#did he go through a phase where he felt like he had to 'earn' his keep by doing something while Blitz and Loona were out?

[thats-a-mood-gabriella]

If Sinsmas was the first time Stolas went with Blitz to the office, does that mean he was being left alone at the apartment for a few weeks post-Mastermind? I'm just trying to imagine what he'd get up to alone in that apartment.

[ellecdc]

mother!!!! that recent poly!marauders + lily fic had me WEAK. if you please, could you write a part two where shy!reader finds out remus is a werewolf? I could see rem really not wanting her to find out bc he doesn’t want to scare her, but maybe severus(or somebody) spills the beans thinking she already knew, or she overheard a conversation between the boys. she’d be accepting of course, but remus freaks out when she finds out. just a lot of comfort and reassurance.

hope that gives you some inspiration, also, totally don’t have to write it if you don’t want to, of course!!! ilysm 🖤💚

I took this in a bit of a different direction but the ending's just the same! thanks so much sweets <3 <3

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

4.6k words

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader who learns about Remus' furry little problem

CW: miscommunication trope, insecurities, angst [with a happy ending], reader is feeling incredibly insecure in this fic, James cries, Sirius cries a little bit too but they all pretend not to notice for his sake

You felt terribly foolish; no, you felt worse. You felt absolutely humiliated and you had no one to blame but yourself.

And now that you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

It was a pipedream at best, thinking you had any place amongst the infamous Marauders and the princess of Gryffindor, and it was delusional at worst. 

Of course they’d grow weary of you, of course they’d find your nerves and anxiety tiresome, of course they’d wind up bored of accommodating you when they were all so much more than you. 

What had you been thinking? How did you manage to allow yourself to believe that this was anything but a phase for them - they saw you as a challenge, they beat the challenge, and now they were through with you. 

You thought that the sweet looks, the kisses, the affection, the effort all meant more than it obviously did.

At least to them.

To you, it meant the world.

To them, it was a chore.

You were a chore.

Foolish girl. 

You had been on your way to the library to meet up with the boys and Lily to study for the upcoming Herbology test. It was the first real group ‘date’ after the sketchiness that usually followed Remus about once a month that no one else seemed inclined to comment on, so neither did you.

Except…except, this time, some lingering tension seemed to follow the bout of sketchiness. 

And still, no one seemed particularly inclined to comment on it.

And you couldn’t help but feel like you were out of the loop somehow, but you chalked that up to being a newer addition to the dynamic, and not living with them in Gryffindor tower.

That is until you happened to be walking out of their view behind the stacks of books that their table was situated by when you overheard their conversation. 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem. This is getting out of hand.” You heard Lily say solemnly, earning her a pained groan from Remus’ lips, causing you to pause behind the stacks so as to not interrupt their conversation.

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer?” Remus bargained. “I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“It’s worse, Moons.” Sirius corrected. 

“Y/N’s so sensitive though.” James added. “I mean, how would that conversation even go? How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” Lily stated matter-of-factly. 

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh. “And how do you suggest I go about this?”

“Listen.” Sirius asserted. “I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something. I cannot keep living like this; it’s exhausting.”

Lily made a tsking sound and placed a consoling hand on Sirius’ shoulder as Remus let out another sigh.

“I know, I know; I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

Lily, Sirius, and James all made a hum of acknowledgement.

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.” Lily said.

You felt your stomach migrate to your throat as you turned on your heels and fled the library.

Is that what all the tension was about? Is that what this library study date was? Just a ruse to sit you down so they could break up with you?

Of course it was, idiot. You scolded yourself.  They were foolish to entertain the likes of you for any amount of time. 

So now you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - and you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

“Do you think I should do it tonight?” Remus asked Lily as she finally sat down. 

“I think it would be best if we did, sweetheart. I just can’t help feeling like we’re keeping her at arms length by keeping it a secret, you know?”

“I agree.” Sirius said quickly. “It feels like she’s more of a guest than actually part of the relationship whilst we’re keeping something so big from her.” 

“I just don’t want her to hate me.” Remus admitted in a whisper.

“Remmy.” James cooed from the other side of Sirius. “Our sweet little Puffle seems completely incapable of hatred. But you know we’ve got your back 110% if she’s not accepting of you, right?”

The other two nodded in agreement but Remus only grimaced. “It just feels like I’d be ruining the relationship for all of you if the only person she has a problem with is me.” 

“Impossible.” Sirius replied emphatically. “Anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with us, Moons.”

“Even if we weren’t dating, Rem, if someone didn’t respect my friend - or anyone, for that matter - because of their lycanthropy, I wouldn’t want them around anyways.” Lily agreed.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem, though.” Sirius continued. “Like Prongs said, she’s our sweet girl; I’m sure she’ll handle this fine.”

“Where is she, anyway?” James said, flipping his wrist to check his watch. “She was supposed to meet us like twenty minutes ago.” 

The other three shared a look of bemusement. 

“Do you have the map?” Sirius asked.

James quickly pulled the map from his book bag to scan the parchment for your name. “It says she’s in the Hufflepuff common room?”

“Maybe she forgot?” Lily mused.

“I spoke to her at dinner; she said she was going to change out of her uniform and then meet us here.” Remus replied, feeling his heart rise to his throat with nerves. 

What if she knew? What if she already found out? What if she hated him? 

“Rem, it’s alright.” Lily placated, clearly seeing his concern etched onto his face. “Maybe she wasn’t feeling well, or got caught up with something else.”

“She’s never bailed on us before…” James admitted, looking just as worried as Remus was. “Maybe we should check on her?”

“Why don’t we give her tonight; I think after all the shite we put her through this week, she’s allotted one missed date.” Sirius decided, opting to keep his tone light as he teased Remus for his ‘pre-moon angstiness’ as his partners call it.   

“We’ll catch up with her tomorrow.” Lily decided; and Remus and James shared a look of concern as they relented to study for the upcoming Herbology test without you. 

You weren’t really mad at the Gryffindor’s for their decision to end things with you; at least not at first.

People were allowed to change their minds, and you supposed that was the purpose of dating, right? To see if the person you’re interested in is someone you want to keep around indefinitely?

So, people were allowed to change their mind, and that was okay.

You also couldn’t particularly blame them; you were shy, quiet, timid, awkward in most social settings and certainly not as adventurous as them, it was only a matter of time before they grew bored of you. 

So you hadn’t been mad at them, not at first. 

But you were growing increasingly annoyed at their attempts to force themselves within your space. 

You had opted to sit at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast the next morning; there was no sense sitting at the Gryffindor table with them anymore.

But then you couldn’t handle the feeling of your heart splintering every time you heard Sirius’ bark of laughter or Lily’s giggle at something Remus said or that James did. So you quickly scarfed down your toast and grabbed a muffin to shove in your bag before fleeing from the Great Hall.

What you didn’t notice was James noticing you only as you were leaving, looking incredibly worried.

You nearly shrieked when you exited your Astronomy class that you had with the Ravenclaws and slammed into Sirius’ frame.

“There you are, dolly! We missed you this morning!” He proclaimed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You quickly collected yourself; heart racing from the scare and then quickly migrating to your throat out of embarrassment and hurt at this familiarity you had with him only to be about to lose it.

“Sorry, I had been running late.” You said quickly as you headed for the stairs; the long-haired boy quickly keeping up with your steps. 

“Were you feeling alright?” He asked you.

“How do you mean?”

Sirius tilted his head slightly as he considered you. “Well, you didn’t show up to the library last night, and then you were running late this morning; that’s not like you.”

A hot frustrated emotion burned in your chest that you weren’t completely accustomed to feeling. 

Wasn’t he the one to say he couldn’t live like this anymore?

It wasn’t fair of you to be frustrated though, which frustrated you even more; he didn’t know that you had shown up to the library last night, nor that you had gotten to the Great Hall on time.

They hadn’t even noticed you this morning. 

And that’s why they were ending things; you were forgettable, ignorable, unnoticeable. 

“I’m fine, Sirius. Thank you.” You said simply, and quickly headed for the girl’s loo in order to shake him off. 

Remus had approached you in Care of Magical Creatures as well, which somehow hurt more.

Perhaps it was because you knew he was going to be the one to tell you that things were over; though you had thought he’d be better than to break up with you in the middle of class. 

“Hey, dove.” He said as he gently nudged your arm with his elbow; watching as you groomed the puffskein on your table. 

“Hey, Remus.” You said quietly, not removing your eyes from the Beast you were working with.

“I missed you last night.” He admitted quietly. 

Did you? You thought petulantly. 

“Sorry.” You murmured instead. 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He said as he leaned his elbows on your workbench; if it had been any other student, you’re certain Professor O’Brien would have scolded him for not handling the beasts with adequate caution, but Remus seemed to be allowed certain privileges and the puffskein “Kujo” didn’t seem to mind him much. “I just missed you is all.” 

And he was smiling that sweet, soft smile at you and he seemed like he actually meant it which only further contributed to your ire. 

What happened to ripping the bandaid off? Why keep up this affectionate act if it was only going to end?

Remus looked like he was going to say something when the Professor announced the end of class. 

“I’ll catch up with you later.” You offered quickly before you all but threw Kujo back into his pen and took off towards the castle.

The final straw had to be Herbology, though.

You shared Herbology with the Gryffindors, and because you were a new addition - your the four Gryffindor’s all shared a potting bench whilst you worked alongside another Hufflepuff.

Today, however, it appeared that James had other plans.

Before Sadie-Jane could take her seat beside you, James had plopped himself - rather carefully for the notoriously boisterous quidditch chaser, mind you - on the stool beside you.

“Hey, angel.”

Again, with the pet names. 

It felt torturous at this point; part of you wanted to rip the bandaid off yourself.

But you looked over at the sweet, warm, inviting face of James Potter and any resolve to tell him to shove it completely dissipated. He was all messy curls, round frames, and warm eyes.

And you might have been [must have been] mistaken, but you felt you could see anxiety and worry painted in his features.

You supposed breaking up with someone could do that to a person, though.

“Hi Jamie.” You whispered back as you opted to ready your supplies for today’s lesson.

“I was wondering if you were going to come to the game tonight?” He blurted then, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst. 

Right…the game. The game against Slytherin. The game that would have you sitting between Remus and Lily as they cheered for James and Sirius. That game. 

“I...uhm, well…”

Rip the bandaid off. 

But it was James. 

And you were in class.

And you could see Lily and Remus trying - and failing - to not look like they were watching you and James whilst Sirius had no such qualms and was actively staring at the two of you. 

“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll see.” You offered James, mustering up what you hoped was a convincing enough smile.

You could tell by the divot that appeared in James’ brows that you were not convincing in the slightest.

Thankfully Professor Sprout appeared then, instructing everyone to take their seats for class to begin, and Sadie-Jane came to claim her seat from the Gryffindor. 

You didn’t go to the game that night.

Gryffindor lost. 

And though you didn’t know at the time, James cried, but it wasn’t about losing to Slytherin. 

“So, why are you hiding in the dorms?” Caroline asked as she rolled away from her open magazine on her bed, clearly preferring potential drama you could offer her than whatever was in this week's Witch Weekly. 

“I’m not hiding.” You muttered back, not looking up from your cross-stitch you were working on instead of, you know, dealing with your problems. 

“Right.” Caroline agreed, not sounding like she agreed with you at all. “That’s why you’ve started and quit several hobbies over the weekend and have been going to the kitchen’s to grab food instead of eating in the Great Hall like a normal person.”

You looked over at your half finished gem ‘paint-by-numbers’, the scarf you’d crocheted that looked more like the skin of a messed up snake that had a terrible time shedding, and the guitar you had borrowed from Fenwick and nearly broke in a fit of rage when you couldn’t get it to sound the way you wanted it too.

“I just…can’t face them right now.” You admitted dejectedly.

“I don’t blame you. Helga, have you seen the lot of them? If I’d known they were accepting more I would have made my shot.” She mused as she laid back on her bed.

Grief and jealousy intertwined within you as you thought about them dating anyone else but you.

But you supposed that was their prerogative; they were allowed to change their minds. 

“Yeah well, you may still have a chance.” You muttered, capturing Caroline’s attention.

“What?” She asked quickly, but you didn’t have a chance to answer before there was a knock on the door. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” She asked with a salacious wink, causing you to glare at her.

“If it’s them, I’m not here; please.” You practically begged your roommate as she rolled her eyes and moved to the door to your dorm room. 

“Oh, hello Evans.” Caroline greeted, causing you to scrunch your eyes closed from your place currently hidden from view of the door. 

“Hi! Erm, is Y/N around?” Lily asked, sounding uncharacteristically awkward.

“Uh…no, she’s not in right now. I can let her know you stopped by, though?” Caroline offered.

You heard Lily thank her before Caroline closed the door again. 

“You sure you don’t want them? ‘Cause those Gryffindor’s are fine.” She sighed as she returned to her bed.

She let out a squawk when your pillow made contact with her head. 

Lily stepped out through the barrel to find Sirius and Remus exactly where she had left them (albeit far more tense) as James came running from down the hall where he had been pacing nervously. 

“Well?” James asked.

Lily pursed her lips. “Her roommate said she wasn’t there.”

Remus looked down at the map to the place where your name was etched beside your roommate’s in the seventh year Hufflepuff girls’ dormitory. 

Either the map was faulty [fat chance], or you were avoiding them.

It was official. 

For whatever reason, they were losing you. 

You had somehow managed to avoid the Gryffindor’s all Monday; taking a moment to thank every deity that you only had Divination with the Gryffindor house, and none of your Gryffindor’s had opted to take it.

You wondered if you could call them your Gryffindor’s anymore…

You had run over to the kitchens - all but a hop skip and a jump from your common room - to grab dinner and were stepping back out through the portrait of the pears when you came face to face with Sirius.

“So nice to see you, Y/N; I’d almost forgotten what your face looked like.” He said; his tone taking on a harsh tone you weren’t accustomed to hearing directed at you causing you to wince.

“Pads…” Remus warned from behind him, though he was looking at you just as warily as Sirius was.

As was James and Lily.

Shit. 

“I’m glad to see you’re still eating…” Remus commented dejectedly as he nodded towards your smorgasbord of a plate that Winky had helped prepare for you that now looked horribly unappetising. 

“I…yes. Erm, what are you guys doing here?” You tried.

It had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say.

Sirius let out a derisive scoff. “Cut the bullshit, Y/N. What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Sirius.” Lily warned.

“Would you guys stop?” He barked back at them before returning his burning gaze back to you. “I’m tired of this; of running around the school looking for you, of being disappointed every time you bail on us, of having to hold James whilst he cries because you’ve let him down, of being lied to. So I’m going to ask again - what the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me…” You tried to argue, though it sounded feeble even to your own ears. 

James had cried? You made James cry…

The disappointment in Remus’ eyes, the concern in Lily’s, the anger in Sirius’, the sadness in James’... it was too much, too much, too much. 

“You’re going to stand there and lie to my sodding face?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Sirius, stop it.” James ordered; his voice far more severe than you have ever heard from him. “Angel, please. Just…just tell us what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

Any sadness that had settled in your chest bubbled into anger at his word choice.

“Fix this?” You repeated back to him. “Why? Why bother fixing anything if you’re all just going to leave me!?” 

The four Gryffindor’s stood staring at you with different levels of bemusement; Lily and Sirius at your words, Remus and James at you having raised your voice for the first time…well…ever. 

“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” Lily asked cautiously, causing you to scoff. 

“I heard you guys - in the library.”

“In the library? But…you never showed?” James asked.

“Yes, I did - and I heard you guys talking about me, so I decided to stay out of your way thinking that maybe I’d make it easier on you all. But then you’ve spent the past week absolutely torturing me; showing up at my classes, trying to sit beside me, showing up to my dorm room like you weren’t just biding your time.”

“Y/N, what exactly did you hear us say in the library?” Remus queried.

“That you couldn’t do this anymore! That someone ‘had to tell me’ because it was ‘getting out of hand’. That you couldn’t possibly live like this anymore and hopefully I’d just understand. And I do! I do understand; but what I don’t understand is what the point of chasing me around the bloody castle is if you-”

“Whoa, whoa. Okay, alright just breathe, darling, I’m sorry.” Lily attempted to placate, holding her hands up as she approached like you were some kind of feral cat.

You sort of acted like one when you swatted her hands away from you.

“No! No, it’s not fair! I’m sorry if I’m too much, or if I’m not enough; I get it, okay? I do; sometimes it doesn’t work out and that’s fair but if that’s how you feel then just leave me alone!” You shouted back, feeling the tears trailing down your neck at this point. 

“Y/N, please, listen okay? Just relax and we can talk this out.” Lily tried again as James let out a pained breath that sounded awfully close to a sob. 

