#but you can't sit there and tell me those two parts don't sound similar

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

controversial but I don't think the whole deja vu/cruel summer credit debacle is entirely without merit. idk if taylor should have gotten songwriting credit because it really is just a fraction of a second that's similar but anyone who says there isn't ANY similarities needs to listen to the "he looks up grinning like a devil, it's you" and "I know you get deja vu!" back to back because to me they sound similar enough to at least require some interpolation credit, especially when olivia rodrigo made the mistake of being so vocal about her love of cruel summer and taylor's music in general

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 8

Contents: relationship, establishing feelings, angst, first arguments.

Warning: MDNI!! Content warnings will be given for the relevant chapters. But before that ... the angst.

Your assurances that you had enjoyed what had happened in your office sparked something new between the two of you. Every time Kento saw you, his fingers were seeking out yours. His hand was always on your waist or lower back, sometimes unconsciously. You were beginning to learn just how much he was a man of restraint, how he reigned in so many of his natural instincts on a daily basis. He seemed to be wearing the armour that the world demanded of him, but as time passed, that same emotional apparel was shed, bit by bit, when he was in your presence.

The concept was so foreign to him, that Kento seemed to be surprised by how he had no control over those aspects of his personality that you brought to the surface.

For instance, on the evening that you had your first argument with him.

He had returned from a mission, covered head to toe in the foulest combination of sludge and rancid water, his suit ruined beyond repair and various bruises already blooming on his skin.

It had been a solo mission and several higher grade spirits had been present. Although not badly injured, Kento was exhausted, sore and in a foul mood over the lack of detail in his prior briefing. Showered, dressed in a mismatched set of clothes borrowed from Gojo, purplish discoloration spreading up from his collar, he paced your office.

"Is it too much to ask that they simply confirm mission parameters? That they provide us with updated blueprints? That we get back-up in case of emergencies? Oh, don't get me wrong. I've always known how little our lives mean, how they spend us like cheap currency, but this... this is just shoddy and lax and poorly planned - "

You brewed him tea as he ranted, a certain heaviness, a razor edge that dug into some deep part of you, furrowing your brow as you glanced back at him. He was right, of course. The rarely seen higher-ups often used their sorcerers like pawns in chess games, sometimes losing sight of the value of human life from their rarefied strata.

You waited for the tea to reach just the right temperature, choosing your words carefully. In a pause in his speech, you asked the question you already knew the answer to.

"Do you really think it's a coincidence?"

He stopped, facing the far wall.

"Why do you mean?"

"Do you think I don't know what happened on Takuma's mission?"

Takuma Ino, a young sorcerer, going so far as to deny himself a grade one sorcerer class unless his recommendation came from Kento, had been the victim of similar incompetence just last week. Kento turned to you now, and his expression was carefully blank in a way that made you want to grab his shoulders and shake him.

"Ah. You know about that?"

"Of course I know. You called an intervention. You were angry, and you made them look incompetent. This is retaliation for that, Kento, however you look at it. They can't interfere to the extent where your life may be in danger, but look at what they did."

His body was now rigid, his mouth set in a tense, stubborn line.

"And what did you expect me to do? Sit back and let them get away with placing young sorcerers in danger?"

The teaspoon clattered into the saucer as you spun around to face him fully.

"What? Why would I ever question your need to do that?"

"Well, it certainly sounded like a criticism."

"That's because it was a criticism. But not of your intention, Kento. Are you being wilfully obtuse?"

"Then what did you expect me to do?"

"Handle it better. Are you telling me you don't know how their egos would have been affected? That's you didn't know how that could have backfired?"

"Am I now to be responsible for the failings of others? Am I suppose to pander to these ... these ..."

It was testament to his rage that he couldn't even come up with adequate words that would convey his disgust for these people. You closed your eyes and passed a hand over your brow.

"No. I don't expect you to do that. Never. But Kento, sometimes your temper does get the better of you. You do make rash decisions, especially if it's on matters that are ... very personal to you."

You knew, of course. Once he'd mentioned the name Haibara, you'd looked through the records. The crisp, clinical phrases on the yellowing pages of the autopsy report spoke volumes on what had been omitted.

The range of emotions that crossed his face surprised you, almost making you wish you could take the words back. But it had been the truth. He looked taken aback, the surprise chased shortly by anger, and then a flash of something deeply pained, a small twist of the knife.

"If that's how you feel, then - "

"Don't finish that sentence, Kento."

Your voice is quiet, firm, and he actually pauses.

"Because I haven't finished what I was going to say. Please listen. You took that decision, and I understand your anger. I understand it completely. But you did it with no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. Do you think I don't know how little you think of yourself when others are in danger?"

You took a steadying breath, willing your voice to remain even, to reign in the emotion that threatened to roughen the edges of what you had to say to him.

"You had every right to stand up for Takuma. But in future, if you want to do things like that, at your own expense, run it by me first. Because it seems like I'm the only one who has your best interests in mind. You certainly don't."

"My best interests? I - "

He seemed at a loss in terms of how to respond to this. His jaw worked in furious frustration, but then he stopped, strode to the door and flung it open, his heavy footsteps carrying him away from the office, away from you.

You released a breath you had been holding and clutched the edge of the table, a horrible vice closing around your throat. You had always hated confrontation, and this was no exception. But this time, you hadn't been able to help yourself. It was as if something tenacious, something steel-clad and oblivious to your fear had risen to the surface. You couldn't have let him go without hearing what you really thought, even if you wanted to.

And now, you were left to face the consequences. Sinking into your chair, you let your head drop wearily into your palms.

Is this what caring for someone meant? Was this the bereft ache that you were supposed to feel when he was angry, when he was hurt, when he was gone? How had you gone through your whole adult life and still found yourself so ill-equipped to deal with the feelings he left scattered around you? Feelings that you now gathered up and hoarded in a protective layer around yourself, clinging so desperately to the idea that what you said hadn't been wrong.

Had it?

Someone was approaching the office and you straightened hurriedly, taking a deep breath, attempting some form of composure before you had to face your professional demands.

Kento strode back in, as precipitously as he had left, this time closing the door behind him and locking it. You stared at him, dumbfounded, steeling yourself for what he had to say. He regarded you in silence, and you took him in, fully this time.

His eyes were slightly red-rimmed, raw looking. The ugly abrasions stood out more starkly against his skin. His hair was completely out of its usual style, falling softly around his cheeks. Those same cheeks that you had traced with such tenderness now seemed so shadowed, so gaunt. His plain grey work shirt, the spare he'd kept at the Tech, clashed with the black trackpants that Gojo had provided, lending his dignified bearing a distinct pathos. There was a tender, bruised quality to the set of his mouth, a vulnerability in his glance that you had never seen before.

You realised, then, that in his own way, he was letting you see it, all of it.

Wordlessly you held your arms out to him and he came forward, almost child-like in his direct approach. He got down on one knee and his head drooped slowly into your lap, a heavy sigh escaping him as your embrace enclosed his shoulders. You held him tightly against your chest, feeling the solidity and power in his frame, wondering how long it had been since anyone had leant him their strength.

Time passed, your time at work. You thought of your employers, sitting in comfort while this man fought with every silent breath for some semblance of justice, for something good in this world. You breathed in the warm scent of his scalp and held him tighter as shadows lengthened in the room. If your time and livelihood were also currency to them, then let it be spent like this.

He apologizes for his outburst, of course, and this time there is a wariness there, as if he is aware of just how much he has shown and cannot believe that you will actually accept it. He avoids coming to your office, stating that he distracted you from your work enough with the issues he brings and wanted to keep your meetings strictly outside of work, or in the break room, where your interaction would be one of forced professionalism.

If he had been any other kind of man, you might have found it frustrating. There was something else here, though, some subtle message (maybe one that even he was unaware of), an indication that something needed to be proven. You were determined to rise to the occasion.

And so, you made your plans.

You called him one evening, on a Thursday. You had not seen him at work. You decide to forgo messaging, because you missed his voice. He picked up almost immediately, speaking your name, his tone slightly surprised, but warm.

"Kento, I need to know something."

"Yes, dear?"

"Are you busy this Sunday?"

"No. I was going to ask you to spend the day with me."

"Well, I'm asking you now."

"To spend the day together?"

"Yes."

He pauses and a soft chuckle reaches your ear.

"Does it make a difference who asks?"

"Yes, it does. For this Sunday."

"And why is that?"

"Because I've made plans for us."

"You have?"

"Absolutely. You can't always be the one planning our dates."

"I see nothing wrong with that. But, pardon my curiosity, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, Kento."

"Oh no."

"What do you mean 'oh no'?"

"Nothing at all."

"Explain."

"A slip of the tongue, my darling."

"A slip of the tongue, my foot."

"And a most delightful foot it is."

"Stop slithering your way out of things."

"I take offense to that word."

"Anyway, I'll give you a hint. Since I'm an exceptionally kind person."

"I'm eager to hear it."

You clear your throat.

"Dress for the outdoors."

"Are you sure about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you say that to me, I imagine tough trousers, hiking boots, a walking stick ... "

"Oh no. None of that."

"Ah. So you mean outdoors, but your kind of outdoors."

"My kind?"

"Lazing in the sunshine and eating grapes."

You let out an incredulous laugh.

"You're awfully cheeky today, aren't you?"

His voice immediately takes on a lower, smoky tone.

"Am I going to be punished for that?"

Oh no, you don't, sir.

"Yes. I'll punish you. With a large quantity of grapes."

There is a short silence.

"Hmm."

"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm going to do with those grapes?"

"Maybe I'll wait for Sunday, after all."

Sunday comes and you feel both excited and a sense of nervous anticipation. You've never planned a date to this extent before. You've hired a car from the Tech for the day, one of the company cars that are always available for employees. You're aware that you might just be abusing the privilege, but you've never used this particular perk before and you're feeling slightly rebellious.

You've picked the perfect spot for a picnic, in a private piece of land owned by an old family friend. You'd spent many childhood days there when times were better and your mother had still been with you. The land was now cared for by a third party, but you were one of the people who still had access, and you could imagine the place clearly in your mind's eye.

Food, of course, played an important role in this. You'd thought out the menu well in advance and purchased all the ingredients you'd needed the previous day. You were going to prepare his special sandwich, of course, along with a green salad with fresh corn and avocado, onigiri with various fillings, croquettes, marinaded artichokes with parmesan, some of those store-bought honey cakes, coffee jelly, along with a small tribute to your mother's simple favourite, sandwiches with mature cheddar, cucumber and the mint chutney she had taught you the recipe for. Champagne and bottled water would be carried carefully along in the hamper, along with glasses, cutlery and plates.

You'd made sure that you'd woken up early and prepared everything that needed to be made fresh. When it was time, you sent Kento a short message, telling him that you'd fetch him from outside his apartment, and headed there. It had been a while since you had driven, but the muscle memory was there, the steering fluid under your fingers, and you'd re-adjusted in no time. You felt somewhat proud, and confident that today would go off without a hitch.

Kento was waiting on the street corner, and the sight of him momentarily stole the breath from your lungs. The collar of his white shirt showed above a simple, plaid sweater, light colored jeans emphasizing his long legs, rugged brown shoes and his customary watch, glinting from beneath his sleeve, completing the ensemble. There was no sign of the dark glasses and his hair was not slicked back, lending him a relaxed and casual air. As you drew closer, you could see the remaining yellowish traces of bruising against the side of his neck.

His eyes travelled over to the car, and when he spotted you behind the wheel, they softened and creased at the corners, with a warmth that you still couldn't believe was directed at you. He climbed into the passenger seat and your fingers met his, naturally.

"Good morning, handsome."

He coughed and shifted in his seat, still not accustomed to your teasing, but heartfelt compliments.

"Good - well, hello."

His warm grasp was now trailing along your arm, belying the awkwardness of his words, and you laughed.

"Shall we?"

You shifted gear and set the car in motion. Soon, you were out of the city limits, the clear autumn air crisp and warm enough for you both to let down the windows at intervals, taking in the breeze. Kento's hair caught the morning sunlight, the shorter strands at the nape of his neck suddenly, tenderly visible. You want to run your fingers over them, but you knew you'd get a scolding for not paying attention to the road.

He spoke, not taking his eyes off the scenery.

"The other day. In your office."

"Kento. I told you that everything's fine between us."

"I know it is, but there's still something I want to say to you."

"Go ahead."

The effort with which he forms the next words tells you how difficult it is for him to express thoughts like this.

