it was time for you to learn more about your history and soak up their energy. The trip was so long, you didn’t see Xavier for two whole years. And when you came back to the Thorpe manor at 14, the both of you had changed a lot. Gone was the little boy with scraped knees and round cheeks, the teenager you met at the door was lanky and definitely taller than you now. 

“Hey,” he had greeted you with a lopsided grin. The twinkle in his eyes though hadn’t changed the slightest. 

“Hi,” you had smiled back. “You’ve let your hair grow,” you noticed. 

“You lost the braces,” he counter-attacked, not losing his smile for a second. 

He opened his arms and you didn’t lose a breath before diving into the hug. Oh, you had missed him. You had thought that everything would be like usual, but since puberty, you definitely noticed that things had indeed changed between you two. Your aunt asked a little more about Xavier when you went home, and you didn’t look at him the same way. He was more…attractive somehow; you loved the long hair. The same week you came back, the two of you went to a party with some of his friends from the normie school he went to. This wasn’t the first time any of you had alcohol, but it definitely was the first time you got drunk. A silly game was suggested and in your already advanced tipsy state, you and Xavier had thought this would be fun. You remembered vaguely the rules being to spin a bottle and then kiss someone or drink to avoid it, or something. To be honest most of your memories of that night were kind of blurry ; but when the bottle had pointed in your direction and your eyes had met Xavier’s, you distinctly remember your heart missing a beat. Maybe you had thought about protesting or something, maybe your mind had been too cloudy to properly ponder whether or not you should do this. It didn’t matter, because the next thing you knew then, Xavier had leaned to you and had pressed his lips against yours. That’s how you got your first kiss, by kissing your best friend during a drinking game. 

The next day the hangover had been so hard, Xavier didn’t remember half of the previous evening, not even your kiss. But you definitely did. Over the years you had forced yourself to push it down, thinking it was only a silly teenagers game and that you shouldn’t get too excited about this. 

Thinking about this now, you thought that you had been in love with Xavier for far longer than you imagined. You should have seen it coming, and yet here you were, with flowers slowly growing in your lungs because of your feelings. 

You were wandering in Jericho as the other Nevermore students were dispatched in different areas for Outreach day. Principal Weems had reminded you that everyone’s presence was requested for the inauguration ceremony at the end of the day – that yes, even you miss L/N are to attend this. Then she had let you free for the remainder of the day, and you were glad she did. You had a few things to buy at Jericho, this could be the occasion. But while you were making your purchases you were starting to realize that you were only postponing the moment when you’ll eventually have to talk with Xavier. 

He had left the Nightshades’ crypt quite upset, it pained you even more to know that he was mad at you. You needed to fix this and fast. So you ended up pushing the Weathervane’s doors  open, eyes searching for familiar hazel hair. Enid had texted you where Xavier had the displeasure of working that day and reading the coffee shop's name had made you wince. Hopefully, Tyler won't be working today. 

“Hey L/N,” you heard from the counter and you cursed internally. Turning to the counter, you narrowed your eyes at the curly-haired boy. 

“Galpin,” you greeted him half-heartedly as you came closer. Ever since what he and his friends had done to Xavier on last year’s Outreach day, you despised him. 

“Do you, uh, want to order something?” he asked. 

God, the way he acted all innocent and kind made you want to punch him in the face. On any other day you probably would have, but right now you were just drained. 

“Sure,” you finally let out, “I’ll have a large cappuccino with two shots of espresso, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said before starting to make your order, and you find a seat next to the window. 

For a moment, you put your face in your hands like it would give you some peace for a while. Everything had escalated so quickly, you didn’t even know if there was going to be an actual end to all of this. 

The sound of a mug being dropped in front of you on the table made you look up, and the sight of Xavier surprised you. 

“Tyler mentioned that you had ordered something,” he explained to your surprised expression. 

Glancing to the boy awkwardly standing behind the counter, who tried to look like he was busy and not looking at the two of you, you gave him the slightest nod of the head as a thanks. Xavier sat on the opposite bench, arms plopped on the table nervously. 