“Remus, please.” He begged, turning his pooling hazel eyes to his scarred boyfriend who was looking at you in abject horror. “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ve misunderstood, dove. I-I’m sorry, It’s my fault, but what you heard…that wasn’t us talking about breaking up with you. I… It was about me.”

You wiped angrily at your face and set your now cold plate on the ground - you weren’t hungry anymore anyways. “It’s not you, it’s me?” You sneered half-heartedly.

“No, no…Merlin, Y/N I- I’m a werewolf. Okay? I have lycanthropy, I was bitten when I was four; that’s where I go once a month and why I get…weird. We were talking about the fact that I needed to tell you because it was hurting us to keep it from you. Dovey, I’m so sorry you’ve been so upset. Please, please take a breath for me.” 

You held your hands over your eyes as you tried to control your breathing.

Sketchiness…tension…disappearances… 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem; this is getting out of hand”

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer? I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“Y/N’s so sensitive though… How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” 

“I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something; I cannot keep living like this, it’s exhausting.”

“I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.”

“I’m a werewolf. I have lycanthropy…that’s where I go once a month.” 

“Please…baby, please say something. I-I’m so sorry.” You heard Sirius plead quietly; his shaky voice in stark contrast from the way he’d been barking at you just moments before. 

You pulled your wet hands away from your eyes to see all four of them looking at you with nothing but worry and heartache on their faces; though none looked quite as vulnerable as Remus did. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered.

You sucked in a shuddering breath as more tears fell. “So…you don’t hate me?”

Remus let out a disbelieving laugh when you heard what sounded suspiciously like a sob from James.

“No! No, no dove, that- I’m rather quite in love with you, you know?” He pressed, daring to step closer to you. “Do you hate me?” He asked then, tone turning vulnerable once more.

“No.” You whined emphatically. 

“Oh my poor girl.” Sirius whined sympathetically. 

“Can I hug you? Please?” James all but begged, stepping in front of you with his arms open already; poised for you to say…

“Yes.”

You’re not sure he even waited for the affirmation to leave your lips before he had you encased in his arms.

You shoved your face into his chest and fisted his shirt in your hands; pulling him as close as you possibly could to your person. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there - directly in front of the kitchens and awfully close to your own common room - sniffling into James’ shirt as he sniffled into your hair, but you heard a sniffle come from beside you.

You turned to see Sirius’ grey eyes shiny and red as he looked at you imploringly. 

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you, sweetness. I’m such an arse I just…I-”

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“No it’s not.” Sirius argued immediately. “I…I get like that sometimes; just horribly defensive and then I go on the offensive first. I didn’t even give you a chance to talk to us before I was attacking you; I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Siri.” You offered again, holding a hand out to him which he took readily. 

“I can’t believe you’ve spent this whole week believing we wanted nothing to do with you.” Lily whined from your other side. “I’m so sorry we left you feeling like that, darling girl.”

Though you were quite content in your muscled hideaway, you pulled away from James’ chest to wipe at your face again, feeling awfully self-conscious of how blotchy your face must look from your tears.

“I shouldn’t have assumed.” You admitted shamefully; voice scratchy from both the shouting and the crying.

“The way you described it, I can understand how our conversation sounded to you, babygirl.” Sirius contended. 

“So…you’re really not leaving me?” You asked again.

“I feel like I should be asking you that, dove.” Remus replied.

“Why would I be leaving you?”

Lily shared a knowing look with Sirius and James who in turn moved their gazes to Remus with expressions reading “see?”. 

“Not everyone would be accepting of a werewolf.”

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you looked at the others as if saying “are you hearing this right now?” 

“But…I love you? I…I don’t even know what else to say…I just… love you so, that’s fine.”

“I just love you so that’s fine.” Sirius repeated as he looked at Remus arrogantly. “I knew I should have placed a bet on how she’d respond; I’d have made five galleons!”

“We were not going to bet on how our girlfriend would respond to Remus’ furry little problem, Sirius.” Lily chided as she playfully swatted at his shoulder. 

“Besides,” James added, pulling you closer into his side again. “You would have lost because I don’t think any of us would have bet that she’d misinterpret our disastrous conversation as us trying to leave her and then spend the week believing we were waiting for the perfect time to break up with her only for us all to shout and cry when we realised what happened.”

“No, that's true.” Sirius agreed readily, looking back at you with sympathy. “I really am sorry, baby.”

“Me too.” Lily continued.

“Me most of all.” Remus added.

“I knew we should have gone looking for her that night.” James mused aloud mostly to himself. “Could have saved us all a lot of heartache.” 

“Yeah, yeah Prongs. You’re right again; I’m sure we’ll never live it down.” Sirius said with a playful eye roll. 

“How can we make it up to you?” Lily asked as she placed her hand at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and traced shapes along the column of your neck with her thumb.

You shook your head shyly and looked at your feet. “It’s not necessary guys.”

“Nonsense.” Sirius scoffed.

“Let’s start with some dinner, yeah? And maybe a cwtch in the boys’ dorm upstairs?” Remus offered to the group, though he seemed to be waiting for you to answer.

You nodded at him and he opened his arms in invitation which you accepted readily.

“I’m sorry, dovey.” He whispered into your hair.

“I’m sorry too, Rem.”

“Let’s never fight again.” James decided enthusiastically as Lily and Sirius stepped through the pear portrait into the kitchens.

“Sounds good to me, bubs.” Remus agreed as he bent down to press a kiss to James’ lips whilst keeping you secured to his side.

You were sure that after this week, these four wouldn’t be letting you out of their reach.

After this week, you weren’t sure you minded that at all.

[halfmoonaria]

her own undoing

pairing: cairo sweet & female reader

summary: for the first time, one of cairo's actions doesn't go as planned; backfires and leaves her to face the consequences.

word count: 8.0k

author’s note: tell me if smth is confusing

You and Cairo had been inseparable for as long as you could remember.

The kind of friendship where one person's name always followed the other, like an inevitable pairing.

Cairo and you. You and Cairo. It was a constant, a certainty, even when everything else felt like it was shifting.

You'd been there through it all: the days when Cairo's sharp wit earned her more enemies than friends, the times her wild schemes left you both in trouble, and the moments when she leaned too far into chaos, dragging you along for the ride.

People called her trouble, said she was too much, too intense, too unpredictable.

But where they saw a storm, you'd always seen something else—an unrelenting force of nature, sure, but also someone who could light up a room when she wasn't burning it down.

It wasn't always easy, being her best friend. Cairo had a way of taking up all the space in the room, leaving little for anyone else. But you didn't mind—not really. You liked the way her presence made everything feel bigger, brighter, more alive. And when her edges got too sharp, cutting into anyone who dared get too close, you stayed. You always stayed.

That loyalty had been tested before, but never like this.

Lately, Cairo had been different.

Sharper, somehow. Restless in a way that felt dangerous, even for her. It started with the way she spoke about Mr. Miller, the high school English teacher who barely acknowledged Cairo's sharp intellect and sharper tongue. She claimed he was condescending, always brushing her off when she tried to speak up in class. But there was something else behind the way she lingered on his name—something more personal.

When she finally told you her plan, it felt like the ground had shifted beneath you.

She was going to seduce him. That was her big idea. She'd said it with that confident smirk of hers, like it was all a joke, daring you to challenge her.

She claimed it was for her college admissions essay, said she had nothing interesting to write about and needed something that would "stand out." But you knew better. Cairo wasn't interested in crafting the perfect essay. No, she was still hung up on the fact that she was a virgin.

You'd tried to talk her out of it, to reason with her, but Cairo wasn't someone you could reason with once her mind was made up. And when her plan backfired—when Mr. Miller brushed her off and scolded her for being inappropriate—it sent her into a spiral.

Cairo never got scolded. Never got told no.

Her parents were always gone, too preoccupied with their own lives to bother enforcing rules or boundaries. So when Mr. Miller did what no one else ever dared to do, she couldn't take it. It wasn't just rejection. It was humiliation. And Cairo wasn't built to handle that.

The bitterness festered, twisting her anger into something sharper, uglier. She started talking about him like he was an enemy, plotting ways to "teach him a lesson" or "knock him off his pedestal."

At first, you'd tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just another one of her phases. But tonight, as you stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching her scribble furiously on a crumpled piece of paper, you realized this was different.

Cairo thought her plan was flawless.

Perfect, even. She'd spent hours rehearsing every angle, every word, until she could see it unfolding as clearly as a scene in one of those old noir films she loved.

Her testimony would be bold, damning, unforgettable. She'd finally show everyone—him—what happened when someone underestimated her. The satisfaction of it burned low in her chest, warm and steady, as if victory were already hers.

She sat on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, her pen moving across the page in sharp, deliberate strokes. The smoke from her cigarette curled lazily above her head, the faint scent of tobacco mixing with her perfume.

Satisfaction flickered across her face, subtle but unmistakable, as though she'd already won a game nobody was even playing.

The room was quiet except for the scratch of her pen, a rhythm she found oddly soothing amidst her growing anger.

The sound of your voice broke through the stillness like a slap.

"Cairo, what are you doing?"

Cairo's pen stilled mid-word. For a moment, she didn't move, her hand hovering above the page as she weighed her options.

Pretend not to hear you? Act like nothing was out of the ordinary? The anger in your tone suggested neither would work, and something sour twisted in her stomach. Slowly, she placed the pen down, flicking ash from her cigarette with a casualness she didn't feel.

"I'm completing my admissions essay," she said, her voice smooth and detached, rehearsed to sound nonchalant.

Her words were clipped, her tone dismissive, as if your presence were a minor inconvenience—just another interruption in her meticulously crafted plan. But even as she spoke, Cairo could feel the fragile edges of her control fraying.

Then she heard it: your footsteps.

Each step closer made her chest tighten, a quiet panic rising beneath her practiced exterior. She focused on the cigarette between her fingers, watching the smoke curl upward in lazy tendrils, as though ignoring the tension in the room might make it disappear.

You stepped further into the room, your movements deliberate, each step purposeful and calculated. Your gaze swept over the bed—the scattered papers, the chaotic but purposeful arrangement of her notes. Everything about it felt off, and your expression told Cairo that you knew it.

"Cairo, don't bullshit me."

The directness of your words made her freeze, the cigarette trembling slightly between her fingers. You'd never spoken to her like that before, not with that sharpness. It threw her off balance in a way she wasn't used to.

You were the constant. The one who stayed when everyone else called her too much, too strange. The one who always agreed, who always supported her.

The one who wasn't supposed to look at her like that.

"What's going on?"

She fought to keep her expression neutral, forcing a smirk that felt far less convincing than usual. "What's it look like?"

It was a weak defense, and she knew it. So did you.

Your jaw tightened, and there was something in your eyes she couldn't quite place—concern, maybe, but also something sharper, like betrayal. You stepped closer, and Cairo's heart began to race—not with fear, but frustration.

Why couldn't you just let it go? Why did you have to question her, of all people?

"It looks like you're planning something," you said, your tone measured but edged with something bitter. Your gaze moved over the bed again, taking in the crumpled pages, the sharp handwriting, the chaos she'd created in pursuit of perfection.

"Something that's going to blow up in your face."

The accusation stung, sharper than she expected. For a split second, her smirk faltered, the confidence she wore like armor slipping just enough to reveal the unease beneath it.

She quickly forced it back into place. "I'm testifying against him," she said, the words deliberate, carefully chosen, like she was reciting lines from a script.

But your reaction shattered her attempt at calm.

The flicker of disbelief in your expression sparked a strange, hollow satisfaction in her chest. Let you be shocked. Let you struggle to process it. Maybe then you'd understand.

"Testifying?"

She nodded, the motion sharp and deliberate, as though solidifying her decision. Standing, she began to pace, her thoughts spiraling in tandem with each step. Her movements were restless, her anger—a low, simmering thing—flared brighter when she caught the way your concern clouded your face.

"In front of the school board," she clarified, her tone detached, as if she weren't actively dismantling someone's life. She flicked ash from her cigarette, her gestures deliberately careless.

You blinked, the weight of her words settling in as you tried to reconcile what you were hearing with the person you thought you knew. "Are you serious?" you asked, your voice softening, though tension still underpinned your words. "Do you know what that'll do to him?"

There it was—your care, your empathy, spilling out in the way it always did. Cairo's chest tightened, her stomach twisting with a volatile mix of resentment and shame. She didn't need you to care about him. She needed you to see her. To understand why this mattered.

"He underestimated me," she said, her voice dropping lower, her pacing slowing. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the floor, her fingers curling tighter around the cigarette. "I overestimated him."

Your silence hit her harder than she expected, the weight of it unbearable. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, the way your lips pressed into a thin line, your arms crossed, your expression unreadable.

The disappointment lingering in your eyes was louder than anything you could've said, and it cut deeper than she wanted to admit.

"So, what?" you said finally, your voice firmer now. "This is revenge? Because he didn't fall for your game?"

The words landed like a blow, a direct hit to a nerve she hadn't realized was exposed. Her smirk tightened into a thin, rigid line, and her hand trembled slightly as she stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on her desk.

"It's justice," she said, forcing the word out, as if saying it enough times could make it true.

"Justice?" Your disbelief carried a sharper edge now, and you took a step closer, your voice rising with frustration. "Cairo, this isn't some movie. You're playing with someone's life."

Her nails dug into her palm as your words sank in. Flames of anger licked at her chest, fueled by a suffocating mix of guilt and defiance. You were supposed to understand. You were supposed to agree, like you always had.

That was your role. That was what made everything work.

"You don't get it," she said, her tone softening, though it was laced with something almost pitying. "You never have."

"No," you shot back, your voice steady and unwavering. "I don't. Because this isn't you. At least, I didn't think it was."

The remark sliced through her defenses, sharp and unrelenting, leaving her raw in a way she hadn't felt in years. For a long moment, she could only stare at you, her heart pounding against her ribs. Anger swirled with shame, tangling into something unrecognizable, and for the first time, she felt the edges of control slipping from her grasp.

"You've always had such a sweet way of looking at the world," she said finally, her voice turning mocking to hide the crack in it. "It must be exhausting."

"And you've always been too proud to admit when you're wrong," you countered, your tone colder now, the words landing with precision. "But this? This is cruel, Cairo. Even for you."

Her mask cracked at that, the smirk falling away as the anger simmering beneath the surface began to boil over. But she refused to let it show. Instead, she turned her back on you, pacing toward the bed as her fists clenched at her sides.

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think," she said, her voice colder now, mechanical in its delivery.

But the weight of her own words hit her almost immediately, settling heavily in her chest, suffocating her in a way she couldn't escape. The truth was, you knew her better than anyone. You always had. And that was the part that scared her the most.

Cairo's jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. She could feel the heat rising in her chest, burning hotter with every second that passed. You weren't supposed to talk to her like this. Not you. Everyone else could think she was too much, could roll their eyes and call her dramatic, but not you.

You were supposed to get it. To get her. That had always been the unspoken rule between you. You didn't argue with her schemes, didn't question her decisions—no matter how reckless or wild they seemed. You were the steady one, the loyal one, the one who always stuck by her side when no one else would.

She'd always relied on that. Counted on it, even. But now, standing in her room with your arms crossed and that look on your face—the one that said you thought she was wrong—it felt like the ground was shifting under her feet.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked, your voice quieter now but still firm, still pushing.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. The words themselves weren't what set her off; it was the tone. Like you thought you knew better. Like you thought she was being ridiculous.

"You don't understand," Cairo snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. She turned away from you, pacing to the other side of the room as if putting distance between you would help her think.

The truth was, she didn't know how to explain it. She'd never had to before—not to you. You'd always just gone along with whatever she said, even when it didn't make sense. It was part of why she needed you, part of why she'd kept you so close all these years.

But now, you were standing there with that stubborn look on your face, and it was like every time someone had told her "no" or "you can't" was flooding back all at once.

Like when her parents had laughed off her dreams of going to college out of state, saying she'd never survive without them. Or when that teacher in middle school had told her she'd amount to nothing if she didn't learn to sit still and follow the rules.

But this was worse. Because it was you.

"You're supposed to have my back," she said finally, her voice lower now but no less angry. She turned to face you, her eyes blazing. "That's what you've always done."

You didn't flinch, didn't even blink. "Not if it means watching you ruin someone's life," you said, your tone calm but unwavering.

Cairo felt something snap. Her vision blurred at the edges, her thoughts coming so fast she couldn't hold onto any of them.

"Why do you care so much about him?" she almost shouted, her voice breaking slightly. She hated the way it sounded, raw and desperate, but she couldn't stop herself. "He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anyone!"

"And that's supposed to make this okay?" you shot back, your own voice rising now. "Because he didn't care for your attempt of seduction, it's fine to ruin him? That's not justice, Cairo—that's you being a bully."