"When you ... held me, I felt ... different. Like something had changed in my life, so profoundly. I felt as if ... a heaviness I had been carrying for so long had lifted a little. When I went home that day, I ... I remembered my friend. I let myself think of him. Of happy times. I've never really been able to do that before."

You're smiling softly and his fingers are tracing the shape of your arm again.

"That's good, right?"

"I think so. For me, that is. But I need to know ... "

"You need to know if those same burdens are not being passed to me, correct?"

He looks at you, and from this angle, you can see something of the wonder in his gaze. You laugh.

"It's already pretty obvious when you're with Yuuji. All that darkness you want to keep away from him. From all the students. I know, Kento. I know the kind of world we live in. I know that you can't protect everyone forever. Those burdens are not yours to give, or take away. At some point, you have to trust that ... it is enough."

"That what is enough?"

Love. That's what you want to say to him. That love is enough to carry you through the worst of what the world has to offer. But you don't. This time and place isn't right. Instead, you turned your eyes briefly to the sun shining through the trees ahead.

"Today is a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"It is."

@tsukimefuku @g-kleran @actuallysaiyan @kentocalls

[bihinnyshipper]

Seamus' face turned quickly from surprise to laughter as what his best friend had just said. Dean chuckled along, starting to jog lightly ahead of him.

"We're gonna be late, Seamus!"

The shorter boy snorted. "Give me a reason to care." He didn't bother picking up his pace. "Just walk with me, will you?"

Dean made a show of rolling his eyes but ran back up the hill to meet his roommate. They kept walking towards the quidditch pitch, hands hanging carelessly at their sides. Seamus blushed as his pale fingers brushed those of his dark-skinned friend. not just a friend, a part of his brain tried to correct him.

But Seamus was jolted back to reality as the duo reached the bottom of the hill and a flash of red hair stepped into Dean's waiting arms. The Irish man had to look away as his roommate's lips met those of his girlfriend.

"I was wondering if you would end up showing."

"I always do." Dean stepped away.

"Just with less time to spare every day." She threw her sweaty hair in a ponytail. "Hey Seamus."

"Hey, Ginny. Good to see you." Seamus sported a weak smile. He liked the youngest Weasley, he really did, but he had a hard time not resenting her when she's got the boy he's sure he loves wrapped around her finger.

"Can we head up?" Once again, Seamus was brought back to his current position by Ginny Weasley's voice.

"Sounds good to me, Seamus you coming?" Dean grabbed his girlfriend's hand, not unnoticed by Seamus.

"Uh, no you go on ahead I'll meet you back in the tower."

Dean and Ginny exchanged a glance. "Are you sure? You're welcome to walk with us."

"Yeah, I've got something I've got to take care of, I just remembered."

"Alright mate," Dean seemed to accept his answer. "See you up there." He turned, slipping his arm around Ginny's waist, and they headed up toward the brightly lit castle.

Seamus walked the other way. He thought he'd sit in the locker rooms for a minute and just collect his thoughts. He had to get a hold of himself.

The sixth year sat down heavily on a bench right outside the pitch, staring off into the darkening sky.

"You okay?" A brighter female voice spoke this time.

Seamus looked up into the concerned eyes of Katie Bell, who's hair was thrown haphazardly into a do similar to Ginny's. "Oh yeah, I'm good. Sorry, just... enjoying the weather." The lie was awkward but Seamus hoped Katie didn't notice.

Clearly, she saw right through him, though he wasn't sure she could read what exactly he was thinking. "Well I was just about to head back up to the common room, d'you want to walk with me?"

"Sure." He stood and they began to walk. After a moment or two of heavy silence, Seamus spoke up again. "Um, Katie. This is awkward but I was wondering if you might want to go with me to the next Hogsmeade weekend."

She looked over at him, studying him for a long time without responding. He shifted.

"No."

He just stared back at her, his cheeks starting to heat.

"You're hot Seamus, sure, and I know I'm hot, but you're not interested in me."

"What? Of course I am! You're beautiful and you have nice tits and..." He trailed off, looking at the ground. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

"Exactly. I can't be a distraction for you." Katie looked up the hill to where Dean and Ginny had reached the castle. "How long have you liked Thomas?"

Seamus looked up sharply. "What?"

Katie just rolled her eyes. "I don't know you very well, Seamus, but I can tell. You've fallen hard for Dean."

A moment of silence and Seamus sighed heavily. "So what if I have. There's nothing I can do about it."

"I'd say not asking girls out when you know you're gay would be a pretty good start."

"Noted." He glanced up at her.

"And for what it's worth, Dean and Ginny aren't going to last. You'll have your chance with him soon enough."

A foreign glimmer of hope rose in Seamus' chest. "What makes you say that?"

"I've seen Ginny at practice, she's worse off than you, pining for Harry. She'll never be happy with anyone else. That and Dean treats her too much like a lady, that's not the kind of person she needs."

"I wouldn't mind being treated like a lady." A soft grin rose on his face.

"Just give it time."

[krishastumblernow]

Original characters, polyamory, slow burn

Word count: 0.6k

Part 4.

As you were choosing what to order, a man came up to your table, and your beautiful stranger immediately moved to take a seat next to you. The gesture was protective, and you involuntarily moved closer to his body, knowing he has been acting as your own personal shield.

"I believe this is yours," the new guy slid your phone across the table.

"How did you?.. Who are you?" you were terrified again at that point but your beautiful stranger quickly rested his hand on top of your shoulder.

"I never had a chance to properly introduce myself, did I? I'm Haipeng, and this is my brother Chihe. He used to look after me in a similar way when I was at school, so he knows those boys. And those boys know him a bit too well."

"And they will never even look your way again," said the older brother, a mysterious man in a mask.

"Thank you. Is there any way I can return your... favor?"

"No need," his eyes smiled, but his mask still stayed on.

The silence was heavy. I had two young men around who were either really good or really bad, and I couldn't tell which ones they were just yet.

"Should I just order something I think you might like?" Peng probably saw me looking at the menu but not really reading it.

"Yes, please, I can't really concentrate."

"I can see that," he chuckled and called the waiter.

By the time our food arrived, all three of us were joking a bit and smiling at each other. Peng took off his mask as soon as he saw the waiter coming with our food, and so did I, but Chihe didn't even move.

"So, are you not hungry or something?" I was concerned that Chi would feel left alone.

"He doesn't..." Pengi started but was cut off by the older boy very quickly.

"I'm not hungry."

"I see," I was puzzled by the sudden change of moods and pretended to wipe something off my phone.

"Would you be ok with me just sitting here?" Chi saw my confusion.

"Oh, absolutely! Whatever makes you comfortable! I just don't think it feels good to just sit here when everyone else is enjoying their food. Maybe just a coffee or something?" I looked up at him.

"You know, if you don't want to take your mask off, just get like a long straw or something, just not to feel isolated? It's only a suggestion!" you put your hands up like you were going to surrender, but in a joking way, of course.

"She's good, huh?" Chihe smirked, looking at Peng, and the younger one nodded, unexpectedly delighted.

"I appreciate it," Chi looked you in the eyes, and his stare went deep down into your soul, just like his brother's.

 

"I need to hurry, the last train leaves in 15 minutes," I looked at my phone, seemingly undamaged, which was surprising, knowing what it has presumably been through.

"Enough subway for you today, I have a car, and we'll take you home," Chihe sounded like he really meant it.

"And next time, when you need to go somewhere after dark, please call me. No charge. I already put both of our phone numbers in your contacts."

"Oh, I..."

"That was not a question," said Chihe and looked me in the eyes, so I couldn't do anything but nod.

"Good girl," you tried to hold back a squeak, but a part of it got out anyway. His "good girl" woke something in you. Something you never even knew existed. You were happy to be a good girl for him. And it definitely didn't go unnoticed.

[muraenide]

"You can muzzle me if ya want to." He flips his pillow over, but doesn't take his eyes off Jade as the offer hangs in the air between them. "I don't wanna beat 'round the coral anymore, so I'll just say it. We ain't enemies unless you want to be. If ya don't trust me that's -" he pauses, shoulders sagging with tiredness. "That's fine. I get it. But I ain't gonna hurt you unless I have to. So if you wanna make double sure or something, I won't say no."

@sweetlybite

"There is little sense in trying to put you in any restraint. I don't doubt your ability to break free if you really wanted to." Jade turns on the hair dryer, tilting his head sideways to let cool air blow-dry his hair. It had been after a shower and he'd put on a white shirt and green shorts, prepared to go to sleep when Floyd suddenly brought it up.

An unease has inevitably settled between the two of them since Wraith Jade revealed himself. Jade can't say he knows much about what Floyd thinks, having gone through similar events for the umpteenth time for now, but for himself, Jade does find the initial adrenaline to settle down the more time passes as he accepts that things are going to be different. Floyd is a victim as much as the rest of them are, fighting against an invisible enemy.

We ain't enemies unless you want to be.

A part of his heart seizes those words. Jade's eyes widen as he tries to process what Floyd had just said, had just assumed, despite all that he'd done even before finding out that Floyd was not the Floyd he'd grown up with. To think that Floyd thought Jade would ever consider him an enemy, his Floyd or not -

It hurts.

The buzzing sound of the hair dryer dies down as he turns it off. He walks across the room to where Floyd is sitting on his bed.

"You always find unique ways to wound me." Jade bites down on his lip, feeling his blood boiling in his veins. His other hand curls tightly into a fist by his side. The sound of a sharp slap fills the empty space of their room.

It had been a long time since Jade physically hit Floyd. He can't recall the last thing that made him angry enough to do so. But his Floyd or not, whoever this Floyd is, he belongs to another Jade. They were a series of parallels who chose one another as each other's life companions. If anything, Jade had come to the conclusion a few days ago that he would be willing to take care of this Floyd on behalf of another Jade who is no longer able to do so. It's an idea he was contented with - it changed little of what he is doing now and while this Floyd isn't the Floyd he wanted it's the only Floyd he has.

"You've seen many instances of me, likely know me better than I know myself. Yet as you said, all Jades are a little different one way or another, so it's best not to assume there is anything you can do that would make me want to kill you." Killed. That was what happened to all of Jade's enemies. He's never the type who would leave anyone alive to tell the tale.

Floyd, of course, punches him back for it. Jade knees him back in the stomach, and they quickly engage in a fight on the ground with the full intent to hurt but not to kill.

It's really been a long time since they fought, but he can't say it's a bad way to alleviate his frustrations.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Unlikely Places - Chapter 33 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter: 33 - Magical All-Knowing Abilities

"Damnit Jackson, I am so sorry," he breathed in deeply and we stayed like that for a few moments more before he leaned back a bit to look me in the eyes.

"God. I hope you know I never once doubted you or your work. Vernon has been acting shady for a while now and not just with you. I wanted something concrete and used this moment but when I saw how stressed out you got, it wasn't worth it to me at all! I wanted to nix it all right there and just handle it another way but my gosh you were amazing. You handled it yourself superbly. You took my breath away."

I looked back at Pierce as he talked, his words flying out a mile a minute.

As they registered a light blush tinged my cheeks.

I had never considered that Pierce was acting all along, giving an opening for me to give him evidence in a sure-fire way to prove culpability for HR purposes.

Pierce started speaking again as he saw that I was finally starting to understand.

"Firing people isn't easy nor should it be taken lightly. Mr. Johnstone and I knew after the last meeting that he was no longer suitable for this company but knowing and proving are two different things. We both figured he would make another similar attempt to discredit you and you would be able to prove it."

"Why didn't you mention this to me?" I asked, still feeling a little hurt that he hadn't clued me in.

Did he not trust me?

"I honestly didn't think about it. When I am with you the last thing, I wanted to talk about was Vernon. I never once considered that you would take my words to heart. I've watched you and your work for three years. I know your standards are solid gold."

I was startled by Pierce's three years comment but Pierce kept talking not giving me time to really let that sink in.

"All in all, I am the owner. I had to remain neutral during the meeting. I didn't show you favoritism because I really didn't think I had to. I was so shook when I saw the panic on your face. The thought of you having an anxiety attack because of this about killed me. I would never intentionally put you in that position. I just wasn't thinking. I promise I won't do it again."

I couldn't help but give a light chuckle as Pierce continued to profusely apologize to me.

His sincerity was really very sweet.

"You know, you could just tell me next time," I pointed out with gruff sarcasm.