“Look I–”

“There’s something–” you both started at the same time. It made you chuckle nervously, “Go on,” you pressed him gently. 

He passed a hand through his hair nervously, “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick yesterday, okay?”. The guilt in his eyes was evident and you were relieved to hear that he had calmed down. “I shouldn’t have called you a liar.”

“No, that’s on me,” you muttered, playing with the still untouched mug. “I’m…not feeling well these days,” you finally admitted. 

Xavier’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. To his knowledge, you never had any serious health issues. The flu once in a while maybe, but nothing that sounded that bad. He leaned closer to you over the table, a serious look on his face. 

“What’s going on?” he asked in a hushed, yet gentle voice. 

Suddenly, all the courage you had built up vanished. You had been so confident that you were going to tell Xavier everything, that this was the only way of making things right. You felt like you owed him that, after all, he had everything to do with your condition. 

But as you were about to expose the truth to him…something stopped you. 

The feeling of a warm hand on your trembling ones made you snap back to reality. Xavier’s face was fully painted in worry now. 

“You okay?” he asked. “You zoned out for a second.” 

You nodded slowly, gulping. No need to lie to yourself, you knew exactly what was stopping you from telling Xavier everything. The fear of losing him. Deep down you were afraid that if you told him about the Hanahaki disease, and what – who – caused it, he would end up leaving you. And you were far more afraid of losing Xavier than you were of coughing flowers. Because without Xavier, you feared that you'd end up alone again. And you never wanted to ever feel like that again. 

Licking your lips, you wondered what you should say to him. So you lied again. 

“I’m ill,” you blurted out. “I got sick around a week ago, that’s why I’ve been so distant lately.”

Technically, you weren’t really lying to him. It had been more than a week since the first symptoms, but the rest was true. You simply choose…not to disclose everything. 

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, “are you feeling okay? What is it?”

“I’m fine,” you squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I had no idea of what it was until recently so…”

“Is this serious?” he inquired again. 

Flashes of the pages mentioning the inevitable death of patients appeared in your mind. 

“No,” you finally let out. “I’ll get better at some point I’m sure. Bought a few things to make a potion to ease the symptoms.” 

Xavier glanced at your bag and nodded. Whether or not he believed you, he didn’t press the matter further. 

“I should have been honest with you sooner, it’s just…it had been a couple of rough weeks,” you said with a weak smile. 

He nodded in understanding, still you could see he was still worried about you. “Yeah, I get it…between that, Wednesday's arrival and the whole monster thing it had been a little bit crazy, right?”

You slightly frowned at him. It wasn’t it, he was misreading the situation completely! As you were about to say something, you suddenly became very aware of faint whispers around you. So did Xavier apparently because the two of you whipped your heads around at the same time. Glancing behind your shoulder you noticed a group of normies teenagers throwing glances at you, whispering and giggling among themselves. Some of their words reached your ears.

“...think…’re together?...”

“maybe…freaks…from Neverm…”

“...kinda cute…couple…”

You felt your face burn. Not in shame, but for the first time in the possibility of what it implied. Many people had mistaken Xavier and you as a couple before, but it was the first time you truly felt flustered by the idea of it. 

Then Xavier pulled his hand off of yours and the sudden loss of contact made your heart drop. He sank into his seat further, putting more distance between the two of you. Eyes flickering to him in disbelief, you only met his sorry expression. 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered while casting his eyes away. 

You wanted to protest, to say that it didn’t make you uncomfortable at all, but words were stuck in your throat. As were petals. 

“I should probably go back to work,” said Xavier while getting up. “But I’ll finish in an hour, if you want to wait?”

“Sure,” you mumbled. 

Tears started to burn behind your eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. The light ring of the doorbell made both of your heads turn to Wednesday who had just arrived. Her sole presence, usually not unwelcomed, was dreadful to you and you felt like you were becoming lightheaded. The burning inside your chest bloomed and the whole coffee shop felt suffocating. Raising from your seat abruptly you gathered your bag and vest without a word. 

