#bullshit. absolute bullshit. you can't care about anyone without them giving you the finger and leaving you

[kairithemang0]

it's so damn sad that i have 500+ of you and no one gives a shit that i am curled up on the floor crying holding my old stuffed cat because it's the only thing that hasn't left me and trying not to have a full on break down and jump out a window, but you will just at the chances to correct my shitty behaviors the moment i even momentarily fuck up. suck my dick/not a threat. jesus christ

i am tired. take what i say tonight with a grain of salt. i can't type due to the fact every ounce of liquid in my body is pouring out through my eyes while i try to convince myself life is worth living.

[void-occupation]

More Ranger's Apprentice Headcanons Because I Have No Self-Control (featuring bullet points!!)

I'm back on my bullshit, so buckle up buckaroos, it's gonna be a bumpy ride

ALSO, before I forget, I received an anon ask about if it was okay to write about my headcanons and such, and that is absolutely 100% okay!! I would love to see other people's interpretations of my thoughts, that's why I put them out there, so please feel free to interpret them as write about them, just give me credit, and let me know so I can see it!

Halt snorts when he laughs, but only if you really get him going. When he does, he'll turn bright red and try to cover his face, which works all well and good if the reason he's laughing so hard is because someone caught him super off-guard with a joke. However, nine times out of ten, he's only laughing that hard because someone decided to test his ticklishness (usually Crowley, but the others do it too once they find out), which means he can't cover his face without almost immediately moving his hands to grab the wrists of whoever's attacking him out of reflex

Speaking of Halt being ticklish, he would never admit it even under threat of death, but he actually doesn't mind being tickled. It shows him that people care enough about him to get close and try to make him laugh. He also finds it kind of nice to just be able to let loose and laugh when he usually can't out of fear of either vulnerability or tarnishing his reputation. Needless to say, if he lets you get away with tickling him, it's the ultimate sign of trust (kind of like a cat laying so its stomach is exposed and trusting you not to attack it)

When Halt is focusing on something, he has a habit of sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth (which I believe is something Horace actually noticed in KoC)

Halt has a bad habit of biting the sides of his fingers when he's nervous. If Pauline or Crowley happen to notice, they'll gently bat Halt's hands away from his mouth

If there is ever a mission that requires disguised infiltration in a high-class setting, Pauline and Crowley will almost always be the ones to handle it - and not just because of how well they coordinate off each other and work together. The main reason is because they both noticed how tense and jumpy being in that sort of environment made Halt after their first such mission. He never brought it up to them, and until KoC, they didn't understand the reason why (though they both had their theories)

Due to his royal upbringing, Halt is actually a very good singer and can play the piano as well (I don't know if the piano existed at this point in time. It's fiction. leT ME HAVE THIS)

Halt said that he can't face a plate of shellfish without throwing up, but he was underselling just how much even seeing a serving of shellfish deeply disturbs him. He'll usually start having a panic attack within the first few minutes, his mind telling him that the food is laced in poison, and that he is 16 years old and back in Clonmel.

Halt and Will both have severe PTSD, but only Halt is ashamed by it. At first, Will was ashamed of the way he was affected by his trauma, but Halt and his other friends shut that down really quick. Halt however, never had anyone who knew about what he went through, so he never had anyone to tell him that his struggling was okay. He was afraid that Will would end up the same way as he did, which is why he fought so vehemently against Will thinking he was doing a "bad job" of handling his trauma

Halt is very much a "do as I say, not as I do" kind of teacher. I mean look at him. This man's never even heard of self-preservation, but god forbid anyone he cares about pulls some self-sacrificing bullshit (that he pulls maybe 30 seconds later)

[flower-seller]

Oooohoohoo that cats analogy is very cute, like when two cats walk next to each other and bonk heads/curl tails (and ur not sure if its adoration or frustration lol)

That was really cool! And I'll throw some more at ya, all optional and no rush of puzzling anything out 💕

What does love mean to them? (ie gentle, fiery, enduring, painful?)

Love languages?

Favorite places, ways to be touched? (ie scratched, scalp massage, biting)

Monogamy or polyamory?

What is their moral code, and what circumstances could lead them to break it?

😘💕

Hi this one is…so, so late and I apologize for that BUT it is here it is for what it is worth! OTL 

Thanks for your patience, Praz!

What does love mean to them?

🌸 Euphorbia: 

Solidity and warmth, someone to lean on. Safety....even if she (past an, ahem, certain mountain-esque point) doesn't always get that feeling from him, she still loves him. It's all of it to her; gentle, fiery, enduring, painful, sweet and bitter and just...everything.

Basically, even if he's hurt and betrayed her, this fucked up little man is still her everything and while she isn't going to take his bullshit laying down she still cares deeply enough about him to try and wrangle him and understand what is wrong. Like, god, I bet at times out of nowhere during that 10 year gap they're apart she wonders if he ate that day.

✨️ Volo:

 For Volo... Love would be for someone to accept him as he is, not what he appears to be, but to acknowledge his flaws and mistakes, his scars, and still find something worth value. He's a very guarded person and for someone to be able to break away the facade he's built upon for his entire life; that is love. 

It's simple and a bit self indulgent on his part, but that's what we enjoy about him

Love Languages?

🌸 Euphorbia: 

Hmm… hers is probably gifts to a lesser extent than Volo. Even if she can't remember her past where her situation was similar, she is living where her means are not Great so to give something without it being an exchange is a big deal. No one gave you shit for free in water country so to her it's another little show of undiluted affection. i.e. candies and homemade preserves she gives him and the gold nugget she reverse mugs him with. Also, words of affirmation are a close second.

✨️ Volo: 

Volo's love language is gifts naturally. Further adds to the folklore/yokai vibes he's got now too in addition to his occupation, it's just too good not to be his exact love language. Another one though is definitely teasing, friendly jabs here and there for the people close enough to him to know he only jokes. Sometimes.

Favorite places/ways to be touched?

🌸 Euphorbia: Touch is a bit weird for Euph, since you've definitely got to be on the tier of friend or higher for her to willingly allow it. Though if she is in the village and someone taps her shoulder to get her attention or something she isn't going to lash out, since she is trying to play nice to avoid being tossed to the wilds with amnesia in an unfamiliar land.

As far as more intimate touch. We kind of touched on (heh) preferred places and ways to be touched with a kink meme. (Not posted but maybe… someday? It's not visually explicit, just a checklist.) But I imagine anyone else but Volo making her aware of how small she is would be met with grrrhisss, but definitely is not opposed to feeling his entire hand wrap around a wrist or shoulder or whatnot. Very much a case of "I am showing you my neck because I feel secure, please don't break it"

✨️ Volo: 

Volo is touch starved. And while there are spots that he is self conscious about, namely scars, this dude will absolutely melt at the slightest touch truthfully. He’s really big on… Hand holding. In both normal and sexual settings, He wants to twine his fingers together to show that he’s still there and that he loves her, always. Also pretty into his chest being played with and ass grabs oop— 

He’s got a nice ass and he knows it. 

He also loooves his hair being touched, his hair being a bit of a symbol to his progress in life. Once super long and flowy (longer than even current Volo’s), it was once cut down to about ear length against his own will. So it being as long as it is once more, this man feels a lot of emotion about it. 

One big thing to note; He does not like the touch of strangers in any regard. Especially after certain points in his life, he really does not care for random people even brushing shoulders with him accidentally. It makes him nervous, and nervousness leads into his anger which… Don’t touch this man without permission, he may recoil, and if you’re lucky he’ll only grumble about it. Especially his hands if he doesn’t know you. With how self conscious he is about his claws… 

There is another like. Super sensitive spot on his dude, but I shan’t reveal that yet… 😏

Monogamy or polyamory?

🌸 Euphorbia:

Hmm… she is probably mostly monogamous, it would take a very special someone since she's pretty stuck on this guy. She's already prone to a little jealousy, so I think anything beyond like an unattached threesome or whatever would take some work and probably give her indescribable amounts of heartburn first 

✨️ Volo:

YEAH YEAH they handshake pretty much

I could see like a political alliance threesome or maybe a secret spying one but not anything legitimately more than business. Even then I know he wouldn’t ever go through with full blown sex with anyone other than Euph for a plethora of reasons (most of which I will not say just yet but), but yeah teasing and toying to get information out of someone before tossing them aside is not off the table. 

Moral code and breaking it?

🌸 Euphorbia:

Her morals, outwardly, are pretty good. And actually not horrendously bad either. She's definitely willing to do some sketchy shit and feel minimally bad about it depending on what it is. "Be nice to me/my friend or I'll punch your lights out" and "good thing the nearest village is so far away because you fucked up and I'm going to break your wrist now and don't want someone to come running" type shit

As for what would make her break a moral code... your standard desperation, that can make anyone act unwise. That desperation can definitely range in flavor though, instinctual or meditated on.

Euph is pretty stubborn as a previous kiri nin from ye old days where the village was basically self-cannibalizing itself politically and maybe even literally. So having resolve and the will to keep moving forward even if you have to become monstrous to do so is far from an unknown concept. But...she also has come to value softer and sweeter things. So it's a bit complicated.

I guess the answer is just fuck around and find out ALSKDH

✨️ Volo:

Volo is… We all know Volo. He's a bit of an enigma in that of himself. His moral code, mind you his moral code, is quite different from the black and white common views of the world. Most nothing to him is inherently good or evil, everything is chaos, nothing and everything matters all at once. As such, his code of conduct varies vastly from situation to situation, there's obviously the favorable things to do, the more socially acceptable things, but seeing himself as an outlier to the status quo, he's more flexible to make choices that more typical people would… Probably not do?? The key point in understanding his mindset is that he doesn't value life the way most do. 

That being said, breaking his own code would be not only incredibly difficult, but also quite the event. The most likely causes for him to act out of his typical would be one of two things; Wrath, or Envy. Seeing as he is a cocky and confident bastard, it isn't too terribly often that he loses his temper truly. But when he does, boy does he. Easily comparable to a raging fire, once he's mad mad, it's hard to get him to calm down and will act out of instinct. 

Jealousy, on the other hand, makes the man act unwise. Often does jealousy lead to his more… Questionable choices, leaning on the dumb side. Often these choices go against his instinct.

[elisethetraveller]

Continued from; collidingxworlds for new Editor

“Yeah, him,” Five confirmed with a snort and an eyeroll. “But I wouldn’t put it past his partner to do it too. Just she wouldn’t eat them, she’d just do it out of cruel amusement and throw them away.”

Cha-Cha was definitely more level-headed than Hazel and less easy to sway. That didn’t mean that the man was merciless than her, but at least you could talk to him and he would listen, if you had something important enough to say. The other one blindly followed their orders without allowing the shadow of a second thought to touch her.

The joking question brought his attention back on the woman and he shot her an unimpressed look, clearly not amused by her words. He took it as a sign that she didn’t believe him and that she was making fun of him. Or, even worse, being condescending. It was irritating, but he didn’t care. As long as she didn’t insist on “calling his parents” or any bullshit of the sort, he would have put up with it. He wasn’t planning on staying long anyway. The clock was ticking towards the End, far too fast for his liking.

“Under…for now,” he chose to reply, a hint of sarcasm colouring his voice. Then, noticing her peering past the window, he added: “Don’t worry, if those two haven’t showed up in here yet, it means that they lost me. And that I haven’t left a trail of blood leaning up to your door.”

He had done his best to keep his wound from dripping past the fabric of his clothes, but he had been too busy running to make absolutely sure.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt is that you can never be too careful. Even the people who shelter you can turn on you or betray any moment,” he retorted then, sending a glare in her direction, the hardness in his eyes definitely not fitting his young looks. “I’m not a fool.”

Still, he took his hand off his side, allowing her the space she needed to work. When her fingers touched his injured flesh, it took him a great deal of self-control not to wince, but he was soon distracted by the odd sensation that spread on his skin. It was like a light tingling and he swore that he could almost feel it move as it watched it sewing itself back together.

Once it was done, he reached out to touch the spot where his wound had been poking and prodding at it. It was almost as if it had never been there, if it hadn’t been for the drying blood on his side and clothes.

“I’ll give it to you, this is a pretty impressive power,” he offered, tone flat but genuine. “Any chance you have a sweet snack or something of the sort? I need sugar.”

The mage snickered and shook her head at the younger's response. "Are they cartoon villains, or do they just aspire to be so?" Despite her joking words, there was tension in her form. Elise was still on alert, keeping an ear and an eye out for anyone who might come bursting in with weapons. And on her new guest. She still couldn't figure out why he felt different. The response of him being older than he looked explained a little, but not nearly enough.

"Good to know I am still older than you," Elise concluded with a nod to herself. Despite her reservations about the current situation, the other was clearly more on edge than her. Which was understandable, considering armed people were chasing him. "If you say so. Though you should get going soon. I imagine my neighbours have called the police after hearing the gunshots, and I can't imagine you want to try to explain whatever is happening to the police." The hardness in his eyes was pointedly ignored. Any reservations he had were well-founded.

"I don't believe you are." She pointed out. "Otherwise, those people would have shot you by now. Despite the ridiculous costumes, they looked like they knew how to aim."

The wound was not a complicated one; he was lucky. It took her only a few seconds to patch it up. The flesh stitched itself together from the inside out. Withdrawing her hand, there wasn't even blood on her palm, though she nonetheless wiped it against her skirt. "It comes in handy every now and then." Elise agreed with a smile as she stepped away from him again. "Especially when there is a shot-out in your apartment building." At his question, the mage gestured for him to follow her.

"I don't think I got your name. I am Elise." Walking through the apartment, she led the way to the kitchen. "Will juice do the trick?" Recently Elise went on an exploration tour of the juice section in her local grocery store. She found a glass and poured him some without waiting for a response. "If not, I think I have cookies here somewhere. Though it might take me a minute to find them." Despite the meagre size of the kitchen, most of the cupboards were empty, which oddly meant she couldn't find things. Most of the apartment was bare, with only the bare essentials present; a bed, table, chairs and a bookshelf with books.

( @collidingxworlds )

[vannybarber]

Know Your Place

Summary: Christopher Jamal Evans puts your ass in place.

Chris Jamal Evans x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, cursing, aggressive behavior (nothing serious), mentions of cheating, implied smut, degrading.

This is based off of Barbershop: The Next Cut with Terri, Rashad, and Draya, with their whole situation😂.

"Just get in the damn car and meet me at the house. We're not doing this here."