"I'm game with helping you but I can't really help if I don't know you have something you want me to help you with."

"Is this your nice way of saying, I am an idiot?"

"If that's how you want to take it," I quipped back feeling it was the least he deserved.

Pierce chuckled and ruffled my hair before finally releasing my head and pulling back with a long, tired sounding sigh.

"That ass-hole," he suddenly exclaimed.

"You don't know how hard it was for me to keep my mouth shut while he was obviously trying to set you up for a fall and those other two just sitting there letting him," he continued, sounding disgusted.

My heart that had felt bruised only moments before beat with happiness now.

Knowing he had never doubted me made all the difference.

These extremes of emotions I had been put through in the last hour was yet another new experience I could chalk up to Pierce since meeting him.

The highs and lows were somewhat exhausting, I thought ruefully but I couldn't let everything he just said slide. I myself needed to speak up.

"P-Pierce," I stuttered out.

His eyes, already on me, sharpened at my stuttered calling of his name.

He abruptly sat forward again and grabbed my hand.

"Why are you stuttering?"

I shook my head at him.

There was no good explanation as to why.

I was a bit surprised myself as I felt rather calm.

It just happened that way. I was used to it.

"T-that doesn't matter," I managed.

"There's something m-more important to talk about."

"What?" he asked still holding onto my hand, his thumb absently rubbing across my knuckles.

I wasn't sure if he was even aware of doing it but I most certainly was.

Trying to distract myself from the feelings his caressing thumb was creating I focused on what I needed to say.

"D-don't be hard on T.J. or Amber. It's not like they really h-had a choice."

Pierce frowned at me.

"Of course, they did Jackson. Everyone has a choice and they chose wrong."

I nodded in agreement.

"Okay. I maybe s-said that wrong but put yourself in their sh-shoes. Amber is just an intern. She is here to learn. This is a teaching moment for her, not a punishment moment."

Pierce gave a sudden quick jerk of his head in agreement.

"Okay. I concede that but the same doesn't apply to T.J."

I cocked my head at Pierce.

He could be so fierce at times.

I wondered if it was because I was involved that it was making him even more inflexible.

"Please, c-cut T.J. some slack, too," I requested softly.

Pierce abruptly released my hand and slapped his palm down on his thigh.

"Damnit Jackson, why? He's a grown ass man that didn't have the guts to speak up. Do you think I want to keep someone like that around here?"

I sighed.

I understood his point.

He wasn't wrong.

I just didn't think he was looking at all the evidence though without some bias.

"Look at T.J., Pierce. Since the first day I met him he has never looked h-happy or comfortable. He has never looked anything but stressed and I can only imagine the pressure Vernon's put on h-him. The both of them. He's not a happy man. I would not be surprised to learn Vernon threatened him in some way."

"That m-means a Team Leader in your company most likely browbeat an employee. Isn't that as much your responsibility to handle and fix and right the wrong done to him and maybe others? I don't think T.J. needs to be f-fired. Maybe j-just retrained."

Pierce grimaced as I spoke.

I could tell he hadn't considered anyone else's feelings but mine.

Though that made me happy in so many ways, it wasn't fair.

I wasn't the only one Vernon had messed with.

I actually might even be his luckiest victim.

Pierce stared at me for long moments before he leaned forward in his seat, his forearms resting across his splayed legs, his fingers steepled.

"You're really cute all the time but you are totally sexy when you use that brain of yours."

I didn't pull back when what followed his words was a long deep kiss that was the true definition of sexy. 

[slow-drowned-angels]

Review of Auditory Suppressors for Sensory Sensitivities

In the order of lowest to highest noise suppression, this review includes: Flare Audio Calmer (Secure), Sony WI-XB400 (used as earplugs), Loops Engage Plus, Loops Quiets, and Bose QuietComfort 45.

Note: Everyone has different needs and wants out of noise suppression. Please take my reviews with a grain of salt. For example, if you have difficulty with motor control, my "Medium" Ease of Use may actually be very difficult for you. I tried to note possible concerns in my explanations, but I can't account for everyone's requirements. Feel free to ask if you want more information about any of these!

Flare Audio Calmer (Secure)

Suppression Level: Very Low. More of an audio-altering device than an earplug. It doesn’t change the volume of the audio as much as the frequencies. The effect is hard to describe — I think it reduces bass a bit and everything sounds more airy?

Material: Silicone (stiffer than typical earbud inserts)

Price: $29.95 USD (Secure: $34.95 USD)

Ease of Use: Medium. Not as easy as standard earbuds to insert into the ear, but generally faster than some other earplugs. Doesn't require fiddling with any additional ear tips or determining your size. However, they are very small.

Comfort: Medium. The silicone is a bit hard for my taste, but perhaps my ears are smaller than the ideal size for these.

Item Noises: Med-High. I bought the Calmer Secure version (has two silicone straps to connect the two “earbuds”) which I like in theory, but in practice, the two straps bump into each other too much and make noises. Currently, I’m wearing it like a necklace to prevent that, but I may end up cutting one off to solve the issue. If you typically wear necklaces or dangly earrings, those would likely make this effect worse.

The standard version shouldn't have this issue.

You don't hear your own internal noises as much as with typical earplugs.

Effect on Your Own Voice: Since it is such a low suppression level, it doesn’t affect the quality of your own voice when you talk with them in as much as typical earplugs.

Additional Comments: Personally, it’s nice when driving, where I still need to hear things but don’t want to hear Everything. However, it isn’t enough for me in a shop with other people and I generally prefer more noise suppression. If you are in a situation where you need to talk, these are probably the way to go.

Sony WI-XB400

I debated adding these because they're not really earplugs per say, but I use them as my primary earplugs anyways, so if you're in the market for earbuds as well, here you go. I'm sure that many other earbuds will act in a similar manner -- there's nothing particularly special about these.

Suppression Level: Low-Med. These are my minimum noise suppression for going out/generally existing. I can generally hear what is going on around me, just dampened/muffled.

Material: Soft silicone ear tips with plastic exterior.

Price: $39.99 USD

Ease of Use: Very High. Just stick 'em in your ears. One-time annoyance of putting the tips on, but even those go on pretty easily.

Comfort: Very High. Soft silicone my beloved. The wire/neckband is also very comfortable.

Item Noises: Med-High. Bumping the wires will cause noises and the wires also move around in the earbud, occasionally causing little tapping sounds. You will also be able to hear your internal noises more. Standard amount for earbuds, as far as I can tell.

Effect on Your Own Voice: Med-High. Makes you sound louder to yourself when you talk, which annoys me, so I have to take them out to talk.

Additional Comments: They are good! Also good as bluetooth earbuds (but I'm not reviewing that part). They sit nicely on my neck when I'm not using them, making it easy to put them on and take them off whenever I need/want. One issue with using earbuds as noise suppressors is that people will think you're listening to something with them.

Loops Engage Plus

Suppression Level: Low-Med. With some audio alterations. It's a similar suppression to the WI-XB400's but slightly different flavor -- typical voice frequencies are slightly clearer

Material: Soft silicone ear tips with hard plastic exterior.

Price: $44.95 USD

Ease of Use: Medium. There is a particular way to put them in, but it's not terribly hard to get right. The ear tips can be hard to put on when you first get them, but it's a one-time difficulty.

Comfort: Med-Low. The plastic is too hard for my taste and I don't really like it.

Item Noises: Low. They shift around when I move my jaw, which is a bit annoying (fuzzy noise). You will also be able to hear your internal noises more. Standard amount for earplugs.

Effect on Your Own Voice: Med-High. Makes you sound louder to yourself when you talk, which annoys me, so I have to take them out to talk.

Additional Comments: I dislike Loops cases -- they are barely big enough to fit their earplugs and don't feel sturdy enough for daily use. I bought these in hopes of using them for lectures and they are good for that purpose.

Original DownBeats

Suppression Level: Medium. Good for dampening loud spaces to be audible, but no longer terrible.

Material: Silicone with a hard plastic stem.

Price: $10.95 USD

Ease of Use: Low. They require pulling at the ears to get in fully, so they take a longer time to insert.

Comfort: Very High. Feels very similar to silicone earbud tips.

Item Noises: Med. Makes a fuzzy noise when you move your jaw, but much less than the Quiets. You will also be able to hear your internal noises more. Standard amount for earplugs.

Effect on Your Own Voice: Med-High. Makes you sound louder to yourself when you talk, which annoys me, so I have to take them out to talk.

Additional Comments: Slightly too much dampening for lectures, personally. Good for every-day carry because they come with an aluminum case that has dealt with being on my keys for a year and is unfazed.

Loops Quiets

Suppression Level: Med-High. Won't block out everything, but pretty good.

Material: Soft silicone (all)

Price: $24.95 USD

Ease of Use: Medium. There is a particular way to put them in, but it's not terribly hard to get right. The ear tips can be hard to put on when you first get them, but it's a one-time difficulty.

Comfort: Med-High? They are very comfortable, but they do create a bit of a vacuum in my ear which can be uncomfortable if I put them in wrong.

Item Noises: High. They really make every jaw movement known and loud. God forbid you're chewing.

Effect on Your Own Voice: High. Makes you sound louder to yourself when you talk, which annoys me, so I have to take them out to talk.

Additional Comments: I use these primarily for sleeping, where they have similar qualities to the disposable earplugs I used to use, while being a lot more durable and re-usable. Since I don't chew or talk when I'm trying to sleep, they work well. I dislike Loops cases -- they are barely big enough to fit their earplugs and don't feel sturdy enough for daily use.

Bose QuietComfort 45

These are a noise-cancelling headset with active noise-cancelling.

Suppression Level: Very High. Especially bass noises. Can typically still hear treble (ex: people talking) at a very low volume.

Material: Faux leather and cloth where it touches the head/ears. Hard plastic otherwise.

Price: $279.00 USD

Ease of Use: High. Pop 'em on. May be some difficulty with the set-up if you're not used to setting up bluetooth stuff and some of the buttons can be confusing.

Comfort: High. Except if it's very hot. But I find them very comfortable for occasional use (up to a few hours). It's hard to lay down with them on (especially on the side), which can be frustrating when I get sleepy.

Item Noises: Very Low. You can hear a bit of stuff moving around, but with the active noise cancellation it's really quite minimal. You can hear yourself chewing, but it's approximately the same as if you don't have the headset on.

Effect on Your Own Voice: Low. I could probably talk with these on, especially with the Aware mode.

Additional Comments: These are expensive, but they're the lower end of noise cancelling headsets (unfortunately). They work very well and I love them.

[harveyhawkscripts]

[A4NB/TM] Werewolf Comfort for Body Nightmares [Werewolf Speaker] [Transmasc Listener] [Nightmares] [Gender Dysphoria] [Body Dysmorphia]

Usage:

- Okay for monetization

- Please credit me as Harvey Hawk :)

- Tweaks, improv, and pronoun changes are okay! Just please do not rewrite the script completely.

Synopsis: The listener has been having nightmares related to their dysphoria. Their werewolf boyfriend is there to empathize and comfort them. CONTAINS HEAVY THEMES OF GENDER DYSPHORIA AND BODY DYSMORPHIA 

Google Doc

Key:

[SFX and Action]

(.) Short Pause

(...) Longer pause

(Voice instruction)

Word Count: 1044

—

WEREWOLF

(Whispers) Psst, baby. Baby, wake up. You're having a nightmare.

(.)

(Regular voice) Hey, hey, it's alright. It was just a nightmare. You're okay...

(.)

Your chest? What's wrong, does it hurt? Did you leave your binder on too long?

(.)

Ohhh, another one of those dreams. I'm so sorry, baby.

(.)

Crushed? Oh, baby, no wonder you're so worked up. That sounds awful.  But it's okay now; it was just a dream.

(.)

Well, do you want me to check for you?

(.)

Of course I don't mind. Here, sit up.

[Fabric ruffling] [Light clicks]

Everything looks healthy, baby. Why don't you open your eyes and see for yourself?

(.)

See? You're alright. Just breathe...

(.)

I know you're prone to nightmares, but that's the fourth one this week. Maybe we should move your therapy appointment up or find a sleep specialist or something. There's no way you're getting enough rest like this.

(.)

No, baby, please don't apologize. I'm fine. Sure, I lose a little sleep, but it's not enough to bother me. Even if it did, I would rather be awake to help you.

(.)

I'm absolutely sure, baby. Now, c'mere. Let me cuddle you.

(.)