“Where are you doing?” asked Xavier lightly touching your shoulder. 

“I’m- I’m not feeling well,” you excused yourself, which made Wednesday raise her eyebrow as she came to your side. “I need some air.” Feeling Xavier’s worried eyes on your back you squeezed the hand on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?” you whispered to him. 

He seemed to hesitate, but between your pleading eyes and the intense bored expression on Wednesday’s face, he finally conceded. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll see you later.”

You smiled weakly at him before rushing to the exit, head low. Walking rapidly through the streets you hurried until you found an empty alley which you immediately rushed into before throwing up in a garbage can. The flowers and blood mixed together regurgitated from your sore throat, as quickly as they had appeared within your chest. Tears flooded down your cheeks as the last petals left your mouth. Coughing fits were getting more and more unpredictable. You choked on your own breath, mouth tasting bitter and throat ablaze. If you didn’t do something real quick, you were going to die. But for now, you just felt so, so tired. Weems and the inaugural ceremony be damned, you were going back to Nevermore to sleep your problems away. Then, you’ll take it from here. 

In the end, returning to the school to sleep and avoid facing your problems gave you more problems. A few hours later you were standing in Principal Weems’ office alongside Wednesday, getting a lecture about setting Crackstone’s statue on fire. 

“For the hundredth time, I didn’t set fire to that statue!” you pleaded to the principal. 

“And what evidence of your innocence do you have, miss L/N?” snapped Weems back. “Should you have attended the ceremony like you were supposed to, we wouldn’t have this conversation.” 

“I attended this ridiculous ceremony,” noted Wednesday out loud, “yet you’re suspecting me too.” 

She shot a deadly glare at your impassable roommate, “And I have every reason to miss Addams. The two of you had good motives to set this statue on fire, and miss L/N had mysteriously disappeared just before the ceremony.” 

“I wasn’t feeling well that’s all,” you tried to defend yourself. “Do you really think I’d brand myself a witch in front of all of Jericho? Those people hate my guts, I don’t want to have anything to do with their shitty town!” 

Weem’s hand hit her desk with force, “Mind your language, young lady!”

Wednesday only rolled her eyes at the whole ordeal. You on the other hand, were pretty sure she had something to do with it – but unlike you she had a solid alibi. And surprisingly, she stepped in your defense. 

“Y/N is right about not feeling well these days,” she interjected, making both Weems’ head and yours snap to her. “She sometimes coughs in her sleep, this is very unpleasant.”

Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at you, “Is that true, miss L/N? Have you fallen ill?”

You nodded slowly, “Just small flu. Must’ve caught a cold during the Poe cup.” 

The principal looked pointedly at the two of you, breathing hard through her nostril. Then she threw an accusatory finger at your pair.

“I want,” she articulated slowly, “the two of you out of my office. Now. And I don’t want to ever hear about you either.” 

None of you needed to be asked twice. Once in the corridors and far enough from Weems’ office, you turned to Wednesday. 

“Thank you for having my back with Weems,” you said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“No I didn’t,” she repeated. “I was right, you do cough at night and it is unpleasant.” 

That made you frown slightly. None of your roommates shouldn’t have been able to hear you, you still casted the silencing spell every night. 

“Since when?” 

“About a week,” she said, while narrowing her eyes. 

You started to think hard. It had been far more than a week since you had started to cast the spell. This was basic magic, a simple but efficient spell that you had been practising for years. There was no reason for you to fail it. The only logical explanation…was that your magic was weakening. The natural reaction for your mind would be to list every reason for it not to be possible, but then you thought about the sudden stop of your spell during the Poe cup, which had made your boat stop dead in its tracks; and so it added up. The disease had not only damaged your body, but it had also consequences on your powers. This was definitely concerning. 

