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angelseraphines · 2 days ago

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ೃ⁀➷ cola ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ professor!cho sang-woo x student!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this story, lolita!

˚ ༘♡ “you do understand that you are at risk of failing my course?”

˚ ༘♡ his words were severe, piercing through the tense air that had settled in his office. you stared at him, your gaze unfocused, the potency of his question sinking into your chest like a stone. seated in the small, uncomfortable chair across from his grand, imposing desk, you crossed one leg over the other, attempting to appear composed. your white leather handbag rested neatly against the chair’s legs, pristine and pale as a dove’s feather.

˚ ༘♡ it had been over a month since the two of you reached an agreement, a fragile truce cloaked in professionalism. the night you’d spent together was supposed to be a foolish mistake, forgotten and buried in the haze of poor judgment. neither of you could have known then that he would become your professor. he had laid down the rules with uncompromising clarity, no favoritism, no special treatment, no room for the past to bleed into the present.

˚ ༘♡ but now, here you were, falling behind in his financial accounting course. the missed quiz sat akin to a scar on your grade, its damage too significant to ignore. his syllabus had warned that quizzes could not be retaken under any circumstances, and yet you’d convinced yourself, naively, that he might display some leniency.

˚ ༘♡ “i am extremely sorry, professor,” you began, your voice soft, trembling slightly as you forced yourself to meet his dark eyes. “if i could get an extension…”

˚ ༘♡ “you read and signed the syllabus.” his interruption was calm but firm, a knife cutting through your plea. “i made myself clear, i don’t offer extensions.” he adjusted his glasses, the subtle motion punctuating the finality of his statement. his expression didn’t change, disappointment etched into every line of his angular face. “you’ve been a good student up to this point. i’d suggest you figure out what’s so detrimental to your focus and take care of it, if you wish to pass.”

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed hard. “yes, professor,” you managed, your voice barely audible, laced with a strained somberness. his reputation preceded him, after all, a man known for his rigorous standards and his unwillingness to tolerate mediocrity. you knew this going in, yet it didn’t lessen the weight of your failure or the anxiety clawing at your mind.

˚ ༘♡ his expression softened ever so slightly, the harsh lines of his face easing just enough to reveal a touch of humanity beneath the austere exterior. he let out an exasperated, frustrated sigh, the sound slicing through the silence. it was as if he was mulling over the cost of displaying leniency. “while i don’t typically offer extensions,” he began, his voice measured, “if you have a viable and genuine reason for your recent poor performance, i might consider granting you the opportunity for an extra credit research assignment.”

˚ ༘♡ your pulse quickened at the unexpected offer. professor cho was notorious for his unyielding policies. there were whispered stories from upperclassmen, students who had been hospitalized, grappling with extenuating circumstances, only to be met with his stony refusal to accommodate. yet here he was, extending a tree branch.

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed, steadying your voice. “you may have noticed my absence last week,” you began cautiously. “my cousin was deathly ill. we thought…” you hesitated, feeling the anguish of the words threaten to pull you under. “we thought she might not make it. i flew out to be with her. since her father passed, it’s been difficult for her, and i needed to ensure she would be okay.”

˚ ༘♡ the words hung in the air between you, solemn and grave. his brow lowered, and for the first time, there was something distinctly human in his expression, sympathy. “i’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice low and uncharacteristically gentle. “that must have been difficult. it was good of you to be there for her.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, biting back the emotion threatening to surface. speaking about it felt like peeling open a wound, and you knew if you lingered on it too long, the sadness would overwhelm you again. instead, you returned to the topic of your grade. “about the extra credit opportunity?”

˚ ༘♡ he straightened his posture, nodding as if grounding himself back into his usual composure. “i’ll email you the details tonight,” he said. there was something different in his tone now, something softer, almost resigned. he was still the same cold, stern professor, but the edges seemed less sharp, his demeanor less impenetrable. “while i encourage you to work hard to improve your grade, don’t push yourself to the point of exhaustion. it’s not worth your health.”

˚ ༘♡ “thank you, professor cho,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. there was an implicit closeness in the exchange, an understanding neither of you seemed willing to fully acknowledge. it stayed like the light fragrance of a fading perfume, delicate and undeniable.

˚ ༘♡ you stood, gathering your bag and clutching it tightly. “i need to study for my literature class, but i’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly. his eyes fixed on you for longer than expected, and then he nodded.

˚ ༘♡ as you left, offering a quiet farewell, you felt the faintest surge of something indescribable descend upon you, something that shifted in the space between professor and student, something that felt too intimate to name.

˚ ༘♡ two weeks had come and gone, and true to your word, you’d submitted the assignment: a meticulously detailed research paper on fiscal dealings across the globe. the effort had paid off. your grade was inclining upward, slowly but surely, and on the surface, everything seemed normal. but there were little things. professor cho remained as strict and unemotional as ever, but you started noticing the subtleties, a fleeting glance your way during a lecture, the brief, almost imperceptible hesitation when his hand brushed yours while returning a graded paper.

˚ ༘♡ you told yourself it was nothing, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered.

˚ ༘♡ professor cho was notorious for his exacting demeanor, but his reputation among female students extended beyond academics. it was no secret that many found him attractive, with his handsome features and reserved, enigmatic demeanor. you couldn’t pretend you weren’t one of them, he had caught your eye that night at the bar for a reason. you found yourself wondering, late at night when your thoughts strayed, if the feeling was mutual. after all, he had approached you. was it something about your appearance that had lured him in, something that loomed in his thoughts to this day?

˚ ༘♡ but such thoughts were dangerous, unspoken truths that stayed locked in your chest. they had to be.

˚ ༘♡ the winter garden was breathtaking, blanketed ina stunning layer of snow and shimmering frost. the air was crisp, and the sun burned low in the cerulean sky, casting pale light through the bare branches. you presided over your notebook on a weathered bench, furiously scribbling notes. the beauty of the scenery was lost on you, though, your fingers were stiff and red from the cold, your thin off-the-shoulder sweater and linen pants doing nothing to ward off the icy air.

˚ ༘♡ you shivered as you turned the page, and it wasn’t until you heard the crunch of footsteps on the frozen ground that you looked up.

˚ ��♡ there he was, professor cho sang-woo, standing just a few feet away. he was wrapped in a dark wool coat, the kind of warmth you could only envy in your current state. the sight of him made your breathing quicken, not because of the cold, but because of that familiar, quiet intensity in his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “good afternoon,” he greeted, his tone even but unmistakably aware of your predicament. his eyes flicked to your frostbitten nose and hands before meeting yours again. “isn’t it a bit cold to be studying outside?”

˚ ༘♡ you laughed lightly, trying to conceal your embarrassment. “good afternoon, professor cho,” you replied. “i didn’t check the temperature before leaving, and now i’m deeply regretting it.”

˚ ༘♡ he studied you for a moment longer, his expression indistinct. “you should be more mindful,” he murmured, the severity in his words softened by something unexpected, worry.

˚ ༘♡ before you could reply, he shrugged off his overcoat, stepping forward to drape it over your shoulders. the fabric was heavy and luxurious, and you went still under the weight of both the gesture and the coat.

˚ ༘♡ “you’ll catch a cold like this,” he said simply, his tone quieter now, bordering on gentle.

˚ ༘♡ the gesture was so unexpected, that you found yourself at a loss for words for a minute. “thank you,” you managed, your voice barely audible. his coat carried the faded scent of cedar and winter air, and it wrapped around you like a shield against the biting chill.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t say anything else, just nodded slightly, his hands slipping back into his pockets as he took a step back. there was an indication of something in his expression, apprehension, maybe even tenderness, but it was gone before you could be sure.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t stay out here too long,” he said, his voice earnest but laced with a near imperceptible softness.

˚ ༘♡ “i’ll leave once i finish this set of notes…” you replied, your words fading as you motioned toward your notebook, “and your coat…”

˚ ༘♡ he interrupted swiftly, “you can return it whenever it’s convenient. i’ll be in my office.” his gaze intent on you for a vanishing instance before he nodded, “i’ll see you another day.” with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you without a chance to say goodbye.

˚ ༘♡ later that evening, your friends noticed the coat neatly placed over your chair. its rich wool and vintage style drew immediate attention and flattering compliments with a sliver of buried envy.

˚ ༘♡ “where’d you get such a nice coat?” one of them asked, interest noticeable in her bright eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “it belonged to my grandmother,” you lied effortlessly, your fingers brushing over the fabric as though it held some sentimental value. “it was passed down to me.”

˚ ༘♡ another friend, a male peer a couple of years older than you who had taken professor cho’s business class and failed it with bitter resentment, narrowed his eyes. “doesn’t professor cho have a coat like that?”

˚ ༘♡ his remark was one you found unwelcome and unnerving, yet no one seemed to pay him any mind. the conversation shifted quickly, much to your relief, as another friend launched into a tirade about her recent breakup. the focus was off you, and you exhaled silently, grateful for the distraction, but sorrowful for your close friend, her tragedy might have saved you the risk of suspicion.

˚ ༘♡ the next morning, when the campus was still quiet, you made your way to his office. you’d waited until you were confident he wouldn’t be there, unwilling to face him directly. the coat, carefully folded, was left on personally corner of his desk. a small note, written in your neat handwriting, sat on top, that read, “thank you for your kindness. it meant a lot.”

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated for a short while, staring at the note as if it might reveal too much. shaking your head, you placed it down and stepped back. the idea of thanking him in person felt too vulnerable, too revealing. you didn’t want to seem like some hopelessly infatuated girl, clinging to a singular polite act.

˚ ༘♡ with one last glance, you left his office, closing the door gently behind you. the feeling of the coat’s absence left you oddly empty, as though something intangible had been exchanged and lost.

˚ ༘♡ classes carried on as they always did, predictable in their routine but ridden with an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t quite shake. professor cho remained his ordinary self, strict and distant, but there were still those instances. quick eye contact that went on longer than it should have, the almost indistinguishable way his presence seemed to stretch when he was near you, as though tethered by something unsaid. you tried to dismiss it, to focus on your coursework, but the effort felt futile. those small gestures, though subtle, clawed at the foundation of your concentration.

˚ ༘♡ after a grueling day filled with back-to-back classes, your body ached with exhaustion, and all you wanted was a some peace and quiet. but as you packed your things to leave, your male friend, the same one who had failed professor cho’s course, caught up with you in the corridor. his persistence was palpable as he asked if he could speak to you in private. you tried to make an excuse, desperate to avoid the interaction, but he was relentless, and eventually, you agreed with a sigh.

˚ ༘♡ the conversation quickly turned to something you had been dreading. he asked you out, his attitude bordering on arrogance, as though he had already assumed your answer would be yes. you weren’t naive, you’d known for months that he was interested. he was a close friend of your best friend’s ex-boyfriend and had made it no secret, pestering them both to set the two of you up.

˚ ༘♡ but you couldn’t stand him. his cocky demeanor scraped on your nerves, and his delinquent mindset made you wary. still, you tried to let him down gently, choosing your words carefully, hoping to soften the blow.

˚ ༘♡ it didn’t work. his reaction was immediate and venomous, his face twisting in anger. “you’re such a stuck-up bitch,” he spat, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads in the hallway. the insult stung more than you’d expected, the words cutting into your already frayed composure.

˚ ༘♡ you stood motionless for a lasting minute, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, but the day’s troubles was too much. without another word, you turned and stepped away, the sound of his muttered curses chasing after you. the hallway blurred around you as the first tears fell, hot and unwelcome.

˚ ༘♡ by the time you stepped outside, the sky had descended into night, a blanket of stars casting a faint glow over the campus. the moonlight illuminated your tear-streaked face, streaks of black mascara smudged against your skin. you felt exposed and disheveled, a physical manifestation of your unraveling emotions.

˚ ༘♡ your goal was simple, get to the bus station and back to your dormitory as quickly as possible. the cold night air bit at your cheeks, making you wish you’d brought a scarf. but as you reached into your bag for your phone, your stomach dropped. it wasn’t there.

˚ ༘♡ a terrible realization hit you all at once, you must have left your belongings behind in the linguistics lecture hall. a frustrated sigh escaped your lips, mingling with the frosty air. it was the last thing you wanted to deal with after everything, and with your instructor having left, the classroom was locked with your belongings inside.

˚ ༘♡ to your dismay, as you approached the bus stop, you saw him, professor cho sang-woo, of all people. he must have been leaving after a long evening of grading in his office. he was standing by the curb, pulling out a cigarette from a silver case with the same precision he seemed to handle everything. you didn’t move, debating whether to turn away and avoid the humiliation of being seen like this, but it was too late. he flicked his lighter, the small flame briefly illuminating his sharp features, and as he tucked it back into the pocket of his blazer, his gaze caught yours.

˚ ༘♡ he paused, taking a drag from his cigarette. the glow of its ember reflected faintly in the dark, cold night. “what happened? are you alright?” his voice, as steady as ever, carried a thread of concern that you hadn’t expected.

˚ ༘♡ you tried to gather some semblance of serenity, forcing a weak smile through your tears. “we keep running into each other,” you said lightly, though your voice struggled under the burden of your emotions.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t smile back. instead, he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your tear-streaked face and the faint smudges of mascara under your eyes. “you’ve been crying,” he said.

˚ ༘♡ you quickly wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he stopped you with a quiet, “don’t.” reaching into the pocket of his coat, he pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, one you recognized, he often used it to polish his glasses. he held it out to you, his actions strangely tender.

˚ ༘♡ “i won’t press for details,” he said, his voice low, “but seeing you out here like this… it’s troubling for me.” a faint cloud of smoke curled from his lips as he spoke.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, gripping the handkerchief in your hands. the fabric was soft, clean, and smelled faintly of cedar and the faint musk of his cologne. “it’s nothing,” you mumbled, dabbing at your face. “i just… i left my purse in class. it has my phone, my bus pass, everything. and then this guy, he’s supposed to be my friend, pulled me aside earlier and asked me out. after i said no, he got angry, started yelling. said some awful things.”

˚ ༘♡ you bit your lip, your voice quivering, but you managed to add his name, the words feeling loathsome on your tongue.