The word hit her like a slap. A bully. She'd been called a lot of things in her life—manipulative, selfish, too intense—but bully wasn't one of them. She stared at you, her chest heaving, her nails biting into her palms so hard she thought they might break the skin.

For a moment, she didn't say anything. She couldn't.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her face a storm of emotions she couldn't contain.

She wanted to scream, to drag you into her world and force you to see things her way; like you always had. But all you did was stand there, your arms crossed, your expression hard and unrelenting.

The silence stretched too long, filled with the sharp scent of cigarette smoke and the suffocating weight of her frustration. She could feel her fury boiling over, pushing against the edges of her control.

"I can't believe you're acting like this," she said finally, her voice trembling, half with rage and half with disbelief. "After everything I've done for you."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Everything you've done for me?" The disbelief in your voice cut deep, sharper than she expected. "You mean dragging me into your messes? Covering for you every time you screw something up? Cairo, that's not loyalty—that's enabling."

Her face twisted, a mix of anger and something dangerously close to hurt. "You're seriously turning this on me?"

You shook your head, stepping back toward the door. "I'm not turning anything on you. I'm just—" You stopped, exhaling sharply, like you didn't know how to say what you needed to. "I'm just done with this, Cairo. You don't care about anyone but yourself."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She'd heard them before, from teachers, from her parents, from so-called friends who didn't stick around. But hearing them from you? It felt like the world was tilting off its axis.

She watched as you reached for the doorknob, her stomach twisting into knots. "So that's it?" she said, her voice low, deadly. "You're just going to walk away?"

You hesitated, your hand resting on the knob, but you didn't turn back. "Yeah," you said finally. "I am."

The door clicked shut behind you, and the sound echoed in the vast emptiness of the room. Cairo stood there, frozen, staring at the space you'd just occupied. For a moment, she felt nothing at all, just the numbness that came with realizing she was truly, utterly alone.

The mansion around her seemed to close in, its dark corners and cold walls pressing against her like a physical weight. No parents. No friends. No one but herself and the stale, ever-present scent of cigarette smoke.

And that was when it hit her—the rage.

Her hand slammed against the edge of the desk, sending a stack of papers tumbling to the floor. You were supposed to get her. You were supposed to agree. That was how this worked. You were the one who told her it was all fine, the one who stood by her side no matter how crazy things got.

But you didn't. You didn't tell her it was a great idea. You didn't tell her she was right. And that betrayal—it burned hotter than anything she'd felt before.

If she couldn't ruin Mr. Miller, she'd ruin you instead.

The thought was so clear, so sharp, it was like a switch flipped in her brain. You thought you could walk away from her, leave her to stew in this? Fine. But she wasn't going to let you come out of this unscathed.

Cairo knelt down, her hands shaking as she gathered the scattered papers from the floor. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as if each page she picked up solidified her resolve. By the time she stood, the fire in her chest had consumed every shred of doubt.

You would regret this. She would make sure of it.

___

It wouldn't be hard. Cairo knew that much.

In a school like yours—like hers—people believed anything as long as it was juicy enough to distract from their own boring lives. A small-town high school in the middle of nowhere, Tennessee, didn't offer much in the way of excitement. So when there was even the faintest whiff of scandal, people ran with it.

She thought of how last year, someone started a rumor that Sarah Bishop was pregnant. By third period, half the school had already decided the father was her ex-boyfriend, and by lunch, they'd pinned it on a senior she'd never even spoken to. The truth didn't matter. Sarah's denial didn't matter. The story was too good to let go of, and Cairo had watched, half-amused, as it unraveled Sarah's life for weeks.

Or the time someone claimed Mr. Thompson had been fired for sleeping with a student. He hadn't even been fired—just transferred to another district—but that didn't stop the whispers, the snickering in the hallways. It didn't stop people from glancing at random students, wondering who the lucky—or unlucky—one was.

People were starving for something to talk about. It didn't even have to be plausible. It just had to stick. And if there was one thing Cairo Sweet was good at, it was making things stick.

Her mind whirled with possibilities, her anger sharpening every detail into focus. The pieces were already there, waiting for her to assemble them into the perfect story. The kind that wouldn't just ruin your reputation but would linger, infecting every interaction you had at that school.

Cairo sat back on the edge of her bed, the cigarette still clutched in her fingers, her lips curving into a slow, bitter smile. She'd light the match and watch it burn.

And you? You'd have no idea what hit you.

So the next morning, Cairo walked to school with purpose, the cold air biting at her cheeks as her plan solidified in her mind.

She hadn't slept, her thoughts running wild, feeding on her anger until it consumed her entirely. By the time she reached the gates, her smile was sharp and satisfied, her rage buried deep beneath the cool detachment she wore like armor.

Winnie was waiting near the courtyard, leaning against a bench and scrolling through her phone. Cairo approached her casually, though the fire in her chest burned hotter with every step. Winnie wasn't just any friend—she was the one with the loudest mouth, the one who lived for drama, thrived on it. If anyone could spread a rumor faster than wildfire, it was her.

It hadn't taken much for Cairo to spin the story, just enough details to make it believable but tantalizing enough to keep people guessing. She'd started with a nonchalant mention of Mr. Miller's sudden absence, dropping hints that she'd heard "something big." Winnie's interest was immediate, her phone slipping into her pocket as she turned her full attention to Cairo.

And then Cairo had delivered the blow, the rumor she'd carefully constructed in the sleepless hours of the night. You and Mr. Miller. A secret relationship. A scandal so twisted it explained everything—why he wasn't at school anymore, why he'd been fired.

She'd painted the picture vividly, her words dripping with calculated disgust: the late meetings, the whispers behind closed doors, the final confrontation that led to his downfall.

Cairo had been deliberate, choosing every word to strike at the heart of what would horrify and captivate the school's gossipy, bored population. Sleeping with a teacher wasn't just scandalous—it was unforgivable. And it fit perfectly into the narrative she wanted to create. It was your fault he was gone. You'd ruined him. You'd dragged everyone into your mess.

Winnie's eyes had widened, her hand flying to her mouth in shock before she'd quickly recovered, leaning closer to hear more. Cairo had fed her just enough to make it irresistible, dropping hints about where you'd supposedly met him and how it had all unraveled.

The beauty of it was that it didn't need to be true. It only needed to sound like it could be.

By the time Cairo walked away, she didn't even have to look back to know the wheels were already in motion. Winnie would tell someone else, who would tell someone else, and by lunch, the whole school would be buzzing with whispers and sideways glances.

It was the perfect plan, Cairo thought, her hands buried deep in her coat pockets as she made her way to class. A masterpiece of manipulation, tailored to destroy you in the same way you'd tried to dismantle her.

She didn't need to say another word. The damage was already done.

She didn't feel doubt either. Normal people might've cringed or hesitated when they heard whispers echoing through the halls—heard your name paired with Mr. Miller's in hushed, scandalized tones.

Normal people might've felt a pang of guilt at the sight of you walking into school, oblivious to the tidal wave of rumors about to crash over you. But Cairo wasn't normal. She never had been, and she knew it.

Her parents used to tell her as much, back when they still tried to parent her. "You've always been different, Cairo," her mother would say, her voice careful, measured, like she was trying not to provoke something. And her father? He didn't say much at all, but his absence spoke louder than any words could. They were always gone, always "working," always finding new reasons not to be around.

She wasn't stupid. She'd started to wonder if work was just an excuse. Maybe they didn't know what to do with her. Maybe they couldn't stand to be around her.

But that was fine. Cairo didn't need them. She didn't need anyone.

She convinced herself of that now as she strolled through the hallway, catching snippets of conversation, fleeting glances at the chaos she'd created.

"Did you hear—?"

"...Mr. Miller?"

"I always thought she was kind of weird..."

It should've stung, hearing them talk about you like that. But it didn't.

Because this was how things had to be.

In Cairo's world, there were no compromises, no apologies, no middle ground. There was only winning or losing. And if you weren't with her, you were against her.

She thought about the way you'd stood there yesterday, daring to question her, to challenge her. You were supposed to agree with her. That's what friends did, wasn't it? That's what YOU were supposed to do. You were supposed to see her plan for what it was—brilliant, unstoppable—and back her up without hesitation.

But you didn't.i

And now, you saw what happened when you didn't.

For Cairo, this wasn't revenge—it was balance. It was restoring the natural order of things. You'd crossed her, so she had to ruin you. That was the only way she knew how to handle betrayal. She didn't understand how to argue it out or let it go. She only knew how to burn it to the ground.

She'd done it before. She could still remember the look on Taylor Myers' face when Cairo had spread that rumor about her stealing from the drama club fundraiser.

Taylor had cried in the bathroom for weeks. She'd eventually left school altogether. But Cairo hadn't felt bad then, either. Taylor had deserved it.

She'd said something snide to Cairo in class, and Cairo had responded the only way she knew how: with fire.

This wasn't any different. If anything, it was worse. You hadn't just made a snide comment—you'd betrayed her. You'd questioned her.

So she would ruin you, just like she ruined everyone else who dared to cross her.

And maybe, in the quiet moments, when she thought too hard about why she was like this, she felt a flicker of unease. But she buried it deep, under layers of pride and rage.

Because what else could she do? This was who she was.

Now, Cairo was leaning against her locker, one hand gripping the metal door while the other fidgeted with the zipper of her jacket. The hallway was loud with overlapping conversations, but her focus was elsewhere. She wasn't paying attention to her surroundings—not really. She was waiting. For you.

And then she saw you.

You walked through the corridor, your head held a little lower than usual, your gaze flitting uncertainly between the clusters of students you passed. You didn't look at Cairo. Not even once. But everyone else? You couldn't avoid them.

The whispers were pointed now, no longer concealed behind cupped hands or turned backs. Someone standing by the water fountain said something loud enough for you to hear, their voice laced with mockery.

A group of girls by the lockers looked you up and down, their expressions curled into sneers.

One of them muttered something—just a single word—but it was enough to send a ripple of laughter through their group.

And you? You just kept walking, your lips pressed tightly together, your face betraying what you were trying so hard to hide. Confusion. Hurt.

Cairo's stomach twisted.

She didn't want to feel it, but she did—a pang of something sharp and uncomfortable, cutting through the armor she'd built around herself. For a moment, her mask nearly slipped. For a moment, she remembered exactly who she had done this to.

It wasn't just anyone. It wasn't some random classmate who'd made an offhand comment she didn't like. It wasn't an enemy or a stranger.

It was you.

Her best friend.

And for the briefest of moments, the fire in her chest faltered, replaced by something she couldn't quite name. Regret? Doubt? She didn't know.

All she knew was that the look on your face—the way you blinked back whatever emotions were welling up, the way you kept moving even as the whispers grew louder—made her stomach churn.

But then she reminded herself why she'd done this.

You had tried to scold her. You hadn't supported her like you were supposed to. You hadn't told her it was a great idea. You hadn't agreed with her.

That was your mistake.

So no, her mask didn't fully slip. The flicker of guilt was smothered before it could grow. She gripped the edge of her locker tighter, her knuckles turning white, and forced herself to hold onto the anger. Because that was easier. That was familiar.

By the time you disappeared into your next class, the churning in her stomach had faded. All that remained was the satisfaction of knowing she'd taught you what happened when you didn't side with her.

And maybe, just maybe, that satisfaction wasn't as comforting as it should've been.

But as Cairo slammed her locker shut, the faint echo of your face lingered in her mind—confused, hurt, and vulnerable. It was only a matter of time, she thought.

She could already picture it: you standing in front of her, eyes wide with regret, voice trembling as you apologized.

You'd tell her you were sorry. That you should've supported her. That you hadn't meant to go against her.

The thought soothed the last trace of unease in her chest, replacing it with a cruel sort of satisfaction.

Because you'd come crawling back. You always did.

___

By the time next day arrived, Cairo had barely slept. She had laid on her bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling as the hours stretched on endlessly. Every time her eyelids grew heavy, her mind would jolt her awake again, replaying fragments of the day she wished she could forget.

She had tried to blame the restlessness on the scratch in her throat, the raspy cough brought on by the cigarettes she'd burned through in a desperate attempt to calm herself down. But deep down, she knew it wasn't the smoke.

It was the silence.

An entire day had passed without speaking to you—a record. She hadn't spoken to you during lunch, in the hallways, or even through text. She had told herself it didn't matter, but the silence had gnawed at her insides until she felt hollow.

What had unsettled her most, though, was the memory of you in the corridor. She could still see the look on your face, clear as day—the confusion, the flicker of hurt, as people stared at you, whispering openly. They hadn't even tried to hide it, glaring or laughing as you'd walked by. And you?

You had looked around at everyone but her, clearly searching for answers, completely unaware of the storm Cairo had unleashed.

That was what had kept her up all night. You didn't know.

She had rolled over onto her side, burying her face in her pillow as if that could smother the thoughts clawing at her. She had tried to remind herself why she'd done it.

You hadn't agreed with her. You had scolded her, told her she was wrong, tried to stop her. You were supposed to understand her, supposed to stand by her, but instead, you'd turned against her.

Still, it hadn't gone away. By the time she'd finally fallen asleep, it had been far too late, and the restless hours she'd managed hadn't done much to help. When she'd woken up, the unease had clung to her chest, heavy and unrelenting, like it was a part of her.

It was a feeling she couldn't describe, though that wasn't new. She had lived with that kind of nameless heaviness since she was seven. But this? This was different.

When she had walked into the corridor where your lockers were, it had only gotten worse.

Students were clustered in groups, leaning against walls, whispering and giggling behind their hands. Some pointed toward a single locker, their laughter spilling out in bursts. Others simply walked past, sparing a glance and then smirking as they moved on.

Cairo hadn't thought much of it—until she had gotten close enough to see what they were laughing at.

It was your locker.

A single piece of paper had been taped across the front, its letters bold and jagged.

SKANK.

Cairo's breath had caught for a moment, but she had quickly swallowed it down. She had felt something twist in her stomach, but she had forced her expression to remain blank as she passed by.

Students were still pointing and snickering, some snapping pictures on their phones, others nudging each other and whispering even louder when they saw you walking in.

Cairo quickly walked to her locker, which was further down the corridor. Her pulse thrummed in her ears as she yanked the door open and pretended to sift through her things. She didn't want you to think she was the one who had done it.

Of course, technically, she was—the rumor she had planted had led to this, even if she hadn't physically taped that paper to your locker. Still, she couldn't stand the idea of you connecting her to it, of you knowing.

She kept her back turned, keeping her movements deliberate and unhurried, but the noise behind her—the laughter, the whispers—was impossible to tune out. She was itching to look, to see what you were doing. And eventually, she did.

Turning just slightly, she let her eyes find you again.

You were still standing in front of your locker, frozen, staring at the word scrawled across the paper as if trying to understand how it had gotten there.

Your brows were furrowed, your lips pressed tightly together, and your shoulders trembled just enough to be noticeable. It was the way your chin tilted ever so slightly upward, like you were trying to hold yourself together, that hit Cairo the hardest.

Your eyes were glassy, shimmering with unshed tears that you refused to let fall. The confusion on your face was heartbreaking—because it was clear you didn't know why this had happened. You didn't know who had done it, or why.

It broke something in Cairo, watching you like that.

Her mask—the cool, detached exterior she had perfected over the years—almost shattered completely.

She tried to remind herself of why she'd done this. You hadn't agreed with her. You had scolded her. You had stood in her way, when you were supposed to stand with her. And this—this was what happened to people who didn't.

But none of it felt like enough anymore.

You turned your head, scanning the hallway for any signs of who might have done it. But everyone avoided your gaze. Some were glaring or whispering behind their hands, others laughing outright, and the rest simply turned away the moment you looked in their direction.

And then your eyes landed on her.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop.

Cairo could feel her chest tighten as she held your gaze. She could see the question there, unspoken but loud enough to hear in her head: Was it you?

And for a split second, Cairo thought about stepping forward. About saying something, anything, that might erase the look on your face, the crack in your voice that would inevitably follow if you spoke.

But she didn't.

Instead, she forced her façade to stay in place, locking down the guilt threatening to spill over. Her jaw tightened as she turned back to her locker, shoving a book inside with more force than necessary.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw you finally move. You ripped the paper from your locker, crumpling it in your fist. Your movements were quick and sharp, but not angry—just desperate, like you were trying to erase it before anyone else could see.

And then you yanked open your locker, shoving the crumpled paper inside before slamming it shut. The clang of the metal door echoed down the hallway, cutting through the noise like a knife.

Cairo didn't look at you again. She couldn't.

By the time lunch rolled around, the rumor Cairo had started had taken on a life of its own. The cafeteria buzzed with hushed voices, none of them low enough to be discreet. Cairo could feel it in the air, thick and suffocating—a storm she had set loose but couldn't control.