“You are indeed sick, aren’t you?” asked Wednesday. At the surprised look on your face, she quickly added, “Don’t think I care, I’m just readjusting your position on my suspects' list by considering all the parameters.”

You scoffed in disbelief “I’m on your suspect list? No shit, Wednesday?”

“It is perfectly plausible,” she said plainly. “With your powers and knowledge in potions, you have the ability to increase your strength I suspect, and you know the school’s grounds by heart,” you heard her listing, “you’ve spent more time alone than usual for the past weeks, with no one to testify of your presence elsewhere than on the crime scenes, and when I started to suspect Xavier you immediately fled to his defence without proof, like you knew for sure he couldn’t be the monster. So tell me Y/N,” she continued while looking at you dead in the eye, “why couldn’t you be the killer?” 

Struck by her question you could only blink in disbelief. What. the. hell? 

“Excuse me what?” you articulated after long seconds of silence. 

“You should be honored,” she said flatly, “it requires some skills to be added to a potential suspect list.” 

“I don’t want to be on a fucking suspect list,” you spat, “you’re delusional Wednesday.” 

“My observations and suppositions are rarely wrong, I’m not the one burying herself in denial.”

Stepping closer to her you gritted your teeth together. “I can’t be the monster, I literally can’t.” 

“What proof do you have of that?” she retorted. 

Fuming, you tried to not play her game. But staying calm in front of her insolent lay back behavior was starting to be incredibly harder. “Drop it,” you spat. 

“You’re just proving me right.”

That’s when you lost it, “I CAN’T BECAUSE I’M FUCKING DYING OKAY?” you roared at her. 

For a moment, nothing but echoes of your words resonated within the corridor’s walls. Your ragged breaths contrasted with Wednesday’s neutral expression, unfazed by your scream. Only after a few seconds of a mortifying silence did you realize what you just did because you had lost your nerves. Shutting your eyes tightly you internally prayed that no one around heard you. 

“I don’t think you’re lying,” simply said Wednesday. 

You let out a scoff, “I’m not, trust me. I’m sick, and my health is deteriorating every day. If you don’t want to believe me that’s fine but leave me the fuck out of your stupid list.” 

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you, “Until you’re blessed with black plague, I doubt you’ll die because of whatever sickness you have.”

“God, can you stop being that infuriating for once?” you snapped bitterly. “I’ve done every possible research on the subject and I know I’m doomed, okay?” 

A silence took place between the two of you. You whipped away tears that had gathered at the corner of your eyes. It was the first time you had admitted it out loud ; it hurt more than you thought. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your condition,” said Wednesday quietly ; and now matter how surprised you were by her words, you still thanked her quietly. “Does a cure exist?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you muttered. “It…healing doesn’t depend on me.” At her frown, you lightly shrugged. “Flowers are growing in my lungs because of unrequited romantic feelings,” you explained quietly. “Eventually, I’ll either die from internal bleeding or choking.” 

This time, it was her turn to scoff, “You’re plagued with a deadly disease because you have feelings for someone? You just gave me the final proof that feelings are indeed useless, thank you.”

“I don’t fucking need your sarcasm,” you seethed, “if you want to be a stone-cold bitch that’s on you, but no need to mock me for having actual feelings. I didn’t choose this.” 

She looked at you closely, like she was trying to figure out something. Which she apparently did rather quickly: “It’s Xavier, isn’t it? He’s the one you have…feelings for.” 

You turned your face away, licking your lips. Wednesday was really the last person you wanted to have this conservation with. 

“You’re getting weak and you’re losing your powers because you have feelings for a meaningless man,” she repeated. “I thought you were better than that.”

“Fuck off Wednesday,” you cried, finally reaching your breaking point. “I’m not asking to understand, I’m not even asking you to be compassionate but shit, for once in your life be respectful of someone’s privacy.”