˚ ༘♡ professor cho’s jaw tightened slightly, his composure cracking just enough to show his displeasure. “what an asshole,” he muttered, taking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling a sharp plume of smoke. the unexpected vulgarity caught you off guard. you’d never heard him speak so bluntly, so unguarded. “i remember him. he was in my class last year. didn’t turn in a single assignment, barely showed up. he is not the sort of young man you’d want to associate with.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t help it, you laughed, a hushed, strained sound that carried genuine amusement. his lips curved slightly, pleased that he’d managed to lighten your mood, even if just for a second.

˚ ༘♡ he tilted his head, studying you carefully. “you said you left your bus pass in your purse?”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded.

˚ ༘♡ he considered this for a minute before saying, “if you’d like, i can drive you back to your dormitory. it’s not far, and I know the route. my car’s in the faculty lot.”

˚ ༘♡ you blinked at him, startled by the offer. “really? you’d do that?”

˚ ༘♡ “it’s nothing,” he said simply, extinguishing his cigarette against the edge of a trash can and tossing the burnt end away. “you shouldn’t have to wait out here alone like this.”

˚ ༘♡ “thank you,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze with gratitude.

˚ ༘♡ he nodded and motioned for you to follow. as you walked beside him toward the faculty parking lot, the night air seemed a little less cold, the distress of the evening a little lighter. there was something strangely comforting about his presence, a stability that made you feel, if only for this night, that everything may be okay.

˚ ༘♡ his car was sleek, an understated black sedan that gleamed faintly under the dim glow of the parking lot lights. it exuded the same quiet sophistication as its owner. he walked ahead, opening the passenger door for you without a word, his demeanor calm but his eyes flickering with a subdued concern. you slid into the seat, the soft leather cool against your skin, and he closed the door gently before circling around to the driver’s side.

˚ ༘♡ the drive back to your dormitory was steeped in silence. the hum of the engine filled the void, rhythmic and constant, a soothing backdrop to your turbulent thoughts. though you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, you could feel his gaze darting toward you every so often, quick glances meant to check on you without drawing attention. your tears had stopped, but your face still bore the evidence of them, smudged mascara, blotchy redness, a weariness you couldn’t quite hide.

˚ ༘♡ when he finally pulled into the dormitory parking lot, the rows of empty cars seemed ghostly in the faint moonlight. he parked smoothly, the stillness settling in the air as he turned off the engine. for a brief period of time, neither of you moved.

˚ ༘♡ he stepped out first, rounding the car to open your door once more. you followed, the cold night air pricking at your skin as you stood beside him. his posture was relaxed, but there was an unspoken tension between the two of you.

˚ ༘♡ “are you sure you’ll be alright?” he asked, his voice low and sincere, though his eyes searched yours for any trace of uncertainty.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “i will. thank you, again. for everything.”

˚ ༘♡ your gaze locked with his then, and right then, the world around you seemed to fade. the misery of the evening, the lingering emotions, and the vulnerability you felt collided into a singular, reckless impulse. before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t pull away. instead, his hands rested lightly on your arms as he kissed you back, his movements slow and deliberate, almost tender. the passionate embrace stretched, suspended in time, filled with affectionate understanding and the quiet ruination of boundaries you had both carefully maintained until now.

˚ ༘♡ when you finally parted, you stared at each other in silence, breaths mingling in the frigid, icy air. the reality of what you’d just done lingered between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the line you had crossed, the agreement broken. and yet, there was no regret in his eyes, and you felt none in your chest.

˚ ༘♡ he cleared his throat, his voice measured but somewhat huskier than usual. “i’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

˚ ༘♡ a soft smile spread across your lips, gentle but laced with something deeper. “i will,” you replied.

˚ ༘♡ as he walked back to his car, you turned toward the dormitory entrance, your heart ached with something bittersweet. you knew everything had changed, even if neither of you would speak it in words.

a/n: part two of my professor cho sang-woo series!!! please let me know your thoughts or if you have any requests!! i plan to continue this series, but i am also considering doing a zombie apocalypse sang-woo fanfiction and maybe one where he is the reader’s boss!! 🤍

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hinamie · 14 hours ago

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;;

#we had to put my cat down today after 17 years ive never felt such helpless grief before #we'd taken her to the vet early jan and got her on medication that was working for a while but she just started declining so quickly #she wasnt eating she'd gotten so frail and lethargic and her joints were so weak she could hardly support her own weight #so i know it was for the best i know shes not in pain anymore i know she lived and died loved but that was my best friend that was my girl #i loved that cat more than myself what am i supposed to do without her #i get that this is an inevitable part of pet ownership but this is my first she was my first #i keep hoping i'll wake up and hear her and see her happy and healthy and back to normal #ill be fine but right now it all just hurts

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clockwayswrites · 2 days ago

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I made myself sad with the last part of ‘City Pigeons Bleed Green’ and the whole Annalise thing (and then shared it to make all of you sad too). It wound back to me saying in a server, mostly joking, that now I need to make an AU of my AU where Annalise lives. And as @any-mouse pointed out here by themselves: this crossover is full of realms. And then I showered and had too many thoughts. So have some of them here!

Bruce and Annalise met at boarding school. Not the same boarding school, obviously, how crass. They went to an all boys and all girls school respectively, but they were ‘sibling’ schools and so would hold certain events together. Annalise was an awkward girl, all limbs. She was too tall, too smart, too in the clouds. She was weird. But so was Bruce. He decided they could be the weird kids together.

They became something of confidants for each other—for all the secret things inside themselves no one else would understand, not really.

They didn’t run in exactly the same circles, the Wayne line was far more grand than the Linwood line, but Bruce did his best to stay in touch even as they grew up. That fell apart some when training and Batman consumed his life. That’s when Annalise, in an effort to be normal ended up making some poor decisions and listening to the wrong people.

In the AU of the AU, Bruce asks her to visit before the baby is born. As recklessly caring as he can be, he offered to say he was the child’s father. He would either set Annalise and the baby up to be comfortable, or they could get married. Divorce was always an option later, should either of them find real love. Of course Bruce insists on the best doctors and they find what was missed: a risk to the lives of both Annalise and the baby.

Bruce and Annalise basically end up in a queer platonic relationship together, raising ‘their’ child.

Instead of playboy Brucie, Bruce’s cover becomes that of the slightly hapless but very loving dad. Why on earth is he so fit then? Well, he spends so much time chasing after children! After all they adopted that circus boy, how patient with Bruce Annalise is. Not to mention the other several—wait, when did they get so many?

Well, see, they took in a child from the streets, yes, Park Row, awful place—though better now with the Martha Wayne Foundation’s efforts. And then there was that whole thing when Annalise found out that Tim Drake was being horrible neglected. Such big hears that family.

And when Dick is feeling stifled, he has a little sibling to focus on. To be useful to. (And Annalise has long talks with Bruce.)

And when Jason finds out about Catherine, Annalise is there—a mother to talk to. (And Annalise has long talks with Bruce.)

(And Annalise has long talks with Bruce.)

And one little hilarious scene in my head:

Jim stared up the steps of Wayne manner. Officer Montoya stared back. She was clearly off the clock. Her hair down and dressed more casually than Jim had ever seen. He didn’t know Montoya could do casual. He supposed casual made sense though, considering the hickies on her neck. Jim pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you’re not sleeping with Bruce Wayne.” “What?! Ew, no. Not ew as in—I’m sure he’s very attractive to people into that but no. No, I am definitely not sleeping with Bruce Wayne.” "Well, that's a relief—" “I am, however, sleeping with his wife.”

#dp x dc #I GUESS????#au of an au #city pigeons #what has my life come to #bruce/oc QPR

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abandoned-quiche · 3 days ago

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Chapter IV - The Killing Blow

The Narrator: You're on a path in the—

Voice of The Cheated: Okay, what the FUCK was that!?

The Narrator: —woods... excuse me?

Voice of The Cheated: He attacked us while it was still our turn! That's bullshit!

The Narrator: Okay, first of all, where the hell are you? You're supposed to be on a—

Voice of The Cheated: Yeah, yeah, on a path in the woods, we know. I think it's safe to say we're well past that now.

Voice of The Stubborn: Who CARES where we are? If we respawn in the cabin—

Voice of The Contrarian: Not sure I'd consider this a cabin anymore, really.

Voice of The Stubborn: —that just means we can get back to fighting him faster!

Voice of The Contrarian: No reaction? Really?

Voice of The Stubborn: If he attacks us during our turn, that just means we have to spend less time DELIBERATING, and more time ATTACKING! Now let's stop wasting time talking, and go FIGHT HIM!

The Narrator: Well, at least you seem to have your priorities straight, but—

Voice of The Skeptic: But *how* did he do that? We can't do anything but react - how is *he* any different?

Voice of The Opportunist: Now THAT'S a good question! Maybe he isn't different. Maybe we can attack during his turn as well!

Voice of The Stubborn: This is perfect! It means we don't have to waste all that time dodging! We can just get straight to the point.

Voice of The Hunted: No! Dodging is what keeps us alive—we *have* to keep dodging. Keep dodging until an opportunity presents itself.

Voice of The Opportunist: I like this guy. He's the only one speaking any sense around here, really.

Voice of The Paranoid: Are you all idiots? Don't any of you realize what this means? We're not safe *anywhere!* He can attack us *any time he wants!* And yet he hasn't done it until now - he's been holding back on us. Who knows what else he can do? Who knows what else he hasn't shown us?

Voice of The Broken: Exactly. It's hopeless. He's so much more powerful we could ever be. He's just been toying with us. We might as well save ourselves the suffering and just kill ourselves now.

Voice of The Smitten: It's never hopeless, as long as we have true love on our side! We must keep trying until we are reunited with our beloved, no matter how many times we have to slowly and painfully die.

Voice of The Cheated: Oh, there you are! You were quiet for so long, I thought we'd finally gotten rid of you. I think that's a new silence record, honestly.

Voice of The Cold: I was hoping he'd stay quiet forever. He never has anything new to say. It's always the same thing over, and over, and over...

Voice of The Smitten: I may be saying the same things over and over, but it is because they need to be said! Who else will express the fiery passions held deep within our heart if not myself?

Voice of The Opportunist: I think I speak for us all when I say: I don't like this guy. I think he's annoying.

The Narrator: Okay, no, hold on, how many of you are there? There's only supposed to be one of you! How many times have you been here?

Voice of The Hero: Um... I think... ten? Or... maybe eleven?

The Narrator: Eleven... oh, goodness, this is— this is... unfathomably catastrophic. Are you absolutely certain?

Voice of The Hero: Well, no, it's just an estimate.

Voice of The Cheated: I am. I've been keeping track. It's eleven.

The Narrator: This is... horrible. Every world you've been to has been damned to oblivion. You know that, right?

Voice of The Skeptic: We know that's what you've TOLD us.

Voice of The Opportunist: And we believe it wholeheartedly! You've never led us astray before. If anything, I think we could stand to listen to you *more.* That's probably why we've failed all those other times, if we're being honest.

Voice of The Hero: Uh, for clarification, our previous failures weren't for lack of trying. We did try! It's just that this is... EXTREMELY difficult.

Voice of The Broken: It's TOO difficult. Why can't any of you understand that it simply can't be done?

Voice of The Contrarian: They're lying. In fact, we've gone out of our way to disobey your instructions every step of the way! Honestly, we're just a bunch of troublemaking rapscallions, up to no good.

Voice of The Hero: Ignore him, he's just trying to get a reaction out of you. Just... trust me on this one.

The Narrator: I see... That's... horrible. But I suppose there's nothing to be done about it now. We just have to make the best of what we have. Let's just... put that out of our minds right now, and focus on anything else. Like, say, slaying the Princess. Actually, you keep talking about a "he"—who's "he?"

Voice of The Hero: The... skeleton. Over there?

The Narrator: The—...huh. I didn't even notice that was there. That's... not supposed to be there. What on earth did you do?

Voice of The Cold: Does it matter what we did? The end result is the same either way. There's a skeleton, and we have to fight him.

The Narrator: Yes, it *does* matter, actually, because if you've done something to cause there to be... a "skeleton," for whatever reason, then that means you can do something to cause there to *not* be a "skeleton."

Voice of The Hero: Wait, we can? How can we do that?

The Narrator: No, nevermind, I've already said too much.

Voice of The Contrarian: Oh, well now I *have* to know!

The Narrator: No, you don't. Believe me when I say that knowing will only make your job harder than it already is.

Voice of The Skeptic: Try to hide it from us all you like. We'll find out one way or another.

The Narrator: I'm sure you will. Now, is there still a Princess?

Voice of The Smitten: Of course there is! I'm sure of it. The Princess is right beyond that dastardly knave who's been trying to keep us apart.

Voice of The Hero: He means the skeleton.

The Narrator: Well, that's good, because that means things aren't completely ruined yet. You still have a chance to do this right. But for the love of everything, the princess is NOT "your beloved."

Voice of The Contrarian: Wait. What do you mean "completely ruined?"

The Narrator: Nothing. Pretend I didn't say that.

Voice of The Cold: It sounds interesting. I'd like to see what would happen if we ruined everything. It certainly sounds more exciting than fighting this skeleton over and over and over...

The Narrator: No. This is an INCREDIBLY dangerous train of thought. It's time to stop ruminating, and start ACTING. Just focus up, steel your nerves, and slay the Princess. Or, skeleton. Slay the skeleton, and then slay the Princess. Right. Now.

Voice of The Stubborn: FINALLY. Let's go slay ourselves a skeleton.

Voice of The Broken: Or we could do what he asks us to and leave.

Voice of The Opportunist: That's what I've been SAYING! See, this guy gets it. The skeleton's the one with the power here, after all.

Voice of The Hero: You've been saying that, yeah, but you've also been saying, like, million other different things. It's hard to tell what your opinion actually is at this point.

Voice of The Contrarian: Or, hear me out...

Voice of The Hero: Let me guess. We throw the blade out the window?

Voice of The Contrarian: NOW you're getting it!

Voice of The Stubborn: Ugh, stop wasting time already! I want to FIGHT!

* [Walk up to the skeleton.]

Voice of The Opportunist: That's a good move. Definitely the right decision.

*hmm. that expression. that's—

Voice of The Cheated: Yeah, yeah, expression of someone with a lot of internal conflict, yadda yadda yadda, we've heard it already!

Voice of The Cold: He's so dull. He hasn't said anything new in forever.

Voice of The Opportunist: Hey, have we tried attacking him during his opening monologue? That might be a good idea.

Voice of The Stubborn: YES!