"Fine!" You rush around to your car door and slam it shut once you get inside. You watch Chris go to his, also slamming it shut but not for the same reason as you. You were more so the reason.

Starting the car and driving off with him right on your tail, you turn the music up to drown out the many cars that honk at your recklessness and poor wheel skills. If only they knew, they would be acting just like you.

You had come over to the building where Chris was shooting a movie with his female costar, Melanie. You absolutely despised her because she often came onto Chris. Both infront of you and when you weren't around. Of course he shot her down every time because he knows better. He knew you weren't the one to be played with.

But today, when you didn't see him as soon as you walked inside the shoot, you scan the room for Melanie. Not seeing her either, you began to roam around through the halls. You look in a room and see his stuff on a couch inside. You walk into the room calling his name.

"Chris? Baby, where you at?" You check in the bathroom and its empty. "Boy, I got your nasty seafood salad. Where the hell are you?" You scan the room one more time before smacking your lips and heading to the door.

Chris was in the closet changing when Melanie came in trying to feel up on him. He was getting ready to finally cuss her out, but he heard you yelling for him and so he freaked, shutting the door. He specifically told her not to make a sound and she followed orders, up until the last minute.

As you hit the threshold, you hear something hit the floor. The sound seemed to have come from the closet. You pause, scared at first because it was evident that no one was in the room except you. But then you grow suspicious because Chris and that bitch were both missing. You turn around slowly and stalk towards the door.

Chris was fuming when she knocked the box over, but then started to freak when he heard you walking over to the closet door. He gave her the look with a mix of panic and 'I'm gonna fucking kill you'. He sees the door handle turn and prepares for your wrath because you damn sure were gonna give it to him.

You open the door and there was your man and Melanie. Her hands were covering her mouth, eyes wide. Your eyes relocate to Chris and his shirt was halfway on his torso. He clambers to get it fully in, stepping towards you and away from her.

"Babe, just listen and you'll understand everything. She came in while I was changing and-" he doesn't get a chance to finish, for your voice overpowered his.

"You got five seconds to explain to me what the fuck you're doing." You hand is still on the door, not planning on letting them out the closet just yet. Chris was confused, but discerned that you weren't talking to him. You were talking to Melanie. He looks back at her and she was now biting her nail, clearly anxious.

"Look, Y/N, I really don't want any problems." She is trying to be straight about it, but her voice is fastened with fear. She knew exactly what you were capable of and she still is trying to bullshit you.

"You don't want want no problems? You've been trying to sleep with my man since the first day you found out you were working with him!" You must look like boo boo the fool for her to think she was pulling this shit on you.

"And as for you Christopher," you turn towards him, jabbing your finger in his chest, "what the hell are you thinking? Are y'all just lying to me and actually messing around?" You had no problem whooping both their asses.

"Y/N no! Listen, she came inside the closet while I was changing and I was going to kick her out, but I heard you coming and I just...freaked out." He's trying to dissolve the situation, but is only making it worse.

"You instead of coming out, you decide to stay in there with her? You see how this is worse right? You're just giving her the benefit to think she could even get with you. This is entertainment for her. Don't you realize that?" Now your hand was off the door and balled into a fist because you were 2.5 seconds from losing it.

"Baby, I was going to put my foot down this time. I know its long overdue, but I didn't want any issues with the people I work with. And I should've realized how unfair that was to you. I'm sorry. But don't think I would ever cheat on you." He grabs your arm and pushes you back so he could get out the closet.

"Yeah, you damn right. All this could've been avoided. She's harassing you. You need to report her ass!" You snag your arm away from him and point back at her, who's now trying to ease out of the closet. You catch her and she runs off, you not far behind. You damn sure were not a runner, but you were going super sonic right now.

She turns down she same way you came to find them and Chris is right on your ass too. You guys get to the front of the building and you lunge for her, but no contact was made for Chris had you in a hold. You brawl against his wide chest and eventually give up when he doesn't let go.

People are watching in absolute shock and some even were laughing their asses off. It would've been even funnier if Chris had let you get one hit in. Of course that didn't happen since he scooped you up with minimal effort.

"Y/N chill! Stop, you're making a fucking scene!" He grabs on your flailing arms, yanking them back.

"I don't give a shit! Let me get her. Just one good time," you plead and scream at the same time. He literally drags you away outside with great struggle since you weren't giving in. When he got you out there, you accepted your defeat and he let you go, watching you extra closely in case you pulled a fast one.

"You should've let me get her! Why the hell you stop me?!" He runs his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated and very much embarrassed. But you could care less. She needed her ass whooped.

"It's not worth it. We need to go now!"

"I don't have to go anywhere!" You could give less of a fuck if the onlookers labeled you as 'the angry black woman'. Because infact, you are a black woman. And damn right you were angry.

"Just get in the damn car and meet me at the house. We're not doing this here!"

"Fine!"

After reminiscing over the lovely previous moments, you pull up at your even lovelier home. You hop out the car and open the gate. Walking back to the car you peek and see Chris with his arm against the window, leaning on it and watching you. For sure he had a headache by now.

Instead of pulling up all the way into the driveway, you park at the end, leaving no room for Chris to drive in.

"Really? Pull all the way in!" You sit for a minute with your arms crossed for a bit of rebellion before complying like a child. Only because you didn't want to walk the extra way to the door of course. When you park again, Chris pulls in and gets out to shut the gate.

You were already unlocking the door and stepping in, but before you could slam it in his face, he was right behind you. You toss the keys and kick off your shoes.

"Where are you going?" You hear him call from the front of the house.

"None of your business." You were just going to the fridge to get your pineapple juice. You drink it almost every single day. And you definitely needed some right now.

"Okay we need to discuss what the fuck just happened. What the hell was that Y/N?" He's standing across the kitchen island from you staring in anger.

"Well for one, I caught you in a closet half naked with that bitch after I called your name repeatedly. Then she's playing in my face and you're trying to defend her! You really need an explanation for my actions, Chris?" You close the bottle and slam it on the counter.

"Look Y/N, I explained to you what happened. I am sorry. I knew that if I had came out that closet with her, you'd still react the same way, probably even worse. I was literally fearing for my life, no joke." He puts his hands up in surrender. You almost laugh.

"I rather you just have came out and told me straight up. Yeah, I would be mad of course. Who wouldn't? But you made it more difficult yourself." You still have an attitude and even though he apologized, you still wanted to be mad.

"Baby, I tell you you're beautiful everyday. Why? Because I want you to know that no other woman could ever be at the level you are for me. I want you to know that you're the only one I see and there isn't anyone else for me." He's now standing infront of you, his 6'0 figure imposing over your frame.

You can't and won't lie that those words had you in your feels. You swear, Geminis really are sweet talkers. You could've gave in right then. But not just yet.

"You sound like a real bitch right now." You fold your arms and look at him with testy eyes. You slightly regret saying that because what he said was genuine. But who are you without some back talk?

His eyes go caliginous. You've only seen this a one time when you've stepped out of line with him. Your big mouth could argue for days, but you never held a grudge. You kind of forced yourself to keep going as if you were still upset. Stubborn was an understatement.

You scratch your straightened hair nervously before flattening it back down. You internally hope it wasn't obvious that you lamented what you had just said.

"I already apologized to you and explained what happened. Now you can be mature and we can have a real conversation or you can be childish and act like you're still upset and we can end it right here." He steps closer to you, if that's even humanly possible. "But this is will be the first and last time you call me a bitch. Got it?"

He's breathing heavily on your face. If only you could see your face right now. It would read shock, with a bit of fear. He never checked you like this and let you get away with a lot. But this right here, was well deserved. But the way he's over you and his voice lowering with a sharp tone had you...turned on.

Something about him putting you in place made you wet and excited. All the fear had vanished almost immediately. You finally respond.

"Yes," you say quietly, nodding your head. "I'm sorry." Your eyes remained on him looking up through your lashes nibbling your lip. If only you knew what it was doing to him.

The sight of your body go automatically submissive to him after he got firm with you threw him in a complete frenzy. He was dominant most times, but you had many moments where you didn't back down to a challenge and took the lead. You not clapping back and apologizing threw him off a slight bit, but did not disappoint him. It turned him on.

"Good girl." He grabs your arm, spins you around so that your back is turned to him and bends down next to your ear.

"Go into the room, take off everything but your panties and lie on the bed. Mkay?" He moved his hands behind your arm to your lower back. You might as well save yourself the embarrassment and take off your panties too because once he sees the tropical storm, it's a wrap burrito. But you nod your head in compliance.

He gives you a smack on the butt and pushes you forward. You walk the rest of the way to the room and follow his exact orders. You remove every clothing item except the saltwater cloth covering your most needy part. You lay on the bed and wait for him.

He comes in a few moments later and eyes you down, making sure you followed his instructions. Of course you would. He stands in front of the bed and starts to remove his clothes. The entire time his eyes alternate from your body to your eyes. It made you nervous, but still excited.

"I'm very much used to your little tantrums and what not, but there's a limit. And when you pass that limit and step out of line, you need to be taught a lesson." He's in just his briefs by the end of his sentence and crawls in the bed.

You adjust yourself onto your back, shamelessly welcoming him to help himself to you. He positions in between your legs and lowers his face to yours, lips gliding against yours and pulling back when you try to kiss him. You pout and he smirks a little.

"Tell me what you want, honey" he whispers as he rubs up your leg to your thigh, grazing his fingers against your soaked panties. Just when you thought you couldn't get any wetter. Damn.

"I want you to touch me. Please." Your hands are gripping the sheets just thinking about his hands on your body. You completely forgot about messing up your hair as you throw your head back when he starts circling his fingers on your clit.

"I'm starting to think that this isn't very punishing for you, sweetheart." He picks up pace and reaches for your boob, kneading it full in his palms. "You seem to really be enjoying it. A little too much."

You weren't even listening to him, only chasing your orgasm, rolling your hips against his forceful touch. You successfully make it a few seconds to cumming before he snatches his finger away. You pick your head up right away, looking appalled.

"Why'd you stoooop?" you whine out. He looks at you innocently.

"Hmm that's just something us bitches like to do." Before you could respond, he flips you over and smacks your right cheek. "These have been on way too long." He pulls your panties off quicker than Pietro Maximoff. Tossing them to the floor, he starts his teasing.

"Damn, Y/N. All this is for me? If this doesn't tell me you loved the beginning of your lesson, I don't know what does."

He drags his fingers through your wet lips, coating them with your wetness. He brings his hands to his face to taste the mess you made for him.

"Hmm. That pineapple juice is kicking in fast."

The entire time he's talking, you're moving around coding him to stop teasing you and do something to make you feel good.

"You really are a desperate whore, huh?" You moan in the sheets in agreement. You were never into name calling, but it was something with Chris that made you love it.

He lowers down to your pussy, breathe frisking over it. You shiver and wait for him to start.

"As much as both you and I would love this, you don't deserve it. So ass up." You internally start cursing him out, calling him all things forbidden. But you comply and slightly lift your lower half.

Chris gets directly behind you and lines up with your entrance. When did he even take his briefs off? You inhale sharply at the contact and moan as he slips inside you with little to no effort. He fills you quick, starting his thrusts right away.

Your left cheek is against the mattress and both hands are gripping the sheets.

"Oh my- fuck!"

"How's it feel baby?" He asks you, going deeper at every thrust back inside you. Between the loud claps of your bodies, your pornographic moans and the sounds of your WAP, he knew the answer.

"It feels so good Chris" you manage to get out between breathes that were suddenly hard to take. You suddenly get a hard slap on your right cheek, making you squeal.

"That's not my name." You quickly correct yourself.

"Sorry..Daddy."

"Look at this" he starts thrusting faster, both of you not far from climax.

"Just an hour ago you were bitchin' about me and now you're basically grovelling at my feet. You can barely make a word. I guess I'm not such a bitch now, huh? " He locks your arms behind you and you automatically lift your ass up further, helping him slide in you even easier.

"No Daddy, I'm s-sorry." He groans and grabs a fistful of your hair and leans down to your ear. Normally you would be pissed because he touched your hair, especially since it was just done. But you could give less of a damn right now.

"Yeah I bet you are. Would a bitch be fucking you like this? Hm?" He pounded into you hard at every word. Your face in the mattress, you let out a scream that would have the neighbors dialing 911.

"No, baby- oh GOD" you yell, right at your peak. Just a couple more thrusts away and you were gone. Chris recognized that yell. He wanted to send you off right.

"Go ahead and cum for me baby. But just remember,"

He was right behind you and close himself.

"No matter how smart you get with me, at the end of the day, you're always gonna be a little slut for me." The last 4 words sent you over the edge and you cum all over him. He doesn't fall short and fills up the rest of you.

"Fuuuck" he let's out as his seed spills inside you.

His body collapses next to you and you find the energy to move your body. You turn and look at him with this dumb smile on your face. He reciprocates with the same dumb smile and pats down your hair. You slap his arm, turning your nose up at him.

"Ow. Why'd you do that for?" He rubs his now red arm.

"That's what you get for messing up my hair. You're gonna give me money to get it done again." Remembering, you hit his arm again.

"Baby, what the hell?"

"That's for also making me leave my pineapple juice out the fridge."

Idek what I was doing here 😭 This is the kind of stuff I daydream about, but it never looks as good written out 🥴

masterlist

[yamanaka-shin]

SuiKa! :D

OKAY FINALLY TIME TO BREAK INTO THIS

- who's the cuddler?

both of them are guilty of this but it's on purpose on his behalf yet accidental on hers. Suigetsu is an odd person and super obnoxious but gets wicked dedicated to the few loved ones he manages to get for himself and sticks like glue to them. he has never actually been afraid of Karin despite her being foaming at the mouth rabid. nor would he ever fight back physically. the second this fucker finds out the whole life story that led to her joining Orochimaru it would kind of stick with him though he'd not bring it up for worry that it'll cause even more problems. it slowly shifts his view of her over the years from someone who's just made to be violent by design to someone who has had to be that way to survive. and he respects the fact that despite everything bad that's happened, she's still around, and yeah she's entitled to be as prickly as she wants. when they actually manage to fall into a relationship that would genuinely make people wonder, should anyone actually find it out, that would be when he'd get more touchy and cuddly with her. she puts up with it only half the time. Karin, on the other hand, will cuddle up to him in bed or when she's tired in general or after some kind of big event happens that could be called an emergency, so something physically and emotionally draining, because it's nice to have someone to lean on. however. the second she catches herself doing that with him she'll correct it very quickly. won't hit him, maybe just shoot a disgraced look and say nothing, and pull away from him. it gets better with time though it does take YEARS before either of them are on the same page.