Sliding into her usual seat, she kept her head low, poking at the sandwich on her tray as the conversations around her hit her like punches to the gut. None of it sounded like what she had told Winnie. Not even close.

"I heard she's pregnant with his kid," a girl at the next table whispered, her tone a mix of disgust and disbelief. "That's why he left. He's, like, running from the responsibility."

"Pregnant?" another voice chimed in. "No way. I heard she was doing it for better grades, but it got out of hand, and he had to leave because it was a whole thing with the administration."

"She's probably slept with all the male teachers," someone muttered nearby, barely hiding their laughter. "Wouldn't be surprised if that's how she got through high school in the first place."

Cairo's stomach churned.

Every new twist, every new grotesque fabrication, felt like a weight pressing down on her chest. None of this was what she had said. She had been deliberate, precise, sticking to just enough to make it believable. She had wanted to hurt you, yes, but she hadn't expected it to spiral this far, this quickly.

And now? Now it was everywhere.

She clenched her fists under the table, her knuckles whitening as she stared down at her untouched lunch. Cairo never panicked. She didn't know how. Chaos was her playground; she was the one who thrived in it, the one who created it. But now, for the first time, she felt like the chaos was swallowing her whole.

This wasn't what she'd wanted. She didn't want people to think you were pregnant, or that you'd been sleeping with other teachers, or any of the other twisted lies that were spreading like wildfire.

Her breath hitched when she overheard another snippet of conversation from the table behind her.

"She probably blackmailed him," a boy said, loud enough for half the cafeteria to hear. "That's why he left so fast. She's got dirt on all of them, I bet."

Cairo's pulse was racing, her chest tight with something she couldn't name. Guilt? Fear? She didn't know, and she didn't want to. All she knew was that she'd started something she couldn't stop, and now it was spiraling out of control.

Her hands trembled as she picked up her sandwich, forcing herself to take a bite. The dry bread caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down, refusing to let anyone see her crack. She was Cairo Sweet, after all. She didn't panic. She didn't feel bad.

But then she thought about you. About the look on your face that morning. About how you had stared at her, confused and hurt, like you were searching for answers in her eyes.

And suddenly, she wasn't so sure about any of it anymore.

She sat frozen at her table, staring blankly at her tray. She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there when she noticed you enter.

You held a tray of food against your hip, walking with a calmness that almost seemed defiant. Your expression was blank, almost disinterested, as though the entire day hadn't been spent tearing you apart in the cruelest ways imaginable.

Cairo's chest tightened at the sight, her eyes glued to you as you scanned the room. She could see what you were looking for—somewhere, anywhere you could sit by yourself.

And for a moment, it seemed like you'd found it. Your gaze lingered on a bench in the far corner, away from the noise, the eyes, the whispers.

But before you could take another step toward the corner bench you'd spotted, someone's voice sliced through the air, louder than the rest.

"That Y/N slut slept with Mr. Miller," the voice sneered, dripping with mockery. "Heard she's pregnant, too. Maybe that's why she's always looking so bloated."

The words hung there, loud enough for half the cafeteria to hear, and Cairo's heart stopped.

Your head turned sharply toward the source, and Cairo saw the way your shoulders stiffened, your tray trembling in your hands. They didn't see you—too wrapped up in their laughter, too oblivious to the pain they were causing—but Cairo saw everything.

And then, your gaze shifted. You turned your head, scanning the crowd, and Cairo's stomach dropped.

You were looking for her.

When your eyes finally found hers, it was like a punch to the chest. Cairo froze, every muscle in her body locking up as if she'd been caught in a spotlight.

She didn't dare look away, even though she wanted to. Even though she couldn't stand the way you were staring at her.

Your eyes were glassy, tears brimming just enough to make the cafeteria lights reflect in them. But they didn't fall. Your jaw was clenched tight, your lips pressed into a trembling line as if holding back the urge to scream.

And the look you gave her—it was like a knife twisting in her gut.

You knew.

Cairo's breath hitched as she felt your gaze bore into her, relentless and unyielding. It was the same look you'd given her when you were kids, the time she'd blamed you for stealing cookies from the jar in front of her parents. Back then, it was a childish betrayal, the kind that faded by the next day.

This wasn't.

This was anger and hurt, disbelief and something that felt far worse: recognition. You looked at her as if she had been the one to put the note on your locker. And in a way, you weren't wrong.

Cairo's lips trembled, and she quickly bit the inside of her cheek to steady herself. It was ridiculous. Cairo Sweet didn't panic. She didn't regret. She didn't crack.

But now, under your gaze, she felt like she was crumbling.

You didn't say a word. You didn't need to. The way you stared at her, as if she were a stranger, said more than words ever could.

And then, without breaking eye contact, you turned on your heel.

Cairo's breath caught as she watched you stride to the nearest trash can. Your movements were sharp, deliberate, each step like a hammer driving a nail into her chest. When you reached it, you dumped your entire tray of food into the bin with a force that made it clang loudly, drawing the attention of half the room.

You didn't hesitate. You didn't pause. You just walked out, your head held high despite the tears threatening to spill.

Cairo sat frozen, her lungs struggling for air as the cafeteria noise gradually swelled back around her. People whispered and laughed again, oblivious to the storm raging inside her.

Her mind was spinning, replaying everything in an endless loop. She had wanted to hurt you, to punish you for standing in her way, for not agreeing with her plan.

But now, watching you walk out of the cafeteria—broken but still carrying yourself with a dignity she'd tried so hard to strip away—she realized something she couldn't ignore.

Cairo sat frozen, her lungs still fighting for air as the cafeteria roared back to life around her. The noise felt distant, muffled, like she was underwater. People were still laughing, still whispering, still twisting the knife deeper into the wound she had created. But Cairo didn't hear them. Not really.

Her mind spun in endless circles, replaying the way you'd looked at her—the tears in your eyes, the sharpness of your jaw, the weight of your silence. It was unbearable. It was suffocating.

And it was entirely her fault.

She had wanted to hurt you. She could admit that now, if only to herself. She had wanted to knock you down a peg, to remind you that you weren't perfect, that you didn't always get to be the one who was right. You'd stood in her way, called her out, refused to see things her way. And for that, she had wanted you to feel what it was like to lose.

But this?

This wasn't what she had expected.

Cairo had told herself it would be harmless. A rumor, a few whispers—something petty and fleeting that would blow over in a week. She had convinced herself it was just words, just noise, nothing that would stick. You'd get mad, maybe confront her, and she'd roll her eyes and shrug it off. You'd forgive her eventually. You always did.

But instead, she had lit a fire she couldn't control.

The rumor had spread like poison, twisting into something grotesque and unrecognizable. It wasn't just about Mr. Miller anymore. It was about everything they could find to tear you down. They'd taken her words and turned them into weapons, each one sharper than the last.

And you were the one left bleeding.

Cairo's chest tightened as guilt clawed at her throat. She had wanted you to feel small, to feel the sting of being wrong. But now, she realized what she had actually done. She hadn't just hurt you. She had handed you over to the wolves and stood back while they tore you apart.

And for what?

Why had she done it?

Because she was angry? Because she wanted to be right? Because it was easier to blame you than to admit that maybe, just maybe, she was the one in the wrong?

The truth hit her like a punch to the gut. She hadn't done it for any grand reason. She'd done it because she was selfish. Because she was scared. Because when you'd looked at her that day, challenging her, standing your ground, she'd felt small. And she hated feeling small.

But now, sitting there in the chaos she had created, Cairo felt smaller than ever.

Her hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white. She wanted to fix it. She wanted to take it all back, to rewind the clock to that day in the hallway, to the moment she'd let her anger get the better of her. But it was too late.

The damage was done.

Cairo's stomach churned as she thought of the look in your eyes, the way you had walked out of the cafeteria with your head held high, even as everything around you crumbled. You were stronger than she'd ever given you credit for. Stronger than her.

And yet, she had broken something between you that could never be repaired.

She had expected to feel triumphant, to feel vindicated. Instead, all she felt was hollow.

The laughter around her grew louder, grating against her skin, and she wanted to scream, to tell them all to shut up, to stop talking about you like you were some kind of joke. But she didn't. She couldn't.

Because this was her fault.

Cairo clenched her jaw, her nails biting into her palms as the guilt twisted deeper. She had pushed you too far, dragged you into something you hadn't deserved, all because she couldn't control herself. She had ruined you, and in doing so, she had ruined herself.

This wasn't what she had wanted.

And as she sat there, drowning in the weight of her own actions, Cairo realized something that terrified her more than anything else.

She didn't know how to stop it.

[tightjeansjavi]

Tongue Tied

Joel Miller x f!reader

NSFW 🔞

A/N: I came up with this idea at work 😵‍💫 this one specifically is for @chaotic-mystery you’re welcome bby! This can be read as a stand-alone piece or a blurb/one-shot for ‘Burning in a Hopeless Dream’

Summary: a game of spin the bottle ends exactly how you imagine it to; you and Joel, a headboard banging, and tongues tied.

~word count : 4.2k~

Warnings: possessive! joel, jealous! joel, a lil feral and horny! joel, established relationship, swearing, tension, mentions of alcohol, smut, filth, consent, teasing, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap that willy) oral (f receiving) a huge fucking praise kink, nicknames, cock warming, like just a whole lot of filth. Y’all get the warnings. (+18) minors dni !

Songs used:

“Small Talk” by Niall Horan

“Tonight you are Mine” by The Technicolors

“Dirty Love” by Mt. Joy

“Talk” by Hozier

It was Joel’s brilliant idea to throw you a ‘we’re so glad the knife didn’t go too deep!’ Party.

For some context, just two months ago, you were stabbed by one of Robert’s henchmen. You nearly bled out on Joel and Tess’s kitchen table. Joel was at your side the entire time you were recovering and now that you fully healed, what better way to celebrate than with a little dark humor, real fucking booze, and good company.

Tess had brought her friend Bea over and you already had your sneaking suspicion that they were an item already. Or, at the very least, they were 1000% fucking. Joel was a little slow with these sorts of things but you knew in time, he would figure it out. Regardless, you were happy for Tess and your friendship was seemingly coming full circle. Hell had certainly freezed over at that point. You, and Tess? Friends? Who would have ever thought that was even fucking possible. I guess you almost bleeding to death on the kitchen table was enough for her to finally end the quarrel between you two.

“Where in the hell did you manage to find some real fucking whiskey Tess?”

You were sitting across Joel’s lap on the couch. His arm was loosely wrapped around your waist, his fingers lightly holding onto the side of your hip where the soft skin there met your thigh. He always had to be touching you somehow. Being affectionate was something that Joel really never understood, nor cared for, but you changed his view on it. Now? He couldn’t get enough of you, or your skin on his. He was painfully addicted, royally and utterly fucked, because of you.

You felt him lightly tap his fingers against the sliver of skin exposed under your t-shirt as he took a sip from his own glass.

“Would you believe me if I told you those Fedra fucks somehow have their own stash of top-shelf booze?”

You brought the rim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip and you could feel Joel staring at you. Not in a weird, or creepy way. He was admiring you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Makes me hate them just a little bit more than I already do. Seriously though, what did you have to do to get this stuff?”

Tess laughed and took a sip from her own glass as she leaned back against the wall. “A handjob and a real quick one at that. Dude lasted all of 30 seconds. It was pretty pathetic but hey, I wanted to make sure you could taste some of the real fucking stuff for once. You earned it.”

Joel let out a weird noise, covering it with a chuckle over the rim of his glass. He had lightly squeezed your hip.

You weren’t even phased by Tess’s answer in the slightest.

“30 fucking seconds? Now that is honestly really pathetic. I appreciate you putting yourself through that bullshit. This stuff is definitely better than the other crap we’ve been drinking. So thank you again.” You raised your glass in her direction, a small grin on your lips.

Tess mirrored your actions, raising her glass in your direction before taking a sip.

“Just don’t expect me to put myself through that ever again, alright?”

You giggled, leaning back against Joel’s broad chest, shaking your head.

“Oh god, No! I will never expect you to put yourself through that again!”

It was Tess’s idea for everyone to play a friendly game of spin the bottle. As soon as she suggested it, Joel was grumbling about how it was a stupid game for teenagers and that he would not be participating in those kinds of shenanigans.

“Tess. I ain’t playin’ a silly little girls game. That shit is for teenagers. Do I look like a fuckin’ teenager to you?”

“No, but you’re fucking acting like one right now, Texas. Besides, if you get lucky enough, you’ll get to kiss your girl. C’mon, just one round.”

“I ain’t gotta get lucky enough to kiss her. Can kiss her whenever I want.” He gruffly spoke.

You gave him a light jab to his side with your elbow, turning around in his lap and gave him a warning look.

“Keep acting like that and you’re never gonna get to kiss me again cowboy.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you challengingly. His eyebrow quirked up in your direction as he leaned in close enough for you to taste the warm whiskey on his breath.

“You wanna fuckin’ bet on that one sugar?” He went to brush his thumb against your plush, lower lip when you had given his chest a light shove, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Shuddup. You and I both know you’re not gonna win this one, honey. So get up from this fuckin couch and play this game with us. Or, you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

Joel grumbled something under his breath as he stared at you for a minute longer. He was trying to gauge if you were bullshitting him but by the way you stared right back, he knew you were dead serious.

“Fuckin’ gonna get you back for this sweetheart. You’ll see.”

You reached over and gave his cheek a light, affectionate pat, brushing your thumb against the coarse hair on his beard.

“Mhm. I’m sure you will, cowboy.”

Tess and Bea were already sat on the floor across from each other, an old empty beer bottle between them.

“Jesus fuck. You guys just gonna continue to eye fuck eachother or are we gonna play the game? Just one round, and then we’ll get out of your hair so you guys can rip each other's clothes off.” Tess said with a grin.

Your cheeks heated up at the slightest, from Tess’s crudeness, and the warm whiskey flowing through your veins.

You stood up from the couch, turning to look back at your lover, who was staring right back at you.

“C’mon Joel. Don’t make me ask you again.”

When he rolled his eyes in response, you wasted no time to grab his hand, yanking him up from the couch in one swift movement.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ woman. Alright, alright. I’m up.” He begrudgingly took a seat across from you on the worn carpet.

“We all know the rules, right? I mean..they’re fairly simple anyway.”

“Yeah, Tess. Just fuckin’ get on with it already.” Joel grumbled.

Tess turned to you and pushed the bottle in your direction.

“Think you get the first honors of spinning. Only fair after what you went through.”

You held your hand against your chest in mock shock as Tess gave you the first spin.

“Really? Wow, Tess. I think I’m going to document this moment forever.” You jokingly said.

“Oh, shut up. You’re lucky I actually have learned how to tolerate you. Now go on, spin.”

“I’m so loved.” You said with a giggle before grasping the bottle between your fingers, glancing at the three of them before you spun The bottle.

It spinned a few times before slowly coming to a stop. The opened end of the bottle was pointed directly at Tess.

You glanced at Joel for a moment. His brows were furrowed in slightly as he observed where the bottle was pointing. He was unashamedly looking forward to this, and you could tell just by the way he took his time with bringing the rim of his glass to his lips. His eyes were locked on yours, a smirk appearing.

“Well, you gonna kiss her baby doll?”

You could tell Tess was a little hesitant as she looked at you. You on the other hand? You were already scooting towards her. The liquor was giving you a bit of confidence boost as you reached for her face, gently holding her cheeks in your warm palms.

“You good with this?” You asked, while stroking your thumbs against her soft skin gently.

Tess had given you a slight nod of consent before you leaned in, just lightly brushing your lips against hers, your eyes fluttering shut as you pulled her in close. You teased her for a moment before fully pressing your lips against hers.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Tess kissed you back as she reached up, threading her fingers through your hair.

The kiss lasted all of 30 seconds as you bit down on her lower lip, tugging it out with your teeth before gently releasing it.

Tess had given you one last peck before she pulled back, grabbing what was left of her glass and tossed it down her throat.

“Fuck, I see why you like her so much Miller. She’s a damn fuckin good kisser.”

Joel was looking right at you as he spoke, nodding his head.

“Mhm. She damn well is. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas about stealin’ my girl Tess. She’s all mine, and I don’t take kindly to sharin’.”

You were used to Joel’s possessive nature by now. You lived through it. For some reason, hearing him say ‘my girl’ did something to you. You were absolutely counting down the minutes till Tess and Bea would leave so that you could have Joel all to yourself.

A few more rounds were played, much to Joel’s disapproval. You had ended up kissing Tess a couple more times and when you had slid into her lap at one point, Joel had enough. You could tell he was jealous just by the clench of his jaw, the furrow of his brows and the way he clutched the whiskey glass in his fist. You were afraid if he held it any tighter, the glass would surely break.