The Narrator: Before the skeleton can even finish talking, you lunge toward him, blade held low. But by the time you land, he's—

Voice of The Cheated: Already somewhere else? Yeah. We know. Typical.

The Narrator: Correct.

* Hold on. What happened to me being the decider?

Voice of The Paranoid: Oh, so *now* you want to be the one making the decisions? The last six times you pushed all the responsibility of fighting onto us until something new happened.

* I thought you were the Voice of The Paranoid, not the Voice of The Petty.

Voice of The Paranoid: What—?

The Narrator: Muscle memory and reflex guide you as you evade the skeleton's attacks, but without your full attention on the fight, your performance is imperfect. A few scrapes from bones whizzing past you, a few burns from searing hot beams of light grazing your skin. Why does the skeleton have lasers?

*guess we're getting right into it, huh?

Voice of The Hunted: Stop arguing! The fight has begun! We have to keep on our toes.

Voice of The Paranoid: Now look what you've done!

Voice of The Broken: Why even bother? It won't matter in the end.

Voice of The Stubborn: He can't dodge forever. Just keep attacking.

Voice of The Hunted: No. We have to eat. Eating is important to stay healthy, and we need to be in the best condition possible if we're going to win this.

Voice of The Contrarian: Ooh, here's an idea! What if we scarf down all our food right now?

Voice of The Opportunist: You know, that's a good point—we don't know how long we'll be alive this time. We should eat as much as we can while we have the chance. Life's all about enjoying the good things while they last!

Voice of The Hunted: NO! We have to ration our food.

* We don't need to eat yet. If we ate it now we wouldn't benefit from its full potential. [Fight.]

Voice of The Hunted: This is bad too! If we're not in proper shape for his next attack we can't survive as many hits!

The Narrator: You lunge at him again, but—

Voice of The Cheated: Yeah, yeah, we know. He dodges.

*our reports—

Voice of The Stubborn: We've heard all this before! Get on with it!

Voice of The Skeptic: Am I the only one who thinks it might be important to figure out what he's talking about?

Voice of The Hunted: His words are just a distraction. Don't pay attention to them. Information doesn't matter. What matters is staying alive.

The Narrator: You tune out the skeleton's words until he begins to attack again. KARMA and adrenaline coursing through your veins, your reflexes carry you through the skeleton's onslaught. As you leap over one of the skeleton's spells, however, your leg falls below the rest of your body, dragging across the bones, its skin shredding.

Voice of The Paranoid: Shit!

Voice of The Cheated: Shit, that hurts.

Voice of The Cold: I've told you. This would be so much easier if you just stopped feeling pain.

Voice of The Hunted: No. Pain keeps us humble. Pain keeps us nimble. Pain keeps us alive.

* [Fight.]

*until suddenly—

Voice of The Stubborn: I'm TIRED of waiting! We attack him again!

The Narrator: He dodges again.

*wow. not even gonna let me finish talking, huh? your impatience has really damaged you, hasn't it?

Voice of The Stubborn: We attack.

The Narrator: He dodges again.

*i know what type of person you are. you—

The Narrator: Suddenly, he begins attacking you again mid-sentence.

Voice of The Hunted: Shit! Dodge, dodge!

Voice of The Stubborn: This is taking too long. What happened to attacking during his turn?

Voice of The Cheated: Now, I'm all for giving him a taste of his own medicine, but—

Voice of The Stubborn: We attack. Again.

The Narrator: I wouldn't recommend this course of action, but I suppose there's nothing I can do. You make no attempt to avoid his attacks, instead charging straight for him while his magic razes your lower body. Once again, he effortlessly dodges your swing. I hope you know what you're doing.

* What the hell was that?

Voice of The Stubborn: I'm doing what you all are too cowardly to do and FIGHTING! We attack again!

* Okay, no. We'll die if we do that again. We're eating. [Eat the Legendary Hero.]

Voice of The Hunted: Finally!

Voice of The Hero: Still not comfortable eating something called that.

Voice of The Smitten: I'd brave any amount of discomfort if it means getting us closer to our beloved.

Voice of The Hero: You've been surprisingly quiet lately.

Voice of The Cheated: Shhh. I like him better this way.

Voice of The Smitten: How dare you! If you find my passions so offensive, perhaps you should go somewhere else! I will not let my feelings be stifled for the sake of others. In fact, I'm going to talk more from now on.

Voice of The Hero: Now look what you've done.

The Narrator: You eat the Legendary Hero. The flavors of the sandwich's ingredients dance across your taste buds in tandem, creating something greater than any of them could ever be individually—

Voice of The Cheated: We know how it tastes.

The Narrator: Fine. As chunks slide down your throat, they dissipate into nothing. You feel your pain ease up as your body, as if by magic, heals at a remarkable pace.

* Actually, can we speed this along? We've seen this enough times already. We know how it goes. I attack, he dodges, he attacks, I dodge, and every once in a while I eat something. You can just describe the rest of the battle, right?

The Narrator: This feels reckless. Are you really going to relinquish your decision-making ability just to make things go a little faster? What if that bloodthirsty one takes control of you again?

Voice of The Paranoid: I'll hold him back.

Voice of The Hero: Ditto. He won't get another chance to do that again.

The Narrator: Well, alright then. You fall into the rhythm of the battle, the skeleton throwing jagged reflections of his own body parts at you while you gracefully dance out of the way of them all. Sometimes you find yourself falling towards the ceiling, or weaving around white hot beams of light, but none of it seems to faze you anymore. For every attack you avoid with near perfection, you dish out another swing of your own. But the skeleton evades yours flawlessly and without effort. Or so it seems, until...

*ugh... that being said...

Voice of The Cheated: Oh, we're wise to your tricks now!

Voice of The Smitten: Your devilish deceptions shan't fool us anymore! You are the only thing standing between us and the Princess, and we will not rest until you are vanquished!

Voice of The Opportunist: Honestly, I'm shocked anyone fell for this. It was obvious from the beginning he was just trying to get the upper hand.

Voice of The Hero: You were the first one to suggest we take his offer!

Voice of The Paranoid: Focus!!!

Voice of The Stubborn: WE ATTACK!

The Narrator: He dodges.

Voice of The Hero: Shit, sorry! I forgot!

* It's fine. Narrator, you can speed things up again.

The Narrator: Right. Whatever. What else am I good for. You continue to exchange near-blows as the skeleton- hold on, what was that he said about you "consuming timelines?" That's rich, coming from *him.* He's the one preventing you from saving the world in the first place! Whatever. You keep dodging until it's time for his "special attack."

Voice of The Hero: Wait, what? For real? We made it?

Voice of The Paranoid: FOCUS!

Voice of The Hero: Shit!

Voice of The Stubborn: WE ATTACK!

The Narrator: He dodges. Again.

*heh, didja really think you would be able to-

Voice of The Opportunist: NOW!

The Narrator: You attack again, this time catching him off guard. In a single strike, an enormous gash forms across his entire body.

Voice of The Cheated: Holy shit! We did it! We actually did it!

Voice of The Stubborn: YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Voice of The Hero: Wait, really? We've done it?

Voice of The Opportunist: We've done it! And it was all thanks to me, really. Where would you be without me?

Voice of The Cold: About time. This whole routine was getting so dull.

Voice of The Broken: What...?

Voice of The Skeptic: Finally. We can finally find some answers.

Voice of The Smitten: More importantly, we can finally see our beloved!

Voice of The Hunted: No time to celebrate. We never know when another threat might present itself. We have to stay on guard.

Voice of The Paranoid: No, we can't have defeated him. It can't have been that easy.

The Narrator: It was. It's over.

Voice of The Contrarian: As amazing as I'm sure your reaction to it would be, I'm going to refrain from killing all of us right now because I *really* don't want to go through all of that again.

Voice of The Hero: How generous.

* [Proceed.]

The Narrator: You make your way to the end of the corridor. There... isn't a staircase leading to a basement, but after the random skeleton, this is honestly the least of my concerns. You walk through the grey halls, the cold stone chilling your feet, until you find a doorway to a grand throne room. Grass and flowers peek through the frame, as if inviting you to step inside. If the Princess lives here... no, that doesn't work here, does it?

* [Enter.]

The Narrator: You stand inside a regal throne room, the walls shining gold. In the center lies a throne, seated in a bed of golden flowers. In front of it, the silhouette of...

OH! GREETINGS, BIRD MONSTER!

Voice of The Smitten: There he is! Our beloved!

The Narrator: ...a second skeleton wearing a blonde wig.

something's wrong with my copy of Slay the Princess

#i may have gotten a bit carried away.

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aangelinakii · 3 days ago

Text

LOVE BITES.

— am i making you feel sick?

summary : there was always something up with your boyfriend; he would only ever take you out on dates at night, but only if he wasn't on patrol, and that was a big if. if one of you went round the other's and you made a nice italian dish with garlic, he would apologise and say he didn't feel well. if walking the city at night, he'd offer to take you the long way home, and you noticed he always said that as the cathedral building began to loom into view. he couldn't be... no... surely not... but you had to ask. was your boyfriend a vampire?

note : dark themes possibly because dick is a thirsty lil vamp

note 2 : anf also do you get the title..... because i'm saying love bites as in the verb because hés a vampire but also lovebites like lovebites like.... 😂😂😂😂😂😅😅😅😅😅 ok bye go read now xxxxx

from up here, the streaking city of gotham seemed so small. darkness enveloped the roof of the fire escape you'd dashed up to after dinner — which you'd cooked and remembered to leave garlic out of — but the streets below were still struck with headlights and tail-lights and everything in between.

he'd eaten all the plates you'd offered him, and even shared a bowl of homemade eton mess, but he still looked a bit peaky; even in the shadows the moonlight cast along the divots of his face.

"you okay? still hungry?" you hummed, causing him to glance back at you from the busy streets below.

the corner of his mouth curled up, revealing one of those sharp canines of his, which twinkled in the moon above. "like you have no idea," he chuckled, turning back to where he leaned against the railing.

"oh— i think there was some more left over," you responded quickly, gesturing back to the fire escape door being held open by a brick dick had found up here. "it'll be warm still."

with that, you were about to walk back down the stairs to your apartment, but, before you could move, dick extended his arm around your shoulders and pulled you back into his side. despite his layers, you'd noticed he was almost always as cold as ice. "hey, i'm joking," he said, but there was something lying beneath his upbeat tone. "don't worry about it. let's stay here for a bit still, i'm enjoying myself."

despite the pang of worry in your chest, his words didn't fail to bring a smile to your face, and you instinctively snaked an arm around his waist, elbow pressing into his jacket to hold him there and keep him there.

for a few long, tranquil moments, there was nothing else but you and him, the light buzz of the city mere white noise soothing you further.

but it seemed no matter how perfect everything was — how perfect he was — you couldn't shake it from your mind.

"what are you?"

the words swam from your lips like a stream that trickles along the edge of a damp forest, clustered with thick roots and fallen leaves. you didn't look up when you spoke, lids half-hung over your eyes, the building across the way standing in the lower half of your vision.

under your arm, dick's frame shifted; you could feel him shimmy to peer at you, his noir waves brushing along your forehead. the breath of a chuckle passed his own lips. "what do you mean? i'm your boyfriend."

he said it like it was obvious — because why wouldn't it be?

"i'm your boyfriend and i love you," he returned, holding you tighter. you could practically feel his smile against the side of your head.

still, your own smile couldn't help but grow, and you sank further into his hold, another arm coming to wrap around his waist. "well, i know that," you laughed, though struggling to keep it down where it bubbled: this was supposed to be serious. but when was dick ever serious?

taking a haste breath in, you pried your head away from him until his whole face came into view, your arms still holding each other close. "but i mean what are you?"

by now, dick had certainly noticed the swift change in your tone, the way your smile had faded, its remnants the ghost of lines at the corners of your mouth. like a superimposition fading into the other image, his own smile began to drop to a neutral line, eyes glinting with curiosity.

his hands slowly travelled up from your back, the coolness of his touch even harsh through your coat and the layers beneath. as his fingers ran along the sculpture of your clothed shoulder blades, a chill started at the base of your vertebrae and danced down to your feet.

"i can be anything you want me to be."

his eyes looked between yours, some sort of earnesty lingering in those dark, dark pupils. almost as if you'd stare so deep and glimpse his past lives.

"i can be your soldier, your knight, your poet, your playwright."

perhaps not almost — perhaps you were.

similarly as his hands had moved, yours drifted to his chest, where the firmness of his pecs caused a swell to swirl in your knees.

"if you take all that away," you began, voice quieter now, a waver in its steadiness, "what would you be?"

never before had you seen dick look anything like this... a quiver of his bottom lip, one finger twitched on your shoulder blade in uncertainty, a crease formed between his brows; like it would all spill out any moment now...

"you wouldn't like it."

even now when he spoke it was as though he couldn't bear to hear himself talk; perhaps less that you wouldn't like it, that he didn't like it.

your hands rose and found the curved base of his shoulders, touch soft and warm, the latter a contrast to his. "i like you, dick. i love you, in fact. i trust you and i love you. but you have some... quirks — as we all do — and i think i want you to be honest with me."

dick lowered his gaze, fingers instinctively gripping you tighter, holding you closer. but it was like he couldn't stand himself.

"we never see each other during the day — which, fair enough," you began, voice finding its strength now. "but it gets to a point where you won't eat the things i make if there's a specific ingredient, or you'll leave the bathroom immediately when i come in, even if you're just washing your hands and i need something from the cabinet."

with each word his separate winces grew greater; a twitch of his eyebrow, a flare of his nostrils, a scowl that disappears as soon as he makes it.

but once you'd finished your bit, dick didn't speak.

for a single moment, his hands moved to ghost over your shoulder blades, where they'd previously sat fine. was he too cold or were you too warm?

when you squeezed his shoulders lightly, they came back, just as cold as ever.

"i'm a monster."

the words seemed to reverberate along the rooftop. even though you knew what you were waiting for, the anguished tone that came from him caused you to crumble, that swell returning to your knees.

you knew he'd hate you to pity him, but you felt your eyebrows curve and eyes soften and something throbbed in your chest.

your hands found the base of his jaw, and carefully lifted his head so he'd meet your gaze once again. "you would never be a monster. i know what you are, but i also know who you are. that never changed; will never change. okay?"

deep in his throat, his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down a damp thickness, but he brought himself to nod.