- who makes the bed?

when either of them care about something so trivial, it's absolutely Karin. and she'll give him hell about it but not actually put any malice behind the words. this fucker spent literal years in a tank of water during his formative years. and after that they were criminals on the run. who KNOWS how he grew up before being captured. so he gets a pass for this. even if it's annoying in the moment every time she decides to fix the sheets and blanket. he is willing to help out later in life though, readily without being asked, since he learns the small things that make life easier for her and he'd rather see her feeling better than feeling irritated or unhappy.

- who wakes up first?

they're both early risers. he's never been one to sleep on since as a kid he was often up with the sun in order to train with or go on missions with Mangetsu. Suigetsu is not lazy even if he's kind of a coward sometimes. and the sort of pleasure seeking he is would be the kind you get from committing violence, not the kind you get from staying in bed all day. Karin doesn't really have a reason to be up early. it's just how she is. he's not complaining because if she's not busy she'll maybe watch him practice with one of his swords or they'll bullshit talk back and forth to pass the time until they have something to do. they're better company to each other in the morning before the day has really begun, at least for the first few years.

- who has the weirder taste in music?

- you cannot tell me it wouldn't be Suigetsu. Kiri nin are already built different, and that includes the shit they enjoy. Karin is normal in few ways but I feel like this is one of those ways. plus, he's an Aquarius, aka the king of weird. HOWEVER. she's a Gemini. and a Gem/Aqua relationship means they feed into each other's weird habits and bullshit. eventually she's listening to his weird music and knows all the damn lyrics.

- who is more protective?

If you put one goddamn finger on Karin, Suigetsu will kill you. no warning no words no hesitation. you will be a stain on the dirt. this fucker goes hard, truly ride or die, for the ones who matter to him. and if they're Together then it's even more severe. can't lose her like he lost Mangetsu, now can he? canonically even though he's a little bitch he did miss the amount of noise that came with having her around aka the noise that comes from their arguing and her weird comments about Sasuke. give it enough time and a better atmosphere and I'm sure the sort of protective feelings that would spring up would be legendary. I've said to Des before. I want him to teach her swordsmanship so she'll always be able to defend herself since yes she CAN kick ass but her offensive skills are still kinda lacking. gotta help build on those. in the case he isn't around to beat any asses that put her in danger and no one else he can trust is around either.

- who sings in the shower

- again they both do this shit. though with him it's even funnier because he could fucking literally melt and you'd not see anyone in the shower while it's going but you'd HEAR him. suddenly your house is haunted and the ghost is enjoying a nice shower. ahhhh that's not a ghost that's just a wet bitch from Kirigakure, my bad. it's simply a quirk he picks up over time. and probably from her, no less, because she absolutely does it all the time. and he'll laugh at her when he goes to greet her as soon as she's out. but it's not malicious, he's just trying to rile her up. it works. but also he picks up the habit from her. good way to pass the time. these two pick up A LOT from each other, in fact. Air Sign Solidarity.

- who cries during movies?

- VERY much Karin. overly emotional Uzumaki habits show vividly in her. even if she pretends to be this cocky bitch around people she's not fond of, the second she's in her comfort zone the Uzumaki just jumps out. and a good emotional act of terrorism aka a sad movie will get her going. which is why she prefers to watch alone. no one needs to see that kind of display, mind your business.

- who spends the most while out shopping?

- these two are criminals so they steal at least half the shit they own. however, if they can't get away with it at all, it's Karin. and usually on non-essential items. because she's a bit of a decadent bitch. proud of her. live your best life, my love. Suigetsu still opts to steal even if he might get caught. though you can bet in the past he's had moments of filling the fridge fill of yogurt he bought because he went shopping while hungry. they got him a personal mini fridge for future incidents of this.

- who kisses more roughly?

he's tempted as hell to do this but actually neither of them do. he's aware, eventually, of her trauma involving being bitten and how rough people have been with her against her wishes. so he tries not to go overboard even if it takes some maneuvering with those lethal teeth. and she's super passionate sure but in love I feel like she'd melt so easily at a display of romance. hungry and sorta rough kisses happen sometimes, but it's not her norm. every one in a while they'll go a little feral on each other though, as long as it's discussed beforehand.

- who is more dominant?

two words. Uzumaki Karin. for all of his crazy, Suigetsu doesn't like to get involved with things and battles he knows he can't win or get an advantage in. and frankly? letting her be dominant is sexy to him. she's turned her rabid aggression into serious devotion and that does things to him. someone so capable of violence being so capable, too, of tenderness...and only for him? oh lord. yeah he has no arguments here. it's hot.

- how I rate this ship?

- this is a fucking 777/10 should have been canon and I still pray it WILL be some fucking how this is my otp that's tied with SaiIno it means everything to me

[wonglix]

➺ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

⤷ y/n x jeno (+ best friend!renjun)

⤷ you and jeno have been endlessly flirting with each other for months now, neither of you taking the next step of officially asking the other out - and it’s driving everyone around you insane. imagine renjun’s frustration when he gets stuck in a broken elevator with you two lovebirds for hours on end.

⤷ fluff

⤷ 2.0k words

⤷ warning: cursing

"y/n, you're here to visit me, your best friend, not that little loverboy of yours," renjun groaned after you asked him if jeno was around somewhere as well. a small chuckle blew past your lips, and you lightly smack renjun's arm, the boy looking at you with an unamused expression. "he's not my lover boy, injun." he looks at you with raised brows, "but you wish he were, and that's the point you thirsty little shit." you gasp, both of you bursting out in laughter. renjun wasn't wrong, quite the opposite actually: it's clear to most people at first glance that you and jeno are very much interested in each other. no one knows why you two don't just finally start dating; the constant shy glances and flirty conversations getting on everyone's nerves.

"are you two ever going to get together or am i damned to listen to your stupid flirting for eternity?" renjun mumbles out between bites of watermelon, the teasing smirk on his lips aggravating you only the slightest bit. you let out a hum while thinking about it, the question making you think for a bit. shrugging you look at renjun, "honestly? i don't know. i guess we both enjoy the chase. what if it gets weird between us once we start dating you know?" renjun nods and seems to seriously think about what you said, a small sigh leaving him, "you've known renjun for as long as i have, i'm pretty sure you two would fit together quite well," he chomps down on another piece of melon, giving you some time to think about his words. "also, i'm pretty sure the two of you wouldn't turn down other people if it really was about the chase."

you furrow your brows in confusion and renjun takes it as his cue to elaborate, "there were a few people that asked jeno out, and he turned down all of them. well, and you turned down those two guys from your history class too, didn't you? i'm pretty sure if the two of you only enjoyed a good chase, you wouldn't turn down people to mingle with. you two genuinely like each other, i'm sure of that. and as much as the two of you flirting annoys me, i just want you to be happy," renjun finishes, leaning over to steal a few pieces of melon from you. it's like renjun opened your eyes for you, the realisation that you're genuinely, completely, absolutely infatuated with lee jeno making your ears burn up.

renjun chuckles at the redness of your ears and the look of realisation on your face, "now you only need your loverboy to realise the same thing." you blink at him, and suddenly you feel helpless; it has been so easy to enjoy your back and forth with jeno, the flirty remarks and teasing touches always were easy to reciprocate, but now? now that you were aware of the weight of your feelings for him you felt like you've wasted so much time just idling about, so much time you maybe could've already spent in his arms.

renjun had stolen the rest of your fruits at this point, but you couldn't find it in you to care - your fingers were itching with excitement at the prospect of seeing jeno, the thought of spending any more time apart from him making your head spin. luckily for you, you agreed to a movie night with the rest of the dreamies. while you were on your way to the elevator to head to the dorms, you were trying to come up with a smooth way to open up about your feelings to jeno. renjun was rambling on about something you didn't really pay attention to, thoughts of jeno clouding your mind.

it's like fate decided to play cupid for the day because right there in the elevator was standing jeno, the surprised smile on his face quickly turning into a flirtatious one once he spotted you. "well hello there, precious. going up or down?" renjun let's out a whine, pushing past you to get into the elevator. "listen, i don't care what you two do once we're at the dorms, but please, please spare me until then. i don't think i'll survive that disgusting flirtatious bullshit." jeno snorts at that, throwing his arm around renjun's shoulder while you're getting in the elevator, pressing the button to get all of you to the ground floor.

"would you rather i flirt with you, jun?" jeno's voice was disgustingly sweet, and renjun shoved him away from himself, both you and jeno bursting out in small giggles. renjun grumbles annoyed and presses the button, the doors of the elevator closing smoothly. the elevator barely started moving when it stopped abruptly, the lights flickering above you. the three of you stayed silent for a second; waiting for the elevator to start moving again. it didn't.

"uhm..." jeno started, not really knowing what to say. turning to renjun you let out a shaky breath, "what do we do now?" renjun shrugged before experimentally pressing the emergency button, a loud sound ringing through the small lift. it took a few seconds until a voice spoke up, inquiring about the emergency. "yeah, uhm, we're stuck in the elevator." the lady on the other end hummed, faint typing being heard in the background. "alright, there's good news, and there's bad news. the good news is, don't worry, you're safe. don't panic and just sit it out until emergency services arrive," her voice was calm and comforting, though what she said next did anything but comfort you, "the bad news is that it's probably going to take a few hours until you're going to get out of there." it was silent for a second, jeno suddenly piping up, "a few hours? isn't there a janitor or something that can let us out?" the lady sighed, "no, i'm sorry. it's a bit more complicated than that. there's nothing we can do, so i suggest you get comfortable in the meantime. i'll make sure to contact the company that there are three people stuck in the elevator."

here you were, sitting on the elevator floor next to renjun, jeno sitting across from you. you had been talking about whatever came to mind for the past hour, the three of you slowly running out of topics to discuss. "i can't believe we're stuck," you whined for the approximately sixth time, head buried in your hands. "well, at least i'm here. it'd probably be even better without jun, like some prolonged game of seven minutes in heaven." jeno snorted at his own remark, renjun only grumbling out a small "more like hell."

after endless rounds of rock-paper-scissors and somewhat passionate discussions about whether water is indeed wet or not (which it isn't), the three of you reached a point of silence. it wasn't uncomfortable, but you wouldn't call it comfortable either - you were kind of just sitting there, and you were slowly starting to drift off. your head fell onto renjun's shoulder, renjun shifting a bit to make it a bit more comfortable to you, the boy already had gotten used to it over all this time as your best friend.

judging by the deep frow on jeno's face, he didn't seem to know that things like that were quite common for you and renjun. you were long gone at that point, sleep tugging on your conscience and dragging you into a deep slumber while renjun had to hold back from snickering at jeno's unhappy expression.

jeno was nearly burning holes through renjun at this point, "are you really jealous even though you two aren't even dating?" renjun had a teasing grin etched onto his face, jeno not being able to answer in more than a few stammers for a second. "w-what?" renjun snorted at the reaction, rolling his eyes at his friend.

"cmon, id be dead if looks could kill jeno. it's clear you two like each other so please just get it over with, i can't deal with two lovesick idiots at once." jeno was about to protest renjun's teasing until the words registered in his mind. "wait, two lovesick idiots?"

renjun can't help but let out an annoyed groan, "oh please! you can't tell me you're that dense, the two of you are so in love with each other its actually disgusting," you let out a whine when renjun gestures with his arms wildly, the movement momentarily ripping you out of your slumber.

jeno's silent for a bit, his gaze focused on you and your sleeping face; if there's anyone that should know how you're feeling, it should be renjun, right? jeno gulps, his gaze drifting back to renjun, "and...and how should i go about it? just, i don't know, ask them out or-" "YES!" renjun couldn't take it anymore; no one was leaving this elevator until the two of you finally sorted your feelings for each other out.

you're startled awake by renjun's outburst, tired eyes looking around in confusion. your eyes meet jeno's, and he feels his heartbeat ring in his ears, cheeks heating up and without much thought, without any plan on how exactly to go about it, jeno suddenly blurts out: "i like you, y/n."

confusion and sleep were still clouding your mind, so your first reaction was to stutter a bit, a frown on your face. "y-you- you what?" renjun sat next to you awkwardly, his eyes drifting back and forth between you and his friend. jeno cleared his throat, his nerves making his throat dry up, "i-i like you, and-...uhm, and i'm pretty sure you like me too."

you blink at him, a soft blush spreading on your cheeks; the sudden confession catching you off guard. you're stunned into silence, your brain still not working on its full capacity. "come on, answer him. don't make him wait, that's just cruel," renjun chimes suddenly in like some sort of referee, making you blush even more.

"uhm, y-yeah. i do, i like you too, jeno." you spluttered out, renjun mumbling a small "finally" you decided to ignore. jeno suddenly breaks out in the brightest smile you've ever seen and leans forward, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you over to his side. "now you can sleep on me, where you belong."

"guys please, i got you together so please stop with the disgusting flirt talk or whatever this is supposed to be. please, until we're out of here, i beg you," renjun whined at the two of you, jeno grinning triumphantly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer.

"jun, come on. did you expect us to stop once we're dating?" "we're dating?" your teasing made the cocky look on jeno's face drop, big eyes looking back at you in confusion. "uhm, yeah? i thought you know since we both-"

jeno was just too cute for his own good at that moment, so you lean forward and interrupt his defensive rambling with a soft kiss to his lips. it shuts him up and makes renjun let out a disgusted groan, small giggles escaping you. "i was joking, jeno."

the boy lets out a sigh of relief at that, elbowing you lightly, "don't play with my feelings like that!" giggling you nuzzle further into his side, "never, jeno."

it took another two hours until you were finally rescued, renjun letting out a giant sigh of relief after finally being able to leave the two of you alone. it's understandable; the poor boy had to listen to you and jeno's new-couple-talk for the last hours, the sweet compliments and cute giggles making him want to throw up. instead of joining the others for the planned movie night, you and jeno decided - to renjun's delight - to retreat into his room to spend some time together and finally take each other up on the flirtatious comments you've thrown at each other for the past months.