With that, you turned away and rushed into the corridors. You didn’t want to hate Wednesday, she had done nothing to you ; even regarding Xavier’s feelings, you were confident that her arrival hadn’t triggered your condition. Maybe it had accelerated it, but sooner or later Xavier would have fallen in love with someone else, and you would have been doomed anyway. So yeah, you didn’t want to hate Wednesday Addams ; but she definitely didn’t make things easy. 

A little less than an hour later, you found yourself walking through the school’s woods. The heated discussion with Wednesday had strangely given you enough courage to go and find Xavier, and finally explain everything to him. Weakened by your feelings? My ass! you thought. You were going to tell what was going on with you to Xavier, and to hell with the consequences on your friendship. 

You soon reached his artist shed in the middle of the woods. Its reassuring aura made you a little more at ease than the very public space of the Weathervane. Knocking on the door, you waited for Xavier to answer you. When he opened the door, you let out a loud gasp at the wound on his neck. 

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” you asked while pushing him back inside immediately before coming in. You immediately went to take a look at his bleeding jaw, carefully tilting his chin to the side. 

“Just an accident with a painting, nothing too bad,” he tried to reassure you. 

“Nothing bad? Xavier, you have claw marks bleeding on your neck, this isn’t some small scratch!” 

You could see that he was trying to brush it away, but you forced him to sit on a stool while you inspected the extent of his injuries. It didn’t look so bad, you could probably do something about it. Carefully dragging your fingers on the outlines of the claw marks you whispered a healing spell. The bleeding gradually stopped, and the cells of the skin started to slowly repair themselves. Though it started here, and the marks were still here looking like fresh scars. You gritted your teeth in frustration. With the full extent of your powers, you could have probably healed him completely. 

“That should do,” you muttered with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “So,” he said after a few seconds of silence, “guess we need to talk, uh?” 

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly, “guess we do.”

You fidgeted with your sleeve, toying with words in your mind. It was always more difficult to launch a subject when the time had come. 

“I’m not doing well,” you said, trying to resume the discussion where it had been left out back at the Weathervane, “and I’m not sure if I can really get better…on my own.”

Xavier leaned forward, fully focused on the matter. “How can I help you?”

You almost wanted to cry. He wanted so much to help you while having no idea of how bad the situation was. 

“This is…kind of complicated to talk about,” you hesitated. But to your surprise, Xavier gently took your hand into one of his bigger ones. 

“Hey,” he called softly, “you know you can tell me anything, right?” 

After a slight hesitation, you nodded slowly. Yet words didn’t seem to come out of your mouth. You started to open your mouth to finally confess, but something caught your eye. A large canvas hung on an easel, all in black and white tones. Like pulled by the invisible force of curiosity you slowly approached it, your hand slipping away from Xavier’s. As you approached and noticed who was painted you felt your heart sink into your chest. The painted figure of Wednesday playing her cello was taunting you, and it painfully reminded you of that night in Xavier’s room, when he had started to sketch it. It reminded you that you had no chance. 

Xavier called out for you from behind. But when you turned back to him, he was met with the look of your teary eyes. 

“You see, that’s why I can’t tell you,” you whispered sadly, “I can’t spoil this from you.” 

“What are you talking about?” he frowned. 

“This,” you said, gesturing at the portrait, “I can’t ruin your happiness with my burden, Xav.”

“Y/N please,” he said getting up, “please tell me what’s going on.” 

You shook your head, defeated. “I can’t,” you whispered weakly. “Sorry I- I got to go.” 

Before Xavier could react you slipped away and rushed outside of the shed. Tears were running down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less. It was clear that you could never interfere in Xavier’s feelings for Wednesday, so why bother saying anything to him at all? You heard him call you as soon as you had crossed the door but you didn’t dare to turn back and face him. He managed to grab your wrist when you were barely a few meters away from the shed. 

“Please don’t shut me out,” he begged you. You still couldn’t face him on your own, so he gently tucked on your hand, turning you to him. “Please Y/N, tell me what’s going on with you, ‘cause I can guess on my own.” 