"you said you were hungry?"

for a couple beats, dick stared at you with a furrow in his brows — and then his eyes lit in recognition, but like when a red light goes off, not when a lightbulb ignites.

"no. no, absolutely not." he shook his head, attempting to shrug off your soft touch, the weight of his own hands disappearing from your back. but you didn't back down.

"dick, i trust you," you retorted, hands lowering to where his neck met his shoulders, firm but loving. "i– i don't know how this works, but... it's okay. do it, it's okay."

although he'd stopped in his tracks, eyeing you, half in curiosity, half in contempt. you wouldn't do this. surely not.

one hand came off his neck, and you tilted your head to the side, bringing your fingers to the collar of your jacket.

soft flesh, tender; a quickly-beating, thumping pulse.

dick could hear it, practically taste it, and his own heart began pumping, hammering, blood rushing to his ears.

a force inside him, gribbing him from his stomach, was holding him back; but a pair of hands was shoving him forward, that devil on his shoulder whispering in his ear. feed, feed, feed.

the turmoil was evident in his face, and the hand still on his shoulder trailed down to his wrist; thumb on veins, his blood was racing faster than you'd ever felt it. you pulled him forward. "it's okay," you reassured him again.

"are you... are you sure? i mean... you've never met someone like me. i don't— i don't usually... feed on living people."

god, he felt stupid saying all these things out loud. but he needed to remind himself: this is what he was. no changing it now. no choices left.

ignoring the thuddering against your rib cage, you urged him closer with another tug on his wrist, never removing your gaze from his. "i'm more than sure. i think."

he couldn't ignore the certainty in your tone, your firm answer; couldn't ignore the hearty, tender scent filling his senses.

one hand came to carefully grip the back of your head, holding it in place, neck perfect for him to sink his teeth into. the other found its old place upon your shoulder blades, a soft touch to distract you from his violence.

he was close; so close his breath was grazing the pulse in your neck, a sensation both hot and cold, both blood-curdling and nauseating, but also passionate and loving. whatever he would do to you, he'd do it with utmost care.

a whisper in your ear, "tell me if you feel sick."

and then needle broke thread, fangs into flesh.

a gasp echoed in the air, hanging thick and then swirling into the streets below, to be caught up in the smog of the cars. your hands found his broad back, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, balling it in fists.

much like getting blood taken at the doctors, it was piercing on impact, but lulling as it continued.

another gasp fell from your mouth as something warm dribbled from the new wound, down your cold neck, and a serpent slithered down to lap it up carefully.

beneath your touch, dick seemed to feel stronger, his already-large muscles thickening.

to live like this was to kill yourself slowly, unless you had vessels to kill on your behalf. would you be that vessel forever?

it ended with a soft kiss against the stinging fang-wounds, and the pain ceased.

when dick finally pulled away, his lips were plump and pink, stained with what ran through your every living moment, and he was breathless, chest heaving — yours wasn't any different, a combination of shock and energy drain.

"was that okay?" dick sighed quietly, his fangs sharpest you'd ever seen as they glinted with each word, his gaze set on your neck, where the pad of his thumb brushed the healed wound carefully.

"i mean... define 'okay'."

the corner of his lip curled in amusement. "not dying. head not spinning. neck not stinging." but something flickered in his features: uncertainty. "not rethinking this relationship?"

this was where you hesitated, admittedly. certainly not rethinking, but definitely thinking about it.

it was now that you realised your hands were still fisted, and you infurled them carefully, letting go of his jacket as you did so. "definitely okay," you smiled, though an air of awkwardness still hung. "but i think i could use the leftovers of dinner. i think all that takes a lot out of someone."

dick's features slackened, relieved, almost.

he threw a strong arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side as he had done at the beginning of the night. "i wouldn't expect you to be doing great, but... thank you. that's helped more than you could even know." a few beats passed, dick's chest swelling, your smile brightening. "anyways, let's get some food in you. you deserve it more than me."

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc imagines #dc reactions #dc headcanons #dc universe #richard grayson #dick grayson #dick grayson reactions #dick grayson drabble #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson headcanons #nightwing #nightwing imagines #nightwing x reader #Spotify

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boolger · 2 days ago

Text

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 8

<- former chapter - AO3 link - this is the last chapter, sinners.<3

Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do it interact. Read the tags. WC: 4.8k words (i think lol.)

MDNI MDNI MDNI READ THE TAGS

Tags: rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working dogs, punishments, mating cycles/ruts/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn’t dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, dog tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers in a fucked up way, chubby reader, reader has a pussy, pregnancy

Author Note: Phew OKAY, this was a beast to write, especially because I wanted to describe so much, but I can’t keep writing on it, lol. I have to allow myself to finish it. I will write more in this universe, I have plans of writing a fic following Valeria, heh. And i will most likely write one-shots here and there, but I also want to explore other ideas not in this universe, as i also have other fics i want to write lmao. I have never given birth to a kid (and i have no intention to), so take the whole uh pregnancy part with a pinch of salt. I kept a lot of it vague, sorry lmao. I am, however from a big family. So uh. Yeah. Also ngl, this fic took a much sweeter turn than i had planned, but oh well. It happens and i had a good time writing it. Thank you for all the support, it really means a lot to me, sweet sinners. Ily all, smooches for everyone.<3333

It was close to midday and usually the farm would be rather quiet by now, calm and content, animals at their places for the day. The sun was shining for once, the British weather hournering you with some warmth. It warmed the roof of the houses, the fur of the baby goats playing outside.

Peaceful, all around.

Or, well, almost… not inside the farm house.

You were angry. Not just angry, but mad, livid; you were growling and snapping at the pack members as they came closer to apologise, or at least attempt to - and then you would hide again in the crook of John’s armpit, whining as Farah and Alex tried to comfort you. John had to hold onto your jaw multiple times, just to make sure you would accidentally nip at Farah and Alex, Nikolai trying to herd the male hybrids a little more away, though they constantly refused.

They wanted to see the screen too.

Not just one pup - not two - no, you were having bloody four pups and you were almost even more upset about it than moving to the farm.

… almost.

You sniffled as you looked at the screen as Farah pointed so that you and the others could see the hearts and slowly growing pups inside you.

“You’re never gonna knot me again,” you angrily hissed at the male hybrids - Gaz had the decency to look apologetic, but the others didn’t. Soap was one big grin, Ghost was looking smug, filled with pride. Alex patted your head, saying it would be alright but you couldn’t see how.

Alex tried to explain that it wasn’t super uncommon for hybrids to have quadruplets, as your bodies were different from humans in many ways other than the visual ones, but you were already spiraling.

How the fuck were you even supposed to walk? You asked the male hybrids just that, though it was more of an accusation you supposed.

“Your bloody knots,” you growled, “I’m not gonna be able to walk!”

“Dinnae fash, lass, we will carry ye around,” Soap promised with a grin, tail wafting happily from side to side, only earning an angry growl from you, Price and Nik hushing you, holding onto your jaw again, trying to keep you still.

Farah and Alex help you clean the gel off, explaining what they need to make sure of, what food to avoid now and which vitamins to get you, especially when now carrying quadruplets - though it was possible one of them might disappear and get absorbed by the other fosters.

After the two vets left, you refused to talk to your pack mates, upset with the four pups currently inside of you - logically you knew it wasn’t their fault, but it sure felt like it was… yes you had initiated the mating yourself, but you hadn’t thought their sperm would knock you up like this. You stayed on the couch, leaned against the corner, nipping at the other hybrids as they tried getting closer.

Though both of your owners chastised you and the men apologized for something that essentially wasn’t their fault, you remained upset for a good thirty minutes.

It wasn’t until you owners tried giving Gaz one of your favorite snacks, the hybrid slowly crawling towards you on all fours, looking up at you at the couch, tail carefully wagging. Keeping his body language all submissive, letting out a whine as he got close to you. Finally you gave in with a grumble, leaning down and snatching the snack from his mouth and then he was on you, cuddling you and nuzzling him. The others joined him soon, Price sending you a happy smile as he looked from the kitchen.

You still grumbled a little when their licking became too much but you were melting into their touches.

✨✨✨✨

It was breakfast, a little week later, that Price and Nikolai came with the suggestion; a bigger place for all of them, either inside the house or as an expansion to it, so you could all be closer. They would keep the old shed so the boys could still have a place to Power Nap during work.

It was a suggestion, an offer - they didn’t demand it, actually asked you about it and you felt a certain pride from the fact.

Whatever the chaos that you had created had done to the two men, it had helped. You had slid to your knees afterwards, crawling to your owner, looking up at Price as you sucked him off - to your surprise but delight, Gaz joined you, licking at Price’s cock as well, stealing kisses from you, licking the cum from your mouth afterwards. John praised you both, scratching you beneath your chins - you hadn’t realised that Soap had gone to Nik before looking over, the Russian stroking his cock, Soap almost shyly sitting in front of him, his own bulge hard, as he had his mouth open, tongue out.

Nik mostly hit his tongue, you licked the couple of drops of cum which had missed from his skin. Gaz had crawled beneath the temple to Ghost instead, letting the bigger hybrid fuck his mouth. While John and Nik cleaned off the table, Soap fucked you beneath it, making the plates and cutlery shake rhythmically, Nik chastiseing you now and again until you both finished

As you laid beneath it, soaking in the pleased feeling of the orgasm, Soap knotted to you - much to your annoyance, since it hadn’t taken you long to let them do that to you again - you found yourself hoping this would continue, all of you getting along with each other.

✨✨✨✨

It was a couple of days later that you had made your decision together with your pack, that the four of you went to Price, telling what you all wanted.

You didn’t think too much of it then, switching between sleeping at the shed with the others and then inside - when it was too cold, Gaz usually made you get inside, worried you would freeze.

It was almost a week later when Price and Nik appeared with some plans for the extension, when you were all eating lunch. It would be an extension of the main farmhouse, with a door directly into it, so that it would be easier for everyone to come and go. It was much bigger than the shed, almost a tiny house of itself, Price sweetly kissing your forehead and telling you that he wanted you to have enough space for all the pups without struggling - making your tail wag so hard it almost hurt, licking and kissing his cheek with a happy whine.

✨✨✨✨

At first you almost felt like the promise of quadruplets had been a lie - your stomach didn’t seem to change that much and though your tits felt a little sore, it felt, well… Normal.

That didn’t last though. As soon as you hit month three, it hit with full speed - your stomach grew and so did your hunger at a speed you had never experienced before.

You raided the entire kitchen not even trying to hide the mess when your masters came for lunch, sitting on the floor, inhaling chocolate together with some leftovers from the day before, ready to attack a chicken foot afterwards, to really finish off with.

You didn’t get the opportunity to, though - you knew that, just from the mere sight of John with his furrowed brow and from Nik’s amused grin.

John spanked you and you spread your legs afterwards, whining for him to fuck you - he did, careful with your growing stomach, cooing about how you should just ask and he would give you everything you wanted.

That there was no need to make a mess in the kitchen, leaving cans of beans and tomatoes all over the floor, a turned over bag of flour abandoned, having fallen from one of the shelves as you tried to grab the sugar next to it.

”Can’t have you crawling on the tables, mama,” he cooed, kissing one of your burning cheeks, swiping a finger over some of his cum dripping from your puffy pussy, “Can’t have you fall down, no?”

The rest of the pack came to eat not long afterwards, the kitchen still a mess, you sitting on the couch in the living room, shyly wagging your tail at them, while you gnawed at a piece of Nik’s jerky, which he had kindly sneaked and given you, only stopping to take a bite of a cucumber now and again.

Food forgotten for a moment, your three mates were on you, licking and cooing, keeping their voices low as they promised to help you next time you wanted to raid the kitchen. Soap licked your cunt, insisting on ‘cleaning you off’, while Gaz and Ghost peppered your tits and stomach with kisses.

✨✨✨✨✨✨

Your belly was swollen, lots of stretch marks having joined your already existing ones - you had already had morning sickness for a month, but it seemed to be over once more. You felt hormonal, tired and big. It was carrying around three dumbbells all the time, your back screaming half the time. Your tits grew too, which Gaz and Soap in particular, seemed fond of.

Ghost however, learned to stand behind you, big arms curling around you and carefully holding on beneath your stomach, letting you feel a moment of relief as he carried the weight of the pups.

Alex and Farah came by on the regular, checking your vitals and everything. Everything seemed to be going as it should - even the aggressive moments you were beginning to have, where you didn’t want anyone to touch your belly was apparently normal, as you got closer and closer to your due date.

One month left. It was normal to have those instincts, wanting to make sure the pups were in a safe environment when born.

Speaking of that - that became a discussion.

”It’s too big a risk, sweetheart,” John pleaded softly with you and you turned your head away, letting out a dramatic huff. Your arms were crossed, refusing to look at any of them.

”I’m giving birth here,” you demanded, still not looking at them, “Or I’m not giving birth at all.”

You knew for a fact that it didn’t work that way, you couldn’t just refuse to give birth to the four babies currently making your stomach swell up like a giant balloon.

”you’re literally gonna give birth to four kids,” Gaz pointed out, arms crossed too, looking just as stubborn as you, “what if something happens?”

“I wanna give birth here,” you replied once more, “I don’t want to go to some sterile place.”

”Daisy,” Farah’s voice was gentle, “We just don’t want anything to happen to your pups.”

You let out a little sad sound.

”I’m not a bad mom,” you answered with a whine, arms uncrossing to hold onto your stomach, “I’m not.”

”Nobody said that,” Farah said, leaning forward to gently pat your head, “and it’s okay to be scared - you’ve never tried it before and we know it’s not gonna be easy.”

You bit your bottom lip, another sad sound. Soap carefully snuggled against you on the couch, pressing his nose against your neck.

”There are nesting rooms at the hybrid hospital,” Alex added, “you can bring everything you want in there a week before the due date, make it feel right, yeah? We will let you go yourself as long as you want and help you if necessary.”

You could feel one of the pups kick at your ribs, making you wince for a moment, curling your fingers against the stomach a little more.

“Okay,” you finally whispered, “But I want to decide what we bring.”

✨✨✨✨

You had brought a lot of blankets to the hybrid hospital, but a lot of clothes as well — not all your own. In fact, most of them weren’t your own. Nikolai had let out a pained sound as you had grabbed his leather jacket and you had shot him such a nasty look that you almost regretted it. You could see the pack behind him tensing up as well, as if ready to hold Nik so that you could steal it.