[babyybitchhh]

This is the anon who commented about yami! I didn't like nozel at first but I can't lie, he kinda grew on me and he's fine asf. I couldn't look at magna in anyway until I saw him with his hair down. Now I'm like 👀👀👀. More than anything, I just want yami to ruin me. Spank me and call me a good girl pleaseee

Yessssssss

Yami was BUILT to be daddy. So strong, so rough around the edges but with a big soft heart, so beefy 💗🥴💗

Words: 3937

Warnings: daddy kink, alcohol, drunk fingering, vaginal fingering 

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172960

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You probably should have known better than to start drinking with them. No, not probably. You definitely should have known better.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty though, and you could see now just how grievous a mistake it had been to accept Vanessa’s invitation without stopping long enough to consider the consequences but, well ... she was one of the only other women in the squad and she seemed to like you well enough. You wanted her to keep liking you, of course. So you’d foolishly jumped at the chance, far too eager to be included in this decidedly unorthodox team bonding exercise of theirs.

The Black Bulls were, by nature, sufficiently rowdy enough on their own but adding alcohol to the mix only seemed to fan the flames. They were the very definition of unruly. Clothes had been shamelessly discarded, more cigarettes smoked than you would have thought possible, arguments over nothing at all turned heated with alarming frequency only to be immediately forgotten and you, you were stuck in the middle of it. Thoroughly lost in your own world and floating serenely through the hazy bog of consciousness without a second thought to what chaos was going on around you.

It was kind of nice, actually. Liberating.

“Remember, ya’ gotta’ have at least three matching pairs to discard,” Magna reminds the assembled party as he quickly deals out a fresh hand. “Or you can do the same suit if ya’ want, but it has to go in order. No incomplete sets.”

The worse for wear table everyone had initially gathered around started off cramped, a tight fit for so many people and with little elbow room to spare. As the night wore on, however, most of the plucky squadron had gradually called it quits and retired until eventually only four remained. You were proud of yourself for outlasting the others but you also knew just how in over your head you were with this particular group. Yami could likely drink anyone under the table and Magna appeared to keep up with him just fine. While Vanessa didn’t exactly hold her liquor well , she could certainly put it away. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you were on your last leg here even if you were, for all intents and purposes, having a good time.

“Alright, lets see what ya’ got.”

Feeling simultaneously as light as a feather and sluggish under the weight of heavy, invisible chains, you slowly flip your cards over. It was hard to tell which way was up anymore, especially when your inner vertigo was so off kilter. You were warm, too. Almost unbearably so. Clammy in the worst possible way and you teeter forward in your chair, struggling to focus your swimming vision on the cards spread out in front of you.

It was a shit hand.

Grumbling under your breath, you distractedly tug at your clothes. A soft, fitful whine claws its way up your throat when it does absolutely nothing to alleviate just how stiflingly hot you are and, in fact, only seems to make it worse. You were absolutely burning up and this card game was its own special brand of torture, you decide with nothing short of woozy contempt.

“What the hell’s your problem?” Yami asks mildly from his spot beside you.

He was infuriatingly collected despite having consumed even more alcohol than you had, guzzling down mouthful after mouthful while you’d taken your time sipping on the fruity concoctions Vanessa made special just for you. You’d lost track of how many cups he’d emptied quite some time ago but you were still only on your third. It didn’t make sense. How were you so damn tipsy already?

“Hot.” You groan, not bothering to look up from what was possibly the worst hand you could have been dealt. Letting Magna shuffle the deck was, unsurprisingly, yet another mistake to add to the ever growing list.

Turning his head, Yami glances over at you and you catch the movement from your peripheral but still refuse to divert your attention from the cards. Maybe if you just stared at them long enough, hard enough, they’d morph into something you could actually use. You weren’t a magic knight in name only, right? Surely your grimoire was good for something .

“You’re drunk.” He suddenly announces, loud enough to make Vanessa whip her head around.

“M’not.” You grumble.

“Bullshit.”

The inebriated witch inserts herself into the fray before you can respond, wrapping slender arms around your shoulders and pulling you in against her bosom. “Awww, honey! Did’ju really like my drinks that much?” She coos at you sweetly. “I wasn’t tryin’ to get you drunk. Promise.”

“M’not drunk.” You insist, louder this time, much to Vanessa’s giggling amusement.

Heaving a clipped sigh, Yami leans across the table and taps your cards with a thick finger, slowly drawing your attention back to them. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” He says around the cigarette in his mouth. “But someone who isn’t piss drunk would probably know better than to lay their hand out on the table like this. Do you even know what game we’re playing right now?”

Mouth tugging into a frown, you wrack your muddled brain for the answer to that question. “Go fish?”

Magna inelegantly snorts at that. You can feel yourself starting to flush in embarrassment as Vanessa begins fussing over you, softly petting your head with murmured, nonsensical endearments. She definitely wasn’t helping matters and you sincerely hoped none of them could see your fluster.

Yami doesn’t seem to miss it though and he purses his lips, pinning you with an unimpressed glower. “That’s what I thought. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re officially cut off. No more booze tonight, okay?”

Both you and Vanessa groan in unison. Your head immediately starts to spin in earnest now and you slump against the other woman even as she grabs your drink and holds it up to you as if she were bottle feeding a baby. The notion that she might accidentally dump it all over your head when she was just as intoxicated as you doesn’t even cross your mind and you obediently open your mouth to accept her offering.

“Come on, captain! At least let her finish her dr-drink first! I worked really hard to -”

Yami cuts across her babbling with a huff, standing and grabbing hold of the cup so he can pull it away despite Vanessa’s best attempt to keep it in her fumbling grasp. You watch it go, feeling an odd mix of disappointment and relief. The giddy, jovial mood you’d been imbued with was nice, yes, but realistically your body probably couldn’t handle much more. It was likely for the best.

“Just knock it off.” Pointedly setting the drink down towards the center of the table, Yami turns back with a furrowed brow. “Are you trying to kill her or something? What all did you even put in that?”

Vanessa hums a noncommittal sound of guilt, winding a strand of your hair around her finger.

He scoffs and moves closer with an accompanying shake of his head. Your heart gives a little jolt when you realize he’s coming towards you, not Vanessa, and you can’t help the anxious tinge that sparks in your chest. He was probably mad at you for getting so drunk. He looked mad. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of his lectures though and you lean further into the softly swaying witch next to you in search of protection.

Much to your faltering surprise, however, Yami’s tone sounds closer to exacerbated than angry when he says, “Alright, brat. C’mere. You get to sit with me for the rest of the night so I can keep an eye on you and make sure someone doesn’t try to sneak you anything else.”

You blink, thoroughly confused, and it feels like even something as simple as a muscle twitch takes a small eternity to accomplish. Yami either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care though.

Shooing Vanessa away, he bends at the waist and curls big hands under your armpits, hauling you straight up out of your seat. You outright squawk, flailing weakly in Yami’s grasp when you suddenly find yourself much further from the ground than you were used to. But your panic lasts only a terrifyingly brief moment and you relax when he draws you close, allowing you to curl your limbs around his thick frame. With a slight jostle, he adjusts his hold and secures you to the front of him. You instinctively nuzzle further into his arms, drunkenly whimpering as you tightly lock your elbows behind his neck.

“You’re no fun …” Vanessa whines on your behalf.

He clicks his tongue. “I’m thinking ahead. You’re not.” He says, those rumbled words reverberating inside your skull and further grounding you by some margin. “But if she gets sick, you’re the one who’s gonna’ clean it up.”

With that admonition, he moves back to his own chair and sits down again. It takes you a moment to get situated on his lap, still unbearably hot and fussy now after forcibly being removed from the fun. The last thing you want is to look like a lightweight in front of your teammates but he finally stills you with a large, mindful hand against your lower back. The silent warning in that innocuous gesture is enough to make you quit while you’re still ahead and, mewling something unintelligible, you press your warm face into his neck so you can settle in to pout.

Magna says something then, successfully distracting Vanessa from the subject, and the game carries on without you. The three of them don’t seem to mind the loss one bit as they seamlessly pick right back up where they’d left off.

It's hard to shake the feeling that your presence at the table was nothing more than an afterthought to them, or maybe a simple nicety, and it stung a little. There was no denying that. But you were much too hazy and disoriented to linger on it for more than a moment, molding yourself to the firm weight against you and going pleasantly slack in Yami’s arms. He was surprisingly comfortable, given his hard physique. A little too warm for your liking when you already felt swelteringly hot, but ultimately comfortable.

The even rise and fall of his broad chest is almost enough to lull you into dozing off right then and there with your head resting on his shoulder. Yami’s rough fingers tracing nonsensical, soothing patterns across your spine is the only thing that keeps you tethered to reality and you sit there, eyes closed, just listening to the slurred conversation going on at your back. It sounded far away now. Muted, as if your ears were stuffed with cotton, but you didn’t mind that too much. Magna was loud enough when sober and even worse when he was drunk.

A long moment later, Yami removes the cigarette from his lips and turns towards you when the other two start bickering about the validity of a certain card sequence. “How you feeling, squirt?” He asks, pressing his mouth against your hair.

“Good.” You murmur dreamily.

He laughs, very quietly, and gives you the briefest squeeze. “Yeah? You’re deadweight, baby girl. Sure you’re not gonna’ pass out on me over there?”

“Mmhmm.”

With a soft click of his tongue, Yami focuses back in on the game. The hand resting on your back slips lower, inconspicuously giving your behind a playful tweak that seems to go unnoticed by the table's other occupants given that they keep talking without pause. Magna would more than likely look away, politely pretending he hadn’t seen it, but Vanessa … if she’d caught so much as a glimpse, you’d be hearing about it right now. That was at least one reason (of which there was many) why what you had with Yami, whatever it was, still remained a secret to the rest of the squad even though it was probably a miracle they hadn’t caught on already, especially when he was so damn handsy with you.

Normally you’d err on the side of caution for that reason alone but you felt just daring enough to give him little push back. Emboldened by the liquid courage sitting hot and heavy in your stomach, confident that he wouldn’t have initiated this had it not been safe to do so, you discreetly roll your hips into him. The drag of your pussy across the front of his pants makes your breath hitch and he stiffens underneath you. That’s all the reaction you get for your trouble though, prompting you to lift your head from his shoulder and lean close to Yami’s ear.

“ Daddy …”

It’s nothing more than a tiny, breathless sigh but the effect it has on him is instantly noticeable. Steel chorded arm tightening around you, he breathes out a terse exhale and pulls you more firmly against his chest until you can scarcely breathe. A wavering puff of air slips from you as your thighs flex around his waist, silently trying to urge him on. It doesn’t work though and a shudder works its way down the length of your spine when he turns towards you again, growling right against the outer shell of your ear.

“Watch it.”

You whine, bucking against him more insistently. “ Nooooo .”

Yami snorts and swivels his attention back around to the cards clasped in his other hand. Pressing your face into the crook of his neck, you take a deep breath until the naturally heady scent of him swarms your senses like a fragrant, masculine cocktail. You can taste him in the back of your throat and it just makes you want him all the more.

Another wiggle of your hips is all the incentive he needs, calloused fingers slipping further down to grab a pinching handful of your ass. Roughly nudging you to sit a bit higher up on his thighs, he reaches lower and snakes his hand under your skirt. You squirm at the first touch against your panties, whimpering softly into his skin. Yami merely tightens his arm around you as he ever so carefully pulls the thin layer of cotton aside just enough to slide those sinfully long digits past the flimsy barrier.

“Spoiled brat,” He murmurs fondly, just loud enough for you to hear. “Already so damp and needy for me.”

You bite down on your tongue to keep yourself quiet, shuddering when he casually traces the length of your slit with abrasive fingertips.

Magna abruptly cackles about something and the sudden noise makes you jolt. Yami, to his credit, remains perfectly still though and merely waits a torturously long beat before continuing in rumbling hushed tones. “How long were you sitting over there in your own mess, hmm?”

“I - it’s not a mess.” You warble into his shoulder, your cheeks flushing hot.

“Oh? This certainly feels like a mess to me …” Pausing, Yami dips a finger into the meat of your labia and the slick quality of your pussy suddenly makes itself known. You hadn’t noticed until now, either because you were too caught up in your inebriated stupor or simply too focused on pouting to pay it any mind, but you were absolutely soaked. It wasn’t exactly surprising. Your body always responded eagerly to being manhandled by the captain but even this seemed a bit excessive.

Whining low in your throat, you decide you don’t want to play this game after all and try to angle your defenseless little cunt away from his searching hand. But Yami puts a stop to that quickly enough and shifts his legs further apart, forcibly spreading your thighs until you can’t find the leverage needed to wriggle out of his hold. You lip quivers when he takes advantage of this vulnerable position to worm a finger into the tight, squeezing heat of your body, gummy walls contracting around the intrusion with a pleasant flutter. It takes everything you have not to throw your head back and unabashedly moan up at the ceiling.

“Can’t you feel that, baby? You’re so wet I didn’t even have to work you open.”

Hiccuping, you shove your face against Yami’s neck again. “Dah - daddy … please .”

“Shh.” He warns even as he starts up a slow pace, sedately pumping into you. “Keep quiet or I’ll have to stop.”

As if on cue, Vanessa says something to him then and Yami effortlessly diverts his attention to the slurring witch as if nothing about the situation were out of place. You dig your nails into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades and bite back a groan, suddenly feeling ten times hotter than before. Even with all your concentration focused on keeping as still and quiet as possible, you find yourself imperceptibly arching to give him better access to your sticky cunt. It was certainly a blessing in disguise that she was just as drunk as you were, otherwise she might have given the whole thing a second thought. The way you were sitting on his lap. The smallest twitch of your hips to accompany the shallow quality of your breathing. It was so obvious what you two were doing. How had they not noticed already?

The table.

Neither Magna or Vanessa could see over it unless they came around and stood right next to the chair. You were essentially safe from the waist down and a fresh spark of confidence alights throughout your whole system with this realization, doubling and then tripling your arousal. It was still risky doing something so brazen right in front of them but you were just drunk enough not to care.

Loins twisting and curling, you carefully rear back to meet his shallow thrusts. You’d never felt more uninhibited in your whole life. “Oooh, daddy,” You whisper, choking on it. “Right there.”

Yami doesn’t miss a beat, easily keeping up with the conversation as he allows a second digit to slide in with the first. You feel the stretch in your bones and you quietly seeth, lashes fanning against the apples of your cheeks when it pushes you to just this side of discomfort. Even being as wet as you are, his fingers were just too thick for your eagerly clenching passage to accommodate them without some resistance and you hedonistically bask in the searing burn. It felt good. Almost good enough for you to lose yourself to the pleasure but, somehow, you manage to keep your wits about you instead of shamelessly writhing in his lap.