There we go. I've got you. Baby, your nightmares... They all have a similar theme, huh?

(.)

I mean they're all about parts of your body being deformed or destroyed. Baby, is something going on?

(.)

Shh, it's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I can't say I know much about gender dysphoria, but I definitely had my fair share of body dysmorphia when I first turned.

(.)

Oh, yeah. My first full moon was a mess. I was a mess. The fur was a sensory nightmare. Everything itched; my body felt too big and my skin felt too tight. My jaw was too heavy and I couldn't even get myself to walk.

(.)

It was like I was miles behind my own body. I would feel nothing, and then too much all at once.

(.)

Yeah, I had nightmares, too. Real visceral, gory ones. The pain always felt so real, and I always woke up exhausted. I can't stand the thought of you going through something like that.

(.)

Well, I didn't get through it on my own. I had my new pack to help me. They got me moving again and taught me how to take care of my new form. Got me on a sleep schedule, brought me food when I couldn't hunt, even swiped me some honey.

(.)

Yeah, my pack is something special. I can't wait for you to meet them. They're gonna adore you, I just know it.

(.)

Of course I'm sure. But you don't have to meet them just yet. I know you get nervous around new people, and I don't want to add to your stress right now. We'll wait until you're good and ready.

(.)

I'll always be patient with you, baby. Always.

(.)

Y'know, dysphoria and dysmorphia aren't mutually exclusive. In fact, it makes a lot of sense that the two would overlap. When I first turned, I felt like my body didn't reflect who I was. It was... easy to hate parts of my wolf form because it felt so impersonal.

(.)

Yeah, baby, I'm doing better now. It's you I'm worried about. Can you tell me about what you're feeling?

Like your body is synthetic...? Like you're unreal.

(.)

Alright, I get what you're saying. You feel like the real you is buried under a fake body, like wearing a heavy costume. Do you ever get aches?

(.)

It absolutely can manifest as physical pain, baby. Even when it feels unfamiliar, your body responds to your mental state. If you hurt inside, you're likely to hurt outside.

 (.)

How about a hot drink to calm you down, baby? I can feel all that tension you're holding in your back and shoulders.Would a mug of honey milk make you feel better?

(.)

You wanna watch me make it? Okay, wrap your arms around me. I'll carry you to the kitchen.

[Footsteps]

Alright, baby. Sit right here and watch me work my magic.

[Pans shuffle, milk pours, stove clicks]

Alright, let's see... honey, cardamom, cinnamon, vanilla extract...

Ahah, good. We've got everything. Learned this recipe from my pack leader.

(.)

Yeah, she's real good with the home remedy stuff. Made me this whenever I had my own nightmares. It always soothed me right back to sleep.

(.)

What do we do in the morning? Well, I assume you'll want to sleep in. But once you wake up, we'll decide what to do next together.

(.)

I know you're scared, baby. I'm right here with you. And I love you so, so much, every piece of you.

(.)

What if you don't love every piece of you...? Hm... What if we found some ways to make you more comfortable in your body?

(.)

We could set up a self-care routine. Even a spa day. I could cut your hair if you want.

(.)

Good start? Okay. Hmm... What were you thinking?

(.)

What's that, baby? Couldn't quite hear you.

(.)

Of course I would be okay with it! It's your body, baby; you don't need my permission.

(.)

I could never love you less. If anything, I love you more and more every day. I love every piece of you because it's you, it doesn't matter to me what the pieces are. Whatever you need, I'm here to support you a hundred percent.

(.)

Maybe you could start by bringing it up to your therapist. They know you have dysphoria, right? They could probably help you find a doctor that offers what you're looking for.

(.)

We can figure out who to talk to for this sort of stuff in the morning. For now we better get your honey milk off the stove before it burns.

[Milk pouring]

Annnd there you go.

(.)

Feeling a bit better now?

(.)

Good. I love you, baby. So, so much. I promise, I'll do everything in my power to help you feel comfortable in your own skin.

(.)

You can always depend on me. Promise.

(.)

(Chuckles) That was a big yawn, baby. Ready to go back to bed?

(.)

Alright, c'mere my little honey bunny. In my arms. Let's go snuggle up under the blankets. Your big bad werewolf will scare away any nasty nightmares.

(.)

That's it, I've got you. No matter what, I've got you.

END

[wildcatofgreen]

"So ya did meet Milla!" She snaps her fingers at the tenrec, idly stirring her milk and eels, "Figured you were talkin' about her earlier, but I wanted 'ta confirm it with the girl myself first. Guess Iun't even need to!" She sticks the spoon filled with milk in her mouth again.

Then, raised a brow.

"Maaaaybe freaky was a bad word, 'cause she ain't bad or nothin'. But I ain't gonna sit here an' say she'd totally normal. I mean, you haven't even seen her potions! One time that girl made me try jumpin' potion, right, an' it had the EXACT OPPOSITE EFFECT. I could barely move!" She giggles, rubbing the tip of her nose. "She's great, dun't get me wrong, but man."

Her expression turned into a squint at the mention of this ''Shadow'' again. Caught the name before but didn't pay it any mind, but now it was front and center. And now it's being mixed with this ''Chaos Control'' again?

...Wait.

She stayed silent in thought.

Okay so hold on. There's... there's pieces of a puzzle here. Pieces she's not entirely sure how to connect, but the pieces are all there just waiting to be solved.

Okay, lets start from the beginning then. Answer a couple questions. First off--Chaos Control, what the hell is that?

Well, according to Pred--that jackass--and Surge, it's... probably similar to how she teleports around? Not completely the same, obviously, but it's similar enough that two people on two separate occasions have made the comparison. First time, Pred said it was only ''certain people'' or whatever who could do it. And now it sounds like she's getting a name of one of those ''certain people''.

Shadow.

She's heard the name before. From... Terry, right? Something about how he copied Shadow or something, something something identical. He did robot things. They're like, brothers but not really. Twins, maybe? Wait was Shadow a robot too? If they're like, brothers, then they gotta be, right? That's how that works, or at least it should. Wouldn't make sense for them to be brothers but one of them's an ''organic''--not to quote another robot she knows but, it's kind of fitting terminology? They don't got robot parts in 'em they got flesh and blood and stuff, like normal people.

"Hey real quick is Shadow a robot? Like his brother's one so it'd only make sense, right?"

And whatever response Surge had to such an off-the-wall question would be entirely ignored by the wildcat. She didn't even look up from her cereal she just kept on swirling that spoon around, lost in thought.

Anyway, so, Shadow can do this funny Chaos Control thing, but... how, exactly?

''Gems not too dissimilar to her's''...

So, it stands to reason that Shadow has a gemerald of his own, prooooobably. And...

...

Okay actually that's all she's got. She can't really think of anything else to put together. Shadow's a robot, he's got a gemerald like Carol does and can do Chaos Control which is similar to what Carol also does. Besides for the robot thing they're like, the same person, basically.

She looks up again--wait what was Surge talking about?

Oh Stones right, the fucking, thing. She entirely missed everything she said didn't she? Wow she's a terrible friend.

Hand to her mouth, cleared her throat.

"Sorry, I uh. Got lost a bit there. Ya said ya got an item or somethin', right? An' 'ta take good care of it?

"Honestly I don't need it yet. I still gotta finish my cereal!"

She'll take that opportunity to down the entire bowl, much like Surge did. It was getting to the point where it was just bits and bops anyway--sure, she didn't demolish it like Surge did, but her bowl was just as empty.

"Aaaaaaa. Man that stuff's real damn good I tell ya. I'm glad ya liked it!!"

wildcatofgreen​:

She’d raise an eyebrow at the tenrec’s odd disposition, but mostly paid it no mind. Besides, she was back to normal in like, no time at all.

Her gaze averted from Surge, face a frown. She grabbed a couple more bits of eel from her bowl and plopped them in her mouth.

“Iunno, it just seems… gross, I guess? Like I ain’t gonna stop ‘em, but the thought of Neera and my sis bein’… anythin��. Fuckin’ yuck.

"Like I’d be fine if it were anyone else,” she points her spoon at the tenrec, waving it around as she spoke, “Hell, Cory could date my ol’ crush for all I care, but Neera? Seriously? Eugh!!!” She shut her eyes and stuck her tongue out in disgust. Yeah even to herself she couldn’t explain it properly, just something about it set her the wrong way. Even if it was just Cory flirting and Neera being barely receptive to it, it still bothered her. Stop that, please, she couldn’t take it.

She smirked.

“Yeaaaah, that’s Neera alright. Iunno what it is, but her an’ Milla got somethin’ weird goin’ on. They just kinda know stuff, like it ain’t even a thing.

”…You don’t know who Milla is, do you.“ The thought did not come to her even slightly–like, they met! Probably! She would have figured they gave each other their names. "Dog girl, ‘bout my height, orange hair. She’s freaky, too, but it don’t come up as much as Neera. She’s got somethin’ goin’ on.

"Actually, shit, she can’t ’'see your soul”, not really, but she can do soemthin’ similar. See, far as I understand it, everybody’s got a certain “element” to 'em or whatever. Fire, Water, Metal… damn it what the hell were the other two? Earth… Air? Was that the last one???“ She scoops up another batch of milk and eels, shoving it in her mouth. Chews, swallows, shakes her head. "Don’t matter–point is, she can see what people’s elements are. Mine’s Metal! Iunno how all of it works, but I remember her sayin’ somethin’ like, blah blah blah items got elements too or whatever–oh yeah!!!”

She holds up her necklace, “It’s how I do my teleportin’! See, 'cause my gem connects to the elements or whatever, as long as I got an object that’s connected to someone–that carries their element–then I can teleport to 'em! This one’s usually how I get home–'cause Iun’t think Sony’s gonna like, go anywhere that ain’t Avalice.

” 'Cept for that one time. That was kinda scary.

“Which, actually,” she quirks a brow dropping her necklace against her chest again, “You got somethin’ of your bro’s or somethin’? Could be a gift he gave you or something–as long as it’s like, from him. Would make teleportin’ a lot easier and waaaay less awkward for Tangie.”

Seriously, she can’t imagine the look on the lemur’s face when she teleports in and there’s two green gals in front of her. Especially since Surge is, from what she can gather, kind of infamous for wanting to murder Sonic???

Maybe she’s just assuming things too quickly, but the thought of Tangle immediately picking a fight with Surge because of stuff she doesn’t even wanna do… Haha, yeah she’d rather not.

Sometimes you can learn alot by not saying a word, and it was obvious Carol cared alot for her Sister, and maybe not so much about this Neera. Or maybe it was the idea that dating could lead to other things? Maybe it was more the idea that it could be something more? She didn’t know enough about Romance to really make any kind of judgement. All she knew was it reminded her of some cheesy ass movie she didn’t care for. Neera herself though? She came off as dangerous not for power or strength as she had no idea what that was. But just her personality. She was sort of person who could see right through you and predict your moves, precisely and kill you in a flash without ever batting an eye.  It was how Starline described Blaze, cold, calculating, and willing to do what others didn’t have the stomach for. It was what she saw in Neera, and that sort of enemy was dangerous. But she could respect it to, maybe that’s why she didn’t like lying to Neera—she respected her in a way. 

The Tenrec picked up a pice of bread and stuck her finger out shooting electricity along the underside of the bread, toasting in real time! A trick she learned that Kit found amusing and well she still had an odd taste in her mouth. So she chomped on it while listening to Carol complain, but felt that commenting on it wasn’t her place. But really— She couldn’t stop them, and Carol had best either get use to it or she was gonna go mad if Surge was right. But what she didn’t do was tease Carol about it, it did cross her mind though. 

Her ears perked at the dog girls description, and touched her chin as it sounded like— the girl in the woods. 

“ Oh Yea… Green things on them big floppy ears— i did meet her. In the woods, when i got a bit lost. Nice Kid, bit naïve but that smile sure was infectious… she knew who i was for sure. Tried to convince me i didn’t need to do all that shit—guess it worked. “

She chomped into her toast, she wanted to talk to her again. The girl whose paste mirrored her own in a way.

“ Milla Huh… think she had me pegged moment she saw me… but freaky? ah i dunno seemed normal enough to me. “

So elements? That was strange she wondered what hers was, just out of curiosity, but that explained some of it. Maybe she could figure people out based on there element? maybe she didn’t have one maybe its why Neera looked at her funny. Maybe its why the dog girl was sympathetic to her? She didn’t know but it sure made her think about this world some more—lots of shit she didn’t have a clue about.