”Fine, lapochka,” he finally grumbled, grabbing one of John’s coats to wear instead, “But I want it back afterwards.”

You arrived a week before, getting used to the facility and getting your nest ready. John and Nik switched between being there, going home to help at the ranch and then switching - Ghost, Gaz and Soap all stayed with you, the mere mention of them leaving making you growl the loudest.

It was on the fourth day into your stay that your water broke, making you and all the hybrids panic for a short moment. Farah and Alex arrived shortly after, as well as a specialist who had helped with a lot of hybrid births, when there were more than 3 pups at once. Said specialist seemed nice enough but it took a couple of hours before you got used to her - John almost muzzling Soap and Ghost from how they growled at her at first.

Despite all of your fears and the exhausting and stressful experience it was to give birth to four babies, it didn’t matter once they were all on your chest. Tiny and perfect, unable to open their eyes and letting out small coos to make sure you were there.

Fat little bastards laying on your chest, finally no longer in your stomach, all declared healthy.

The specialist, Farah and Alex made sure all of them were alright and that you were doing fine. You had gotten stitches and fluids but otherwise you were good.

You were enamored, watching their tiny ears and tails, their tiny fingers and barely there claws pawing at you, hungry for touch and food.

You didn’t let John nor Nikolai hold them at first, but they didn’t seem mad about it.

Gaz, Soap and Ghost on the other hand were allowed to - in a way, it almost looked comical to you. They held them as you got cleaned up a little, exhausted but not wanting to miss a moment.

The male hybrids that you had hated for the first while, all seemed like lap dogs themselves; they were all so big in their own ways and the pups were tiny, so careful that it might as well have been delicate porcelain they held onto. Ghost’s big hands almost seemed to swallow one of the pups.

Two girls, two boys. Perfect. All of them.

You stayed at the hospital, making sure everything was alright. They got the shots they needed, the chips that were required by law, so that they were a part of the system.

It was three days later that you finally offered John to hold one of your boys, shyly offering it to him with a whine, your tail wagging against the temporary nest.

You pretended to not see the tears in his eyes, Nikolai leaned over his shoulder, looking with awe at them himself, whispering something you couldn’t understand.

It was the day after that you were finally up and walking again, wanting to go home.

✨✨✨✨

You were inside with them for the first month, your working dogs looking after you in shifts - while John and Nikolai looked after you all the time.

It wasn’t easy, especially not at first.

Cries that kept most of you awake at night, their never ending hunger and your sudden role not just as a mother to a single pup but to four. It was dirty diapers and stressful moments, it was tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt helpless despite the pack being there. It was fear of the future, of whether you did everything as well as you should.

It was late night kisses as Ghost, Gaz or Soap comforted you; on your lips, cheeks, nose and against your temple. Whispering your actual name in moments shared in secrets.

✨✨✨✨

In a way they grew up too fast. One moment they were barely able to crawl and the next you were running after a delighted toddler in a diaper, escaping from bath time, leaving Soap and John behind in the bathroom to wash the others after a day outside.

“Alice!” You yipped, the tiny child just screaming with delight, ducking under the table to escape, tail wagging so quickly it hit chair legs on the way. She made it to the hallway, almost at the door, when Nikolai appeared from the stairs, swooping her up, Alice letting out an annoyed howl at her capture.

“Not behaving today , eh?” He asked, the baby squealing as he tickled her tummy before handing back your pup, “escaping the bath again?”

“It’s like she knows just when to bolt,” you agreed, frowning at your pup who looked up at you with Soap’s eyes, Gaz’s hair and skin tone but Ghost’s facial features. Long, pointy and fluffy ears that might raise when she got older, might not, too much of a mixed breed for any of you to know.

She clapped her dirty hands against your cheeks and you huffed at her, before carrying her back to the bathroom where she let out excited barks at the sight of her siblings.

They all looked different, yet somehow the same. Sharing yours or the men’s features in different ways. Alice, Henry, Oscar and Florence. Some of them had your nose, some of them had Gaz’ hair, some Ghost’s freckles, and some of them had Soap’s chin.

They grew quickly — too quickly for you to almost follow along, the extension to the house filled to the brim and once more expanded. As soon as they had learned to walk and crawl up on things, it became even more crazy, especially as they ran off to hide in the stalls, meeting the goats and some of the barn cats.

Once, Florence disappeared into the corn fields that you had once ran into to escape the men - it seemed so long ago and despite time having passed and knowing that Valeria had found a mate of her own, a stray that she had thrown her love onto, all of you were still territorial.

Nothing happened however. It only took five minutes before a slightly grumpy looking Valeria appeared, holding Florence in her arms, your daughter tugging on one of the other hybrid’s ears, as if Valeria wasn’t scary one bit.

”Sorry, Valeria,” you said as she gave you Florence over the fence, the other letting out a little grumble.

”’s okay,” she said - and you didn’t comment on how her tail wagged a little as she walked away.

✨✨✨✨

It was five years after the quadruplets birth, that you got pregnant once more, ready to castrate your pack members yourself, making Soap, Ghost and Gaz sleep out in the shed, while you took your pups to sleep in John’s and Nik’s bed, all of you barely fitting in there.

It had truly been an accident this time - you hadn’t even been in heat. Nik seemed amused, as the asshole did with everything, while John seemed a little more frustrated, yet confused over how the fuck you and the others hybrids had even managed to knock you up.

And it was fucking twins.

It took three days before you let your working dogs back into the little house you had, all the pups delighted, while Soap, Ghost and Gaz all kissed you and licked you so you smelled like more of them.

Despite your anger, you had liked the amazement on the quadruplets’ faces once they felt the twins kick inside your stomach for the first time, Ghost sniffling with delight, while Gaz and Soap were wagging so hard you were afraid it would hit one of the pups and tumble them to the ground.

Laswell took care of the pups while you gave birth - the woman might not fully admit to it, but you knew she had a very soft spot for them. Spoiling them the two days before she took them to meet their new siblings at the hospital.

Once more Nik had to give up his leather jacket, muttering about how it was hard to get it clean last time.

After giving birth and healing, you demanded to get your tubes tied and after several talks, psychologist and doctor visits, John let you have the procedure.

Though Ghost, Soap and Gaz weren't too happy about the idea at first, they were also not denying that six kids was enough - more than enough. Hadn’t you been a pack of four, you weren’t sure you would have been able to handle it. Ghost shyly admitted one late evening that it was a lot of his hybrid instincts that held him back, the forever present idea of breeding you that made him sceptical. But he still supported you, together with the others.

There was indeed enough trouble as it was with all the pups. Alice, Florence, Oscar and Henry were already growing into kids having their own opinions, needing to try out boundaries and figure out what they liked and didn’t like. They didn’t quite understand that Leo and Sophie was too young to play with them at first.

They grew up with more love than you had experienced in your own childhood, freed from the forced training of becoming the perfect lapdog. They weren’t hit or spanked, the only fights they got into were play fights or fights with each other that their parents or owners were always quick to break up.

Nobody told any of them off for following their instincts, as you had experienced — nobody declawed them or filed down their fangs like it had been done to you. They weren’t punished for barking. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that a lot of the overprotectiveness from the men also came from the lack of their own parents’ being unable to be there for them throughout their childhood.

They socialised with humans a lot, John finding a daycare for them as they grew older, as well as a school for hybrids later on. It made both Ghost and Gaz bawl their eyes off the first day they left for school, never having been able to do that themselves.

Snuggling with both John and Nik at the couch but stubbornly refusing to admit so.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They were in their early twenties when the first of them left.

It was Henry who left first, after a couple of people had come to meet the young hybrids and he had gotten along with a couple, who had kids on their own. They also had an older hybrid, whom he took a liking to.

John - and not to mention, you and your mates - didn’t let him go easily. It took three months of visits, paperwork and Henry visiting the new owners at a week at a time, before it was the young hybrid himself who put his foot down. He wanted to go and finally you felt peace with letting him do so, kissing him all over when he packed his last stuff, leaving with his new owners, waving from the car.

He wasn’t going far, only an one-hour drive away but still. All of you pretended not to cry afterwards. Leo and Sophia, your youngest pups were inconsolable the first two days, the teenage pups not quite understanding fully where their brother was going.

Florence was the next to leave - she had more herding instincts than any of the others, often happily following Soap around when herding the sheep or goats. It had started with her herding the chicken at a young age and as the years passed, she had grown to love it.

So when a farmer came by together with his family - it was almost a perfect fit from the moment they saw each other. It was a big family, with three generations living on the farms, together with three other hybrids already helping. But they were expanding and were getting more sheep - so another hybrid was needed, even though they had actual dogs as well.

The procedure was the same as with Henry though Florence put her foot down a little earlier than his brother, wanting to move to her new owners now.

Two-hour drive, but with the promise of regular visits, you let another of your adult pups leave the nest, four pups left.

Oscar was the third - and if you were honest, he was one of your pups that you had been most nervous about, since he seemed more sensitive. He wasn’t into herding like Florence and didn’t have the same outgoing energy as Henry did. He liked comforting others but he sometimes seemed to get uncomfortable when there were too many people together.

But when a young lesbian couple came to meet him, you knew that he was going to be alright. Even after the first time, it was clear that he had taken a liking to the two women, especially one of the women, who was soft-spoken and had anxiety.

The papers were drawn up a month after, as Oscar also went to take a one-year course to become a registered service hybrid, to help one of his new owners to get more comfortable.

Another two-hour drive, but the women had family in the area, so they would be around often.

Alice was the fourth of them, not having vibed with two applicants, turning twenty-three not too long after meeting the couple she decided to join. They lived in one of the bigger cities, a three-hour drive, but they fit so well together that you couldn’t make yourself feel bad about it.

She was a snuggle bug and much more of a stereotypical lapdog than any of her siblings, so the couple seemed right. They had a kid that she seemed to bond with pretty quickly as well.

You felt old sometimes, seeing your pups growing up - it was as if twenty years had passed by so quickly that you barely noticed it. There were grey speckles of hair in Nikolai’s hair, John’s beard almost grey by now, making the man grumble about feeling like a grandpa sometimes. Sometimes you wondered if they had wanted kids of their own. If they had wanted someone to throw their love onto, just like you, Ghost, Gaz and Soap had had. Yet, they seemed happy at the same time, having been nothing but loving towards your pups throughout their life from birth to young adults.

Leo and Sophia also left in their twenties.

Sophia had tried with a few different people before she met the right one - almost having given up on the idea of finding her own owner, bawling her eyes out, feeling like a failure.

That was until she met a lady a couple years older than herself. She was blind and already had a blind dog, but needed more help in her daily life - as well as more company. She would visit her brother often, who also had hybrids, so Sophia wouldn’t be fully cut off from hybrid company. Sophia excelled in her training as a guide hybrid and passed with flying colors, happily leaving together with her owner with signed papers and a heartfelt goodbye from everyone.

Leo left not too long after - they had run into one of Nikolai and John’s old friends and the hybrid had been smitten ever since, the almost mute man having found comfort in the hybrid despite only meeting for a couple of hours. Just like all the others, they went through a trial period, because while you believed in Nikolai and John when they said that he was a good man, you wanted to make sure that Leo didn’t rush into the situation.

✨✨✨✨

At last, it was John, Nikolai, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and you back at the farm that you had declared your worst enemy over two decades ago. You didn’t hate to admit that you liked the place now, even if you never got into running through muddy fields or guarding livestock. You didn’t miss the city any more - at least not in the way that you used to.

The first month that you had all been alone, you all fucked like rabbits, all of you happy to have sex with the others by now. You all calmed down after that, having gotten most of it out of your system, though you were happy to not having to worry about pups walking in on you being pounded by one of their dads or their dads fucking the throats of John or Nik.

It was odd too. You grew older, all of you did.

In many ways life felt like it always had, in other ways, it seemed so different. You felt happy, a lapdog living her best life at a farm.

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kingkat12 · 2 days ago

Text

neurons (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, foul language, author knows nothing about neurons lol

summary: Roman Godfrey is most certainly not the best study partner to have the night before an important test. what a shocker (not).

word count: 1,106

a/n: kingkat is BACK!! exams are fucking killing me, so when that is over, you best believe I will be back to my usual uploading schedule!! however, I scrapped this together for y'all (and also for myself because pls I need a Roman to get me through this study period). also, WARNING, I don't know anything about chemistry and neurons, I just had to think about anything other than my test rn which is in 6 hours... ENJOY<33 (also the gif is from @godfreysteel if I remember correctly, pls kick my ass if I'm wrong ouf)

"A neuron is an excitable cell that fires electric signals called action potentials across a neural network in the nervous system. They are located in the brain and..." Roman peeked up from the chemistry book with a rather offended look streaking across his face; "You're not listening to me, are you?"

Realizing I was being spoken to, I raised my head from the bed, flaunting a nervous smile. Honestly, I had nearly dozed off. "I am, I am! I swear, I was just!--"

"Listening with your eyes closed?"

Fuck. With a groan, I buried my face in the duvet I was lying on. "Look, Ro, I really appreciate your help, but I'm not going to learn this the night before the test... We should just give up,"

I knew that Roman Godfrey wasn't known for being the best at school-- however, he was the only person in my contacts who was available at midnight, and I was having the biggest case of brain fog known to man. Nothing was sticking. Seven hours and forty-six minutes until I was supposed to be seated in the auditorium at school, taking the dreaded midterm exam in chemistry, this was my only option. This test was supposed to be notoriously hard, so of course I hadn't bothered looking at it before now. Of course.

Huffing, Roman spun around in my chair, looking both bored and frustrated. "I'm so glad I took this test last year," he muttered, just like every other senior did when this test had been mentioned over the past few weeks. "I'm aware that I can't help you with much, 'cause you didn't exactly call the designated nerd or something. But now that you've dragged my ass all across town to not sleep with me, you could at least listen?" He moved the chair closer to the bed, leaning over to poke my head. "Think of it like you're listening to an audio book, okay? My voice is nice, after all. Deep and warm, like--"

"Honey?" I chimed in, raising myself to look at him.

Roman blinked. He looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world before he plainly answered; "No. Pussy,"

That was it. Having my fuck-friend teach me chemistry certainly didn't make me the brightest girl in the state. This was a bad idea; I groaned, rolling my eyes as I shifted on the bed, sitting up. "Keep going, then," I said, doing my best not to yawn. "A neuron is an... excited cell?"