Hesitantly, you looked up at him. Even though your eyes were blurry because of tears, you couldn’t help yourself but lose yourself in the admiration of his face. His brown eyes, so deep and full of compassion, his sharp features framed by soft hazel eyes…you wanted to print this image in your mind for however long you had still to live. Just like that night in his room, your eyes flickered to his lips. This time you didn’t hesitate, and you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. 

He flinched slightly, for the first second. But then he surprised himself thinking how soft your lips felt against his own. 

You stayed like this for long seconds. Keeping your eyes closed and savouring the moment, you then realized that Xavier wasn’t moving at all. Biting back the bitter feeling within your guts, you slowly parted from him. Xavier simply stood up there frozen in place ; not understanding why you had kissed him so suddenly. At his lack of reaction and dumbfounded expression, you wanted to cry again so badly. Instead, you looked up at him.  

“I wanted to do that at least once,” you whispered. No matter how you had tried to keep them at bay, tears were flooding down your cheeks now. 

Still stuck down in place, Xavier didn’t know what to say. But the face of his best friend, teared apart by pain and sadness, was already too much to handle for him. 

“I- I’m sorry Y/N,” he muttered, “I don’t…I like you, I truly do but…but not like this.” 

Through your tears, you tried to smile ; it was a pathetic attempt. “Yeah…I know,” you whispered weakly.

It would have been easier if you had the ability to vanish away on the spot. It would have made you avoid moving away from Xavier and returning to the school painfully slowly, each of your steps burdened by the weight of your broken heart and the knowledge that Xavier hadn’t even tried to stop you. It would also have saved you from running into Wednesday once again, and hearing her asking Xavier out for the ball in the distance. It would have. 

But you couldn’t vanish, instead, you were here shedding every tear you had along bloodied flowers, not even trying to stop either of them. 

You just had your heart shattered into a million pieces and the confirmation that there was no hope for you. You were doomed, and the flowers growing inside of your lungs would soon reach your body’s breaking point.

[Part.5] 

A/N:  Thanks everyone for your incredible support, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist: 

(no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

@apocalypticnovaa ; @libdarkheart ; @ameliabs-world ; @certifeidlovergirl ; @aeisnoa ; @cat-loves-music ; @coolchick333 ; @eringaitskill  ; @sweaterxav ; @sssleepless ;

@l4venderia ; @persipeoni ; @coldheartedmar ; @chaosfrisur ; @littlebabyk  ; @pinksirensong ; @nushy ; @raribella ; @igotanidea ; @ali-r3n ;

@cafeaueva ; @queenofshinigamis ; @xxhospital-for-soulsxx ; @imtherealslimmoony ; @one-oblivious-nerd ; @amphitritesangels ; @valckenaux ; @aliciahlewis ; @lilsunshine1092 ; @ell0ra-br3kk3r ;

@hershey2813 ; @ahmya-4 ; @katkoosik ; @maggie-da-rat ; @hopelessnessforthehopeful ; @mk-the-great ; @neenieweenie ; @steviesbergthuis  ; @rayliz793 ; @poison-ivy-737  ;

@katiemrty  ; @vanillaarr ;  @corpsebridenightamare ; @ghswlz ; @siriusblacksl0ver ; @poppyalice2001 ; @mypsychoticlove ; @jointherebellion215 ; @siriwhitewolf​ ; @miinnttyy​ ;

@teaganthemorningstar ; @oblivion-void ; @fandomstoryreader25 ; @darkdaydreamer ; @engenelxver ; @maddiechapman15 ; @hannahnikohl ; @pajerita19 ; @i-like-trains ; @tinafuentes ;

@slngarza ; @lqveharrington ; @honethatty12 ; @users09 ; @honestlyka ;

Usernames not found by Tumblr and notified by DM:

@flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo3475 @engenelxver @2000bitf @hes-club

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

[sirfrogsworth]

It's hard to be nostalgic about Tumblr without remembering my friend Tru.

Truett McGowan.

What a fantastic name.