“ Huh so that’s how yer gem works huh? Connectin’ to items? Ain’t gonna pretend i understand that shit. Reminds me of Chaos Control though… not that i know shit about it. That’s more Shadows trick… huh. “

Something of Kits? Something her brother gave her, something she cherished? Course she did, though it wasn’t something she flashed around. She reached under her shirt and tugged out a necklace that was normally very well hidden her shirt and fur. Something she kept close to her heart. The necklace was made of a bit of a polished black opal, shaped into a half a heart. Etched into the stone in silver was the name Kitsunami. Of course he had the other half and this half was hers, it connected them and reminded them that they would always be two halves of the coin. Together they could do anything, and it was not something she was keen on others seeing. 

“ Just be careful with that… kinda means alot to me…an yea best not to drop in on that Lemur. I’m pretty sure she knows who i am… and would flip if she saw me… i tried to kill her little idol… doubt it sits well with her… i also may have kinda beat her wolf friend up… so i bet i’m on her shit list. I’d say sorry but i doubt she’d take me seriously “ 

[zoeykallus]

Kriff I don't know how I missed those two pain-comforting HC ones before hhh those are Great I'm weak for fluff

I did realize a while after I sent my ask about Migraines I was perhaps a lil too vague and/or forgot what I kinda had in mind to narrow things down since migraines are so complex sometimes so that's my bad sorry about that..

Since migraines can cause mild/extreme sensitivities to things like light, touch, smell and food I imagine there's something that each of the Batch is good at taking care of for Reader? You're really good at describing the senses in your fan-works

Oh I see, yeah I'm a aware of a few of the symptoms, I personally mainly experienced, light and sound sensitivity, aswell as nausea at times. Not sure if I'm doing this right, but let me try.

The Bad Batch x Reader - Taking Care HC's 2

Hunter

He knows migraine attacks, in the first years when he first had to get used to his senses, as a young cadet, he actually had them often. The human body is simply not designed to perceive the environment as intensely as Hunter can. He knows what it's like to have his senses exhausted. As soon as he notices that you have one of your attacks, he darkens the room and makes sure that you have peace. He will leave you alone for the most part, bring you water, but be very quiet so you can relax as much as possible. You can take your time, Hunter is unobtrusive and keeps a low profile as long as you are feeling so bad. But if you need him for anything, he is of course always ready.

Echo

He makes sure that you lie down, that your surroundings are as quiet and distraction-free as possible, that you get enough fresh air and that you are covered. Echo is calm and gentle, stroking your head very gently, ghosting his fingers over the top of your head. If it is really very bad, he will give or get you appropriate pain medication if you need it. He is gentle but unobtrusive, he stays by your side or at least near you, just in case, but acts calm and reserved.

Wrecker

Is such a lively guy, but when you are really unwell, he is incredibly sweet and reserved. By now he knows how to best help you, what foods you prefer on those days, that you need peace and quiet to relax and he needs to back off a bit. He likes to do this for you, however, he does not like to see you suffer. It annoys him that he can only help you to a certain extent, but he smiles with relief and peace every time he sees that he could help you feel better and recover.

Tech

This is one of those rare moments when you can barely hear him talk. He knows that any noise can be terrible, he himself has had migraines from time to time, but with him it is triggered by his mind, which is in constant calculating mode. He can't stop working in his head no matter what he is doing, every now and then it ends up in a severe migraine. He knows all the tricks and with him you are safe, he takes care that you are protected from external stimuli and have everything you need, otherwise he keeps some distance, unless of course you want him to stay with you. Then he sits quietly with you and reads a little, while he gently holds your hand.

Crosshair

In his early years he had migraines similar to Hunter's, his perfected vision was something his body had to get used to within his development and since all clones go through an accelerated aging process, he was similarly overwhelmed as Hunter was with his senses in the beginning. He no longer has migraines, but they are not unknown to him. His reaction is withdrawal. He may give you a tip or two, but as long as you don't ask him to stay, he tends to withdraw to give you rest, because he remembers well that this was something he always wanted but rarely got during his migraines. He is understanding, but overall somewhat reserved. He will not tell you about his experience, but will still share what he has learned through it to help you.

Omega

Sweet Omega prepares cool packs for your forehead, brings you vitamin-rich snacks, and is happy to take care of you. Hunter watches the whole thing from the background with a little smile. She is so empathetic, calm and understanding, very smart for such a young girl. She brings you drinks, she will be quiet most of the time as she understands by now that noise can be very unpleasant for you, but if you don't drink regularly she will remind you kindly but firmly. She wants you to take care of yourself. If she wants more information about your condition, she will talk to Tech, who of course will gladly give her all the information she wants.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

[avoidantrecovery]

My takeaway from reading about internal family systems

Since I finished listening to the "No Bad Parts" audiobook by Richard Schwartz, I thought I should write a little about it.

First of all my general impression. What I like about Internal Family Systems is that it is trauma-informed, mindful and generally helps you see what you think of as your flaws, as your helpers. No criticizing, no exposure to fears, no mastering or improving or practicing. Just "hey, you're feeling XYZ about this, lets take a closer look. Maybe it's trying to tell us something about what needs healing. Maybe we can help solve it. I'm not a professional, so this takeaway is from someone just looking for help herself.

IFS is based on the idea that everybody has "parts", though this is not about DID or multiple personality, although the author does say a couple things about that too. Instead it's about that feeling you sometimes have, let's say you want to workout and a part of you genuinely wants to go outside, but another part of you wants to sit on the couch and relax. It feels like two parts of you that want different things, although they are both part of you, right?

Well, IFS says that as humans we have many such parts that exist in us and these parts can be influenced (or burdened) by the trauma we experience. Those burdened parts can then go on to influence our behavior, for example when we are triggered. I was a bit discouraged by this when I first read it tbh, because it sounded to woowoo for me. But at the same time it also made a lot of sense, I often feel like there are semi-independent parts of me that sometimes take over from me even though I go on to regret it. Like when I overshare, I know I'm making a mistake but I can't stop myself. Or when I procrastinate/self-sabotage, even tough I really want to do this thing.

I have found another similar description for parts being neural pathways, habits or (in the case of mental health/trauma) coping mechanisms. Other psychologists use terms like inner critic or inner child for this, the concepts are definitely similar. But I do think the idea/concept of parts is unique and thus offers a unique path to possible healing.

Parts

IFS divides the parts into roughly three types, although subtypes and hybrids have been coined too:

exiles - these are parts that we have "cut out" from us because they represent something that elicits shame, anxiety, etc... and are likely to trigger us. In other words, trauma wounds, inner children, etc...

managers - manager parts try to keep the exiles away from us and influence the way we interact with the world. their role is protective and preemptive. they are often also described as inner critics, but don't have to be harsh. i would also say, they make us employ masks to get through life.

firefighters - these parts are essentially panic buttons. they are the parts that appear when an exile somehow manages to come to the surface. they make us use extreme and detrimental behavior in order to soothe us, and make the exiles retreat again. think any kind of addictive and self-sabotaging behavior.

You'll often see the word protector used as well, it's simply a word forth both, managers and firefighters.

The Self

The Self is a something (not a part) that exists in all of us, but can be obscured or influenced by parts. But it is essentially that crystal clear entity within us that simply exists and that is essentially always good. Everyone has one always, it does not need to be created or trained, simply tapped into. Schwartz describes it as having the 8 Cs:

Curiosity.

Compassion.

Clarity.

Connectedness.

Creativity.

Courage.

Confidence.

Calm.

At it's best the Self is able to communicate between parts, help them heal (become unburdened) and creates a warm, happy, healthy feeling within you. At it's worst, it can become blended with parts, and appear as a harsh inner critic as well. In this case, it needs to be unblended from possible managers that have bound onto it before tapping into it.

***

In IFS you are encouraged to map your parts, meaning figure out what parts you might have formed, and what brings them to the surface. And then communicate (preferably with the help of a therapist who guides/keeps you safe) between them in order to figure out what a manager might be protecting you from. Or what the exile might be burdened with. After that one resolves the old trauma and frees the parts to disappear or do other things.

I find this approach very interesting, as it's been the most helpful tool I've learned in the last couple of months or even years. I haven't been able to map out everything, but I feel like I'm getting somewhere in terms of really figuring out exactly where my behaviors come from and what I need to tackle in order to finally heal. I don't feel like I have to fight against myself, or attack myself or punish myself in order to make progress. There is an aspect of mindfulness with each step, even when you fail or feel like you're not doing it right. Even the negative feelings/reactions/memories I have just feel like guideposts to where I have to look. It's far more effective, because I'm less likely to give up in frustration. And as someone who has been dissociated for years essentially, it leads me closer back to the real me, if that makes sense. And in a loving way too, not just acceptance that I'm shit lol.

Like when I feel "lazy" and can't do a certain task, I know it's likely just a "part" that is trying to keep me from doing said task for some reason. So I ask myself why does this task in particular make me procrastinate? Oh it's because it has something to do with what my dad did/said about me 10 or 20 years ago. So then I root around for a possible exile. Oh it's 14 yr old me, feeling fucked up and ashamed because she didn't measure up to some arbitrary and impossible goal set up by my dad. She is in her room alone and feels deep shame about not being enough. Ah because my task is related to possibly failing (not being enough), a manager is trying to keep that shame-filled exile from coming to the surface. So I (the Self) can then negotiate with the manager about this, how I'm older now, I definitely am I enough, and even if I make a mistake/fail it's fine, etc... if the manager believes this, it relaxes, stops being so harsh. After that I can communicate with the exile (inner child) as well. Tell her that she mustn't be scared of not being enough, how I know many things now, how my dad was wrong, how it's okay to make mistakes, etc etc... And then hopefully that resolves the burdens and frees up the parts, leaving me feeling better. There are many meditations one can do in order to free them, like taking the inner child to a nicer better place, etc... some are described in the book as well.

I do wonder how effective this will be with helping me with AvPD, but so far I'm at least making baby steps. If you've read this far wow, thanks so much, I hope this helps you too!

[doriana-gray-games]

Collection of asks !

Hi! Don't want to clog up your dashboards so I am answering some asks that have piled up while I was a bit absent <3

(Game update status: both going good and bad. Stuck on this one scene, but I am starting to see the end in the tunnel lol. Have been trying a new approach where I don't edit while writing :0 it's hard but does increase productivity! I just hope the quality isn't too bad after it lol. You can tell me once the update is out haha!)

Bahaha Love that! W deserves all the love <3

😏😏😏 Watson likes all of Sherlock, tho I'm sure they are partial to some... parts hehe

But the reaction is not new!! Tho I know a lot of people miss it (there's a few easily missed things tbh haha, maybe not optimal, but I find it fun to hide little things). There's one reaction with small waist too !

lolol I see it. I have a scene in my notes where MC basically has to teach H to sit on (and touch) grass...

@jumpyhamster Maybe? Not sure yet, sorry!

Ah--was it so obvious i'm not english haha! Yeah, I might as well tell you all too (despite my best efforts of internet anonymity, I talk too much on discord lol) I am Swedish. So if I make some weird English mistake or miss some quintessential British thing the MC or NPCs would know plz let me know! <3

Aww I think I know who this is!!! 💛💛💛 hearts right back!!!!

@4332 <3<3<3 I'm so glad you liked it!! (I don't recommend it to 12 years old tho! might be too adult for that haha)

<3 <3 <3

I am for sandwich solidarity in all forms haha! XD

Hopefully MC will be able to get them a not-chewed on sandwich soon <3

It seems I can't paste more images sorry-- One similar question I got was what the elegant body type looks like:

Currently the body types won't assume a lot much more than the word and possibly synonyms to the word. That's because it's so subjective. So--if I were to make further content about it I probably will have to ask further questions about that setting <3 I do think it would be fun and interesting to do!

Elegant, is again, what you want it to mean. But generally I've heard it to mean semi-long limbs with "ideal" like proportions. And in mass perhaps somewhere between tall-athletic and lean. I personally think of grace kelly I think

Love this game and the new details you added <3 this is definitely a spoilery question but man, i gotta ask... what happened in Lestrade's life that to made him so... unhappy? Careless with his own wellbeing? :(

<3

A previous answer I have given: "Just a spiral of things. Life turning the wrong way, things looking bad on the horizon, failing to take care of themselves so they have poor chances of climbing out or realising they even can." In addition to this. This had not started when MC and L first met. And there was a catalyst event, that set it off, and in a way MC is involved in this.