Smirking, Roman shook his head-- I wondered whether this made him feel smart. He had taken this test last year and passed it, after all. It wasn't looking like I would be passing it, so did that make Roman Godfrey smarter than me...?

That was a mortifying thought.

"The neuron is an excitable cell, whatever the fuck that means," Roman pointed to the paragraph in the book. "Let me continue, maybe it'll make sense to you if I keep going?" He kicked back in the chair again, leaning his legs on my bed before he lowered his voice, getting into a rather caricatured character of a narrator; "They are located in the brain and spinal cord and help to receive and conduct impulses. Neurons communicate with other cells via synapses, which are specialized connections that commonly use minute amounts of chemical--"

I yawned. Loudly. I couldn't take it anymore.

Roman's eyes shot up from the book, wider than ever. I held my breath, ready to be told off once more for not focusing properly, yet the next words that left his lips were ones of charming amusement; "I see that this isn't making you very... excitable,"

I let out a relieved sigh. "I give up. Could we just fuck instead? That thought makes me excitable,"

Slamming the book shut, Roman grinned. "You never disappoint," he murmured. Getting up from the chair, he motioned for me to lay down again; he didn't waste any time making his way between my legs, pressing soft kisses to my thighs. His words were interrupted with every kiss; "If you don't pass the test-- I'll pay someone to-- tweak your scores. Don't-- worry about it."

My breath hitched as I smiled up at the ceiling. "Why didn't you say that-- fuck, earlier?" I squirmed beneath Roman as he pushed the soft pillows of his lips to my clothed sex, humming. Every kiss, every touch, felt electrocuting; I wondered whether the neurons in my body had anything to do with these bodily reactions. Did they? I had no idea, and I realized I wasn't going to know at the end of the night either.

"Because," Roman said, a hint of a laugh in his voice as he kissed his way up my body, listening to my nervous giggles of pleasure. "I like feeling-- helpful. No one has ever-- asked me to--" His kisses were getting wetter, more eager; "--revise anything-- with them."

My hands went to his hair, tugging at the tips of his soft, brown locks. "Makes sense," Of course. Who in their right mind would call Roman Godfrey to help them practice for a test? I knew that the only thing on his mind was pussy and... pussy. Along with all the other things about the female body that made him excitable, certainly.

Roman pressed teasing kisses to my neck, wrapping his arms around my tired body. "Are you gonna call me the next time you have a test?" he purred.

"Um... Depends,"

"On what?"

"On whether I'm planning on taking it seriously," I gave Roman's hair another tug, hoping he'd kiss me properly soon. "If it's a life or death thing, you're probably not gonna get involved. However, if it's another chemistry test..."

Hovering above me now, Roman nudged my nose with his as he smiled against my lips. "I see where you're going with this, I'll take it. But let me redeem myself, okay?"

"Uh... how?" An impossible task.

"I'll teach you the one thing I actually remember," he breathed. Judging by how quickly his smile turned into a smirk, I could almost foresee the next thing coming from his mouth; "The neurons are connected to the nervous system, so they're responsible for making you feel this."

Roman's lips pressed against mine for the briefest moment-- it was so gentle, so tentative, that for a second, I thought I had simply imagined it. This wasn't usually how he kissed me. This was different. This was gentle, sincere. My breath felt stuck in my chest as my fist in his hair faltered, feeling as though my body was on fire.

Fucking neurons, giving me hope that I could both pass the test and have Roman Godfrey for myself.

(thank u to Wikipedia LMAOOO I would go on and refer to the article like I've been taught but I'm SALTY so no<3 mwah)

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ki-kink · 3 days ago

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Hi. I've been interested in the wereteenager theme and in particular in the transformation, but I have trouble imagining it. It seems to be gradual and has various phases. Is there a precise sequence in the physical changes? How do fat mass and muscle mass change in the various parts of the body? Is it painful? What thoughts or images form in your mind during the various phases? In short, if we were to shoot a scene from a film that represents it in its entirety, like the one in "An American Werewolf in London", how should we imagine it.

There is no photographic or even filmed documentation. What I have found is this protocol of a patient. Sorry, that's all I know….

22:00: Photo for the transformation protocol is taken. It's the usual feeling before a Friday night. Anxiety. Anticipation. In any case, it's a strange feeling.

06:00: The alarm clock wasn't actually supposed to ring for another 20 minutes. But like almost every Friday, I'm woken up by an incredible morning erection. Like almost every Friday morning, I also had a wet dream. I have to make up the bed.

06:30: To get rid of the erection, I masturbated in the bathroom. It didn't take long to ejaculate. The plan to measure the amount once didn't work out again as I spread my sperm uncontrollably around the bathroom. My testicles are covered in soft fuzz, as is my upper lip.

07:30: After showering, I had to masturbate a second time. I have the feeling that the ejaculation was stronger than the first one. Although I'm freshly showered, I already smell of sweat under my armpits again. My armpit hair is much bushier than usual.

09:30: The morning board at Teams was torture. I find it hard to concentrate. Especially when Luke is in a call. He looks incredibly hot. I have a steadfast erection and a wet precum stain in my pants.

12:00: The morning has been exhausting. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate. To be honest, I've been online most of the time. Watching football scores, TikTok, Instagram… My colleagues went out for a salad. I had such a craving for a burger. I went to a burger joint around the corner. There were three hot high school jocks sitting at a table. I asked if I could sit with them. The looks were a mixture of disgusted and amused.

2:00 p.m.: Had to jerk off, couldn't help myself. Fantasized about standing in the shower with the guys from the burger joint after a soccer training session. When I washed my hands afterwards, I looked in the mirror. Despite shaving this morning, there's already beard fuzz on my upper lip again. But apart from that, my reflection pisses me off. That's not me. I'm not an old man.

4:30 p.m.: End of work. At last. On the subway, I see that I'm wearing my worn-out Chucks. It's a good thing none of my colleagues saw. The sun will set in a good hour. I still have no idea what I'm going to do tonight. There's not much pocket money left. Shit, I have to piss. Good thing I have to go out next stop.

4:35 pm: Yo, I'm at the station loo, takin' a leak. Bro, my dude: Däng! This thing's rock hard, like a baseball bat, no joke! My whole body's shakin', but not 'cause it's chilly. More like when you're doin’ your thing on the QB's ass. Man, my bladder was about to explode. Piss everywhere—looked like I got sprayed. Had to swap my threads. Good thing we got football practice today, right?

4:42 pm: I'm at the sink in my jersey and shorts, checkin' my hair, feelin' fresh. Then this dude sneaks up behind me, crazy eyes and all. His hand's on my junk, and he’s old—like 30 or somethin'. Just goes “50”. Bro, 50 bucks for a blowie?! Jackpot! This night is gonna be lit!

02:00 am: Dude, I'm so lit right now! Almost forgot that damn control pic. But the team doc and coach need it, I think. Gotta hit up that skater dude I met at the club. Total lean machine, dude’s got stamina, and an epic cock! Let’s go!

#ai generated #male tf #muscle tf #smart to dumb #jock tf #age reduction #wereteenager

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echo-riot · 1 day ago

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Texting loser!Ellie

An: I really love these tbh-

•|||——————————————————————|||•

1:29 am

Ellie: Hey, uh… you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Oh, uh, no reason. Just… thinking about you. Like, not in a weird way. Or maybe a little weird? But not creepy weird. Just normal weird. You know what I mean?

You: Ellie, breathe. What’s on your mind?

Ellie: Okay, so, like… you know how I said I wasn’t gonna be all clingy? Yeah, I lied. I miss you. A lot. It’s pathetic. Please don’t make fun of me.

You: Aw, you’re cute. I miss you too. What are you doing right now?

Ellie: Thinking about your thighs. Uh—I MEAN. Playing guitar. Totally just playing guitar. Haha.

You: Ellie… are you serious right now?

Ellie: My brain is broken. Ignore me.

You: Nope. Too late. So, what exactly are you thinking about my thighs?

Ellie: STOP. I can’t handle this kind of pressure. I’m already sweating.

You: Sounds like a “you” problem. But I kinda like knowing you’re flustered over me.

Ellie: Oh, I’m beyond flustered. I’m like… short-circuiting. Can you just, like, show up at my place and sit on my face so I stop embarrassing myself?

You: Bold of you to assume I’d let you off the hook that easily.

Ellie: PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU. I’ll do anything. Wash your car? Carry your groceries? Worship the ground you walk on? Actually, I already do that

You: Yeah, I know you do. Loser.

Ellie: Rude, but accurate. Anyway, I gotta go. Gonna play guitar and pretend I didn’t just admit that I’m obsessed with you.

You: Obsessed, huh? Good to know. Maybe I’ll reward you later

Ellie: DON’T TEASE ME LIKE THAT. My heart can’t handle it.

You: Guess you’ll have to wait and find out. Bye, loser.

Ellie: I love you, okay? I LOVE YOU. There, I said it. Bye.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:20 pm

Ellie: Hey, so, uh… question.

You: Here we go. What’s up?

Ellie: Hypothetically… if I were to, like, write a song about you, would you think that’s cool or kinda cringe?

You: Depends. How many times does the word “thighs” show up in the lyrics?

Ellie: Why are you like this? I’m trying to be romantic, and you’re bullying me.

You: Oh, I’m the bully? Says the girl who stared at me for five minutes straight last night and then said, “Sorry, you’re just really distracting.”

Ellie: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT. Also, you were wearing those shorts. What was I supposed to do?

You: Be normal?

Ellie: Impossible. I saw your legs and forgot how to act. You’re lucky I didn’t pass out.

You: Wow, I’m flattered. So where’s this hypothetical song?

Ellie: …It’s not done yet. But I might’ve rhymed “perfect” with “I’m not worth it.” Thoughts?

You: Ellie, you’re such a loser, but I love you.

Ellie: Yeah? Say it again. Slowly this time.

You: Nice try. Not happening.

Ellie: Fine. Guess I’ll just sit here and suffer in silence, replaying it in my head.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

12:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi. What now?

Ellie: What do you think it would take to convince you to marry me? Like, is there a specific snack you like? Or should I just propose while holding your dog hostage?

You: Ellie, we’ve been dating for three months.

Ellie: Okay, but, counterpoint: you’re perfect, and I don’t want to wait. I’d propose tomorrow if I wasn’t afraid of passing out mid-speech.

You: Big words for someone who forgets to text back for three days.

Ellie: HEY. That’s a creative process issue, not a love issue.

You: So what I’m hearing is… you’re madly in love with me and bad at time management.

Ellie: Exactly. See? You get me.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

3:30 pm

Ellie: Okay, I’m officially spiraling. Can I just tell you something without you making fun of me?

You: No promises. Go on.

Ellie: Sometimes I sit around and think about how lucky I am that you actually like me. Like, I’m a disaster, and you’re… you’re you. It doesn’t make sense, but I’m not questioning it. I just—thank you for putting up with me.

You: Ellie, you’re my favorite disaster. And if you keep being cute, I might actually have to show up at your place and kiss you right now.

Ellie: DO IT. PLEASE. I’LL PAY FOR YOUR GAS. I’LL—

You: Relax, loser. I’m already outside.

Ellie: Wait, what?! Hold on, I gotta brush my hair—

You: Too late. I’m coming in.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

10:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi, Ellie. What’s up?

Ellie: Can I say something without you laughing at me?

You: You’ve already asked this today, and it was hilarious. Go ahead.

Ellie: Okay, so like… I’m trying really hard not to think about the way your ass looked in those jeans earlier.

You: Ellie.

Ellie: What? I’m being honest. It’s a problem. I almost walked into a pole because of you.

You: It’s not my fault you have no self-control.

Ellie: Self-control? With you? Yeah, right. You literally walked by me, and I stopped functioning.

You: Good to know I have that effect on you.

Ellie: Oh, you know. You definitely know. You’re evil for it, by the way.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

4:40 pm

Ellie: Hey. Are you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Because I was thinking… you should come over. Like, now.

You:Why?

Ellie: Because I miss you. And because I really need to kiss you. Maybe more than kiss you. But, uh… yeah.

You: You’re bold today.

Ellie: You’re hot every day, so I figured I’d stop pretending to be cool about it.

You: Ellie, you’re such a dork.

Ellie: Okay, but I’m YOUR dork. Come over so I can prove it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:28 pm

Ellie: I just saw your Instagram story. I’m losing my mind over here.

You: Why? It’s just a selfie.

Ellie: Just a selfie?? You looked so good, I almost dropped my guitar. What are you trying to do to me?

You: Ellie, calm down.

Ellie: Calm down? You’re out here looking like THAT, and I’m supposed to act normal? No chance.

You: So dramatic.

Ellie: You think it’s funny, but I’m literally sitting here like, “Wow, that’s my girlfriend. I’m the luckiest loser alive.”

•|||——————————————————————|||•

9:34 pm

Ellie: I can’t stop thinking about you.

You: What else is new?

Ellie: No, but like… it’s bad. I’m at the store, and everything reminds me of you. I saw strawberries and thought about how you taste like them when you wear that lip gloss. It’s driving me insane.

You: Ellie, get it together.

Ellie: Can’t. Don’t wanna. I’d rather think about you.

You: You’re so thirsty.

Ellie: Yeah, for YOU. And I’m not sorry about it.

You: You’re ridiculous.

Ellie: But you love it. And you love me. Soooo… can I come over?

You: You’re lucky I love you.

Ellie: I know. Be ready when I get there.

#ellie tlou #sub ellie williams #ellie x you #loser ellie #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us

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nelle-y · 2 days ago

Text

A love story told through voicelines (V)

C/W: slow-burn, Diluc x gn!reader, reader works at the flower shop in Mondstadt, fluff, shorter than the rest but that’s because it’s the end

Note: The story comes to a close! Thank you all so much for your support, I couldn’t have done it without you guys🫶🏻 If you have some ideas for other fics, feel free to leave a request in my inbox! (Part 1) (Part 4)

(You) About Diluc: Reflections

I’ve been thinking a lot about our fight. I don’t know if it was the heat of the moment or my own pride, but I said things I shouldn’t have. I called him stubborn, like his concern for me was some kind of flaw. He didn’t deserve that!

But when he called me reckless… it stung. I wanted to defend myself, to tell him I could handle it, but deep down, I knew he was right. I was reckless. I got hurt because I wasn’t careful, and instead of thanking him for worrying about me, I threw it back in his face.