Whoops.

Tess and Bea got the memo pretty quick and had left after you crawled out her lap, an innocent look stricken across your pretty face.

“Did ya enjoy yourself sweetheart?” Joel was absentmindedly spinning the bottle now, his gaze falling on you.

“Mhm. Best, ‘we’re so glad the knife didn’t go deeper’ party ever.”

“Mmm. Thought so. You really liked kissin’ on Tess like that huh? You gonna save any of that for me?”

You were leaned back on your elbows as you looked over at him, an eyebrow raised in a suggestive manner.

“You jealous or something cowboy? You looked to be enjoying yourself as well. How about you take a final spin? See if you get lucky tonight.”

“Mmm. I ain’t got nothin’ to be jealous about when I know I get you at the end of the night.”

He spun the bottle once and watched it land facing you. You could both feel the air getting thick with tension. The chemistry was absolutely sizzling, sending all the warning signs that it was about to explode.

“Guess you are getting lucky tonight.”

Joel didn’t even have a moment to respond before you were in his lap, straddling his hips. The tension had shattered when he immediately grasped your hips between his rough, calloused palms. He bunched the thin fabric of your t-shirt up so he could finally touch your warm skin, he felt the goosebumps rising already.

“C’mon pretty girl. Kiss me already, please. You gonna make me beg ya?” He drawled.

You loved having Joel beneath you like this and at your mercy. You loved the way he looked up at you with his deep, puppy dog brown eyes. His lips were held in a slight pout as you brushed your thumb across his lower lip, watching as he nibbled on the tip of your finger.

God, submissive Joel was so fucking sexy.

You leaned down, grabbing his face in your hands before you finally kissed him, slotting your lips together as you held control of the situation. You knew it would only for a short moment before he’d take over. He lowly mumbled against your lips, your tongues tangled, teeth clashing.

“How do you want me tonight baby? You want it sweet? Rough? Filthy?”

He slid his hands up the expanse of your back, his fingers splayed out against your skin.

“All of the above, cowboy. I fucking want it all.”

He flipped you over onto your back with ease, yanking you down so you were underneath him. He was gripping your chin between his fingers, while his thumb brushed against your lower lip. Now you were looking up at him, anticipating his next move, while you wrapped your lips around the tip of his thumb, eyelashes fluttering. The sight of you beneath him, looking so needy, so pretty for him, had his cock twitching in his jeans.

“Look at you baby. You look so fuckin pretty for me honey. Fuck. Don’t look at me with those eyes. Y’know what those things do to me? Fuckin’ got me meltin’ like putty.” His Texas accent was thick, warm, deep, and it settled deliciously between your legs. You were aching for him already.

“Joel. Baby, please. C’mon.”

“Shh. I know, pretty girl. Gonna treat you real good, okay? You know I will. I got you, you got me. Now wrap your legs ‘round me. Ain’t gonna fuck you on the floor. Next time, Kay sugar? Want you on the bed.”

Joel didn’t have to ask you twice as you wrapped your thighs around his hips while he lifted you up into his arms with ease, grasping you by the outside of your thighs.

He managed to reattach his lips to yours while he carried you down the hall, using his hip to push open your shared bedroom. You only had a moment to breathe when he had tossed you onto the mattress. Your lips were swollen, and your face flushed as you watched him pull his shirt over his head with one hand.

It easily was one of the sexiest things a man could do. Even more sexy because Joel Miller was your man. Your fellow, your guy.

You let out a soft, heart clenching giggle as he crawled on top of you, peppering your face with warm kisses. His beard lightly scraped at your skin but you didn’t mind. You fucking loved it.

“Fuckin’ damn near lost my mind when you kissed Tess like that. Fuckin’ filthy of you to climb in her lap. What would have happened if I wasn’t in the room? Hmm sweet girl? Bet you woulda kept goin’.”

His kisses moved from your face to your jaw, and down your neck. He was sucking greedily at your tender flesh. His teeth, lips and tongue worked in a steady flow as he left his marks upon you. He loved the way you would grip his hair, and scrape your nails against his scalp. The feeling had his eyes rolling back into his skull.

“Joel..” you whimpered out his name as he continued to mark you up.

“Yeah, baby? Is it too much? Want me to stop?” He mumbled against your skin. His fingers were pushing your shirt back up, exposing more of your skin. His fingertips lightly brushed against your navel.

“Don’t stop, please. I need more. Joel, baby give me more.”

“Needy little thing for me, huh? Don’t want me to take my time with ya? Mmm..I think you can be a little patient, right sweet girl?”

“Touch me or so help me god—“

His fingers were at the waistband of your jeans, he had popped the button open and was now toying with the zipper.

He loved holding you over the edge like this.

“What’re gonna do about it if I don’t give you what you want, honey? C’mon. Be a good girl for me.”

You let out a frustrated huff, a whine slipping past your throat because you were that fucking desperate for his touch. You absolutely craved it.

“Joel, please. Want you, want your fingers, your tongue. Want it all, please. Please just fucking touch me.”

He chuckled while he slowly dragged your zipper down, slipping his fingers between the waistband of your jeans and your panties.

“Mmm. Well, since you said please…”

He brushed his fingers against your clit, watching as your pretty lips fell open and he drank it all in.

“Take your shirt off for me, sugar. Play with your pretty tits while I play with your pussy, Kay? Fuckin’ wet for me already. Absolutely drippin.’ That for me, or Tess?”

“Both.” You deadpanned as you wasted no time to lift your shirt above your head, tossing it to the side.

Joel couldn’t help but lean down and wrap his lips around one of your peaked buds as he sank his teeth against the sensitive skin, causing your body to jolt up slightly.

He had used his free hand, that wasn’t teasing you, to push your jeans down your legs. He yanked them down past your ankles, along with your panties.

All it took was for him to tap your thigh lightly and you were spreading your legs for him as if on command.

Damn him.

“Absolutely fuckin filthy. Look at you baby. Drippin’ for me, and Tess.”

He was teasing your slick folds, watching your face the entire time, with intensity. He watched your mouth go slack when he had slowly slipped in two of his fingers, pumping them slowly. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he curled them against the soft, spongy texture of your walls.

Your moans filled the small room deliciously. He couldn’t wait to have you screaming so loud, the neighbors and patrolling FEDRA fucks would be able to hear you from outside.

“Feels good, huh baby? I gotta have a taste. Will you let me, sweet girl? Will you let me have a taste of your pretty little pussy?”

You grabbed his face, roughly pulling him down to you by his chin. You kissed him hard, tasting the smooth whiskey on his tongue, knocking the air out of your lungs and his. “Have a taste, cowboy.”

You pulled away from the searing kiss, your fingers still wrapped around his soft curls as you guided his head down, with zero hesitation.

“Fuckin’ don’t have to ask me twice.” He gruffly responded as he dragged his lips down your navel, scooting himself lower, on his knees. He used his free hand to yank you closer to him, holding his hand down against your stomach firmly with his arm wrapped around you, locking you in place.

He wasted no time to press a kiss to your aching cunt, dragging his tongue across your clit as he continued to curl his fingers. The combination was mind-numbing.

He had you moaning his name as if it was a fucking prayer. Each swipe of his tongue, each time he hit that spot that had you seeing stars, your moans would rise an octave. All for him. Your fellow, your guy.

“Sound so fuckin pretty for me baby. So fuckin pretty.” He mumbled against you, his mouth full of your pussy.

“F-f—fuck Joel. I’m—fuck. So good baby. So fuckin good.”

“Don’t come for me yet honey. Not yet, I know, sweet girl. Don’t give in.”

His beard was slightly scraping against your inner thighs, he shook his head back and forth, causing his nose to bump against your aching clit and your thighs to close in around his head. He surely had deep scratches along his scalp from how hard you were digging your nails into him.

“J—Joel! Fuck—stop! Stop! I can’t—baby I can’t hold on much longer!

His tongue was fiercely lapping at you now, your thighs squeezing, trembling around his head. You never thought the overwhelming euphoria would end till he lifting his mouth from you. His beard, and lips were coated in your arousal. His pupils darkened as he looked up at you.

Your other hand was toying with your breasts, pinching the sensitive nubs between your fingers as you panted, catching your breath as you looked down at your lover.

“Can I have a taste, please?” You breathed out.

He slipped his fingers out, they were coated in your arousal as he sat up on his knees, bringing them down to your lips, smearing them with your cum before he slipped them in. He watched as you wrapped your lips around his fingers, dragging your tongue across the ridges, your eyes fiercely locked on his.

“So fuckin’ pretty for me. You like the way you taste baby? You taste so fuckin’ sweet darlin’.”

He slipped his fingers out slowly, replacing them with his lips as he kissed you hard. Slipping his tongue past your lips with ease. There was something so erotic about you and him tasting your cum together.

You hear the sound of his belt clanking, his jeans dragging down his legs as he rid himself of his clothes, tossing them onto the floor with yours.

You were already pulling him in as close as possible when you felt his tip pressing against the side of your thigh, while his other hand was firmly wrapped around the headboard.

“Gonna scream for me darlin.’? Gonna let the neighbors fuckin’ know you’re mine?” He had detached his lips from yours, momentarily. His forehead gently resting against yours as he dragged his tip against your slick folds, letting out a low hiss.

“Loud enough that they’re gonna think I’m getting murdered, cowboy.”

“Mmm. That’s exactly what I fuckin like to hear. You ready baby? I got you, you got me.”

Joel always knew how to get your heart skipping a beat, and the butterflies in your stomach flapping. Even when you were fucking.

“I got you, you got me.” You let out a soft sigh when he slowly pressed into you, you loved the way he filled you up to the brim, each time. He stretched you deliciously. Nothing about Joel Miller was small, and you fucking loved it.

“Fuckin’ hell. So tight for me. So fuckin tight. Goddamn. Don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to being buried inside this pretty pussy. Grippin’ me so well. So good for me baby.” Joel praised you as he sank into your warmth.

His pubic bone was nudging yours. That’s how deep he was enveloped inside you.

Just where he always wanted to be.

“S’okay? Feelin’ good honey?’ He pressed a kiss to your jaw, nipping lightly at your chin as he dipped his head down.

You nodded, glancing down at where your bodies were connected while you brought your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“S’good baby.”

He let out a breath of air as he drew his hips back before thrusting them forward, he repeated this motion a few more times, listening to the sound his hips would make when they smacked against your skin.

You brought your leg around his hip, digging the heel of your foot into his ass, pushing him in deeper as he started to pick up the pace, his jaw going slack as you clenched around him.

The headboard was smacking against the wall, the shitty mattress squeaking beneath the weight of his thrusts.

The room was thick in the stench of sex, and two lovers in the middle of it all.

Joel’s groans entwined with your moans as he rammed into you. His fingers were holding onto your hip so tightly, you surely would have bruises in the morning.

“That’s it baby doll. Takin’ me so fuckin’ good. Always so good for me baby. Fuckin’ can stay buried in you all fuckin’ night. Drunk off this pretty little pussy. Drunk off you darlin’.” His words came out jagged, in between groans as he dipped his head down to capture your lips once more.

Your tongues tied, teeth clashing, senses on overdrive.

This is where you always wanted to be.

His thrusts grew sloppy, uncoordinated as he came close to hitting his high. In the midst of his peaking orgasm, Joel was always attentive to make sure you got there before him. So it came as no surprise when he had released your hip from his harsh grip, and brought his hand down between where your bodies were connected and rubbed his thumb against your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl. So fuckin close. You gonna cum for me honey? C’mon, I’ve got you. You’re safe. C’mon baby, let go!”

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you came around him, clenching around his thick cock as your thighs quivered, and shook. He came shortly after you, his body shuttering as his orgasm rippled through him. He groaned out your name, his own personal prayer as he came undone, collapsing into your arms in a sweaty heap.

You both laughed as you came to your senses. Your fingers were gently playing with his sweaty hair, his cheek was pressed against your chest, his eyes blissfully closed. He refused to move, even as he went soft inside of you, his cum dripping down your thighs. You both felt safe here in each other's arms.

“That’s the last time you’re gonna say no to playing spin the bottle with me, right?” You whispered, your eyes closed as you rested your chin against the top of his sweat soaked head.

He hummed, bringing his arms around you, holding you close. “Mmm. Never gonna say no to you again baby. Never again.”

He was too tired to move, you were spent as well, so it came natural for him to fall asleep inside of you. Notched together, bodies entwined, right where you both always wanted to be.

[sugugasm]

DAZED ! - FUSHIGURO TOJI

SYNOPSIS : ❝ what the fuck was in that strain ? ❞

FEATURING : plug! toji x fem! reader

— CONTENT WARNING : minors do not interact !!, black reader written in mind, use and mentions of mary jane, dominant toji, female! reader, whiny toji bc i need it so bad, hair pulling, spanking, squat-riding, blowjob, fingering, use of profanity and pet names such as ᰔ slut, sweetheart ofc, baby ᰔ

— AUTHOR’S NOTE : hiiii. excuse any mistakes !! this was supposed to be out sooner but i haven’t been feeling the best :/ i’ve come around to finishing this thingy so here you goooo !!!! i hope you all enjoy. reblogs and interactions earn you a smooch.

YOU LOVED YOUR BOYFRIEND.

not only did he take care of you, tend to your every want, and give you the entire world— but he had one of the best jobs ever…in your opinion. being a dealer and all, he was always the first of the first to receive and test only the finest of products.

tonight was one of those nights — the testing nights filled with back to back experimental phases within putting his product to work.

a recent partner he’d just adopted to the group had dropped off one of those familiar, brown boxes you always saw him organizing here and there. the moment he brought it through the door, he practically tore it open like a ravaging animal hungry for prey.

you could remember how excited he was to show you the new items that would soon be appearing on his roster, but you also remembered how much of a character he was when he was high. not only did he get giggly, chattier than usual, and playful— but he also got painfully horny. any little move or phrase leaving your lips had his cock thumping against his briefs at a rapid pace.

kind of like right now.

you’re seated on his lap, eating from the bowl of popcorn you'd made moments before as some cheesy action movie drew your attention. the edibles you'd eaten earlier had finally kicked in, followed by the sudden hunger you'd gotten.

after a few bites, you can feel toji shifting uncomfortably beneath you. your mind immediately goes to the thought of his legs falling asleep, but that thought quickly fades as toji begins to grip your hips even tighter than before, “are you alright, baby? am i hurting you?” you inquire, tilting your head to the side and looking sympathetically at him. toji shakes his head, still remaining silent as he begins to slip his hand between your pants and underwear.

your eyes roll, “tojiii, you said it was movie night,” your whines only encouraged him more. he starts to rub circles around your clit, your dampened panties eventually stringing his fingertips with your slick.

“did i say that? i don’t remember.”

without another thought, your head is flung back. his quick fingers felt too good against you, causing your body to jolt. “we’re going to miss the good parts,” you complain, but he snatches his hand away from your dripping cunt and places a light smack on it instead.

“stop talking. watch the movie.”

his harsh tone unintentionally causes your eyes to return to the action-packed scene that has been causing commotion throughout your home. the weed in your system was already sending shivers down your spine, but his fingers playing a sweet melody with your pussy was causing much more.

“t-toji, please—“

your pussy receives yet another slap, leaving you itching and craving more. “be quiet. do you really wanna’ misbehave right now?” his question and subsequent finger entering your pussy caught you completely off guard, making your chest rumble with a loud moan.

“can you be good for me, sweetheart?” he asks, and you rapidly nod your head as an answer, “use your words. don’t play with me.”

toji deliberately thrusts upward slowly, allowing his hips to move to the point where his covered cock rubbed against your exposed folds. even though his fingertips are still fully plugged into you, you start to grind back onto him— eager to feel something more than just this.

“can't hear me or somethin’? you’re doin’ all that movin’ like you wanna’ cum, but you’re not listenin’ to me,” he stresses, moving his fingers around to meet the rhythm of your hips.

“toji, you’re being mean—“ after two minutes of trying to get an answer out of you, the third smack to your cunt gets it. you try to pull him from between your legs by closing your eyes and grabbing his wrist, but he manages it for you.

as he begins to lower his pants, you’re ifted from his lap. he motions for you to kneel, and you naturally do so. you give your boyfriend one last glance before snagging his cock with your hand as your knees come into contact with the cool flooring. his skin was soft despite the fact that he was hard in your palm. “open,” he murmurs.

and you do.

toji reaches over and pulls a pre-rolled blunt from his ashtray before lighting the end as it sat between his lips. he takes a pull, gathering as much as he could before swiveling it around in his mouth as if it were mouthwash. you assumed he was doing some sort of trick, but he catches you off guard when he grabs you by the chin.

he lifts your head up to meet his gaze and leans in for a kiss, but he stops before his lips could touch yours. you then close your eyes as you feel toji begin to blow the smoke into your mouth.

gladly taking it, you pucker your lips to inhale it better. this almost immediately turns into a heated makeout session, but toji becomes a bit too impatient for your touch, “c’mon. put your mouth on it.”