We met each other because we were both tech geeks following Leo Laporte. He was the very first live streamer. Originally he hosted a TechTV cable show called The Screen Savers. But once G4 took over and focused more on video games, Leo's show was cancelled and he was looking for a new way to broadcast content.

So he built a studio near his home and created his own infrastructure in order to live stream video on the internet. He called his new show "This Week in Tech" or TWiT for short.

Along with his new streaming venture he created a TWiT community using an open source microblogging platform called Laconica. It was a form of Twitter that you could create specifically for a single community. Basically a custom niche Twitter feed. I was trying to be a web designer back then, so I created custom themes for Lacnonica.

This was my own personal theme for a website that I ended up never launching.

Leo called his custom Twitter, "The TWiT Army." And I was his graphic designer and webmaster. I made all of the cute little graphics for the website.

I also did fun holiday themes...

For the Thanksgiving theme, if you hovered over the Turkey it would change to being cooked.

I also took it upon myself to photoshop a little army helmet on the avatar of every single user of the site.

This was the zombie avatar I made for myself during Halloween.

The TWiT Army was also where I started posting my first attempts at Photoshop comedy. Many of them related to The TWiT Army.

And The TWiT Army is where I met Tru. He used a space invader avatar. I made him a couple of different versions.

You may have seen his avatar on the sidebar of my main Tumblr.

We became fast friends. We finished each other's jokes. We talked pretty much all day, every day. He loved Apple back then. I was strictly PC at the time. So we debated about that quite a bit. He would probably be astonished I have a MacBook and that I really love it too.

Our friendship lived in a little text box. We never talked outside of instant messages. But it was one of the most profound friendships of my life. I loved Tru just as much as any friend I've ever known in real life.

Tru started blogging on this brand new site called Tumblr. He reviewed apps for the iPod Touch. Not the iPhone, as that wasn't yet a thing.

I made the banner for his Tumblr.

He kept trying to get me to join Tumblr, but I was busy trying to create my own custom comedy website. But my site kept getting more and more complicated and I could never quite finish it. I was trying to arrange guest authors and create 3 months of content and I was always futzing with the theme and never happy with it.

I was getting frustrated that I could never launch my perfect comedy website and Tru suggested just making a Tumblr and posting funny stuff so I could be creative and have an outlet until my big site was ready to launch.

Little did I know Tumblr would end up being my big comedy website. Eventually I abandoned months of work and just stayed on Tumblr. All of my success here is pretty much because that little space invader pestered me to join when I was being stubborn.

Unfortunately, as some may have figured out already, the story gets sad from there. Tru mentioned briefly that he had a heart defect, but he never said it was serious. He acted like it was no big deal so I never thought too much about it.

We always talked through instant message and email, so we never exchanged phone numbers or addresses or anything like that. Tru was a very private person so he never even published an image of his face online. I only knew him as a space invader.

One day I woke up and sent him a message and got no reply. He usually woke up before me and answered as soon as I said hello. This had been our routine for nearly a year.

An hour went by. Two hours. Three hours.

It was odd for him not to respond for that long. I was really worried but all of my TWiT friends told me I was being paranoid. But there was a huge knot in my stomach telling me otherwise.

But then those hours turned into days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. My worry grew exponentially as more time passed. I didn't know what to do. I tried finding his family. I even looked into hiring a private investigator. I don't know if I have ever felt a combination of depression & anxiety that intense.

In my heart, I knew what had happened. I knew that heart defect took his life. He was only 26 and it just didn't seem fair. But the not knowing for certain ravaged my mental health. Before all of this I had lost nearly 90 pounds and I gained it all back.

I think maybe a year or so later I found a friend of his who knew him in real life. They were finally able to confirm my suspicions. He passed away from his heart condition. That was my first real experience with grief. But I was so thankful for that bit of closure. I was finally able to let go of my anxiety and mourn him properly.

But Tru gave me such a wonderful gift. He pushed me to just start making things. To stop stalling and just create things to make people smile.

And you all probably know the rest from there.