I know he was just trying to protect me. That’s who he is—he takes on the weight of the world, and I made it even heavier with my words. I was so caught up in proving I didn’t need him hovering over me that I forgot how much he cares.

If I could go back, I’d say something different. Or maybe… I’d just listen. He didn’t deserve my anger. He deserved better.

(Diluc) About you: Reflections

My thoughts are quite repetitive when it comes to them, and maybe that’s how I drove them away—by caring more about their safety instead of them. I didn’t mean to hurt them, but seeing the scar on their arm reminds me of how much I could lose with one careless act. It was unbearable. And I let that fear dictate my words.

I know I can be overbearing. They’ve told me before that I control too much, and that I was… incredibly stubborn. Maybe they’re right. I wanted to protect them, but I didn’t stop to think about how they felt, what they needed from me in that moment. I acted as if I knew best, and in doing so, I ignored the trust we’ve built.

If I could go back, I’d handle it differently. I’d find the right words, words that wouldn’t hurt them. But now… all I can do is hope I haven’t broken something I can’t repair.

(You) About work

I’ve been trying to get back into the rhythm of working at Flora’s shop, but… it feels strange. The flowers are the same, the customers are the same, but something feels off. Maybe it’s me. Or maybe it’s the weight of everything that happened at the manor. I keep catching myself glancing toward the road leading to Angel’s Share, wondering if he’s okay, or if… he even cares.

*sigh* I need to focus. These asters aren’t going to arrange themselves.

(Diluc) About you: From afar

I passed by Flora’s shop today, and I saw them working as usual, but… quieter. Seeing them brought it all back—those quiet moments at the winery, their laughter, the way they always managed to surprise me. It’s unbearable, how much I miss them.

I almost stepped in, but quickly retreated. What would I even say? “I’m sorry”? Would that even matter by now? I’m sure they’re mad at me—maybe furious. And I’m sure… if I could change anything, I would change even the night I resigned from my position as Cavalry Captain if it meant bringing them back.

(You) About Diluc: Finally aware

I saw him today, you know. Well, not saw as in meet with—he just passed by. He didn’t come in; though strangely, I took a step in his direction. Out of habit, I suppose. I don’t think he noticed me… and why would he? After everything… Ugh! Why am I still dwelling on it? It’s not like I’m waiting for him or anything.

He’s just so… stuck. In my mind. I keep hoping to see him, even just for a moment. I miss eating with him, and trying to make him laugh. I miss the flowers that we took care of in the winery. I miss Adelinde.

I miss him…

And it’s infuriating, because I was the one who left. I needed space. I chose to leave the winery because it felt like too much. So why? Why does he linger like this? Why does every passing memory of him feel so sharp, so close, like it was yesterday?

I don’t know what this is. I thought leaving would bring me peace, but it’s only made me realize how deeply he’s rooted in me. I don’t know if I can ever let him go, even if I should.

…Could it be? Could this feeling—this aching pull—be love?

No… not could. It is. I love him.

(Diluc) About you: Finally aware

I need your thoughts on something. It’s… rather personal. For some time now, I’ve found myself increasingly distracted by them—always thinking about their safety, their well-being, even their smallest habits. Every little thing they do seems to pull at my attention. At first, I dismissed it as concern, but it’s different—stronger.

When I spoke to Adelinde about it, she said it sounded like love. Love. I… I don’t know what to make of that. But the more I think about it, the more everything starts to make sense—why I can’t stand the thought of them being hurt, why their smile lingers in my mind long after they’re gone.

I’ve even gone as far as to read about it in novels from Inazuma, though I’ll admit most of them are overly dramatic. Still… I couldn’t help but see myself in the pages. And now I can’t ignore it anymore.

This is love, isn’t it? I can’t believe it took me so long to realize. But… it’s oddly comforting, too, to finally understand why I feel this way. It all feels clearer now.

… I can’t let it end like this. I’ll speak to them, no matter what it takes.

(You and Diluc) Character story: Confessions

The day was drawing to a close, and the horizon burned with hues of amber and crimson as the sun dipped below the mountains. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

They didn’t know why they were running—only that their feet carried them forward. Wind gracing their hair, tugging at their clothes, and each breath coming quick and sharp with the patter of their feet. Were they running to the winery? They haven’t really thought about it. They were just chasing the closest thing that felt like home.

Inside the manor, Diluc sat at his desk, quill hovering over an unfinished report. He’d been staring at the same sentence for far too long, his mind elsewhere. His eyes kept straying to the lamp grass resting in a small vase—“For when nights are long, and the weight feels heavy—may these remind you that you’re not alone.”

In a breath, the quill laid flat on his desk, ink leaving a stain that may or may not come off. He didn’t care, though—he had other business to attend to. One that could change his life, for better or for worse.

As he ran, he thought of what to say. He’d gone over the words a dozen times in his head, but nothing ever seemed quite right. Every thought felt too small, too simple to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

The crimson sky had turned to blue, stars slowly forming like the constellations they once had. They both remembered that night—their head on his shoulder with only nature to accompany them, silent, and sanctified.

The moon hung low in the sky by the time they crossed paths on the dirt road. Neither had planned for this exact moment, yet it felt inevitable, as if fate itself had intervened.

They stopped a few paces apart, both breathless—Diluc from his hurried strides, and them from their sprint. For a moment, neither spoke. The quiet hum of the wind wrapped around them, heavy with all the words they hadn’t yet said.

“I…” they muttered, but their voice caught. After a breath or two, they spoke again: “I didn’t think I’d run into you.”

“I could say the same.” Diluc’s eyes softened as the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Though… perhaps I hoped for it.”

Their breath hitched at his words, and they looked away, unsure of what to say. They hadn’t expected this—hadn’t pictured him to be so calm, so open. The reality of seeing him here, in the flesh, was almost overwhelming.

“I don’t even know why I came,” they confessed, voice trembling. “I just… I missed—“ they hesitated admitting they missed him. It terrified them—how one word could strip away everything they’d worked so hard to hide, yet hold the power to give them everything they wanted.

They swallowed hard, the silence between them growing heavier, and tried again. “I missed… the winery. Adelinde. The flowers. The peace of it all.”

But the lie tasted bitter, and they knew he saw through it. Diluc waited, silent and patient, as though he knew the truth would come, in time.

“I missed you,” they finally whispered, their voice breaking. The confession escaped before they could stop it, leaving them vulnerable and exposed. Their heart raced, the fear of rejection and relief of honesty crashing into each other.

“I’m sorry…” they added, one reckless word after the other. “For being so careless, for not understanding that you were only trying to protect me—for everything.

“I thought I did the right thing, leaving the manor. I told myself I needed space. But since then, all I can think about was you. I couldn’t stop looking forward to our lunch dates, to the moments you’d pass by the flower shop, to even catching a glimpse of that slight smirk of yours.

“And it’s all so infuriating,” they continued, voice gaining strength, yet still trembling with frustration and longing. “Because I look at you with that unreadable expression of yours, and it’s like you don’t care. You’re always so calm, so distant, like nothing ever fazes you. It’s maddening!

“Even when we were together, it was the same. You always tried to shoulder everything alone, hiding behind that stoic exterior. I could never tell if you were trying to protect me or push me away. And now…” Their voice wavered, and they dropped their gaze, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions spilling out. “Now, I don’t even know if you missed me at all. Or if I was just someone you had to look after.”

They hadn’t noticed how Diluc closed the gap between them until they felt a gloved hand caress their hair. “I cared.” They looked up at him with a somber expression. “More than I should. And I still do.” Diluc’s eyes had changed. The unreadable mask they had always found so frustrating had slipped, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“I tried to convince myself it was better this way,” he continued, his voice low but steady. “That keeping my distance would protect you—from the burdens I carry, and the dangers that follow me. And though I wasn’t completely wrong,” he put attention to your scarred arm. “Pushing you away felt worse. For both of us.”

He hesitated, his thumb brushing against their cheek as if grounding himself. “You were never just someone I had to look after. You are… everything I’ve been too afraid to lose. I thought keeping my feelings buried would keep you safe, but all it did was drive you away.”

His voice softened further, but the intensity of his words only grew. “I can’t bury it anymore. I won’t.”

Their breath hitched, tears pooling in their eyes as he stepped closer, his other hand reaching to gently hold theirs. His grip was firm, steady, and yet full of care—just like him.

“You have undone me completely,” he said, his voice shaking with the weight of his emotions, “and I have no desire to be put back together.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and profound, and the sincerity in his eyes left no room for doubt. In that moment, the barriers between them shattered, replaced by a warmth that enveloped them both.

Tears slipped down their cheeks, but they smiled through them, their heart full for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve been undone, too,” they whispered, fragile yet filled with hope. “And I don’t want to be whole without you.”

The stars above, as well as the wind, bore witness as they stood there, hands entwined, finally allowing their hearts to speak what had been unsaid for far too long.

—end—

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc fluff

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genderqueerdykes · 2 days ago

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I'm transfem but boymoding in public. I have HRT on my shelf waiting for me, I'm getting more tired of hiding myself every day, but so many of the trans women I see, especially online, just seem miserable?

I tried talking about community building and creating trans normal and trans contentment at an event and got told that people are tired of trans joy and community building and there needs to be more trans anger.

I can deal with bigots. It's literally my job to deal with bigots, but I feel like I'm being put off at this point because so much of the community defines itself by suffering and I do not want to suffer.

I feel like if I start HRT I'll be too trans to be accepted in public but won't be able to find community among trans people because I don't believe in TMA/E divisionist bs

thank you so much for taking the time to send this, i really appreciate you. thank you for taking the time to share your story

holy. fucking. shit anon i am so, so sorry you were told that. how the hell are people "tired of trans joy and community building"? what the FUCK does that mean? how jaded and bitter and disenfranchised do you have to believe that "everyone" is "over" being... happy about being trans? trans anger has its place but how is anyone "over" being happy? that is the most defeatist shit i have ever heard in my life. that honestly sounds EXACTLY like the bullshit negative headspace you get into when you're VERY depressed that just makes you hate literally everything. you don't just have to roll over and be miserable because things suck. you don't have to consign yourself to a life of misery just because you're transfem. what the hell. how the hell is that supposed to empower anyone?

thank you for pointing these things out. what a lot of trans women and transfemmes are doing right now is wallowing in their misery. misery does not keep you safe, it keeps you trapped in your pain. focusing on how miserable you are is keeping yourself stuck in the past. you will never progress beyond misery if you refuse to try to break free of it. yes, we suffer. yes, our lives are hard. but why are we focusing on the bad all the time? you can have trans rage and experience trans joy at the exact same time. they're not mutually exclusive.

I feel like if I start HRT I'll be too trans to be accepted in public but won't be able to find community among trans people because I don't believe in TMA/E divisionist bs

that hurts me deeply to read, i am so sorry. i was just standing on my porch having a similar thought, which is i feel more alienated by the queer community right now than i do the general public. i get less flak from cishet people than i do other queers. isn't that fucking sad? we've made the community hostile to our own, each other, not even outsiders who are genuinely trying to oppress us. we're more hostile towards transmascs and men than we are cops trying to enter our spaces. we kick masc nonbinary people out of queer spaces, but then gladly let rad fems in.

i'm glad to hear that you also don't believe in the TME/TMA bullshit, but it sucks so bad that you feel like you will be alienated from other trans women because of it. i really want a lot of the transfems and trans women who do these things to understand that they are hurting other trans women and transfems, NOT just trans men and mascs. like this behavior affects more than just trans men and mascs- it's alienating you from your own community. literally where you belong, and you feel alienated. you're not the only trans woman who's reached out to me about this. how is this behavior supposed to uplift and empower trans women if all it's doing is alienating us from our own communities?

take care of yourself, anon. i hope things improve for you. you have every right to not want to continue suffering like that. you're not obligated to sulk and focus on how bad you have it every single day just because you're transfem, you literally KNOW how bad transfems have it. you don't need to be repeatedly reminded how bad we have it. you don't need to constantly be thinking about it. you don't need to constantly remind yourself that you're miserable in order to be a transfem.

that's your reality. you don't want to stay trapped in the parts that suck, you just want to be yourself, and that's what transness is all about. i hope you're able to start HRT soon and stop hiding and just be yourself. you deserve that. there are still plenty of kind, open minded transfems and trans women who don't behave this way, and i hope some make their way into your life so you can talk to people who get you without fear of being made to feel bad for no reason. if you have any questions about it or need any help, please feel free to come by and ask any questions you may have, we'll be happy to help! you've got the right approach, other people just need to catch up. thanks for stopping by, feel free to come by again any time

#asks #feedback #answers #transfemme #transfeminine

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legenbeery · 2 days ago

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AITA for cheating on two different polycules, a family and a potential mystery fourth group at the same time?

Now hear me out, I, (Mystery Age M) am in what almost seems like a hunger games esque death game with many other players and have been for atleast 6 seasons now. This season we spawned in an unknown world with unknown ‘wild cards’ being constantly thrown at us and everything was uncertain. I ended up with B (42M) and T (also mystery age M). None of us were the strongest players I’ll admit, I’ve always brought a kind of washed up, pathetic wet cat energy to these death games. Early on I realised that with B and T as my teammates we may not be the strongest group. We were already messing up from the beginning, missing diamonds, falling behind in building (all because of B’s stupid golden rules with building and forcing me to build out of copper), me and B were also tense due to us going through a pseudo custody battle over a random horse, and overall I think we weren’t really feeling the love as much as we could. I tried bringing our team together a bit, tried to give us a tuff reputation by encouraging B and T to start messing with people and stealing but I wasn’t made for it, I always felt bad for stealing despite intending to be a tuff guy. I tried creating this plan so that no one would mess with us but it failed miserably, none of us are even remotely intimidating and it felt more like we were a joke than actual tuff guys, yet I tried to keep this to myself. Due to this insecurity I felt the need to also form an alliance with a random family (made up of J, 31M and G 28F) with a car that lived near us, the family were much stronger than both I and my supposed allies in my opinion and I was honestly kind of surprised that it was so easy to worm my way into their strong alliance but I wasn’t going to pass that opportunity so early on into this death game.