“you started it,” you giggle and that’s when he stuffs your mouth full. he smiles down at the way your lips wrap around the head— so full and soft, gliding up and down his length and taking him down your throat with such ease and greed.

the back of your thighs rest on your calves as you gulp as much of his cock down as you could. drool trailed from the corners of your mouth and spattered onto the floor beneath you as you whimper and gag from the tip of him hitting the back of your throat.

“f-fuck, yn. your throat is so warm, baby.”

the sounds of your gawking and his moaning was enough to make toji fuck your face. there wasn’t much warning, but the tip of his cock hitting your tonsils told you just how needy he really was. his hands find their way to the pretty locs you’d gotten not too long ago— his personal favorite hairstyle of yours— and twists them into his fist as he bobs your head up and down, “a-ah shit. just like that— fuck yes.”

you continue your rhythm, head circling as you slurp the mixture of precum and your own saliva from the base of his cock. the grip he has on your hair is tight— painful, even, but you wanted nothing more than to see him cum.

“make me fuckin’ cum, yn. daddy’s so close, just let me cum for you, why don’t ya’?” he bites down on his lower lip, yanking your head between his legs as the fire in his lower abdomen begins to come to light, “g-god that shit feel’s s’ good.”

he was close, closer than ever. he knew it would only take one last lick of your tongue before— “ah, ah, f-fuck. i’m fuckin’ cumming,” he warns. before you knew it, warm ropes of toji’s seed fills your mouth. a string a groans followed by the sound of him calling out your name repeatedly, holding onto the back of your head as he empties every last bit.

he stretches his arms above his head as his legs continue to shake from the powerful orgasm he just had. you lift from your knees, beginning to straddle him, and although toji was already sensitive enough, he need to be inside of you.

“open up for me,” he demands this while his hands sit on your lower back. his fingers draw circles on the arch in your spine as you tease your entrance with his tip. hissing, you slowly ease down onto your boyfriend’s lap. the veins that decorated his girth carved their shape along your walls, your stomach fluttering.

you begin to bounce and toji chuckles at how greedy you’d gotten. you were pulling at his hair, biting at his neck, and sucking him in all at once while still trying to beg for more, “i-it’s so deep toji! nnn- you feel so good,” you whine.

you feel his lips smearing kisses all over your chest and neck, brushing and leaving love bites here and there. the sounds of the movie you were once watching is now drowned completely out, the only sound being skin to skin and groans. the sticky mess along with the sweat dripping from your bodies was creating a steamy, out of body sensation.

“i love this slutty little pussy,” he expresses with a gutteral moan, hips still rutting into you, “make us cum, i know you can do it.” between his thrusts into and your slams onto him, you’d be cumming in no time. he just fit so well. toji was the perfect shape, perfect length— he was made for you.

“tojiii, m’ close.” your breath hitches and so do his thrusts. toji’s palm moves to the back of your head, holding you close enough to feel his breath trickling your top lip. he holds eye contact, his dark irises almost piercing a hole through you. this is when toji takes notice of the light tears streaming down your face as your orgasm, and his own, funnily catch up to you both.

he smashes his lips against yours and bites down on the bottom. he tastes the tang of the tears that’d reached your swollen mouth, “cum with me, baby. please fucking cum w-with me.”

beyond gorgeous.

“fuck! ooh— m’ cumming! m’cumming!” you chant, and when you do, he finishes too. you feel his warmth spurt into your belly as toji clutches on to you as if his life depended on it. you feel him completely empty himself inside of you with pure glee spread across his face.

once he diles down, he brings his eyes back to yours. toji’s head rests on your chest as he catches his breath, “guess that strain was pretty strong, huh?”

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, or repost as your own <33

[thegettingbyp2]

Would you be down for a story where it's like Season Four Five and the 58 year old version of him somehow shows up in the timeline? I keep picturing that version looking at a fem reader or someone and just going "do you see that hair? He's a walking mop." We had 3 seasons of seeing haircuts but nobody took one look at Five and laughed their tail off? I doubt that very much. (No pressure, obviously. Hope you have a wonderful day!)

What Did You See

Gripping Five’s hand tightly, you let him lead you up the stairs that lead out of the subway station. The two of you had been riding the subway to different timelines for a while now and every time you stopped, you were nervous, not knowing what you were going to come face to face with.

‘I’ve got you,’ Five said, reassuring you as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze; something that had become somewhat of a ritual for you both whenever you arrived in a different timeline. You looked up at Five, a soft smile gracing your lips as you took in his appearance. While you’ve been on the subway, his hair had grown out, framing his face and sitting at a longer length than he’d ever let it get before. It was a new look for him, but you couldn’t help but find it incredibly attractive.

‘I love you,’ you replied, squeezing his hand back and earning you a bright grin from him in return before making the final step out into the new timeline.

You felt yourself be pulled behind Five instantly as you were both greeted by the barrel of a gun. The gasp that escaped your lips involuntary. ‘I know you,’ Five said, his voice inquisitive as one of his arms remained around you, holding you behind him. Peering over his shoulder, you looked at the man standing in front of you, knowing you’ve never seen him before yet, something about him was oddly familiar.

The man in front of you was easily in his late fifties but was looking at Five as if he was deeply offended by something. ‘Dear Lord, what have you done to me?’

‘Excuse me?’ Five asked, clearly taken aback by the comment, narrowing his eyes at him.

‘What? You’re going through a rebellious phase where you refuse to cut your hair?’

Confused by the whole situation, you absentmindedly tightened your grip on Five’s arm slightly, drawing his attention back to you as he looked over his shoulder, his face softening when he looked at you. ‘(Y/N), meet Number Five,’ Five said, gently coaxing you out from behind him.

‘I haven’t heard that name in a long time,’ the man in front of you said, making your head whip around to look at him.

‘You’re him?’ you asked, looking between them both and finally realising why the other man looked so familiar to you.

‘Yes,’ the older man answered as your Five reached out to take your hand in his. ‘It’s good to see you again, (Y/N). I lost you a fair few years ago in my timeline,’ he explained, sadness filling his voice and expression.

You couldn’t help but take a step closer to your Five after hearing the older mans words; you couldn’t imagine anything happening to separate you and Five, the thought absolutely terrifying you. Five’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him and holding you tightly, clearly thinking the same thing.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said quietly, looking over at the older man as you felt Fives finger trace light circles on your waist.

‘No matter what happens, just make sure you protect her, you hear me?’ the older Five said to your Five, making Five inhale a sharp breath.

‘I’m not going to let anything happen to her,’ Five said adamantly. ‘I can’t lose her, I won’t lose her. She’s my entire life.’ You couldn’t stop the soft smile from growing on your lips at his words and you let your head fall to rest on his shoulder.

‘You’re on the subways right now aren’t you?’ Older Five asked, completely changing the subject as he looked at the two of you wistfully. ‘Go back downstairs and get on the next train going Eastbound. It will get you both back to your correct timeline.’

‘But we need to,’ Five began.

‘Eastbound, believe me, I’m saving you years of this. Go home and live your lives, be happy.’

‘Thank you,’ you said gratefully to the older man before you and Five turned around to head back down the stairs into the subway.’

‘(Y/N),’ Older Five called, making you turn your head back to face him, your Fives arm still wrapped securely around your waist, holding you against him. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Anything,’ you replied warmly.

‘What do you see?’

‘Pardon?’ you asked with a confused laugh.

‘In him, with that hair,’ he continued, gesturing to your Five. ‘His hair’s a mess, it’s all over his face, I’m surprised he can see anything!’

You couldn’t stop the laugh from erupting from your lips at his words, looking over at your Five and seeing the mildly insulted expression on his face. Reaching up, you threaded your fingers through his hair, relishing in the content groan that fell from his lips as your nails gently scratched against his scalp.

‘I don’t know, I kind of like it,’ you said, at the two Five’s before disappearing back down into the subway.

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Apricity

07/12/2023

Pairing: Andrew (Hozier) x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,733

Warnings: rpf, language, alcohol, heartbreak, pining, fluff

Summary: After a painful breakup, Andrew needs the comfort of his best friend.

A/N: I'm going to church tonight, and I brought an offering for the god(s). Hope you like it.

Picture by Daniel Goodman via Business Insider

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

“Last orders.”

The booming voice rolled through the thick, hot air like thunder. It was a wonder they could hear it at all above the music and buzz of voices, she thought, but the bearded man behind the counter looked like the type who knew exactly how to make himself heard. Andrew on the other hand was not a man who raised his voice in conversation regularly, still she shivered when instead she suddenly felt his hot breath waft through her hair.

“Shall we take another?”

But he was gone before she could even turn to face him, let alone process his words and form a coherent answer.

“Oh, so no to that,” he misconstrued the confusion on her face as their eyes finally met. “You could have just said so, you know. No need to pull a face like that.”

“What face?”

“You know, the one where your eyebrows knit together just a tiny bit and the corners of your mouth fall a little.”

He tried to mimic her expression and whether he had intended to or not, he made her laugh. And as if that wasn’t enough already, he smiled along, that crooked half-smile of his, almost as if he was surprised anything he did could genuinely amuse her. 

“Andrew, that’s just my usual face. It doesn’t mean anything. Although…”

“Ah, see. Not just your usual face after all then. You can’t fool me, you should have realised that by now. I don’t know why you still keep trying though.”

The slight curl of his lips reappeared for a moment, making him look so very proud of himself. And, for the first time this evening, almost a little happy. Now who was she to take that away from him by telling the truth: that she had been fooling him about her true feelings for months, maybe even years, and very successfully so, it seemed. 

“You’re a grown-up, Andrew. Have a drink if you want another. But—”

The last word had earned her a very dramatic roll of his eyes.

“I knew there was a ‘but’.”

“Yes, Freud, we know, you can look through me like glass, anticipating my every move.”

He chuckled. “Finally you see reason, woman.”

“But seriously,” she could see another remark form behind his mischievous eyes, so she was quick to make her point, “is that wise? Another drink will only make you sadder than you already are.”

“Sad? I’m not sad. I’m angry. Fucking furious to be precise.” 

Mostly with himself, she assumed. In all this time she had known him, he had never held a grudge against anyone for long, if at all. But it wasn’t as easy for him to forgive himself at times. Still, anger was progress.

“Good.” Softly she squeezed his hand and waited until the tension of his sudden outburst slowly subsided. “That’s good. You’re moving into the next phase then.”

He mumbled something under his breath, the sentence impossible to understand against the bustle of the pub. The only word she could identify was “Freud”, enough to help her understand that it had just been another of his sassy retorts. His next words came clearer though.

“If that really is a good thing, why can I hear concern in your voice?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t think you would recover from her so soon.”

Andrew had not told her what exactly had passed between them and she didn’t want to pry. She only knew that they had argued, and that his girlfr—ex-girlfriend—had given him an ultimatum of some sort. Whatever it had been about, he obviously hadn’t decided in the woman’s favour.

“Why shouldn’t I?” 

Before she was able to stop herself, she could feel her brow rise, reminding him that they both knew he wasn’t the type that skipped through relationships. The final decision had been made a mere five days ago, a rather short time in her opinion to move into the phase of anger. But Andrew wasn’t her and for all she knew whatever it was that had led to the sudden end of this relationship might have given him reason in abundance to be infuriated. 

“Come on, I only knew her for what? About half a year? It’s not as if she was…” For a brief moment he paused, his eyes resting on her while he tried to swallow the words that had already been forming on his tongue. But it was too late and when he finally continued, his voice was softer than it had been all evening, almost fragile. “…the love of my life.”

Eagerly he gulped down the remains of his drink as if to clean his mouth from its last statement before the glass hit the counter with an audible clink.

“You’re right though. I probably shouldn’t have another one of these. Better call it a night.”

He didn’t even wait for her response, long fingers already busy stuffing his lush bun underneath a grey beanie. She had just slipped into her jacket when he already turned to lead the way. It would be easy to get to the entrance with him in the lead, his tall form parting the crowd effortlessly for them. But he didn’t seem quite as confident in the impact of his height as he hesitated for a moment. She had no idea why, not until she could suddenly feel the warmth of his hand closing around her own. His action startled her, only for a brief second, while her brain was trying to recall a thousand memories at once just to make sure she wasn’t mistaken in thinking that he had never done this before. He hadn’t. Still it felt normal. Easy. Everything was always easy with him. Conversations, silence, laughing, crying — it was all easy. Effortless and comfortable. Natural.

It wasn’t long though before they were met with the cold night air. It hit her hard, almost making her take a step back as, with the first inhale of fresh air, it invaded her lungs. Still it was nothing, an irrelevant fact, drowned out against the much harsher sensation of his hand gliding out of hers. 

He didn’t even need to fully raise the hand that had been hers for a blink of time to make the taxi hold in front of them. But it was enough for the icy air to crawl underneath her clothes and wrap around her in a tight grip. Not even his sweet gesture of holding the door for her combined with the warmth that streamed towards her from inside the cabin could keep her from shaking violently.

And it didn’t stop. Not when the door closed, not when his body pressed against hers in the limited space of the back seat. She was almost convinced that nothing would ever stop this chill, when suddenly his voice filled the silence to state the obvious.

“You’re shivering. Come here.”

And then his arm was there, invading the unclaimed territory of her neck and shoulders to pull her close. It may have been the spirits inside her system, making her needy and weak to his touch. Whatever it was, she didn’t care as she sank deeper and deeper into the unmatched heat that seeped freely from him, directly underneath her skin. She could feel his chest rising and falling so evenly, as if her closeness meant nothing, as if this was the normal way to be. It was infectious, hypnotising her into a state of untainted drowsiness, one last thought remaining on her mind. This was it, not just the normal way to be, the only way to be. Even more so as his lips pressed to her hair, a gesture so tender it made her heart flutter, and she knew that she would never recover from this moment, however insignificant it was to him.

“I don’t think I told you, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

His words were mumbled against the crown of her head, almost inaudible above the noise of the car and the blaring music from the radio, but she had heard them and would cherish them forever, sealed inside her heart until her last breath.

For most, they would be the bare minimum after crossing an ocean in a hurry simply because she had known something was off. She always knew, from the fatigued tone of his voice to the slight change of colour in his eyes, from the way he had to force his smile, never quite reaching the full infectious gleam it usually held, his mind anywhere but with her while his fingers kneaded the palm of his hand in discomfort. 

She also knew that it had probably been an overreaction, but she would do a lot more for him than spend her last savings on a transatlantic flight and an overpriced Airbnb, for him, she would walk all the way through the eternal fires of hell and back if that was what it took to make him whole again. He probably wouldn’t do the same for her, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t expect him to, that was not the way love worked.

“Well, first and foremost I came here to whup that woman’s ass for treating you like...well, the way she did. Comforting you was just second on my list.”

Stirred by a deep chuckle, his hot breath wafted through her hair for the second time this night. It was addictive, and dangerous, because it made her want to cuddle in deeper until it was too late to let go. And right now, just for a second, she allowed herself to hope that he might actually let her. Later this night, she promised herself, she would forget all about it. Forget about the soothing warmth he gave her and the light his presence brought to her life, always. It would be hard to erase the memory of a love that had never been and never would, even more so in the cold of an unfamiliar bed, reminding her mercilessly that she was just another foreigner in a city of millions of strangers. In a world where no one truly knew her but one. And even he didn’t know the one thing she so desperately wanted him to know, yet feared to tell him the most.

“We both know that’s not true.” For a second she held her breath, stupidly fearing he had been listening in on her thoughts. “You couldn’t even hurt a fly.”

Technically, he was right, she silently agreed with him while she relaxed in his arms again. But this was about him. And seeing him like this, this gentle, loving, warm soul, defeated by the betrayal of someone he had given his whole heart to—even if he denied that now… To her, that was reason enough for far more than just a firm ass-whupping.

Maybe she should finally listen to the nagging voice inside her head and tell him just that. It seemed simple enough, a few words spoken from the heart and it would at last be out of her system. After month and month of silence it would be out in the open, released from her heart and yet vague enough for him to take it one way or the other. Like a spectator from the outside she felt herself move to leave his embrace, but before she even had the chance to open her mouth, he beat her to it. A strained groan fell from his lips, eyes rolling heavily in their sockets and she thought she might have missed the moment in which she had already made her confession without even noticing, when she realised his agitation had nothing to do with her at all. 

“Oh, come on. Of all the songs…”

Instant relief washed over her, causing a rush to the head that made her feel a little lightheaded. Enough for a cheeky grin to curl her lips.