You may as well have thrown caution to the wind though. Discretion hardly mattered anymore. You already felt like a blatant little slut and the shock of how much that turns you on has your pussy drooling obscenely all over Yami’s hand.

“Hah - harder, daddy … nnghh, harder, please.”

Rather than obliging, he actually pauses his ministrations and you quietly mewl at the loss of friction. You squirm on top of his muscular thighs and desperately try to fuck down on his digits, panting like a bitch in heat against the captains neck. He shifts underneath you, says something to Vanessa that makes her direct a chiding tone at Magna. Their bickering starts up again and with the rise in volume, Yami gives his wrist a good twist that shoves his fingertips into your upper wall. Static electricity shoots through your system at the sudden pressure on that pulsing sweet spot and the tension in your gut immediately starts to toe the line of unbearable.

Your mouth drops open in shellshocked ecstasy but nothing comes out. It’s hard just to draw breath when the dizzyingly sharp jolt of arousal has your toes flexing uselessly in the air and you tremble, quaking in his arms. Unperturbed by the effect this is having on you, Yami takes his time caressing the velvety soft lining of your insides with sedately smooth motions. Those worn fingertips gradually curl up in the general direction of your belly button and press in deeper, harder, making your cunt absolutely gush around him. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate.

“Oooh god !” You gasp, clutching him in a death grip.

Turning your head, you press your cheek against Yami’s shoulder and fix your gaze to a random spot on the far wall. The room looked like it was tilted on its axis - - spinning, spinning, spinning - - and all you can do is whine and shake when he scissors his fingers, making more room for himself within you.

You weren’t just overheated anymore. It was as if you’d caught flame, burning from the inside out, and it only gets worse when he flexes his hand, jabbing at the spongy soft spot again and again.

A choked off squeal rises in your throat, just barely held back by tightly clenched teeth. You’re almost positive you can hear the greedy, slopping clicks of your pussy sucking him in deeper just below the surface of the enthusiastic argument going on behind you but they don’t seem to notice. They just keep shouting back and forth at each other, oblivious to what was going on at the other end of the table. You have no idea how you’re getting away with this - aren’t even really sure if you will get away with this when all is said and done - but that’s the very last thing on your mind anymore as you haltingly roll your hips into the blinding pressure.

“Ah - ahh - d - dah - ahh - ddyyy !”

“Do it.” Yami murmurs, his mouth pressed tight to your ear. “Come now , baby. Do it while you have the chance. Come on.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you give your pelvis one good little twist. The drag of your throbbing clit across the front of his rough pants is the last push you need, the resulting friction searing your veins. It sends you spiraling right over the edge into doped out bliss and you squeak, jerking against him when full bodied tremors grip you in earnest and make you shake.

Riding out the cresting waves as discreetly as you can, you blink back an onslaught of reflexive tears. Your pussy squeezes tight, milking your orgasm on his fingers, even though the effort of forcing yourself to remain quiet nearly breaks your resolve. But you manage, somehow, to breathe through it even as your hips weakly buck in unmitigated pleasure, subduedly twisting in his arms. It felt like you were drowning in it, choking on immense, all encompassing relief.

But Yami doesn’t immediately let up on his concerted attack, continuing to work you over until the spasms start to subside and you whine in frazzled distress. Digits finally stilling inside you, he offers a brief kiss to your hair and it makes you breathe out a tired sigh. You immediately slump, going boneless on top of him, now even clammier than when you’d started. The sweat clinging to your skin has you feeling worryingly damp but you were also satiated and comfortable. It was an acceptable tradeoff, as far as you were concerned.

“Such a good girl. You even managed to stay quiet for me. I’m proud of you.”

Smiling at the hushed approval in his tone, you snuggle further into Yami’s musclebound frame. You were floating on cloud nine, no longer concerned about being removed from the card game; not when the pleasant afterglow and the reassuring presence of your captain - your daddy - had you feeling so at peace. There would always be a next time.

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - UwU

"Then perish."

Troy

Slaps to the back, hands resting on top of the bracer, jabs to the ribs under its edge, that kind of intimate playfulness from people he trusts initiates immediate heart-boner mode.

If someone he wasn't close to did that shit he'd twist em in half. He’d 180 their torso before they realised what had just happened, and maybe that's why friends doing it wrecks him so hard. They normalise it. They normalise the rig and the spines and the hollow shell of iron, like it's not terrifying ( when he knows it should be ), and it's not disgusting ( when he knows what's under it ), and it's not sacrosanct to touch ( when he knows it absolutely fucking is ).

Ven playfully punching the blunt front of the bracer, a heavy paw from JK on the top of his empty shoulder, Eli asking how his back is and gently pressing fingers into the edge of his spine? Dude gets shivers. 😔

People offering him help is another "If you were anyone else I'd kill you but I actually really love this thank you" contradiction for him, but it has very specific rules.

Troy is shockingly independent, there were no accessibility tools on Nekro and no prosthetics, he's learned how to do almost everything without assistance and uses his mouth, hip bone, thighs, etc to manipulate things in place of his missing arm. He generally doesn't need help, and that's probably why friends offering it is.. nice.

No one ever offered. No one ever offered, his whole life. If someone close to him asks if they can help as he's opening something or pulling on a glove with his teeth? Yeh 😏. Yeh they can, sure. The little touches they might give him as they do are just a bonus.

Don't offer him help if he's struggling. Don't make it clear you've noticed he can't do something. He'll already be on razor edge and ready to tear himself apart over it, so drawing attention to his shame is a recipe for disaster. He'll ask if he needs help. He'll... he'll ask if he needs it.

Seifa

Someone preparing something for her to eat without asking absolutely generates an internal sob. It's the idea that she occupied a part of their brain that made them think of her when grabbing food or a drink, that her comfort actually mattered enough to someone to consider her despite there not being any gain.

Sei remembers every time this happens and has an internal little checklist for making sure she returns the gesture of care, from Eli handing her some fresh bread that he picked up from the kitchens at lunch, to JK insisting she try the concerning coloured fruit juice they had remembered mentioning before and wanted her to taste. She tries to pay em all back, one way or another.

An arm around her shoulders decimates her. She goes full jelly mode, all stupid grin and slight blush, if she's being pressed against a solid side then even better. Couldn't really explain why if she was asked, probably some underhanded combo of feeling protected and like she mattered enough to want to hold close that way. Gets an emotional chub of intense girth.

Hand touches. It's just so.. out of the norm. It's not something that ever happens in her day to day life, you don't make that connection with other people in her position and role. Friend reaching over to turn her wrist and ask if the tremor they spotted is a problem? Oh no. Partner in crime Ven holding it as he leads her through a crowd so they don't get separated? OH NO. Troy's unmistakable change in behavior when she eventually returns to Pandora, glancing touches against the back of her hand when he's always been so weird about that in general. Slowly lacing heavy fingers between hers as she starts to doze off next to him against the couch pillows, like if he's careful enough she won't notice? OH NO.

Tyreen

Troy sometimes shows Ty security recordings, it's a little known fact that the entire Cathedral and most of the Holy City is under surveillance, though maybe it shouldn't be that much of a surprise.. the Father is all seeing, after-all. There's a specific thing he'll clip from edits and show her because he understands how it makes her feel, and it's people praising Tyreen when she's not there to force it.

Not worshiping, praising. Comments on her great performance last week in a conversation between some dust runners guarding their cabal's alley in the Slums. Some kids playing God Queen, one gap toothed little girl with a coat wrapped around her shoulders shouting about how strong and powerful Tyreen is, how SHE'S Tyreen this round! Start running. Little things, real things that show an affection and care towards her from people who aren't being forced. It hits her. It really hits her, and the smile she beams at him in response is real.

Having her hair being pampered absolutely throbs her ickle heart. There isn't really any of Ty that can be touched, but her hair is pretty safe, long as the stylist is wearing gloves. Those little fluttering tickles and glances of human contact near her scalp leave her hot in the cheeks and smirking to herself as she rests back in the padded char of the Makeup team's portable boutique. She can close her eyes and really focus on how that feels, the little connection to someone else.

She remembers how years ago, she'd sit with Troy in their shared cloister between their ship docks and just do fucking nothing most nights - when Sei wasn't around that is. She'd splay back on the sofa and he'd sit on the floor between her legs, snarking bullshit comments about how cringe what she was watching was as he carefully painted her toenails while her feet rested in his lap.

She'd slap his back and tell him to shut the fuck up, that he just had no taste and couldn't tell a good romance if it punched him in the dick. Ty would wait for him to stop laughing before she returned to pressing experienced fingers into the pain points along the ridge of his scarred shoulder, kneading out twinges like she'd done for as long as she can remember.

They don't do that now though... not anymore.

Asks are open!

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Seven

So sorry this was so late, guys. Thank you for the sweet messages. For those who don't know my cousin was found by her two little children yesterday morning. She's been a heavy drinker for the last few years and we suspect she was getting into drugs as well through her husband. She was only 26 and way too young to die. I always idolized her when I was little, and wanted to be just like her. I know everyone has demons and are imperfect but it's really opened my eyes that even people we put on pedestals have things they're working through, just like us. Addiction runs in my family (obviously because this is the second cousin we've had to bury this year due to drug/alcohol addiction), I just always thought she would make it out. Thanks again for your thoughts and prayers, it isn't going unnoticed.

Words: 5k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, drug abuse, mentions of sexual assault

Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie  @tamedhearts  @divaanya  @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @thanks2pete  @abaldboi  @liith-ium  @caos18blog  @ytwahsog  @scarecrowmax  @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx    @meetthesixxter   @sublimeprincesswasteland  @arianareirg  @girlnight-terror

@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @viinceneil

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

"That's it?" I sneer at Nikki, on his heels after shoving Sparkie aside and leaving him in the dressing room, my hand reaching out to grab Nikki's wrist and snatch him back to me to keep him from walking away. "Not too long ago you beat the shit out of him for doing the exact same thing, Nikki, what the hell is so different now?" I demand, and he pulls away from me, his hazel eyes darkening with a looming sadness as he just looks down at me. 

"He's a fucking pervert, Viv. We know this, alright? Just kick his ass if you want to. I'm not gonna beat a dead horse." He dismisses me. 

What had changed was when he beat Sparkie to a pulp the last time, he didn't know about Duff. After discovering my relationship with one of his friends, it wouldn't have shocked him to find out that Sparkie and I were fooling around, too. I was a slut in his eyes, which was fine, because he was one in my eyes, too.

"Why the hell can't you just try to protect me, for once, Nikki?!" I snap at him, tears in my eyes, and he huffs out a huge breath, glaring at me. 

"Because I don't care, Vivian!" He screams.

"Oh, that's pretty evident, Nikki, that really is!" 

"I haven't protected you? You haven't protected me!" He throws at me, pointing his finger in my face. 

"Protected you from what?! Drugs?! The bullshit of fame?! People that want a piece of you just to say they're friends with Nikki Sixx?! I've tried! I've dedicated my fucking life to you! To making you happy, and making sure you were okay and every time I thought you were, you'd just go off the deep again!" I shout, a lump in my throat...my lost babies...my relationship with Duff..."I've protected you more than you even know, Nikki. And if I haven't, I've tried, and I'm still trying!" I outburst. 

His black-smeared eyes widen at my words, his jaw clenching as his nostrils flare. 

"You're still trying to protect me?" He asks, shaking slightly. "What exactly from, Vivian? Huh?" 

I blow him off, shaking my head slightly, about to walk away when he grabs my neck, making me squeak in pain. 

"You weren't protecting me from shit when you did that Playboy cover just to spite me. You weren't protecting me when you started fights with me over tiny shit, you weren't protecting me when you were hiding our relationship from people to begin with and you sure as fuck weren't protecting me when you hid your friendship with Duff from me!" He hisses out, his nose brushing mine, his hand still around my throat. "You want guys to respect you when you aren't worth a fucking thing which is why you had to get naked in a magazine to get validation in the first place." He adds viciously. "And as for Sparkie, you've made it pretty evident you'll wrap those pretty legs around just about anyone so excuse me for not thinking Sparkie is where you draw the line being that you're just another pussy to unload in and get on to the next attention-humping slut."

A satisfying crack sounds when my fist connects to his eye, making his fingers release my throat as he groans, stumbling back.

I wipe my tears, taking a deep breath as I shakily step past him, my eyes closing slightly as I wince at the unbearable “I hate you!” screaming past his lips, being hurled at me.

“You don’t get the luxury of hating me, Nikki.” I snap at him, continuing to walk away.

“You’re ungrateful and spiteful and selfish. Everything I have done for you--our lifestyle, our house, our--”

“And I never asked for any of it! I never wanted any of it! I just wanted you, Nikki!” I turn around to look at him once more, my voice cracking tiredly because we’ve had this conversation a thousand times before. “You didn’t have to do any of it for me but you did because you were trying to earn my love and respect but you already had it, I already adored you without the other bullshit, and you adored the excess and the groupies and the drugs!” I point out and he looks at me painfully, tears in his own eyes, out of anger, no doubt.

“I fucking failed you, Vivian, how many times are you gonna make sure I hear it?!” He yells back.

“Until you stop victimizing yourself and making me out to be the bad guy when you know damn well you did this to me! You ruined me, just like my fucking mom said you would!”

“I ruined you?!” He questions, his eye beginning to swell up. “I never forced you into a relationship with me, Vivian! You knew exactly what you were getting into when you got with me!”

“If I knew what I was getting into, I wouldn’t have given you a minute of my time, let alone six years of my life because you weren’t worth it!”

“I hate you!” He repeats, this time he really sounds like he means it, and I can’t help but give it right back to him as the words, “I hate you!” fly from my mouth before I can stop them.

He already deemed himself unlovable due to his mother only wanting him when it was convenient for her, and his father never wanting him to begin with...I only reinforced that, without meaning to, somewhere along the way.

“What the hell is goin’ on?!” Doc shouts over us and we look at him. “What the fuck happened to your eye?!” He pipes next, looking at Nikki.

“It’s fine.” He swats Doc away when he tries to take a look at it. “I can still play and make you plenty of money.” He adds in a hiss, shoving past him, shooting me one last death glare before leaving us.

“What the fuck happened?” Doc demands.

“I’m getting a divorce.” I state. “That’s what.”

When I turn around I see Izzy, his eyes hiding behind his shades, cigarette hanging from his lips as he trails behind me when I pass him.

“Ya know, it’d be easier if you didn’t add fuel to the fire, Viv.” Izzy tells me, not meaning any harm by it, but I’ve had enough.