This next part is where I may start to sound a bit like the AH to some but the family just didn’t feel like enough and I had other wants for my death game experience. It all started when one day we were faced with these weird boys that made us answer trivia questions, we got rewards for correct answers in these trivia and I really wanted a trident. I however did not get a trident despite being so good at the trivia, I didn’t get a single question wrong and gave it my all to appease those silly bots but they didn’t want to give me what I wanted, it was if they knew and were purposely not giving me a trident. I then came across S (29M) who did have a trident and I was so jealous of him, so I started following him around, pestering him, sucking up to him and quite literally begging on my knees for him to give me a trident. Eventually S decided to try and make a deal, whether it be out of pity, affection or some other mystery intention I have no idea, but S started talking with his own alliance and despite the doubts of S’s alliance at the time, S managed to convince them to let me join their alliance and S would give me a trident (what a nice guy!). It was at this point that I realised that I was in too deep It was then that I realised that I now had a third cheating situation on my conscience, which also meant another sneaky link to hide, this caused me to constantly rush around to different team meetings in order to not arouse suspicion. I think quite a few of them were growing quite suspicious but I didn’t stop, I was in too deep to living life as a cheater. At one point later on in the death game I even ended up trying to insert myself into a fourth group! (Though they didn’t properly welcome me I tried - another cheating attempt, this one for no reason), I later found out that one of the guys in that fourth group, J (28M) genuinely thought I wanted a loyal involvement with them and didn’t even know I was already cheating with three different groups, apparently I was decently convincing? I do think atleast a few people suspected that I was cheating on them but didn’t speak up either way, or if they did it alludes me now.

So AITA for cheating on perhaps atleast 7 different people in total?

Edit: In the end none of these worked out for me as I ended up dying by my own hands ironically, and I accidentally killed both S and G and ruined my chances of maintaining these alliances much to my dismay. Just thought you guys would wanna know that cheating apparently isn’t a good survival strategy.

#wildlifeaita #ethoslab #wildlife #wild life smp #life series #life series smp #inthelittlewood

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curiosity-killed · 2 days ago

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curio's chaotic guide to corralling brain squirrels ✨for Capitalism✨

obligatory disclaimer: my only qualifications are having lived with Cocaine Squirrels In My Brain for my entire life and getting the fun experience of people regularly telling me "you can't have adhd, you're too organized/successful/put together" meanwhile i am regularly held captive by my brain zooming through deep dives on cicada facts at 1 AM on a work night

first off, the general overarching bits:

Come in at 70%. I tell this to literally everyone and am stealing it from my sister, but basically—don't come into your job at 100%. That 100% will be taken for granted by you and your coworkers and become the expectation, meaning when you have a day where the brain is holding you hostage or you're tired or hungover or for whatever other reason can only give 50%, it will be a crisis. Come in at 70%, so 50% isn't a huge deal and you can whip out the 100% for some special sparkle times.

Embrace the good bits. look, lbr. cocaine squirrels are not a great time, generally speaking, in a corporate 9-to-5 space. BUT sometimes there are perks. for instance, I am the person you want in a (corporate) emergency because the right pressure (and coffee and high BPM music) makes the squirrels band together and pull some damn good shit off in crunch time. whatever quirk you feel you can leverage, do it.

okay now more squirrel-corralling thoughts (am I doing this instead of my actual job? obviously.)

build a system of systems

okay i know if I say anything about a planner or to-do list, I will be shot on sight but. well. this is about planners and to do lists

I am a chronically aspirational planner user. I love the concept of planners. love to have such a tidy and organized way of going about life. And I can use planners—for about 1-3 months at a time, max.

what I've found works best for me is to have kind of a rotation of task tracking systems: sometimes my planner*, sometimes sticky notes plastered across my desk/wall, sometimes color-coded to do lists in an actual notebook, sometimes color-coded to do lists in my dry erase notebook, sometimes notes on my computer.

I don't think it super matters what you use so much as it matters to have things in place that you can swap to when your brain stops liking the one you're using

*this isn't an ad but I rlly like the Rocketbook planner specifically because it doesn't have a timeframe, so you don't have to worry about "wasting" it during the months you're not using it. just wipe it down and start fresh whenever it's back to being useful

agree to slightly more than you should (but watch out!)

if i have a normal workload, the effort it takes to make myself Do The Thing goes up by about 50% with a negative relationship to the quantity of work. ergo I am best off if I am just slightly overutilized—if I have about 9 hours of work to do rather than 8. That doesn't mean I always work a 9 hour day (because the squirrels and I fucking hate that) but it means there's just a little additional pressure to help make it easier for my brain to, y'know, execute.

THAT SAID, it is really easy to fuck this up. don't be like me and wind up basically doing an entire contract solo (that was supposed to be a 9-person team)!!! it's bad!

mostly i think this is trial and error, so figuring out the right balance for yourself will take getting it wrong some of the time.

the squirrels crave that novelty

this is also related to the first point, but I've found I get more done if I let myself bounce between projects/tasks more than probably makes sense to people who aren't possessed by manic rodents in their brain.

I try to break down tasks in a way that lets me cross something off (dopamine! or. something??) and lets me skip over to something different/novel as a break (e.g., today I need to copy edit a bunch, draft some appendices for a different project, and create an autopopulating tab for an internal project—so I copy edited one whole section, skipped over to the appendices to get a first pass down, hopped back to the next section of copy editing, and then switched to the internal project).

too much of this can feel like playing pinball with your brain, but giving myself the option to switch out into something different helps keep me from getting into the Dreaded Tedium Stage of things

flexibility and structure

this is going to depend some on your work structure, but use what flexibility you can. My work offers a flex schedule, meaning I can take a four hour break in the day as long as I make those hours up somewhere else. I don't. necessarily recommend?? taking a 4 hour break BUT sometimes the squirrels unionize and demand I vacuum the living room, and trying to ignore it and work will be infinitely slower and more exhausting than if I just get up and vacuum and then get back to work. other times, the squirrels stage a sit-in protest and i am stuck scrolling tumblr aimlessly or re-reading fanfic for no reason and then at 8 PM they decide they actually are willing to do The One Goddamn Task i absolutely must do.

it sucks and I genuinely really hate this part of ADHD, but the best option I've found is to sometimes let them win in the moment and come back to the challenge/ask at a better time (for instance, my energy/focus tends to be worst in the afternoon and much better in the evening, so it's easier for me to get something done in the evening than fighting squirrels all afternoon).

...and on the flipside, where you can impose some self-made structure, it can also help get the squirrels in line. calendar holds (i.e., putting an event on your calendar that's just for a task/project and turning on do not disturb for notifications) can help with this if you're able to stick with them (ime this is a skill that has to be built and practiced), organizing things by 'must do' vs 'quick wins' can help, etc. as with everything, it's a process, but finding a balance between where you can flex and where you can lean on structure to help you along has been beneficial to me

anyway idk if any of this is new or helpful but my personal squirrels have been sated and i do. unfortunately. actually need to work now kbye

#long post #adhd #personal #i do also drink at least 5-6 cups of coffee per day and listen to loud fast paced music as well #obviously #but. figured those were kind of givens for the ‘undiagnosed and coping as best we can’ crew

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heartsandstars46 · 3 days ago

Text

The first time (prelude)

tasm!Peter x virgin!gf reader

Fluff, angst, anxiety about sex, some spice

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted! 🩷🩷 Real talk, this is my longest fic to date and I am nervous. 😅😅😅

You and Peter had been dating for a while now. He was your first real boyfriend, and you’d said the “I love yous,” but you didn’t know what was supposed to come next… how all that was supposed to work. Okay, meaning sex. Should the two of you have had sex by now? Probably?

You also probably should have had sex in life by now, but you hadn’t, and that was hard to forget… especially while you were curled up on the couch making out with Peter—feeling his lips on yours, his tongue, his hands in your hair. You tried to stay with those sensations—and the desire they sparked—but your mind kept pulling you away, screaming that you were probably doing something wrong. Did you kiss like a virgin? Could he tell? You knew he was more experienced, but you two hadn’t really talked about it much. Somehow, sex was both hanging over and detached from your relationship.

As Peter’s hand grazed the small of your back, just barely under the hem of your shirt, you wondered what that meant. Was the expectation that you would take your shirt off? Was that what other girls did in this situation? In movies, they were falling back onto the bed, the floor, any solid surface, ready to have their clothes torn off, ready for anything.

Were you ready for… anything?

“Hey,” Peter said softly, dropping a hand onto your knee. You jumped. He smiled sadly. “Yeah, I kind of got the feeling you weren’t all there. Are you okay?”

You aggressively shook your head, as if that would make all the confusing thoughts fly out. He slid back further so he could really look at you.

“I’m fine, I just wish I were fucking normal,” you sighed.

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, join the club.”

You knew he meant well, and you still bristled with annoyance. Okay, sure, he was Spider-Man, he was never going to be truly normal, blah blah. But in the realm of dating, it felt like there was this chasm between you because he had had sex before and you hadn’t.

You jumped up and went into the kitchen. You didn’t want to talk about any of this. You didn’t want to sound irrational and stupid.

But you had expected Peter to follow you, and he hadn’t. So now you were just… alone in the kitchen. You pretended you needed water and filled a glass. You hadn't planned on telling your first. You figured you’d just have sex one day, and it would be like a hook-up, no big deal. But now that sex was grazing the edges of an actual, loving relationship, lies of omission didn’t feel right anymore.

You turned around, leaned against the counter, and looked at Peter in the living room. He was watching you from the couch, but he still didn’t come in.

“Are you giving me space so I talk about the thing on my own?”

“Only if it’s working. If it’s not, then I’m definitely not doing that.”

You smiled in spite of yourself.

“Can we meet in the middle—literally?” He gestured to the hallway between the two rooms. Despite your heavy sigh of annoyance, you were actually relieved. At least one of you wanted to deal with you right now.

You both sat down on the hardwood floor facing each other like little kids about to play one of those hand-clapping games in the schoolyard.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

You sighed. “Do I have to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay, great,” you said, and started to get up.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Peter grabbed your wrist. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You can’t help,” you said softly. “Even if you knew what’s going on.”

“Can I decide for myself?”

You gave an “it’s your funeral” type of laugh. “Peter, we’re not the same. We're never gonna be the same.” He stared at you. “You looking at me like I’m crazy is definitely not helping!”

“I’m sorry, I just don't know what you're talking about.” You flinched at the annoyance in his voice. “Of course we’re never going to be the same, no two people are the same. Why is that a problem? Especially now. Like, this is what you’re thinking about when we’re kissing?” Now he sounded hurt too, and you were starting to well up with tears, so you had to keep your back toward him. “I struggle to form any coherent thoughts when I’m kissing you, but okay. All I want is to feel you and to make you feel good, but okay.”

You could feel a few rogue tears slip down your cheeks. “I knew we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“No, we have to talk about it. If you're not into... this, I have to know. We have to stop.”

That only made you cry harder. “It’s not that, and it's not you.”

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed.

You spun around, tears streaming down your face. “Peter, it’s not you, I promise.” You had to look him in the eye when you said that. He looked hurt more than anything, though his expression softened when he saw you crying. “It’s… sex. More specifically, when we go to have sex and you find out I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He jumped up, but you stepped back away from him, your face on fire with embarrassment.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered. Because you were looking down, you saw that he was pulling his sweatshirt sleeves over his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you kept saying. You hated that you had hurt him, you hated yourself for being like this… there was a lot of self-loathing to go around.

“Let’s just take a breath here.” He gave you his empathetic smile—lips pressed together but eyes concerned—and he used his sleeves to dry your tears.

“Peter, I don’t want to disappoint you. What am I supposed to be doing? Am I supposed to be waiting around for you naked one night and it just happens? Is that how this works? I don’t know, like…?”

“Hey.” Peter held your hands in his. “I don’t know either. You act like I’ve done this a million times and it’s as ‘whatever’ as, I don’t know, buying chocolate milk. It’s not. It’s us.” He shook your hands in his, and you were grateful for the warmth spreading from his palms to yours. “It’s whatever we want it to be. So while I’m certainly not going to object to you waiting around for me naked, I only want that if you want that.” He bumped you lightly with his forehead.

You were staring down at your intertwined fingers when he asked, gently, “What do you want?”

You glanced up and found him staring at you so sweetly with his big brown eyes. “I want you to be my first,” you whispered. “I want to have that experience with you. But I know that means it probably won’t be very good for you or whatever….”

“Can I be honest with you?”

You braced for impact. “Okay….”

“If I’m honest… the thought of doing it with you is just, like, wow.”

You stared at him. “Are you blushing?”

“Yeah, well, if I think about it too much, I start to get… excited, and we’re trying to have a serious conversation here!”

Your stomach flipped, and your voice was a tiny squeak. “You get excited? Thinking about having sex with me?” Because your anxiety had so overwhelmed the topic of sex, it had left no possibility for Peter to actually want you like that.

He was looking at you like you were nuts. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, and I love you. Not to mention, you’re fucking gorgeous. Like, to get to see and feel all of you… When that happens… I just… I don’t even know what to say.”

You could feel yourself blushing now. You touched his cheek.

“And to be even more honest…” he drew in a shaky breath. “When I had sex in college, I was convinced that I would never be in love again. That’s why just ‘getting it over with’ felt like the best option at the time. I mean, maybe that will ultimately work in our favor and I won’t be complete shit at it for you.” He smiled nervously. “I just never thought someone would know me and love me the way Gwen did. And then you came along. If I had known to just wait a few more years for you, ahh.” He punched the air in frustration.

You nestled into his arms, wishing you could hug away college Peter’s belief that he would never be loved again—especially considering all the love your heart held for him. He kissed the top of your head.

“First of all, I love you. Secondly, you know…” you mused, “it’s not like I’ve been saving myself or anything, not on purpose. But if it works out that my first time is with someone I really, truly love, then I guess I’m pretty lucky. And I’m sorry that you won’t have that same experience.”

He was quiet for a minute, then said, “Well, maybe I will. Kind of. Because it’s not gonna be just sex for us. It’s gonna be my first real time. It’s going to be the first time it means something.”

You smiled and snuggled more deeply into his arms. As much as you hated having to be so vulnerable (and that was just with words at this point! oh lord), it felt like you both had just freed each other somehow.

“We’ll get there when the time is right,” he said softly. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Part 2 to follow! 🩷🩷

#tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker #tasm fic #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter angst #andrew!peter parker #andrew garfield imagine

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