💖💝💕💯💐

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

you deserve to go to jail for making me choose between two cute love interests... that aside, your game has helped me a lot while struggling with mental health problems. which sounds a little silly but genuinely it warms my heart when i don't feel well. so thank you for creating something so wonderful. + i know most asks here are RO-related but im also very excited to see how the story goes!

Gosh Anon, you gave me a heart-attack with those first few words haha-- but to the rest, thank you so much <3<3<3 That's very sweet. I'm really glad and honoured to help in anyway I can. There's a lot of plot coming anon! Don't you worry! :D

harrypotternerd934 asked:

I need to say that I'm absolutely amoured by your story. I really enjoy playing as Sherlock and I think you did a really great job at capturing the vibe of the setting.

Much love and further luck with your story 🤗

@harrypotternerd934 <3

Aww, thank you so much! <3<3<3

approxtwelveangrybees asked:

I need you to know that I had so much fun with the Victorian gazing in the first two chapters

@approxtwelveangrybees <3<3<3

Congratulations on the anniversary <3 the update was so good.. all the little reworked scenes... the love kernels... But wait, will there actually be a love triangle route!!!!?

Yeees <3 Lot's of them <3

phaedraismyusername asked:

My favourite line of the update - just a top tier IQ drop right there 😍 lol

The whole thing was so good! An absolute joy to read as always ❤️❤️❤️

@phaedraismyusername <3<3<3 You're a joy!!! <3<3<3 (I love how people are discovering the thigh line haha)

and to "The trio Lestrade/hungry tumblr anon" Thank you for your story <3

[dumbmusclehypnojockboy]

Jersey Bros by writer-ofstuff

"So, how did these two do?"

"What do you think? Failures. Just like the others have been."

"I don't know. I wouldn't say they were total failures." The lead scientist mused.

"Sir? What do you mean? The super soldier serum didn't work." His assistant said.

"Yes, while that is true, it does tells us we are on the right track to perfecting it." The scientist said. He types on the computer and brings up their two subject's readings to show his assistants what he means.

"Look at their readings. Their DNA is already changing due to the serum. Which means we are closer to our breakthrough. We just need to do some more adjustments to the formula to get it exactly what we want it to do." He explains.

His assistants nod their heads in understanding and then busy themselves with work that the lead scientist instructs them to begin.

"Sir, what should we do with these two?" One of the asked, gesturing towards the two men who lay asleep on the metal table in the next room.

"Toss them out on the beach. They are no longer of any use to me now." He says dismissively.

The assistant nods his head and calls up a few soldiers who stood guard outside to help take Dean Winchester and Derek Hale's sleeping forms out of the lab and into a truck. Driving them down to an isolated part of the beach just as the morning sign rises and leaves the two sleeping men on the sandy beach.

------

Derek awakes with start, sitting up and looking out at the ocean while the gentle waves wash up and down the sand shore. He rubs his hand through his hair, not caring he is getting small pieces of sand in it.

He feels like he is forgetting something, like the last few hours there is just a hole in his memory. Derek turns his attention to the man sleeping close by him. The werewolf rolls his eyes when he hears Dean starting to snore rather loudly. He has a hard to believing this guy his a feared and bad ass hunter when he is passed out with his ass up in the air and a little drool coming out of his mouth.

Derek doesn't quite remember why he and this hunter teamed up, that being part of the missing pieces in Derek's memories. Yet he still for some reason remembers meeting Dean.

Derek gets to his feet and walks the short distance between himself and the sleeping hunter and lightly kicks him with his foot. The action jars Dean away who quickly rolls over and hits up, sand falling off his face from where he had laid asleep.

"Wake up."

"Wha? I am up." Dean says in a sleepy voice. Rubbing his face clean of the drool and the sand that was still on his face.

"Derek? Why are we on a beach?" Dean asked.

The hunter had sounded just as confused as Derek felt. So Derek doubts asking Dean if he knew what was going on here would be of any help.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Derek says.

He offers his hand out for Dean to take to help the other man up. As soon as their hands make contact a strange feeling jolts through both men's hands. The two men are so startled they let go of their hands and Dean falls on his ass.

"Oops, sorry bro." Derek says.

He frowns when he thinks about why he just referred to Dean as bro. That wasn't a word that Derek would use yet it just slipped out when he spoke. Derek thought nothing of it, besides Stiles said bro all the time so it must have just slipped into his speech.

Thinking about Stiles, Derek started to wonder where the younger man was. He had an odd feeling that he had been looking for him and grew tense at the thought.

'Was Stiles endanger and he didn't remember it?' He thought for a moment. But then his mind felt a little dizzy and then he thought about how the younger man is just at home relaxing.

Derek glances at Dean who looks lost in thought as well. Derek wants to ask him what he is thinking about, but he refrains from it. Dean was a hunter so Derek didn't want to bother to get to know the other man.

Now that he thinks about it, why was he even with Dean? He asks the human and sees Dean's confused frown deepened as he pauses walking.

"Huh, I don't know either." Dean said.

This honestly should alarm both men, yet Derek felt himself feeling relaxed instead. He assumes Dean feels the same way since the other man doesn't make a move to get away from Derek by walking in the other direction.

As they continue to walk side by side down the sandy empty beach Derek's mind wonders. Thinking about how the pair ended up on the beach anyway. Surely there was a reason wasn't there? At the moment he couldn't think what the reason was. When he asked Dean the other man shrugged his shoulders and didn't say a word.

When Derek stole a glance at him he frowned when he noticed that Dean's hair looked lighter than before.

'Wasn't his hair brown?' He thought to himself while he looked at Dean's now bleach blond hair. The hair style even looked different. Looking a little longer and styled differently with hair products to give Dean a fluffy faux hawk style hair do.

The hairstyle even made Dean look younger to Derek. The older man now looks like he is around Derek's age instead of a man pushing into his late thirties.

This was really starting to confuse Derek, but the more he pondered what was going on here the more those thoughts left his mind and he got distracted by something else.

"Did you change your hair?"

Dean hears Derek ask and he turns his attention to the werewolf.

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked. He wasn't really paying attention to what Derek said. Busy in his thoughts about why he was on a beach with a werewolf.

"Your hair. It looks different." Derek said.

Dean touched his hair, feeling how it was a little stiff from the hair product he put in this morning after his shower. It felt like his usual style, telling Derek as such.

When Dean looks over at Derek it's his turn to be confused since Derek's facial hair looked different. He could have sworn Derek had a thick amount of stubble along his jaw and around his mouth. Yet now Derek's face was all clean shaven except for some scruff that covered his chin.

Dean had intended to ask Derek about it, but he then thinks against it. After all it would sound rather odd to ask Derek that. Since obviously Derek just had the chin scruff prior, Dean must have just been mistaken is all.

He started to second guess himself, wondering what if something was going on here with himself and Derek. Especially since he couldn't quite explain why the two were even together in the first place.

The two men reach the boardwalk and continue to walk side by side in silence. The pair were both lost in their own minds trying to make sense of what they were doing when Dean noticed a gym to their right.

He pauses and stands outside it, looking inside through the glass windows. When Derek notices he isn't by his side the werewolf pauses and turns around.

"You alright bro?" Derek asked.

His voice sounded off to him and he clears his throat and asks again.

Dean didn't answer him so Derek walked up to stand beside him. He peers through the window of the gym like Dean is doing.. For a moment nothing happened but then Derek starts to get flashes of memories in his head. He sees himself inside the gym, working out with Dean. The two chat like they are best friends while they spot one other while they work out.

The memories he recalls aren't really, he knows this, but at the same time they feel like they are real to Derek and he hates that.

"Come on bro, let's get goin yeah?" Derek asks. Again his voice sounds off to him, but he can't quite place why.

"In a bit dude, I need to see somethin." Dean replies.

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but before he could Dean confused walking into the gym without another word.

"Fuckin hell." Derek grunted.

He paced a little outside, debating on what he should do. Running his hand through his hair, as soon as his hand falls back to his side his hair shifts. The sides shaving down to a buzz style while the mid section of his hair style back as it lengthens.

He thinks about just leaving Dean. Clearly something strange is going on here and that is the reason they feel holes in their memories while also having these fragments of new memories.

"Fuck it." Derek grunts and follows Dean into the gym.

------

Dean can't explain the urge he felt to go into the gym. Like Derek he gained those similar memories of himself and the other man coming here. In those false memories it seemed like they were close friends despite the two men hardly knowing one another.

He told himself this was to get to the bottom of things. Instead though Dean just wanders through the main area of the gym. He only sees men in the gym, some guys alone working out while others are grouped up and chatting while jogging on the treadmill.

What makes it strange is how some of them address him by his name, as if they know Dean. Rather than question how they know him Dean just rolls with it, greeting them back. While he does and continues deeper into the gym. His body alters, muscles becoming more toned and defined. Gained from years of working put and maintaining this kind of physique rather than Dean having earned it through training.

The tattoo on his left pec that wards of possession starts to break apart. The ink traverses along Dean's chest under his shirt. Wisps of ink branch off to spread along Dean's arms while the rest form into different styles of tattoos.

More false memories bombard Dean's mind and the hunter clenches his head as he attempts to push those new thoughts out of his mind. He looks ahead of him Dean sees he is standing a few steps away from a large wall mirror. He can see his green eyes darken and for a brief moment he fears he is being possessed by a demon.

"Demon? Demon's don't exist," he then thinks.

His green eyes turn brown, his lips get a little fuller, nose wider and the bridge of it becomes slimmer. Dean grunts, watching his face change before his eyes and unable to do anything but throw his arms up and start to pose. Smirking at his biceps and admiring how large they are. Giving into the admiration of his own appearance finally pushes Dean over. His mind purging his own self from it finally as his new dimwitted and vain self takes over.

He lifts his shirt up to admire his hard earned abs and pecs next once he has had enough flexing. Only stopping to look around and wonder where his best bro is at.

📷

----------

Navigating through the gym was making Derek feel uneasy. What connection he had left to his werewolf abilities was telling him something wasn't right about this place. The men he walked by all seemed like the same type. Self absorbed meat heads who cared only about themselves and showing off.

Derek despised shallow men like this. So whenever any of them tried to stop and talk to him he would give them a glare and ignore them to continue his search for Dean.

The further Derek ventured into the gym the harder it was to recall past memories of his. Thoughts he would have would shift to random things.

'I'm totally bigger than that dude.'

'Jason's here? May need to see if he wants to fuck in the locker room again.'

'Mike's here too. Should talk to him about getting another tat.'

'Where the hell is Dean at? My bro needs to spot me.'

Derek tried to shove those thoughts away but it felt like the more he tried to, the more adamant they were to linger in his head.

He needed to find Dean and get out of here. When he reaches the back area of the gym he finds a tattooed dude posing in front of the mirror.

Derek thought of what a self absorbed guido the guy was. The type of guy you would hate on a trash reality show. He releases only to realize a moment later that this man was somehow Dean.

Astonished, Derek quickly approaches Dean, opening his mouth to ask what happened to him.

"Looking good bro." He says instead. Taken aback by his own words.

Dean turns to look at him and grins.

"You see yourself bro? You hitting the iron hard ya?" Dean replies.

Derek wants to deny it, but he can feel his body surging with muscle. He tries to repel the ongoing changes, but it proves to be useless. His pecs inflate to large and firm pectorals. While his biceps gained quite a bit of bulk to them. The rest of him gained a significant amount of solid muscle while Derek also felt himself growing a little taller.

His pale skin darkened with a tan gained from walking around shirtless and hitting the tanning bed when he could.

Derek tries even harder to repel these alterations happening to him. Not wanting to end up like some self absorbed dick like Dean had become. He assumes being a werewolf has given him an edge that made whatever caused this work slower on him.

He can feel himself being overweight by whatever this is, wincing when two diamond studs appear in his earlobes and his mind shatters a few moments later. Derek stood there in a daze while his old thoughts were overrun by a new persona.

Derek then blinks himself awake, a slow grin spreading on his face as he flexes for Dean.

"Fuck yeah bro. You know I gotta keep this bod in shape for the studs." Derek said with a heavy Jersey accent.

He stands beside Dean and the best bros make faces and pose for a picture. Uploading it to social media before the pair get back to their workout routine. Neither of them remembering anything of their past selves.