“And my life would be easier if you were just dead.” I snap, slamming the bathroom door behind me.

I wondered what it would feel like if Nikki just knew about Duff and I. I wouldn’t have had that looming, paranoid fear, I wouldn’t have constantly been avoiding certain conversations altogether and I certainly wouldn’t have given Sparkie any ammunition...of course, it would have been the absolute end to our marriage, then and there--same day divorce, no questions asked…

“Nikki, just hear me out, please,” I plead, tears rolling down my cheeks as I tug my shirt on.

“How was it?” He asks me, fuming, and I furrow my brows, slightly.

“W-Wha--”

“--You said you wanted me to hear you out, Vivian, so I wanna know exactly how fucking one of my friends was?” He hisses, and I shake my head.

“You don’t need to patronize me, Nikki, I just made a mistake--just like you made with Vanity.” I tell him.

“Oh, my God.” He scoffs out, making a beeline for the tousled blankets in the living room floor in front of the fireplace.

“Nikki--”

“--When you found out about her you marched into the room, threw things around, called me every disgusting thing you could think of and wouldn’t hear a thing from me about why it happened but you do it, a-and it’s just a ‘mistake’ you made?” He asks me, his voice struggling to maintain it’s stern composure.

“I’m sorry, Nikki, alright? I am sorry, please don’t do thi--Nikki!” I shout as he throws the blankets into the burning fire, heading to our bedroom. “Nikki, stop!”

He starts stripping the sheets from the obviously screwed-in bed, next.

“You destroyed my shit when I cheated, why the fuck does it matter that I do it to you, huh?” He’s not even yelling, he’s surpassed the stage of “yelling” anger.

“Because I didn’t cheat!” I insist.

“Then why are you so upset that I walked in and saw you in bed with him, Vivian?” He asks next, keeping the tears in his eyes from toppling as he speaks.

“Because I didn’t want you to find out this way.” I admit, my voice shaking and hoarse from crying.

He throws the sheets at my feet, before silently going to his closet, grabbing his clothes as fast as he can.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, panic in my voice.

“I’m not sleeping here tonight, Vivian, I-I can’t.” He tells me.

“Nikki, no, we need to talk about this or-or something, please.”

“I can’t be here, right now, I-I look at you and I just…” He can’t finish, clenching his jaw. “...I’m not staying here tonight.”

“Then we can talk about it tomorrow, Nikki, just please--”

“--I don’t know when I’m gonna be back, Vivian, I don’t, so just leave it at that. You stay here as long as you want and he can, too, I don’t care anymore.” He lets out, weakly, grabbing the suitcase he came in with.

“Where are you going?” I hold back a sob and he ignores me. “Nikki, please, talk to me about this, I--”

“--There’s nothing to talk about. I slept with Vanity and you slept with Duff, we’re even now, and should both be done with this shit.” He continues packing quickly.

“Nikki, please don’t go, we can work this out like we’ve always done, please.” I grab his hand, my eyes swelling from crying, my nose running, but I don’t care.

“How do you expect me to feel sorry for what I did with Vanity when you’re trying to make everything better with another guy’s cum in you?” He asks me, calmly. “This marriage was obviously just damned from the start, so just call it what it is and let’s both get on with our lives.” He closes his suitcase, picking it up.

I’m pathetic with tears cascading down my face, giving one last "hail Mary" attempt as I hold to his arm that reaches for the door knob, and sob out:

“Nikki, please, don’t leave me like this, I don’t care about what happened with Vanity, just don’t leave me like this, can we please just talk about it and try to work on it, please, Nikki.”

He looks down at me, his own dam breaking just briefly enough for one of his tears to fall from his face and land on my lips, slithering through my slightly parted lips.

One last taste of him, before he’s shaking me off of him, and leaving me.

Yeah, I guess it’s good he didn’t find out sooner.

“Hey,” Duff’s voice cracks my thoughts, making snap back to reality as I look in the mirror, seeing him tower over me, and Stevie cheerfully bouncing on the balls of his feet, bringing a small smile to my lips, “Doc said you were in here.” Duff adds and I wipe my eyes, trying to avoid messing my makeup up any worse than it is.

“Yeah, I figured.” I reply softly.

“You just have one last night, okay?” Steven reassures me. “Just one more night and you’ll be outta this mess and back home.”

“Right.” I try to give my most convincing performance, grinning as best as I can...Duff clearly sees through it, clearing his throat a little.

“Vivian, if you wanna go back to the hotel, I won’t be mad.” Duff offers.

“What? And miss you guys’ last show on this tour? Are you kidding me?” I brush it off, my chest clenching as he looks down at me and Steven just raises a brow, their sweet faces obviously showing concern.

“You don’t have to act all tough around us, ya know.” Duff tells me, and I rub my lips together.

“I’m not acting.” I insist, shaking my head, turning back around to wipe the smudged mascara from under my eyes. “I’m tough as nails.” I explain, sounding as if I’m trying to convince myself, and them, of it.

“Duff, dude, Axl wants you.” Slash peeps his head in.

“Alright, man, I’m comin’.” Duff says. “See you in a second, k?”

I nod, maintaining my unbothered expression as he kisses my cheek, leaving me with Steven.

“You know, you’ve got a lot of shit on you right now, but...we’re not cats, Viv.” He tells me out of nowhere.

“What?” I ask him, confused.

“My grandma has this fat-ass cat, and he got sick and even though he was at his food bowl, he wouldn’t eat, he’d just make it seem like he was. My grandma’s vet told her cats pretend they aren’t weaker than usual to keep other cats from finishing them off.” He states and I let out a breath, nodding.

“You think I’m bullshitting to keep from making it worse?” I ask him, trying to keep my shaking voice at bay.

“I think when you and Nikki were still together and working on things, and shit was hell behind the scenes but seemed so glamorous on the outside, you didn’t pretend everything was fine to keep Doc off your case...you pretended Nikki wasn’t a heroin addict and your relationship was fine to keep other girls from ganging up on you and trying to steal him away.” He says calmly.

“Well, Vanity can tell you that didn’t work.” I scoff, sniffling.

“You don’t have to keep pretending everything’s fine, anymore, Viv.” Stevie states.

“I’m a woman, Steven. It’s not fine. Everyone is pinning my failed marriage on me as if it’s my fault he was on drugs, and sleeping with another woman, and--” I stop myself before I start crying, not wanting to refix my makeup. “--When it goes public, he’ll be praised for being a rockstar and knowing what he wants, and I’ll be scolded for not being sexy enough or fun enough or pretty enough or nasty enough or whatever enough to keep him happy and entertained to the capacity it requires to keep men happy.” I tell him, my voice rasping through the lump in my throat. “None of this would be a problem if I were just a freaking guy.” I add, laughing humorlessly.

He doesn’t have anything to say, opting to wrap one of his arms around my shoulders while the other wraps around my stomach, hugging me to him, his cheek resting against my hair as a tear rolls down my cheek, my hands find his, welcoming his embrace full-heartedly.

I predicted it.

Once the news of our divorce hit newsstands, it was automatically my fault, and when those “Nikki Sixx Files for Divorce from Estranged Wife” headlines turned into, “Nikki Sixx and Wife Retract Divorce Filing”, and then, “Vivian Sixx Announces Pregnancy Bombshell, Duff McKagan (Guns N’ Roses) is the Father”, all hell broke loose.

Things like, “Vivian Sixx: You Can Put a Ring on a Groupie, but It’s Still a Groupie,” and “*Insert whatever rockstar’s name I happened to be at the same social gathering as* and Vivian Sixx, Here’s What We Know,” were put on tabloids.

When Los Angeles Daily Times spun a bullshit story about me and my alleged affair with Jani Lane, who was engaged to Bobbie Brown--who was also one of my friends--at the time, and also claimed I didn’t get along with Bret Michaels or Bobby Dall because they were somehow my recent ex-lovers, Izzy and Steven went down to their office with a shotgun and threatened the moron who wrote the article.

An apology was issued publicly, rather quickly, as it should’ve been, but everything everyone said about me, and the situation, whether negative or positive, stuck with me for years, and it took awhile for the negative to be shaken off.

"We go on in, like, twenty minutes, Viv." He tells me softly and I nod. "I love you." He adds. 

"I love you, too, Stevie." I reply. 

His lips give a quick kiss to my exposed shoulder before he's leaving to go join Axl, Izzy, Slash, and Duff.

I fix my makeup once more, going to Mötley's dressing room to grab my purse and reapply my lipstick. 

Emi and Donna quiet down when I come in, they're sprucing their hair up, glancing at me, looking like they've been caught even though I didn't hear what they were talking about.  

"Hey, girls." I tell them, grabbing my lipstick. 

"Hey, Viv." Emi replies.

"Where the guys at?" I ask. 

"Vince and Tommy went to find some girls, Mick's talking to Doc, and Nikki…" they trail off, exchanging a look. 

"...Is in the bathroom shooting up. Got it." I scoff, using their mirror to smear red on my lips. 

There's a tension, as if they want to tell me something else, but don't exactly know how to. 

"What's up?" I ask them, next. 

They look away from me and I furrow my brows. 

"Girls, what's wrong?" I question and Donna sighs. 

"Sparkie just came in here and told us--randomly--that you and Duff have been sleeping together on this leg of the tour." Emi confesses, my nerves bunching up and frying. 

"W-What?" I ask. 

"He told us and then asked where Nikki was and we told him we didn't know because we didn't want him to tell him that because it's not true." Donna adds and my face tells it all. "Oh, my God." 

"Nikkk cannot know, he can't tell him." I insist, heading to the door. 

"We'll find Nikki, you find Sparkie." Emi offers. 

"Thank you." I tell them, opening the door, running into Nikki. 

"The fuck are you doing in here?" He questions me. 

"Um...girl talk." I lie as best as I can and he rolls his eyes, pushing me out of the way, sitting on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. 

I look at Emi and Donna, mouthing, "keep him in here," and they nod.

I shut the door, on the hunt for Sparkie. 

As I'm walking backstage, I notice how the crew is staring at me more than usual, even more than when my Playboy issue came out. 

I furrow my brows slightly, seeing Nikki's bass tech about to pass by, grabbing his arm and stopping him. 

"What's everyone's deal?" I ask him and he looks at my hand on his arm, and back to me. 

"It seems you've given people reason to talk about you...and Duff...again." he explains, alluding to me using Duff's in Playboy. 

"Did Sparkie--"

"--Yeah." He nods and I feel my blood boil. "Good luck." He gives me a small smile and goes on his way, making me shake my head a little as I look at everyone looking at me, whispering under their breath. 

I make a couple laps around backstage, managing to never find Sparkie, but I do see Tansy by the drink table, and I make a beeline for her. 

"Where's Sparkie?" I ask and she looks at me. 

"Oh, um, I-I think he went to talk to Nikki." She tells me. "He went to check in their dressing room, maybe? I'm not sure, he didn't say but he said he couldn't find him and headed that direction, why?" 

My heart hammers in my chest, and I can't bring myself to answer before I'm rushing back to the dressing room as fast as I can in my heels, opting to just take them off altogether and carry them in my hand. 

"Hey, Vi--" I shove through Vince, Tommy and Mick who're about to enter, opening the door in a burst, feeling tears pool in my eyes as I stare at Sparkie and Nikki sitting together on the couch. 

That's it. I'm done with. I'm fucked. Nikki knows. He knows. That's it. 

"Hey, Viv." Sparkie fauxly grins at me, propping his feet up on the small coffee table scattered with porn magazines, and I feel my stomach turn, my eyes shifting to Nikki, whose expression is too neutral for me to know if he knows or not. "I'm glad you could join us, I was just about to have a very important conversation with Nikki." He tells me. 

"Can I talk to you outside for a moment, Sparkie, please?" I beg, anxiety prickling at my nerves, glancing behind me when I hear feet shuffling, seeing we now have an audience of Tommy, Vince, Mick, Steven and Izzy, along with Emi and Donna who sit quietly in the corner, looking guilty for not keeping Sparkie away. 

"I think whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of Nikki." Sparkie says, standing up and I roll my jaw. "In fact, why don't you tell him?"

"Sparkie." Tommy speaks up, causing the grease ball to look at him over my shoulder. "Dude, chill out." 

"What exactly do you need to tell me?" Nikki questions loosely, still in the clouds…

"Yeah, Vivian. What exactly do you need to tell him?" Sparkie smiles.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Is all I can come up. 

"I'm sure they do." He adds flatly, and Nikki stands up stepping to us. 

"What the hell's he talking about?" He questions me. 

"He's a lunatic, Nikki, I don't know." I shrug, the palms of my hands sweaty. 

"You don't know?" Sparkie raises his brows, stepping past me and Nikki to walk to the door. 

I know what he's about to do: drop the bombshell and leave me with Nikki to suffer. 

Anger takes over at the thought, how disgusting he's been to Tansy, how repulsive he's treated me, how cruel he's been to Nikki in terms of making him feel like he has to have heroin...I glance down to see the plunger of a syringe in Nikki's black boot. And I snap. 

My hand pulls the capped needled syringe from his shoe, and I get the cap off, the needle slamming into the skin of Sparkie's left shoulder blade, just after he's about to say, "I bet Duff knows," but he only manages to get out, "I bet Du--". 

"Vivian!" Tansy's screaming shriek rips through the room as I get Sparkie on his knees by bearing my weight on him while continuing to shove the needle in and out of him, stabbing him with it as hard as I can each time, arms wrapping around my waist and him, trying to get me off of him. 

When I realize I'm being pried away, I discard the syringe and claw my nails at his eyes, making him scream and holler louder while everyone's yelling at me and Tansy's sobbing. 

I feel the forceful pull of a set of arms around my waist, and two more sets of hands on my arms, finally plucking me from Sparkie. 

Doc, Steven, and Mick are all holding me at bay as Tansy looks Sparkie over, everyone else in shock. Except Nikki. 

Sparkie's a crying, babbling wreck. 

"Tell him now, bitch!" I bark at him, and he only wails louder. 

As sick as it is, hearing him that distraught brought me a joy I'd never known. Sick bastard had finally gotten what he deserved. Maybe it makes me a crazy bitch for doing it, but nobody else had the balls to try to kill him when we all wanted to, so I suppose I took one for the team. And you know what? I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Sick bastard.

"You cannot just start beating the fuck out of people--not even beating, this time, Vivian, he can go and press some serious charges against you and--"

"--Because he's a pussy." I snap and Doc snatches at my wrist, stopping me. 