“No, don’t you dare. Don’t even think about—” he warned, but too late.

“Go on now, go, walk out the door, just turn around now ‘cause you’re not welcome anymore…”

Her voice sounded all croaky and flat and she gave it her all to make it sound even worse. Knowing her absolute lack of talent, she usually avoided singing in public, and it had only ever happened on a handful of occasions, when the alcohol had made her indifferent to the physical pain she caused her poor audience. Andrew had always teased her relentlessly afterwards, but she knew all too well that he found it endearing and very amusing. He couldn’t deny that now, although his furrowed brows might give a different impression, but it didn’t take long until he accepted his defeat and the sweetest of smiles spread on his lips. And after leaving her hanging for another few lines, he joined in.

“I used to cry, but now I hold my head up high and you see me, somebody new, I'm not that chained-up little person still in love with you. And so you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free. Well, now I'm saving all my lovin' for someone who's loving me…”

They were both belting at the top of their lungs, all the way through the song, and when it finally ended, they fell back into their seats, giggling and panting violently as if they had just finished running a marathon. She was still holding her belly, completely wrapped up in their little cocoon of pure joy when she realised that something was off. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the taxi had come to a stop. It was hard to tell how long it had been standing in front of the red brick row house already, but if the driver’s face was anything to go by, it might have been quite a moment since their arrival. 

He cleared his throat while he held her gaze in the mirror and Andrew’s laughter died away as well. She hated the cabby a little for taking this moment away from her friend and threw him a dirty look. Andy deserved being happy, so much, if only for the length of one single song. Careful to soften her gaze, she turned to look at him.

“Well, I guess this is me then.”

His answer was nothing but a tight lipped smile that left her with a thousand different options of interpretation. She was still trying to work out its meaning when for the second time this night, he took her completely by surprise.

It wasn’t the fact that he reached out for her to pull her in for a hug that startled her, he always did that before they said goodbye, but the way his embrace felt just a little tighter, his familiar scent more intoxicating than usual and the wool of his coat that suited him so exceptionally well unbelievably soft underneath her fingertips. In a mere moment he invaded her whole being, flowing through her freely until she could hear her soul hum in the silence that surrounded them. 

It felt unholy to pull away, the sacrilege petrifying her in her seat, leaving her with no option but to stare at him. She had almost forgotten how beautiful his eyes were. That lush, mossy green, flecked with warm, earthy shades, she wanted to dive into them, and never return. 

And there it was again, that one feeling she only ever had when she was with him. It was hard to pin down, it was not as if she was not complete without him. She was. But she had spent her whole life trying to fit in and with him, she didn’t have to. It just came naturally.

For a tiny moment, it seemed as if he was moving closer again. She noticed his eyes fall to her lips, or maybe she had imagined it. Either way, she couldn’t help herself from doing the same, watching the pink pillows open the slightest bit, a sigh waiting to fall, or a word, but it never came. Instead, a dog barked somewhere nearby and the moment was gone. 

When she looked up, it was unmistakeable that the sadness had returned to his eyes as well. She hated it, hated every second they didn’t shine as brightly as they usually did. She missed the excitement they used to hold, the warmth and kindness they radiated from beneath his long lashes. And her heart broke for him all over again.

A soothing smile on her lips, the palm of her hand cupped his bearded cheek. She wanted to tell him that even if everyone were to abandon him, she would always be there. The words were forming in her mind so clearly, all she had to do was open her mouth and deliver them, but instead she heard herself say, “There is someone out there for you, Andrew. I’m sure of it.”

He returned her smile, faintly, but it was definitely there and it didn’t leave even as he turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. 

“Good night.”

“Night, love. I’ll call you in the morning.”

She nodded, and then she was gone. Andrew moved over to the spot where she had been sitting to watch her walking up the stairs. One hand pressed against the leather of the seat, he felt her warmth that still remained, felt his skin soaking it up to let it warm him from the inside. 

She had always possessed this power, to warm him up and thaw his heart, even though he had thought that this time it had frozen for good. But the second he had taken her hand in that pub—whatever had driven him to do so—he had known that all would be well eventually. It had been so right, so natural, to feel her like that, if only he would be brave enough to tell her. But he could never, not as long as there was even the slightest possibility she didn’t feel the same. Because more than loving her in secret, it would hurt to lose her forever. He would rather have her as a friend than not at all because for him, there was no life without her. 

There was no way he would ever tell her, but it was this exact truth that had ended his last relationship. Faced with the choice between her and anyone else in this world, it would always be her. No matter what. There had never been the tiniest chance he could have decided otherwise. 

And now he was surer than ever that he had made the right choice. Maybe this night had made him delirious, he still couldn’t tell. She had been so close, filling first his senses and then his mind with nothing but her until he had let himself believe that this could really be it. His life as it was supposed to be. For a second he had even imagined that she was leaning in, that she wanted to kiss him just as badly as he wanted to seal her lips with his. 

But even if she had, it was probably only pity speaking. Or worse, she might have thought that he needed a cheap substitute to drown his pain. And nothing could be further from the truth. He had almost been thankful for the bark that had interrupted them, without it he would never have found the strength to pull away and return her abrupt goodbye. Still, it was better this way. By morning he would have forced himself to forget about everything that could have been tonight, he would call her as he had promised and pretend that she didn’t hold his heart. It had always been like that. And it always would be. 

She had almost made it to the door by now. Her steps already slowing while she was fumbling for the keys in her bag. He didn’t know how hard it was for her to hurdle the remaining distance between herself and the door. Especially with all the tears clouding her gaze. She had felt them coming even before the taxi door had closed behind her. And so she hadn’t looked back, afraid he might see. And now that she had almost made it, she couldn’t even find those bloody keys in her stupid bag. 

It seemed like a miracle when she finally closed her hand around the cold metal to bring it to the dim light of the streetlamps. But her triumph had been too hasty, the keys gliding out of her slippery fingers and shattering onto the ground with an ugly clattering noise. 

The frustration set loose more tears, forcing her to fish around blindly for them and when she had finally managed to find them, she fumbled around equally clumsily to find the keyhole. Her only solace was that she had heard the taxi pull away while she had been hunching on the ground, so at least nobody had seen. He hadn’t seen.

“You know, I was wondering,” she jolted upon the unexpected voice, her keys hitting the ground once more as she turned around in a hurry to find him right in front of herself. “When you said someone— Are you crying?”

“No,” she promptly replied, but it was useless to deny the obvious, she realised, as her croaky voice sounded through the silence, fresh tears still burning hot on her cheeks. And Andrew being Andrew, he didn’t hesitate. In the blink of an eye he was there, gentle hands cupping her face and wiping away the salty streams. 

“Why are you crying, love?”

She didn’t answer, her throat sealed by a lump of fear. If she answered truthfully now, she would lose him. And she couldn’t, she mustn’t.

But he knew anyway. It was obvious from the way his forehead wrinkled and his eyes softened upon the realisation. She hadn’t expected the crooked smile though that slowly began to grace his lips. 

“I see.”

His lips were even softer than she could have ever imagined, moving so tenderly with hers. And even though this was happening so fast that she didn’t know if she was awake or dreaming, she felt herself relax in his arms. Letting go of all her worries was suddenly so easy. Everything was easy with him. 

[lets-try-some-writing]

Hail to the King: Snippet

Megatron intends to use Smokescreen to torture Optimus. How does he plan to go about this? Simple. Make him the very thing Optimus fears most.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You bucket helmed piece of slag! I won’t give you anything!” He struggles against his bindings, his wrists and ankles burning with the effort. He fought with all his might, trying to thrash. All it earned him were a few scuffs that ached with every movement. 

“Good. Then you will have more to give to your new master.” No no no. He wouldn't serve the Decepticons. He wouldn't give them anything, not even the color scheme of Optimus's windshield. 

“What?” His voice shook and his door wings, pressed awkwardly as they were against the slab, twitched in response to his growing fear. This wasn't what he was trained to handle. How could he fight against someone tampering with his processor? That sort of thing only happened before the war with the old Council of Cybertron.

“Optimus Prime, my ancient nemesis. He claimed he had no interest in claiming the Matrix. I remember quite vividly how he denied any desire to take it.” Megatron met his terrified gaze with a smirk worthy of Liege Maximo himself. Smokescreen could only watch in horror as Shockwave, now visible at the far corner of the room, prepared a series of needles and cords.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Keep him talking. If he could just keep Megatron talking, maybe he could still get out of this.

“Optimus claims he does not want to be seen as a god. He preaches that he is a mere mech, despite the relic he carries. He despises the worship of the faithful. Truly a humble mech to the bitter end.” Megatron's gaze felt like a hot iron against his plating. Smokescreen wanted to run, he wanted to phase through the walls and into the ground where it was safe. And yet, he could do nothing except shake faintly as Megatron circled him, his clawed digits running along the slab that bound Smokescreen in a threatening manner.

“And yet, he took the Matrix anyway. He never even considered stepping aside so that real change could be enacted. We all would have been so much better off if he’d put down his arrogance and allowed those more suitable to step up.” The screech of Megatron's claws tearing through metal assaulted Smokescreen's audials along with the sheer venom in his captor's voice. For a moment, he couldn't vent. He expected white hot pain to overwhelm him, but when he worked up the courage to look, he saw that Megatron's claws were dug into his slab, not his plating.

“He took a role he was never meant to fill, and now he heralds himself as a leader, a commander and vessel for ancient wisdom. And yet, he refuses to take responsibility for all he’s brought upon himself. He won’t accept the praise of the faithful like a good puppet Prime. But he also refuses to silence the whispers about his supposed divinity.” One by one, those claws pulled out of the slab, leaving terrifying gashes in their wake. Smokescreen had to fight back the urge to cry out in terror as Megatron's voice edged into something even darker. He was practically seething as he ranted. Smokescreen could hardly understand all of it.

“He stole a station he was never meant to take. Maybe he did it to spite me and is now too devoted to back down. Perhaps he truly thought, in his naivety, that he was better suited for the role. Whatever the case, I will abuse his humility. I will make him pay for taking the place that was rightfully mine.” Megatron's arms raised to the skies, almost as though he were preaching to a crowd. His back was to Smokescreen, but his words were still just as cruel and wicked. He spoke Iaconian common for Smokescreen's sake, but it was so heavily layered with Kaoni sub glyphs that Smokescreen could sense every last iota of emotion.

Megatron was truly bitter. It had been generations since the start of the war, and still Megatron was clinging to an ancient conflict. Smokescreen wouldn't dare claim to understand it all, but he knew for a fact that Optimus was a better Prime than the crazed warlord ranting before him. It didn't matter if Optimus got the Matrix through underhanded means, he'd long proven himself worthy of the title in Smokescreen's mind. The fact that Optimus refused worship merely showed his humility and devotion to the cause. He expected nothing, save for the cooperation of those around him.

A true Prime did not enslave. A true Prime was kind and commanded respect through actions, not words. Optimus didn't need to be worshiped. He had long since become a mech worthy of respect far exceeding the bounds of religious bindings.

“He will become the thing he sought to escape, and you, guardsmech, will be the key to all of it.” Smokescreen gawked as Shockwave began to gather up the cords he was working with. Megatron grinned in a convoluted fashion, almost as if he'd already won. What were they planning? What could they possibly want if not information?

“I won’t do anything for you! Never!” He thrashed against his bonds again. It did nothing but prompt Megatron to laugh.

“Struggle as much as you want. It will yield you nothing. In the end, you will make Optimus squirm and drown in his guilt.” Megatron stood like royalty, but to Smokescreen, he looked like nothing more than a mad ghoul eager for its next hunt. Smokescreen would rather die than betray his team and Prime. Whatever Megatron had planned, it could not be allowed to succeed.

“The patch is prepared, Lord Megatron.” Shockwave approached the Lord of the Decepticons, a threatening series of cables in his servo. Smokescreen could see a needle on the end of one, likely meant to stab directly into his processor. 

“Excellent. Begin uploading the simulation schematics. I want him fully engrossed in it until Optimus agrees to a conference.” A simulation? Were they going to try and turn him into a Con or something?

“Optimus won’t ever surrender to you!” He flailed, fighting desperately enough to tear his armor around his wrists as he fought to be free. He wouldn't become a weapon. He refused to become a tool for Megatron to use.

Despite how hard he tried to get away, it wasn't long before part of his slab was removed, leaving his helm exposed from the back. He tried to move, but he could do nothing except bite back a scream as something sharp and painful jabbed directly into the back of his helm. Coolant threatened to gather in his optics as his systems were thrown into overdrive, trying to find the source of the problem to little avail. All the while, Megatron continued his mad monologue.

“The Primes of old were heralded as gods. The Primacy was devoted to their every wish and fancy.” The warlord paced, his sickening smile still ever present. Smokescreen could feel a faint buzz at the back of his mind, the beginnings of the patch's work, no doubt.

“It is ancient history now, but before the war began, every Prime was given devotees who were meant to serve them.” Smokescreen's optics trailed the leader of the Decepticons, observing with growing horror how much emphasis Megatron put on the word 'serve'. Just what was Megatron hoping to make him into?

“Mecha personally trained to meet their Prime’s fancies.” No. No, Megatron couldn't be trying to change him. Information fishing was one thing. But changing his mind? 

“Warriors brought low through humiliation and submission so that their will could become an extension of their Prime.” This couldn't be happening. He wouldn't succumb to Megatron's twisted will. He had to keep himself composed. 

“The most loyal and submissive servants. Just the kind of subordinate Optimus fears and despises in equal measure.” Megatron loomed over him, his gaze knowing and expectant. Smokescreen wanted to spit curses, but everything was starting to feel fuzzy, almost as though he were drifting into recharge.

“He fears becoming corrupt if given such devotion.” Twisted laughter bubbled in Megatron's vocalizer. His amusement rang out in the air as Smokescreen frantically tried to keep coolant from gathering in his optics. He couldn't show how scared he was, even though his shaking door wings betrayed him.

“Let’s see if his fears become reality.” Red optics glared down at him, demanding results. Smokescreen wanted to cry. Torture, interrogation, suffering of all kinds, he could endure those. But changing his very core? His mind and his beliefs? How was he to withstand that?

[variety-fangirl]

My Saviour / Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 3 here

Summary: You finally get to Eddie's trailer for movie night, after the fight Andy and Eddie had at school, and you were determined to show Eddie how much you appreciate him and what he means to you.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS there's smut 😏 (unprotected p in v, female and male receiving oral, hand job, fingering, gentle mouth fucking, rough but passionate fucking/lovemaking, praise kink), swearing, mentions of fighting, blood and cuts. Lmk if I missed anything.

Authors note: I am so fucking sorry this took so long 😅�� I've had a bunch of requests, college homework to do, classes to attend, and personal shit happening so things got a bit hectic but It's finally done! (Also, a little writers block🥲) Thank you to anyone who waited patiently for this. I didn't intend for this to be as long as it is 😅 but I don't regret it. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out, thank you!

Word count: 3.7k

The drive to Eddie's trailer was short, which you were thankful for, you could spend some quality alone time together. You also needed to tend to Eddie's wounds, not wanting them to get infected, it was the least you could do for what he did for you. Part of you knew it was for himself also, he wanted to show he could defend himself and throw a punch. You had to admit, part of you had been slightly turned on by Eddie's actions, the way he had defended you and stopped Andy from touching you. It was hot, no one had ever stood up for you or put themselves in harm's way just to protect you in any sort of way before.

Having people disappoint and hurt you all your life made you grateful for those who didn't and treated you with only kindness, you appreciate those people so much more. Not that there were many but you loved them unconditionally. Eddie was at the top of that list, your favourite person in the world. He was already everything to you and that scared the fuck out of you, your life had been so much better since he'd been involved fully in such a small amount of time. You hated that you'd dragged him into your mess though, your life wasn't exactly easy right now with everything going on with your parents and Andy.

As you both enter his empty trailer, your mind was swimming with thoughts. "Where's your bathroom?" you wonder, turning to look at Eddie in question. He points to the right of the hallway, "there." he smiles. You nod and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers as you pull him with you to the bathroom. You open the dark wooden door and enter, leading Eddie to sit on the closed toilet seat as you look through the medicine cabinet for a first aid kit. You collect what you need, finding mostly everything you would need to clean Eddie up.

You pour some antibacterial onto cotton balls and turn to face Eddie who was waiting patiently, flashing you a saccharine smile as he noticed you staring. Now that you finally got a chance to look at him properly, you took in his appearance. Both knuckles were busted, bloody and cut, they looked painful. His lip was cut, only bleeding slightly, and he had a small cut on his cheekbone but that was about it, Andy had looked much worse than Eddie did. He got what he deserved, it was about time that someone taught him a lesson. He must be stewing angrily inside at this moment that Eddie "the freak" Munson beat the shit out of him in a fight, you felt proud of him.