📷

[buckybarnesdiaries]

heaven

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x fem!reader x sam wilson

⎢ masterlist.

word count: 1.781.

warnings/tags: NSFW, +18!!! threesome, fingering, unprotected sex, language, mention of bodily fluids.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

You weren't drunk enough to blame alcohol for letting Sam invade your mouth with his expert tongue. The music outside of the random room you found maintained you with your feet on reality somehow, to not think it was a dream. A good dream. Even if you were focused on the way he was making you feel and the heat he was causing between your legs to burn down your soul, Bucky's fingers rolling the dress' straps by your arms until it fell to the floor kept your attention on him too. From one second to another, you were naked among the only two men you desired in your life —your boyfriend and his new best friend.

You couldn't help but moan pleased when they pressed you against their bodies and Bucky's huge hands made their way to your hard nipples. He squeezed your breasts slowly, delighting himself with every touch and the sound of every gasp dying on Sam's tongue, still dominating yours masterfully. You ran out of breath at the feeling of their rock dicks being rubbed to your ass and pussy respectively. You were in heaven between those two men.

“Tell him what you want, doll”. Your boyfriend murmured hoarsely into your ear, touring the shape of it with his teeth, causing you goosebumps all around.

“Ca— Can you…? Fuck…” You whined through your parted lips when Bucky dug his incisors in your shoulder. “Sam… I… I wan— want yo— shit… I've fantasized of you… fuckin— fucking me with your fingers”.

“That's what you want, uh?” He inquired rhetorically, pawing your sides roughly as one of his hands toured your right thigh straight to your cunt barely covered by a thin thong. Soaked.

“Please…” You begged, placing your arms around his neck.

Sam licked his lips, not needing to look at Bucky for permission. What you didn't know is that ten minutes ago they had a conversation on the terrace to make that happen. No one could deny that you'd die for Bucky's love. He was everything you had, and you were everything he had. But, when both of them appeared in your house really fucked after a mission, you started to feel some kind of desire for Sam. Only desire. Your heart was occupied with your boyfriend.

You came back from your thoughts as soon as the second man recently involved moved the small string aside. He played and teased your folds using the fingertip of his index digit, making you toss your head back to Bucky's left shoulder. Your boyfriend drunk delighted the crying you uttered inevitably when Sam slammed his finger into your tight walls, clenching around him. While the soldier was being all sweetness and delicacy, kissing you slowly, the pilot started to fuck you hard adding a second curled finger. And God blessed the loud music outside to cover your wrecked moans and your pleads.

“Does Sam make you feel good, doll?” Bucky purred with his eyes fixed on yours, watching you gasp in sync with the palm crashing violently against your pussy.

The three of you knew you hadn't much time to be disappeared before someone suspected, and the fierce pace of thrusts to your g-spot had you shivering under Bucky's grip.

“Oh, fuck, Sam”. You sobbed, not being able to form a proper sentence.

As your boyfriend guided his lips to your neck —sucking a hickey there to mark his forever-territory—, the pilot was back to attack your mouth. Your fingers were tightly nailed to the back of his head, starting to rock your hips looking for more friction against their sensible cocks. The grunts coming from them filled the room.

“Shit… you're gonna make me cum in my pants”. Sam growled, landing his free hand in your ass, squeezing it and forcing you to move it faster against Bucky's dick, being a bundle of moans dying on your neck.

“Got'a better idea…”

As you heard your boyfriend chuckling petty onto your ear with his orbs fixed on the dark ones of his friend, you knew they were going to ruin you.

“Listen to me now, doll. 'M gonna leav—”.

“Plea— Please, Bucky, don't”. You whined, not knowing how much you could handle the way Sam was impaling you by adding a third finger, making you cover your mouth with a hand or the whole compound would hear you.

“I can wait for you”. He hummed, turning your face towards his. “But I wan'you to show him how good you make me feel… And I'll give you a reward later”.

You were conscious that it didn't matter the times you begged him to stay, they had made a decision before coming into that room and that was what was going to happen. Bucky placed one last kiss full of love and tender at the moment Sam gave a break to your abused cunt, and you watched him leave after checking there wasn't anybody around, placing well his jeans in the zone of his bulge crotch.

“We can't stop if you don' want to continue”. Sam mumbled then, holding your hand to bring you closer.

You were panting trying to recover your breathing, pouting at him inevitably. As soon as Bucky left you alone, you felt a slap of reality and insecurities straight to your face. And he noticed it, gently wrapping your lower back with his arms since your legs were shaking and too weak to stand by themselves.

“Look at me”. He asked you then, showing you a fleeting smile barely curving up his lips. “Bucky wants it and I do too. But it only matters if you want or not. This… This is like a test, alright? You try and if you like, and if you want, we'll repeat. Bucky, you and I”.

You nodded hardly swallowing, sure that you'd make it up to your boyfriend later. You weren't in love with Sam, only with Bucky and you needed to demonstrate it to him. You glanced at the pilot unzipping his pants to pull them down along his boxers, letting his painful erection spring free to his abdomen still covered by the white shirt he was wearing. Your right hand gripped his sensitive skin, licking your lips at the sight, pumping his glorious dick slowly, as Sam made you walk backward to the immaculately done bed. He sat first, not being in need of telling you what you had to do next.

He watched you pull down by your thighs your black thong till it was thrown on the floor, before heading to his lap and sitting on it. Sam's cock was thick and long, pretty similar to Bucky's, so you knew it will cost you a second to fit your clenching and abused cunt around him, but you were too anxious for being fucked by him that you didn't care. You practically bounced on Sam, ramming his hardness into you beyond your limits. He was fast enough to make you drown the loud cry out in his mouth, crashing his lips on yours.

He filled you completely, gripping his hands in your hips slightly painful to urge you to move, to dance your body. And you did it with nothing but whines and gasps.

“You're so… tight, baby girl”. Sam grunted rolling his eyes white. “Oh, fuck…”

You still couldn't believe what was happening between those four walls. You were impaling your cunt once and once, with any mercy, using your boyfriend's best friend's dick. And you liked it. You loved it. Sam was making you feel really good. Not the same way Bucky used to do, but enough to put you to beg him for letting you cum. You needed it, and you wanted him to flood your guts too.

“Ple— Please… Please”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck, feeling the tears of pure desperation run down your cheeks.

“C'mon, my sweet girl… cream my dick…” He whispered with such a honeyed tone, almost hurting you by the way he had to nail tighter his fingertips in your buttocks. Painfully pleasurable.

You couldn't contain the orgasm anymore at his petition, looking for his mouth to invade yours again by using his tongue to drown the delighted scream he caused on you, while the ecstasy hit your body wildly. But Sam didn't stop from forcing you to keep jumping onto his twitching cock, pushing you down strongly and feeling him almost touching your stomach when his seed was spilled inside your clenching and glad abused pussy.

“For the fuc— fucking love of… God”. He roared in a broken tone of voice.

Your thighs were quivering at both sides of his legs, your lungs were emptied and your mind went completely blank.

Once you made sure to look like anything happened, you left the room before Sam —ashamed but satisfied—. Trying to walk normally, as your legs were still feeling weak, you looked for your boyfriend where he told you where he was going to be waiting for you. In the desolate kitchen. You glanced at Bucky sipping a glass of whisky, suddenly fading away your embarrassment and your insecurities with a smirk towards you, stretching his cold hand to hold yours and push you to his warm body.

“Did Sam fuck you good, uh?” He wanted to know humming, gently caressing your swollen and somewhat darker lips with his iron thumb. You nodded in silence, stealing the glass from his other hand to drink it in just one gulp.

“Can yo… Can you take me home?” You murmured in a plea, almost pouting at him.

“Hey, hey… Listen”. His tone changed in the blink of an eye from seduction to concern, placing his index finger under your chin. “You don' have to demonstrate me anythin'… God… I've never in my life felt so damn turned on than tonight… Watching you being fucked by Sam while you were looking at me…”

“You… You didn't leave bec—”.

Bucky interrupted you by freeing your hand from the glass, wrapping his left around your throat, and nailing the other in the center of your ass, directing his middle finger to that tight unexplored hole under your dress.

“I wan'to repeat, doll”. He purred in your ear, causing you to gasp against his by the pressure in your entrance. “I wan' Sam and I to fuck you at once… I wan' you to suck my dick —your dick— as he eats your sweet, little pussy… Fuck… Fuck, I'm hard only by imagining it, doll”.

“Buck…” You sobbed tightening your fingers in his shoulders. “Take me home… I beg you… Please”.

a / n: i'm thinking about turning this into a polyamorous relationship, and therefore into a series. what do you think?

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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[dumbass-mha-simp]

Elliott x GN!Reader

Your New Playlist

Kinda sad? Ig angst but not actually like, bad angst yk.

1k words

Stardew Valley

Warnings: crying, mentally beating yourself over a crush, self-sacrificing but not in a death kinda way, cussing (I think like one f word), Elliott is a theater kid you can't convince me otherwise,

I wanna do a part two, would anyone be interested? I know how much us Elliott simps want fanfiction. I'm probably gonna start on it anyway lol.

Yes I actually made this playlist smh ikik, you don't have to listen to it ofc but his aesthetic really fits my music taste, at least I feel so. I write my fanfiction as gender neutral as I can but if you ever spot any mistakes I'd love to fix it!!

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

Elliott's POV

My feet took me across the path leading to Leah's house. The gentle cotton clouds stretching their wisps across the blue sky, bright enough to blind me as though it were the sun that it surrounds. The gentle new Spring breeze froze my cheeks lightly as my eyes closed to avoid the same chill from the past winter.

Fresh Spring flowers and hidden vegetables encircled her yard as I made my way to knock against the dark wood door that always seemed thunderingly loud.

Leah peaked through the window by her door before I can see her face light up and reach for the door.

"Hey, c'mon in!" She opens the door wider to let me pass through. "How are you doing?"

"If I'm honest, a little troubled." I sigh looking forlornly to the floor.

"Come sit." Leah pulls me to her table and sits in the accompanying seat. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Leah, what does it feel like to you before you admit you fancy someone?" I look up into her listening eyes before her face changes into slight shock.

"Hmmm." She brings her hand up to her chin as she ponders. "Well, you miss being around them when they're gone. You constantly find ways to connect anything back to them, like `oh they'd love this`, or `I should check up on them.` You care about their opinion more than others and you want to learn about them, even if it's the uninteresting things."

I slide my arms down onto the table, placing my head on top of them. That sounded exactly like what's happening. I had read about it a million times, falling gently in love with a close friend. Perhaps that interest to become friends was always attraction.

"I can't get enough of Y/N." I muffled through my folded arms sighing once again as I turned my head to finally look back up at Leah, the light stinging my eyes.

"Well maybe I could help you with getting more of them?" Leah smirked as she grabbed her phone from her pocket.

I lifted my head slightly panicked. "What are you doing?" I rushed out.

"Relax, I'm not telling Y/N. But they shared something with me. They have a wide music taste yes?"

I had heard some of their music. While they made us lunch, while they partake in their hobbies, when they hum near silently late at night on the beach. I nodded back thinking of how they never seemed to be signing along to a song similar to the others. Unpredictable, and absolutely captivating.

"Well one of their tastes in music is very folk-y and they mentioned how those songs reminded them of you. So they made a playlist of songs that remind themselves of you." Leah said looking down and scrolling through her phone.

They made a playlist about me. They actively want to remember and listen to things that remind themselves of me. I feel I might faint. Was this something that was common among friends? Was this nothing more than an act of kindness? Or something they decided to do on a whim?

"Here give me your phone I'll send it to you." She holds her hand out expectantly.

I quickly go to pull out the hardly used device. I had never had much use for it but if it could bring me any step closer to Y/N I wouldn't hesitate to learn.

Leah downloaded a music app, laughing at how I had no applications. Before leaving it opened on the playlist. "The Lonely, Ocean-Accompanied, Writer." It read. I reread it a couple times to convince myself it was real. A lovely name, but is that how they see me?

"Chill out, Romeo." Leah giggled. "I can practically see you overthinking everything. Just relax and listen to the songs, maybe they'll tell you something."

I wrapped my arms around her neck, hugging her closely before leaving to listen to the playlist.

~~~

As I shut the door behind me I pressed my back against it. I've never felt so scattered before. I looked for the volume button, turning it up before hitting play.

The songs, quiet but emotional. As though you had just lie down on the grass to cry or relieve tension or reminisce. They felt like a memory I had trouble recalling.

The songs seemed to renew me, before I heard one I distinctly remembered hearing before. From high-school theater club, a time in my life that was fond to me. I do remember Y/N telling me they loved musicals, hearing them hum along to Heathers while I wrote.

A song unlike most others on this list.

"When He Sees Me" from Waitress.