"Because you stabbed him, repeatedly, with a heroin needle, Vivian." He grits out. 

"So, I'm supposed to care whether the needle I plunge, repeatedly, into a drug-hustling-rapist is dedicated to the use of smack or not?" I furrow my brows. 

"I'm not saying that--"

"--Then don't say anything at all because at this point, everything he's done to Tansy and tried to do to me, is inexcusable and I'll stab him a million more times if I damn well please, and anyone trying to talk me our of it is a Sparkie sympathizer and I assure you, you don't want me to find out you sympathize with him." I promise, turning to walk away. 

"I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, Viv. I'm just saying that you weren't this violent six years ago." He states and I stop, rolling my jaw, before turning back to him. 

"Because I didn't have much of a backbone six years ago, and I cared about making everyone happy six years ago and I let people run over me if it made them happy six years ago and I was stupid and naive and had this idea that if I'm a good person, people will be good people back. But seeing how drastically my life has changed in a matter of two years in terms of my marriage and personal relationships and all the boozing, drugging and pussy-chasing in between, I don't have the grace or the patience to try to make people happy anymore. And that's not me being a crazy bitch, or a shitty person, that's simply me adapting and reacting to the environment I've been put in. I'm trying. I am doing my best. If my best isn't good enough for you then please walk to the back of the line of people waiting to deep throat my clit." I calmly tell him before going anywhere else to collect myself before the show starts. 

"Hey, Stripey Balboa." Izzy chuckles to me when I get in their dressing room. 

"Izzy." I roll my eyes, plopping down on the couch and he raises a brow.

"Have you gotten your barbarism out of your system yet?" He asks next. 

"I will once I shank you with a needle if you keep talking your shit." 

"I'm not talking shit. In fact, I admire your willingness to completely throw out your moral compass over a shit-smothered asshole like Sparkles and, by doing so, making me afraid and slightly aroused." He replies with a slick, sarcastic grin, before genuinely smiling. "Honestly, though, I'm glad it was you and not me because I would've killed him before drugs ever did." He adds, leaning forward and patting my knee before standing. 

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier." I say before he can leave, turning to look at him. "My life wouldn't be easier if you died. Yeah, I'd have one less person to worry about, but you're one of the people that makes my life good, so...I wouldn't know what to do without you." 

"Nikki didn't have any reason to cheat on you. I just said that to piss you off." He admits with a sigh. 

"So, we're good?"

"I don't even remember why we weren't good to begin with." He shrugs, giving a little wink before leaving me alone. 

After a few more minutes, I decide to go grab a Pepsi, standing up to leave, only to accidentally bump into a woman that seems somewhat recognizable, but also, not, at the same time. 

"H-Hi, um, i-is this where the band hangs out before the show?" She asks me, glancing around. 

"Um, yeah, most times...which band?" I reply and she raises her brows. 

"What?" 

"Which band? There's Guns N' Roses, and Mötley Crüe." I explain. 

"Oh, Mötley Crüe. I got in contact with their manager and he gave me directions and mailed me a backstage pass, so--"

"--Doc did?" I question and she nods.

"Yes, I tried to find him, but I can't seem to find any familiar faces so..." she trails off and I nod. 

"Okay, well, let's go find him, alright?" I suggest kindly, feeling bad at the fact she looks way lost and like a fish out of water as we walk down the hall. 

She glances at me for a moment, before clearing her throat. 

"You look even prettier in person." She says to me and I look at her. 

"Thank you." I reply. "So, are you a reporter or just a die-hard fan?" 

"Oh, neither." She says. "Where's your wedding ring?" She asks next and I'm at a loss for words for a moment. 

"Um, I lost it." I lie. 

"Oh." 

We continue looking for a couple more moments, to no avail. 

"They're probably grabbing some last minute stuff from the bus, but um, you're more than welcome to eat anything or drink anything you want while you wait." I motion to the table of food prepared for the guys and the road crew. 

"I was thinking I'd get to know my daughter-in-law a little better." She says next. 

"Oh, is she here with you?" I question, looking around, but she takes my left hand, looking blankly at my empty ring finger before adding, "at least I think she's still my daughter in law." 

[nialltlynch]

💐 kavinsky & proko and the trope is um fake relationship bc kavinsky wants to make [anyone] jealous but actually of course he wanted pro the whole time :3c if u want 💞

hi thank you thank you 🥺 ~ i adore prokopinsky so this was very fun to think about. i had a few other concepts but this was the most ficlet-ish of them. hopefully it scratches the itch.

It's obscene, he thinks. Absolutely fucking obscene. Kavinsky nearly drops the joint he's rolling but Proko takes it from him without asking. He rolls it up nice and tight and perfect. He takes a long drag and it doesn't look like he's going to give it back.

It's such a stupid thing to be upset over. Kavinsky's never cared who's fucking who. Never cared about being attached to anyone himself because it never mattered before. But it's like those two idiots were playing a long game of fuck Kavinsky but not in the fun way. They're about town with their stupid puppy dog looks and whispering dumb shit in class and the laughter. And Kavinsky? He's still sitting on the hood of his car parked on the far edge of the mall lot with a joint in one hand and a fifth tucked in the center console for easy access. He just feels alone.

"Stop staring," Proko says but Kavinsky doesn't stop. What the fuck is he supposed to look at? Triple Dicks Almighty and Ronan "Catholic Guilt Incarnate" Lynch are just. Out. Like out out. In public. Holding hands and kissing for all the damn world to see. Proko puts the joint in Kavinsky's mouth and forces his head to look literally anywhere else. It's like asking Kavinsky to not look at a really gruesome fight or a particularly fucked up car crash or two assholes high on sappy romance movie bullshit practically jumping each other in the damn mall parking lot.

He takes long drag. Holds it.

Where was all this energy just last week when Kavinsky had invited Lynch to that party? Look where that fucking got him. Kavinsky rubs at his cheek. It only stopped being sore and swollen the other day. He can still click his jaw out of place if he tries hard enough.

Across the lot, near the entrance with the bell ringing drunk Santa, Gansey is watching Lynch scarf down an entire burrito like his damn life depends on it. Gansey looks so helpless. Maybe even a little horrified. It makes Kavinsky so damn happy.

Kavinsky hops off the hood of the LanEvo and sucks one last long drag from the joint before he drops it to the ground. Honestly, Kavinsky isn't entirely sure what he going to do but damn he's doing it. He going to do the fuck out of - whatever it is. The Plan. He hads for the entrance.

He doesn't expect it, but Proko falls in step beside him. Hands tucked in his pockets and shoulders scrunched up to his ears. His face is twisted up against a cold that Kavinsky doesn't feel. It's not thank Kavinsky really thinks ahead, he just sort of. Does it. He reaches into Proko's pocket and grabs his hand, swinging it merrily, enthusiastically, goddamn openly. Proko's always been good for some spontaneous scheming. Someone better fucking look and get the wrong fucking idea.

"You didn't have to eat the whole thing. There were a number of other options," Gansey is saying while he pats Lynch's back in a way that looks more frustratingly fond than medically advised.

"What's up, fuckers," Kavinsky says. He's not sure if that's what The Plan had originally entailed but it gets Lynch's attention. Close enough.

Gansey's posture tightens but he doesn't look over. Lynch may have been choking down a burrito but he still manages to look like one of those angry little dogs with the squished in face. He swipes his arm across his mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"This town is like ten square miles. Where the fuck am I supposed to go?"

"Ronan," Gansey says in a low voice to Lynch but the warning is meager.

Proko's fingers tighten around Kavinsky's.

"Can't a guy and his boyfriend - " Kavinsky brandishes his and Proko's intertwined hands like a cool rock he found " - just exist? Maybe we want to parade around town like some people and look at all the holiday bullshit."

"Go be a fucking asshole someplace else," Lynch says.

Kavinsky has his arm around Proko now. He's always been possessive of his things so it isn't a difficult sell. Still.

"Maybe you're the one who should go be fucking disgusting someplace else."

"We were here first."

"It's the mall."

Gansey, who had been rubbing at his eyes during all of this, hooks an arm around Lynch's shoulders and begins to ferry him to the entrance. Lynch isn't having any of it.

"No!" He pulls out of Gansey's grip. "When the fuck did you find time to get together, anyway? You've been stalking us all week."

"Oh, fuck off." Kavinsky laughs to cover up the flicker of embarrassment that Lynch had noticed. Fuck. He just wants to humiliate him. Kavinsky turns to Proko and asks "what are our plans later, babe?" He stretches out the pet name and he finds it feels and tastes and sounds sugary sweet. He likes it. The very tips of Proko's ears are red. It must be from the cold.

"I didn't know we - "

"Dinner," decides Kavinsky with a snap of his fingers. He points at Lynch. "You hear that? I know you're used to eating cold spaghetti-o's straight out of the can but some people like to treat their boyfriends with some more, you know?"

Lynch scoffs. "I know how to cook."

"God, why am I not surprised."

They make an open spectacle and every person trying to leave or trying to enter purposely walks as far away as the walkway will allow. Gansey, via polite smiles and fragmented apologies, is doing all he can to undo whatever psychic damage Kavinsky and Lynch are wreaking.

Kavinsky can see Lynch's fist coming for him but he just stands there and doesn't try to stop it. Gansey (or maybe it's God) intercedes, jerking Lynch backward toward the parking lot. Profainty gets tossed back and forth like a beach ball, maybe a kid or two starts crying. Gansey is only barely holding Lynch back. There's a yuppy mom with a yappy dog threatening to call security and all Kavinsky thinks is: I should escalate this.

Proko kisses Kavinsky's cheek and like that the moment evaporates.

Proko isn't looking at Gansey or Lynch and, really, Kavinsky only knows this because he's looking at Proko. Proko is smiling just a little bit and they're still holding hands and Kavinsky's cheek is warm in the exact shape of Proko's mouth.

Something inside of him begins to fill. A vacant space. It's not much but it's something.

"Can we go inside now?" Proko asks. He tilts his head but he doesn't look away. Red has seeped nearly all the through Proko's ears and Kavinsky can feel Proko shivering even as he stands. It takes him a second but Kavinsky answers.

"Yeah." He laughs. It feels unexpected but right in this moment. This is what he's supposed to be doing. "Yeah, let's go. I'll even buy you dinner."

((join my celebration!))

[mbti-notes]

Hi—I realized recently that I'm very indifferent to other people's wellbeing. I'm an INFJ and I think I'm in Ti loop. I genuinely don't want to be indifferent because it causes me shame and annoyance, but I really can't care; I'm so disconnected. Hypocritically, I want other people's love and care and start to feel hurt when I don't get it. I fare badly socially because I become needy or desperate for acceptance and can't contribute. Underlying this from your blog I think there's [1]

[con’t: perfectionism; I’m obsessed with an ideal of being really wise/understanding/caring and I’m devastated when someone comments against these traits in me. It makes sense that I would be unable to feel for others when I’m actually just obsessed with being ‘good’. But whenever I try to get rid of my perfectionism, I feel low self-worth and shame? I realize this is an underlying emotional problem I’ve not solved but I don’t know how to. I have been bullied severely at school and it’s since then I’ve felt the same, despite keeping trying otherwise. I’ve really, really tried seeing what’s behind my low self-worth, and there seem to be multiple causes: low grades at the end of school, the bullying, my current status in my friend groups, and most of all an inability to deal with my emotional problems right now. Despite thinking so much, I feel I’m wrong somewhere. I’ve come to the conclusion that I have some really detrimental thought patterns. Can you offer advice, just to point me to the right direction to go?]

I’ve written about bullying before. If you’ve been bullied then your idea about relationships is likely twisted and wrong. E.g. You believe that relationships are painful and want to avoid them. You believe that people are evil or undeserving. You believe that you are inferior or you get fixated on proving that you’re not. Suffice it to say that it’s hard to have healthy relationships when you approach them with these sorts of underlying negative beliefs. Perhaps you need to talk to a therapist to resolve your negativity from the past.

You mention shame and low self-worth. Shame is an indication that there is something morally problematic about your decision making process. As long as you insist upon an amoral/immoral attitude, you will feel shame, because you are choosing the path to being your worst self rather than your best self. Low self-worth is an indication that you don’t believe you deserve love. As long as you believe yourself undeserving, relationships will feel painful, because you live in constant fear of rejection (i.e. having your low self-worth confirmed).

You say that you’re in Ti loop and don’t know how to get out. “Thinking so much” is precisely the problem because it surreptitiously allows you to avoid feeling too much. Ti loop means that you are disconnecting as a means to protect yourself from the hurt, pain, and suffering that comes from engaging with the world. Ti loop means that you don’t want any possibility of experiencing negative feelings, so you must abandon all feelings just to be safe. And how would you feel any care or empathy when you are actively shutting down your feeling life? This is called self-sabotage. Ti loop means you haven’t realized that the damage done by disconnecting is going to hurt you much more than the external world ever will, because it renders you incapable of being fully human. You destroy empathy, you become indifferent, then even cruel. You choose to keep yourself closed off so that you can avoid getting hurt. You could choose to open yourself up, then you would start feeling again, then you’d be capable of caring. That is what it takes to get out of Ti loop.

It seems that you want all the great benefits of being in healthy and loving relationships without having to lift a finger? Why should anyone expend the effort to care about you when you don’t care about them, to the point of being entirely indifferent about their well-being? If they chose to engage in a relationship with you under these conditions, would it not amount to continuously flushing their time, energy, and feelings down the toilet? A person would have to really hate themselves to repeatedly subject themselves to your indifference. 

Do you believe that relationships should always be easy? Do you think that caring about someone, checking up on them, listening to them, spending quality time with them, witnessing their life, helping them when they’re in need, etc, is always easy? But that is what it takes to maintain a meaningful relationship over the long run, the kind of relationship that produces enough mutual benefit for both parties to remain committed and loyal to each other. 

You say that you “have nothing to contribute”. Absolute bullshit. Do you not have some time, energy, or resources that you could choose to contribute? Could you not say a kind word, offer a smile, or lend a helping hand to brighten someone’s existence? And if you made that contribution to them, would they not feel more inspired to contribute to you in return? You don’t have to be perfectly perfect to be loved; you have to love to get love. You don’t seem to understand that love is best expressed through simple and practical gestures that, most of the time, come at little cost to you. But a stingy mindset (i.e. a closed heart) means that you’re not willing to give anything because you perceive it as a “loss”.