~~~

Y/N's POV

"Oh, Yoba. What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door, And I can't close it?" I belted out the lyrics as loud as I wanted, the tears streaming down my face unwavering.

The good side to owning your own farm is you could scream along to your songs without people to complain. You had been replaying this part of the song for awhile now. He was all you could seem to think about.

Your head was swarmed with thoughts of Elliott. Some where he reciprocated your feelings and others where he shut you out. Every time you built a daydream where he loved you unconditionally you trampled it with the thoughts of his rejection.

You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head between them as you cried.

~~~

Elliott's POV

We had had conversations about musicals, perhaps that's why they chose this song? Maybe they thought since my school had a play of Waitress that it'd fit. But I know they liked other Waitress songs, why weren't those added? Only this one.

After that song came another, "I Hear A Symphony" one I've never heard. As the song started all I could see was Y/N. I could hear them singing along, their smile, their eyes averting to mine for the thousandth time.

Y/N was my symphony.

The powerful, breathtaking ocean couldn't compare to the awkward farmer that ran across town just to give me their best sweet pea flowers and be the first thing I saw as I left my quaint cabin.

They brought the motivation and inspiration for 8 hour writing sessions, they brought me food when they knew I'd forgotten to eat between writing the book and planning on what to write next.

They were something I could never dream of losing. I wished to live the rest of my life with their support.

If telling them my feelings means I'd lose them, then I couldn't dream of making such a selfish decision.

~~~

Y/N's POV

I trudged my way into town. After last night's crying session my eyes still felt a bit dry, if I'm honest I cried when I woke up as well. The loneliness felt suffocating in such a lonely little house. But I needed some new seeds. The stone path drawing all my attention as I walked.

As I walked into Pierre's it wasn't hard to tell that people could see something was off. After buying my seeds I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around to find Elliott.

"Y/N are you feeling alright? You look as though you've been distressed lately." You motion to him to follow you and walks out of the store behind you.

You take a deep breath as you start to tear up a bit more. He reaches for your face as he lifts it up, looking at the pooling tears.

So many things, the things you could have said. But they didn't come up. Instead a vision of his face of discomfort at your confession. You couldn't bear it. You couldn't tell him.

"I've just been stressed. I'm sorry for worrying you, Elliott." You sigh, attempting to put up a fake smile as you wipe your eyes. He retracts his hand as he looks guilty. Fuck does he feel like it's his fault?

"Well I'm willing to listen to your troubles if you ever need." He also puts on a strained smile as you both part ways.

"This is for the best." They both whisper as they leave.

[rehkkuma]

like old times chptr. 3/4 | fugo x reader

PART 5 SPOILERS UNDERNEATH

⇠ Previous chapter

Next chapter ⇢ In progress

words: 1.97k.

disclaimers/tags: fem pronouns, intrusive thoughts based on trauma, angst, language, age gap relationship on fugo's part.

Fugo could recall the night of Bucciarati's betrayal as one of the worst nights of his life. He didn't eat nor sleep. He just laid in bed, cold. Surprisingly, he wasn't sad or angry; he felt nothing.

Not even a week passed and rumours had already gone around about Bucciarati's death. Not just him, but Narancia and Abbacchio as well. Word spread quickly about the traitors within the organization as fast as their deaths. However, there was no talk surrounding Y/n's death— something that Fugo was incredibly relieved about. Maybe he could see her in Venice again— but would she even want to after all he's said?

Maybe Fugo should've joined her. Maybe, just maybe if he did, things would return like old times; his hand clutched in hers, her back against his chest, laying in bed without a single worry in mind.

"Is something the matter?"

Fugo's eyes shot up at the woman sitting across from him, only to disappointedly look down at his dinner plate. For a second, her voice sounded similar to his past lover's. He nearly forgot about the date he agreed to.

"Is the food bad? If it is, you can order anything else." The lady grinned, hand on her chin.

"It's alright. Thank you, though."

Fugo couldn't believe he was doing this. Going from Venice to Naples would be a costly trip. With his near-empty wallet and now-deceased capo, it would be impossible to return home without blowing out every cent in his account. To afford his trip back, he caught an old woman's attention— possibly in her early 40's— to help with his money issues.

"You know..." the lady said, stabbing her fork into a chunk of lettuce. "You're not here just for a free meal. Say something. Entertain me."

Fugo nodded. "You look great today," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

She smiled in satisfaction, taking a bite of the salad on her fork.

Fugo tried to enjoy the expensive appetizer on his plate, but his palate had completely vanished due to the woman across from him. Every word she spat out reminded him of his old professor. He didn't want her, he wanted Y/n. As much as he wanted to leave, he knew this would help him return home.

"When do you think I could go back to Naples, miss?" Fugo asked with a gentle expression on his face.

The lady waved her fork at Fugo. "Hon, we'll talk about that later. Just enjoy the free meal, hm?"

"I understand, but I can't stay in Venice forever."

The lady's face began to shift into anger. "I said later, tesoro."

Fugo closed his eyes and took a breath. 'Tesoro' was something Y/n was only allowed to call him. Hearing those words from anyone else made Fugo want to vomit— especially from this old hag.

"Please don't call me that," he said.

"Huh?" the lady's lip raised. "I'm curious, Pannacotta. Who is the one stuck in Venice? Who is the one paying for your plate? Who is the one desperate for money?"

Fugo put his head down, staring at the white tablecloth. He despised the tone of her voice and the way she was treating him. She clearly thought she had power over him just because of her age and money. Fugo wanted to prove her wrong.

"I'm in a shitty mood, you know." Fugo pushed his chair back and stood up. "My friends are dead and my girlfriend left me. To top it off, I need to see your hideous face just so I can get some cash."

The lady's brows arched, fist clenching on top of the table. "I'll have you know that my husband is part of the mafia, so sit your ass back down on that chair right now or I'll have him blow your head off by tomorrow evening."

Fugo scoffed. "What're you going to tell your husband? You wanted to fuck a 16-year-old?"

Several strangers looked over at the two and watched. Subsequently, a waitress rushed over to the table.

"Is there an issue here?" the waitress asked.

"No, none at all. He's just a bit stressed— maybe a glass of wine will do?" the lady suggested.

"I-I'll be right on my way, ma'am." The waitress nodded and immediately scurried away from the table.

"Are you kidding me?" Fugo spat at the lady. "Wine?"

The lady didn't say a word and continued to eat her salad.

Fugo knew that words wouldn't get through the lady's thick skull. Hastily, he picked up the sharpest fork he could find to pierce her skin. The lady screeched in pain as she stumbled off her chair.

"Jesus Christ," a voice muttered near the table.

"Huh-" Fugo dropped the fork and looked around the restaurant. He heard a voice, one that was too familiar. One that belonged to his old lover.

"Someone, please!" the lady screamed. "Someone call the cops on this child!"

The entire restaurant turned to look at the two. Using this as his opportunity, Fugo looked around the crowd to find Y/n. There were the elderly, young women with their husbands, and several children. None of them were Y/n, until he heard the voice again.

"Fugo? Is that you?"

Fugo turned around to match the voice with the face. There, he saw Y/n. She looked as beautiful as the last time he saw her, just with visible scars this time.

"Why're you still standing there? Let's go!" She took the boy's hand and ran out of the restaurant, pushing through any staff and customers.

Fugo had trouble keeping up with the girl, too lost from the feeling of her soft hands. When she said she wanted to see him in Venice again, this was not what he thought of.

"W-Where are we going?" Fugo stuttered, still running.

"Anywhere where they won't see us!" The girl began to run faster before turning a corner and hiding in a small alleyway. She let go of Fugo's hand and peeked through the side, seeing if anyone followed them. Luckily, none did.

"God, Y/n." Fugo put his hands on his knees and let out heavy breaths. "I didn't want to meet you like this. I'm so sorry. About this, about the boss, about Buccia-"

Y/n took her hand and slapped Fugo's face, slightly leaving a mark on his olive skin. "What the hell were you doing?" she said, voice cracking. "That lady! She looked about 40!"

Fugo wiped his cheek, a guilty look on his eyes. "I was stuck in Venice. Well, I still am, but-" He stopped and bit the inside of his cheek.

"So you hung out with older women? That was your solution?"

"I guess it was."

Y/n put her palm over her eyes, letting out a sigh. "You're so lucky I had a mission in Venice. Jesus, Fugo."

He shamefully looked at the ground. "I'm sorry."

The girl didn't accept his apology, she just looked at him with a disappointed face. "I have a hotel close to here. You can stay with me for now."

Her cold atmosphere stung Fugo. The girl who he believed understood him more than anyone felt so far out of his reach. He knew that her kindness wasn't coming from a place of love but from pity.

"Thank you, Y/n," he said.

No smile, no change in emotion. "Come on, let's go. I'll lead the way," was all she muttered in return.

* * *

The sun was setting; it reminded Fugo of the times he and Y/n would sit on roofs and chat for hours. It gave him a cozy, yet agonizing feeling.

"What exactly are you doing in Venice?" Fugo asked.

"Nothing much. Giorno wants me to get rid of some low-lifers who're spreading harmful rumours."

"Ah, I see."

There was a moment of silence between the two. Fugo tried to avoid the tension by avoiding the girl's gaze, looking over at pedestrians crossing the street instead. Though, Y/n noticed that immediately. If this was in the past, the girl definitely would've teased Fugo about his shyness. Instead, she stayed silent.

By the time they arrived at the hotel, it was dark. After a long day, the two were tired. They could practically go to bed right then and there, but the awkward atmosphere was the only thing holding them back. Though the room was pretty luxurious, it was still a room meant for one person, not two.

"A luxurious hotel like this one shouldn't have rooms so small," Fugo said, a slight chuckle following his words.

"If I expected company, I would've requested a room with two beds... Considering how much room you take up when you sleep."

"Hm?" Fugo interjected. "That's pretty bold coming from you. Would you so kindly remind me who snores like an old man?"

A smile formed on Y/n's face. It was the first time the girl had a genuine moment of happiness since he saw her. Suddenly, Fugo erupted in sadness. Did he still deserve to see her in a happy state? For him to see Y/n happy— just like that— he felt like he didn't earn this privilege.

"Oh, uh-" the girl's smile faded, her face now anxious instead. "You look like you haven't showered in a bit. I can let you borrow some of my clothes while I wash the ones you're wearing right now."

"A-Are you sure? I feel like I'll start owing you a lot of favours then..."

"No, no. It's alright. Here." She tossed a large shirt and shorts that laid on top of the bed. After fumbling a bit, Fugo managed to catch it. He observed the clothes and began to turn red; he'd have to wear Y/n's clothes while also letting her wash his.

"I won't wash your underwear or anything like that. Just your clothes, so don't worry."

Fugo nodded and made his way to the bathroom. As expected, the bathroom was pretty cramped but still gorgeous. He placed Y/n's clothes near the sink and took off the green suit he was wearing. Now bare, he walked into the shower and felt the warm water pleasure his skin.

As he cleaned his body, he felt his mind come to ease; helping him ignore the fact that his ex-lover was just outside the door. The sound of water hitting the shower tiles was loud enough to help clog any intrusive thoughts that dared enter Fugo's mind. But no matter how therapeutic it was, his mind would come crawling back to his betrayal against Bucciarati. He couldn't control his thoughts anymore, all he could imagine was the pure horror his old team would have seen when they found Narancia, Abbacchio, and Bucciarati all dead.

"God," Fugo took a deep breath out. He wanted to cry, he wanted to feel tears roll down his face— but he couldn't. All he felt was anger towards himself. Amidst his internal anger, Fugo remembered Y/n smiling earlier. The girl was still alive and well— at least he could still see her smile.

Suddenly, Fugo felt optimistic. A new opportunity was here, and she was on the other side of the bathroom door. There was no reason to dwell on the past now. He could start a fresh new slate with her. A chance that he thought he'd never have again was only meters away from his grasp, so why not take it?

Fugo quickly grabbed a towel and dried himself off. After changing into Y/n's clothes, he realized what he should do: he'd either redeem himself to the girl or leave the hotel tomorrow morning and never see her again. This time, Fugo was determined to do it right. This was going to be a second chance he was going to mess up.