At some point, you have to take full responsibility for how you allot your time and energy, if you want to improve your life. If you choose to keep your time and energy entirely to yourself, only caring about your own self-protection and nothing else, then you must live with the painful consequences of being socially and emotionally disconnected. If you choose to give of your time and energy to others for the sake of building a proper relationship, then you get a chance to discover the joys and the pains of being in meaningful relationships. One path leads to a dead end, the other to personal growth as well as a better world for you to live in. It’s your choice. Caring is a choice that you make when you finally understand its true value, beyond the petty ego fears and desires. 

[andrea-lyn]

I'm in desperate need of a story where Alex and Michael are trying to be friends with all that cute awkward trying to be "just friends " bullshit and then one day Alex can't take it anymore and unexpectedly just kisses Michael. Plssssss ♥️

If anyone had asked Alex which of the two of them would cope more poorly with being friends, he would have put money on Michael and felt easy about walking away with all of it. Alex is the one who always needs space, who walks away at the first drop of the cowboy hat, so of course being friends and building things up naturally is going to be easy for him.

God, he’s so fucking wrong.

He thinks it has to be like when you’re told you can’t have something. Suddenly, that turns into the only thing you could ever actually want. He wants to be friends with Michael, but when he starts doing that, he starts to see all the little things that he never paid that much attention to before.

It’s in the way Michael smirks at him across a crowd when they’re with other people and someone says something that he knows Alex would laugh at. It’s how he absently fidgets with his fingers when he’s bored of the conversation and Alex knows his mind has wandered off to other problems. For the first time, Michael’s never-shifting gaze on him makes him prickle with something other than guilt and shame.

It’s interest and it’s bubbling in his stomach.

With every movie they go to see and their hands brush in their shared popcorn, with every investigation into alien conspiracies when they bicker about where they should research on the dark web, and with every time Michael sees him home to the cabin and walks him inside.

There’s something building that he recognizes from when he’d been seventeen and crazy about a boy.

Now he’s twenty-seven and he’s building a foundation with a man.

The day Alex completely loses himself to that tidal wave of feeling, they’re at one of Michael’s old orphanages to see if they can find any clues about visitors that might have had too much interest in him. The lead is a bust, but before they leave, he loses Michael somewhere in the building.

“Did you see where my friend went?” Alex asks the woman at the front desk, trying to ignore how ‘friend’ seems like the wrong word.

She leans back and gives Alex an amused smile. “I think he found himself in a puppy pile.”

“A puppy what?”

Before Alex can get clarification, he hears the happy yelps and shrieks coming from the main room. He ducks out just in time to see a few of the younger kids from the home weaving around Michael, who’s taking it all with easy charm, laughing as he coaxes them back towards him, and eventually it ends with him crashing onto the floor, three of the kids pushing him and tackling him.

“Get the monster!” the littlest one cries and jumps a little, though Michael catches him before he can stomp on anything too precious.

He’s so good with them, like he’s remembering those times in his life when he was here and the joy had been few and far between. They end up whispering and giggling for a while until Michael glances up from where he’s walking with three young kids attached to his legs, catching Alex’s gaze in surprise.

“No luck,” Alex says, leaning against the doorway and staring at Michael like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life.

It’s not a hard task when he really is the most beautiful thing.

“Sorry, kiddos,” Michael says, patting their heads and prying them off his legs. “Hey, listen, I’ll come visit, okay?” On anyone else, Alex might see a false promise, but he knows that Michael will be here on the weekly until the kids find a home, because that’s just the kind of man he is and after the life he’s had, he knows better than to give an empty promise.

“Do you hafta go, Mr. Guerin?” the littlest one asks, pouting.

“I know it’s rough, Elias, but my friend over there, he needs me,” he says, glancing up and catching Alex’s eye. They hold that gaze for a long moment and Alex feels his breath catch in his throat as he’s threatened with an overwhelming burst of affection.

He’s absolutely, ridiculously, completely in love with that man.

“I’ll make sure to bring him back,” he guarantees, resting a hand on Michael’s back as they leave, because it’s the only point of contact he trusts himself with right now.

The drive back is silent, but content. Michael stares out the windshield, but he’s smiling, like he’s still basking in the warmth of how those kids had reacted to him playing with them. Alex is content to watch him, because he’s never more beautiful than he is when he’s at peace.

Later, when Michael drops him off at the cabin, Alex stays inside the truck while it idles. He’s staring forward at the sunset painting the cabin brilliant reds and oranges, avoiding looking at Michael, because he knows he’ll look just as good.

“Hey,” Michael says, like he’s trying to snap him out of his daze. He reaches over, hand resting over his shoulder and squeezing lightly. “Wake up, man, we’re here.”

“I know,” Alex says, knowing he has to be careful about this.

He’s the one who wanted to be friends and start over, now he’s about to tell Michael something completely different. Maybe it doesn’t have to be them diving in completely, not just yet.

He takes a deep breath. “Come inside, for a cup of coffee,” isn’t a plunge so much as dipping his toes in the water.

Michael doesn’t need much convincing. He turns off the engine and follows Alex inside. Unfortunately, the night goes off the rails when Michael turns to ask him for some sugar for his coffee and instead of handing him the sugar jar, Alex grabs his cheeks and rocks him back against the fridge, kissing the hell out of him.

“I’d say I’m sweet enough, but I really do want that sugar,” Michael murmurs, but he leans in for a softer kiss, tender and when he eases back, his face is awash with content and disbelief. “What about starting over?”

“This feels a lot like it, to me,” Alex points out. “I can’t be your friend without wanting to kiss you. I’m pretty sure that’s an impossible thing.” He breathes in slowly, stroking his fingers down Michael’s back. “How about for a while, though, we do the friends and the kissing and the dating thing?”

“Taking it slow?”

“If you’re good with that,” Alex agrees.

“Kiss me again,” Michael says, and pulls him closer so Alex can do just that, and if starting over feels like this, then he could do this a dozen times over and never get tired of it.

[adroitsolidity]

"Chains Won't Hold Me Down"

❇

It seemed like taboo to even think about the fact that things had seemed to settle back down after Damian left the CIA, and Zach had simply just /thought/ about the fact that things seemed calmer and then they started to fall apart again a bit a week or so after Damian left. Zach didn't feel much better, and still couldn't for the life of him figure out why, and it didn't seem to matter how much he racked his brain trying to figure it out. Things were changing, they seemed so different, and Zach struggled to figure out why. He continued to try and keep Conner and Braxton happy and free from concern, while he carried a lot on his shoulders. Something about being around Conner was different, but Zach didn't know if it was just all of the stress or if he was simply overthinking, and he did the best he could to shrug it off and simply work through it, being his quirky self and making lame jokes and movie references like he always did. What was it that was making Zach feel so much conflict? He was carrying a lot on his own, and he continued to struggle to figure out exactly what it was. He didn't know, he had no idea, and it had started to fester to a point where he was being left speechless.

It didn't escape Braxton's notice, and it especially didn't escape Conner's, but Zach kept doing what he could to just laugh it off and reassure them that he was okay. When he was alone, though, his mind absolutely reeled, and Conner was the most difficult one to hide it from because he was very observant, and Zach knew that he wasn't fooling anyone, especially not Conner. His heart and mind seemed to be doing a lot of different things, and it was all really confusing to Zach so he ended up spending most of his time in the training room, trying to keep his distance from most people while he tried to un-jumble everything in his head. He felt something...something he'd never felt and couldn't put a label on. But what? It was frustrating him, and he went at a punching bag more aggressively than what was normal for him until he heard a female voice he was more than tired of hearing over the intercom saying his name. Zach stopped going at the bag and stood in front of it, snapping his eyes shut and heaving an irritated sigh as he listened.

"Zachariah Morone, report to the Executives' office for yearly evaluation."

He growled under his breath and groaned in frustration before hitting the bag /hard/ and then moving before it swung back and hit him, then he took the gloves he was wearing off and unwrapped his hands as he made his way over to the door, setting those things on a bench before exiting the training room and making his way to the elevator. His brown eyes were dark and stony, and his jaw was clenched as he watched the number go up before the doors finally slid open. Zach walked out of the elevator and turned down the hallway that led to the Executive office, on edge just like he was every time he had to go in there as soon as the door finally came into view, and he heaved another sigh and clenched his jaw a little bit tighter before stopping in front of the closed door. He raised a hand to knock on the door but hesitated, holding his hand up for a moment and taking a breath before finally making himself knock on the door, then he took a step back and waited for them to either open the door or simply tell him to enter.

Footsteps approached the door from the other side, and Zach looked down at the crack on the bottom of the door to see a shadow from under the door, and he took another step back and looked back up as soon as he heard the door being opened. The woman that he'd had to deal with more times than he cared to think about gave him a once over before she motioned for him to enter the room, and he shook his head a little and walked past her and into the room, looking around at everyone before focusing on the woman who was standing in front of him again. Without even thinking about it, he had been standing at attention but was also taking in everything that was going on around him, just like he had always been told.

"Agent Morone. Born Zachariah Emmanuel Morone. Date of Birth, August 8th, 1993. He's been an agent for 7 years, and has worked very closely with Director McAlister."

Zach's gut seemed to jolt ever so slightly as he listened to the woman speak, like she did every time she did an evaluation of his progress, but it seemed to trigger something different in Zach that time around. It made some of the frustration he'd been feeling before come back, but he bit it back and stayed quiet. Conner always told Zach to never give them any kind of reaction because it was what they wanted, it was what they were looking for. They used people as weapons, so if Zach did anything to spark their interest, they would have gone after him, too. So as much as Zach wanted to beat the living daylights out of every single person in that room, he didn't only because Conner had told him not to. His gut seemed to jolt a bit every time he thought about anything Conner said or did, or when he just heard his name, and that had never happened to him before. It made him furrow his brow ever so slightly, but his attention was pulled away when one of the men in the room started to speak, and his gaze moved from the woman in front of him to a man standing off to his right. The knife that Conner had bought Zach was on his belt in its sheath, right where it always was, but he felt the weight of it a bit as he listened to what the man had to say, using every ounce of willpower he had to not pull it out and use it on them.

"There was an incident recently that seemed to render the Director...distracted. And I believe that, if I gathered the right information, /you/ were involved."

An indication that he was involved, taking in what they were saying, or was even the least bit interested was expected of him, but he got very stubborn and simply didn't give them one, staying completely quiet and still as the man began to speak again. Conner's words were echoing in Zach's head, and he continued to give them absolutely nothing; no reaction, just nothing. His eyes were dangerous and his expression was neutral, but he didn't give them anything else to go off of.

"The Director is our most important asset. We can't afford for him to be distracted for any reason, so we need you to keep your distance for a short while. We'll have one of our specialized trainers come in and work with you. But we can't have our best asset distracted in any way. His power and influence are far too valuable to us."

Zach couldn't do it anymore. It was going to go against everything Conner had told him, but they were talking about him like he was some weapon, again, and that finally made Zach just crack and lose what little composure he'd managed to keep up to that point. He knew he was going to be sorry for speaking out, but on the other hand he couldn't find it in himself to care and was in full-blown "retaliation mode".

"No. Y'know what...that's a bunch of bullshit. Fuck you and your specialized trainer. He's not a god damn weapon...he's a human being. I'm not gonna work with another trainer, I work for Conner and that's it."

He paused for a moment and looked around the room, cutting off the woman when she went to speak and turning his attention back to the man that had been responsible for setting Zach off, his tone getting lower and more dangerous as he locked his eyes onto the guy and continued.

"His name's Conner. He isn't just some damn weapon, he isn't just your fucking 'asset'. That's a person, you demented fucks. Not some war machine you can just sick on people! Not just some killer you can send wherever the fuck you want! And no..."

He turned his attention from the man back over to the woman that he had cut off before, his tone very dangerous at that point.

"He isn't my brother. Not anymore. He's more important than that. It's /you/ that have been hurting him! Not me! And I'll face off against all of you if I have to, and I'll do it for him! I don't give a damn if you hurt me, or talk down to me! But you're not gonna get to treat him like some fucking prize anymore! Ya wanna come at me like I'm nothing? Then fucking do it!"

Movement from the corner of Zach's eye suddenly caught his attention, and one of the men off to his right moved in to grab him and pull him away from the woman. He immediately turned on the guy and harshly grabbed his arm, keeping his footing steady and his grip firm as he shifted and moved to throw the guy through the table that was in the middle of the room before he turned on one of the others that came at him. He dodged a punch and grabbed another man's wrist, twisting hard and then wrenching it until he heard a loud snap and the guy yelled in pain as Zach threw him to the ground harshly.

Another fist came flying toward Zach's face, and he didn't move in time to dodge that one, getting knocked sideways a bit and groaning as knuckles made contact with his cheekbone. He didn't feel a crack, but he knew he was definitely going to have yet another bruise on his face, that one a fresh one, and he dodged a kick coming at him and pulled out his knife, twirling it between his fingers before lodging it into the woman's leg as she kicked at him again, drowning out her screams and twisting the knife before he pulled it out and kicked her so hard she flew back against the wall. The last one left in the room didn't make a move to go at Zach, and he kept his eyes on him and his knife in his hand, ready to act in the event that the man might change his mind. He didn't, which surprised Zach, but he didn't give it any more of his attention. Zach lashed out at the man and punched him in the face a couple of times before throwing him to the ground, then spit the blood he tasted in his mouth from the one really hard hit he'd taken onto the man's face and threw his badge at him.

"I fucking quit. You all can go to Hell."

With that, Zach turned and walked out of the room, rolling his eyes as he heard hobbled footsteps going to the door and then stopping.

"If you walk out of here, you'll be categorized as a rogue, Zachariah!"

That was enough to make Zach stop in his tracks, and he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he thought about that. A rogue. Zach was about to go rogue, even though he was never going back there once he left. The decision was made, though, and even though Zach couldn't get his mind around what he had just done, and the word 'rogue' kept bouncing around in his skull, he couldn't stay there any longer than he had. The feelings he'd been feeling suddenly made sense, and the thing he had wanted to do to them for so long had finally been done, but Zach's mind was so rattled that he didn't have any words, so he just started walking again. He was a rogue, and suddenly, the words he'd said to them about Conner /not/ being his brother were bouncing around in his head too. It made more sense at that moment. Zach loved Conner, he was /in love/ with him, and had fought the highest ranking people in the CIA for him because of how they treated him. He'd done what he had wanted to do, something he thought he wouldn't have ever done, and he was getting ready to walk away from the last seven years of his life.

He was going to pack and get out. That was all there was to it.