You move closer to Eddie, holding his shoulder with your free hand to reach him better. You slotted yourself in between his open legs, your thighs touching his. The warmth radiating off him into you provided comforting safety. As gently as possible, you begin dabbing at his knuckles, earning a slight hiss from him. You wince, "sorry" you apologise, genuinely feeling horrible that you were causing him more pain than he probably already felt. After a few seconds, it didn't seem to phase him anymore thankfully. You continued wiping and dabbing as gently as you could until both knuckles were as clean and disinfected as possible.

You moved on to his face, starting with his cheek. You noticed Eddie moving his hands around a lot as if he didn't know where to put them. You stopped cleaning, putting the clean cotton ball down and grabbed his hands, placing them on either side of your waist. You pick the cotton back up and begin working on his cheekbone. As if testing his luck, Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. Your body shivers involuntarily at the sensation of his fingers holding you, digging into your skin in a good way. Goosebumps raised on your stomach and arms, a smile slipping onto your features. Eddie looked away with a smile of his own.

You placed the bloody cotton into the bin on the floor next to the toilet, discarded with the others. When you turn back to look at Eddie, he was already looking at you with a look you were unsure of. You both stared intensely into each other's eyes, a magnetic connection pulling you to one another. You decide to shoot your shot, hoping to not be rejected. Leaning in slowly, your lips gently touch Eddie's, testing the waters. You wrap your hands around his neck, lips moving in sync as Eddie's hands pull your waist into him.

You climb onto his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands exploring your body. Your hands work their way up to tangle themselves into his long soft brown curls, pulling on the hair slightly. Eddie groaned, his lips opening at the sensation, allowing you to slip your tongue in his mouth. A squeal of surprise escapes as you were suddenly picked up, your legs wrapped around his waist almost instantly. Eddie's hands move to cup your ass, keeping them there as he walks you to where you assume is his bedroom.

The kiss is only broken when your back lands on the bed with a gentle thump, both removing your shoes and socks before Eddie climbs on top of you. Reaching with your fingers, you pull at the bottom of his shirt, letting Eddie know you wanted it off. He chuckled but didn't say anything, pulling his shirt over his head and threw it on the floor somewhere. You didn't get a chance to look at him properly. His lips return to yours with need as his body slotted in between your legs, bodies pressed together. Eddie's lips began exploring, moving across your jaw and down to your neck. You gasp as his lips suck and kiss the sensitive skin, small moans escaping your open mouth.

You sit up and take your shirt and bra off, needing his lips to touch every inch of your skin possible. Goosebumps prickled at your exposed skin, despite the weather being warm. Eddie pulls back slightly to take you in, staring at you. "So beautiful" he smiled, his hands grabbing your breasts. You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment, it felt genuine coming from Eddie. You believed he actually meant it and that made your core wet. His lips attached to your nipple, his tongue licking and sucking the sensitive area as his hand played with the other.

He continued to work on your breasts, teasing you deliciously. Between every swipe from the rough pads of his fingertips, undoubtedly from years of playing the guitar. And with every wet flick and suck from his tongue, it drove you insane. You were an extremely patient woman but Eddie just seemed to pull a needy passion out of you that took over. You wanted, needed so much more. "Please Eddie," you whisper breathlessly, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Eddie groans and nods, happy that you wanted to go further with him. Eddie didn't think in a million years that you, the beautiful rich popular cheerleader, would want anything to do with him. It still shocked him every day when you wanted to be with him and around him. Small breaths and gasps leave you as his lips move their way down from your chest to the top of your jeans, his lips kissing gently at your hips as his fingers work at unbuttoning and pulling your jeans down your legs. Your underwear follows with your jeans, leaving you completely naked.

Your skin was hot, a trail of desire left in the wake of Eddie's downward path to where you needed him most. His fingers dragged down your wet slit, fingers instantly coated in your slick. You had never felt so turned on by someone barely doing anything before, you couldn't deny the romantic and sexual chemistry that was blooming between you more and more every day. Eddie replaced his fingers with his mouth, his lips and tongue attaching to your clit. You gasp, moaning loudly as you threw your head back. The pleasure was overwhelming, Eddie was a fast learner and picked up on your reactions and sounds quickly.

You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long soft dark curls, pulling slightly in your state of pleasure. You had craved for so long to have your fingers in his hair. Eddie groans deeply into your core, the vibration feeling odd but not bad. His mouth continued to lick and suck at your clit perfectly as he added a finger, enhancing the pleasure you were already feeling. You moan loudly with your mouth open wide, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you rock your hips to the rhythm he had set. The obscene noises that filled the otherwise quiet room as Eddie's fingers pumped in and out of you had you blushing profusely, they were dirty and wild.

"Oh fuck eds." you gasp, fingers continuing to pull at his strands and thighs tightening around his head more, both reactions involuntary, not that Eddie seemed to mind. You could already feel the knot beginning to form in your stomach, building and expanding with each passing second. Your breathing quickened, chest rising and falling rapidly and your moans became louder, all concern for neighbours out the window. Eddie could feel how close you were in the way that you clenched around his fingers, his mind imagining how you would feel clenching around his cock.

"Come for me, baby. Be a good girl for me." Eddie smiled, looking up at you with devious intent. You gasp, clenching harder around his fingers as the knot releases inside of you, exploding in a euphoric bliss that takes over your body with black and white stars that cloud your vision. Eddie works you through your high, only letting up when you laugh with a gasp and try to push his head away. He chuckles, begrudgingly moving away, placing one last kiss to your stomach before you were pulling him up to kiss you.

You felt an overwhelming need to please Eddie the way he had pleased you, to show him just how much you wanted him. To make him feel as good as you felt when he touched you, bringing you immense pleasure. More than Andy had ever, surpassing it by a long shot. Amid your tongues fighting for dominance, your hand reaches down to the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing them so you can slip your hand into his boxers. You wrap your hand around his warm leaking cock, slowly pumping him. "Fuuuuuuck baby" Eddie groans, forehead pressing against yours, eyes closing as a look of pleasure and bliss forms on his face.

"Take these off for me," you whisper almost breathlessly as you pull on his jeans and boxers, wanting to feel and see all of him. You wanted to appreciate his body, explore every dip, crevice, bump, and mark that covered him. Eddie gets off of you to stand next to his bed, pulling the last two articles of clothing he had left covering his glorious body from you. You watch with wide excited eyes as the fabric falls to the floor, his cock slaps against his stomach as it is finally released from its restraints. It had felt big but finally getting to see it was another story, it was huge.

You stare with intrigued eyes, mouth-watering with the need to taste him. The head of his cock was red and angry, precum leaking as the veins protruded visibly. "Like what you see sweetheart?" Eddie smirks as he climbs back on the bed, now laying on his back. You nod, "most definitely. Prettiest cock I've ever seen." you bite your lip once more as you climb on top of him. You notice red tinges creep up Eddie's cheeks at the comment, you had made Eddie Munson blush. You smile, finding him all the more attractive knowing that you affected him how he affected you. There was just something about a guy blushing that was extremely cute and insanely attractive at the same time.

Being on top allowed you to get a better look at Eddie as a whole, allowing you to admire his beauty and uniqueness. As you straddled his waist, staring down at him with admiration, you allowed yourself to explore him better. Your hands ran over his inked scarred skin, tracing every line and pattern, feeling every inch of skin that you could reach. He was imperfectly perfect, his tattoos and scars a part of him that made Eddie himself. "You're so beautiful," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear as your hands run down his chest to his torso, admiring his soft skin under your fingertips.

Eddie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to roughly kiss, which caused a loud surprised moan to escape. Mouths connecting in a frantic passion, eager for one another. Kissing Eddie was addicting, he was like a drug to you, fuelling you with the need and want for him at all times. Especially his lips on yours. "I should be saying that to you," Eddie whispered breathlessly as he pulled away, forehead against yours. You smile, pecking his lips a few times before answering, "you deserve compliments too. Your beauty is something definitely worth commenting on baby."

Kissing your way down his mouth to his jaw, placing soft but needy kisses all over. Following the contours of his skin down his neck to his chest, sucking gently on certain areas when Eddie would gasp. Eventually, you finally arrive at his crotch, having teased him enough. You pumped him slowly a few times, getting him ready as you lick the precum from the angry red leaking tip of his cock. Eddie moans loudly as you wrap your lips around the head, the salty taste instantly making you wet. "F-fuck baby." he groans breathlessly, head thrown back and mouth open wide.

You bob your head as you take him slowly inch by inch further down your throat each time, savouring every delicious bit of Eddie that you were allowed to take. Eddie was big, so big that you could only fit so much to the back of your throat, needing your hand to wrap around what you couldn't take. The sounds of Eddie's deep groans and his hand inching toward your hair had you wetter than ever before, causing a deep moan of your own to escape. You could feel the apprehension coming off Eddie in waves, so you helped him out. Grabbing his hand gently, you lead his hand to your hair, indicating for him to grip it.

You nod your head to let him know you're okay with it and keep going, picking your speed up slightly. "Okay, shit," Eddie replies breathlessly as he cups your hair in a ponytail, he was now able to get a better look at you sucking his cock. You were enjoying yourself, moaning like a mess at your actions. Tears fell down your cheeks, spit drooled down your chin and covered your hand. Eddie's moans were like music to your ears, it was one of the most beautiful and enjoyable sounds you'd ever heard, and would happily listen to them for the rest of your life.

You could feel Eddie's hips being to stiffen and shake as he gently fucked your throat, he was getting close and you were more than happy to give him release. You almost craved the taste of him, knowing you were the one to get him there. But Eddie had other plans, pulling you off him and up to straddle his waist. He notices you staring at him in confusion, "The first time I cum I want it to be inside you baby." he smiles, pulling you down to kiss him after you nod in understanding. Eddie's hands grab your face and neck, thumb gently stroking your cheek.

You squeal in surprise as Eddie flips you both over so he's now on top, not breaking the kiss once. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close, needing to feel his skin on yours. You feel Eddie line his cock up with your entrance, he looks to you for reassurance and agreement that it's okay. Your heart swells at his action, despite needing release from the built-up sexual tension, he still took the time to ask if it was okay and you knew he would stop if you said no or asked him to stop at any point. You nod, "please," you whisper needily.

The second Eddie entered you, you knew you were done for, that no one else would compare after this. Not that you wanted or would even think of anyone else, Eddie was it for you. You both moan loudly as Eddie slowly adds inch by inch into you until his hips are flush with yours, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. This gave him better access and allowed him to go slightly deeper, "Shit, you feel so good, baby," Eddie hissed, giving you time to adjust to him.

After a few moments, not very long, you gave Eddie the go-ahead to move. He began slowly to let you adjust to the size, not wanting to go too fast too soon and end up hurting you. The last thing Eddie would ever want to do is to hurt you, and you knew that. That was one thing you loved about him, he was the complete opposite of Andy, so kind and selfless. Andy had become cruel, careless, and callous in his actions with no regard for your feelings anymore, and yet, still tried to keep a hold on you. But not Eddie. Eddie was wonderful.

Eddie pressed his forehead against yours as he thrust in and out, setting a slow yet powerful pace. Each thrust forward had your skin slapping, knocking the breath out of you each time. It was intense and almost painful, the pressure unlike any other you'd felt, but it wasn't bad. You enjoyed every second and craved more, needed more. "Faster Eddie, please." you breathlessly plead, mouth open as yours and Eddie's breaths mix.

Eddie picks up the pace, setting a faster rhythm. The room was filled with the sound of breathing and moans, along with the lewd sounds of skin slapping and your obscene wetness. You had never been so wet in your life, your juices were flowing down your legs, no doubt wetting the mattress under you but neither seemed to care. "Your so wet baby, you feel so fucking good." Eddie groaned as he put his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the sweaty skin there. His hands held himself up so he wouldn't crush you with the force of his hips fucking you into the mattress.

"Holy shit!" you moan loudly, head thrown back. Your nails rake down the skin of Eddie's back, the pleasure overwhelming your body. Each thrust rubbed Eddie's pelvis against your clit, stimulating you just right. Your breathing increased considerably, almost pushing you over the edge. He could feel you tightening around his cock, "wait for me baby, I'm so close." you nod, pulling Eddie's head up to you so that you can kiss him, needing to feel his lips on yours. As you kiss, Eddie's finger moves to rub your clit, your whole body shaking from trying to hold off your orgasm.

You hold off as long as you possibly can, the pressure building to the point of being almost painful. Your moans turn to needy whimpers, not being able to stay still with all the pent-up pleasure. You were a shaking, breathless moaning mess by the time Eddie's hips started to shake and stutter, "come for me baby, come on my cock." Eddie groaned against your mouth, kissing you in a feverish passion. "Oh fuuuuuck!" He yells as you moan loudly, his hips slamming into yours one last time. You both let go, coming at the same time, making the moment even more intimate. Eddie works you both through your highs, forehead pressed against yours as his cum fills you.

You wince as Eddie pulls out, praying that the mixed fluid wouldn't get on the bed as you cross your legs. Eddie returns moments later, sitting next to you on the bed. He helps to clean you up, wiping you down with a warm cloth. He tosses it on the floor once done and gets onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his side immediately. You curl into Eddie earnestly, naked bodies now connected in more than one way. You snuggle your head into his chest as Eddie's arms wrap around your back, pulling you as tight as possible to him.

Eddie smiles as he too snuggles his head into yours, placing kisses into your hair. In that moment you could feel the 'L' word creep onto the tip of your tongue, begging to be let free. You'd never said it to anyone before, so the thought of saying it to someone who become so important to you in such a short amount of time terrified you. "Eddie?" you whisper tentatively, scared of how he would react. "Yeah?" you feel him shift as if to look at you. You bite your lip, "I've fallen for you. I love you." you say so quietly that you're unsure he even heard you. You could practically hear your heartbeat in your ears, your chest constricting at the thought of being rejected.

You turn your head to look at him and feel your heart drop at his reaction, his eyes were wide and mouth open, and he looked terrified. You clear your throat, "you don't have to say it back or anything, I know it's soon. I'm such an idiot, I shouldn't have said anything-" before you can say anything more Eddie's lips are against yours, you squeal in surprise but return the affection nonetheless, needing some comfort right now after being so vulnerable. Eddie pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, "I love you too, sweetheart. I mean, how can I not?"

You smile as you wrap your arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his long curly brown locks. You pull him gently to kiss once more, more softly and intimately this time as you both revel in the new shared confession of your feelings for one another.

[bl00dst41ned]

'*•.¸♡ love songs (trent edition) ♡¸.•*'

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader

summary: in which i describe a relationship with your favs using songs

author's note: in my trent phase right now he’s so munchable

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

how you guys meet

Bad (Remix) - Wale & Rihanna

The two of you met at a common friend's gathering. That said friend introduced you guys leading to you two getting to know one another. Though, after a couple of drinks, somehow, you ended up undressed on the bed with Trent, on top of you. This night made you two feel amazing. You and Trent were each going through a difficult phase in their lives and decided to relax in each other's arms.

how the relationship grew to become official

Au fond d'ma tête - PLK

Trent regretted not asking for your number before dropping you off. The passionate night you lot spent roamed in his mind rent-free. He could not focus during training, earning the laughs of his teammates and the annoyance of the coach. He finally decided to ask for your contact to your friend. After text messages and phone calls, he ended up asking you out on a date.

how to describe the relationship

Blinded By Your Grace, Pt 2 - Stormzy & MNEK

This relationship really feels like a safe space for the two of you. At the time, you and Trent got together, you two were going through it mentally. Trent had to face a lot of criticism that year and experience deep sadness. You helped Trent during this period of time as he did the same with you. You two, therefore, healed together and created a peaceful environment where you both felt secure and loved.

how is Trent in the relationship

Let Me Love You - Mario

Knowing your past, Trent always tried to make you feel loved by him, mostly by being present in your life and helping you go through every obstacle. Sometimes he felt frustrated by how much you could doubt him even though he tried to prove you otherwise all the time. But it never lasts too long, as he accepts that you need time to fully trust him.

how are you in the relationship

Adore You - Miley Cyrus

As said before, you received a lot of love in this relationship. It brought you the most happiness ever and changed how you approached things. He was everything you could wish for: someone who loved you, took care of you and was always there for you.

like, repost and suggest other male celebs (hope you enjoyed it)

masterlist for more

[heroloverangel]

Useful

Dad Mirio continues to live rent-free in my head 24/7

Sometimes you wonder if your husband is even human. It’s been almost two weeks since you gave birth, and Mirio’s barely let you lift a finger since you went into labor. He’s handled every diaper change, every late night feeding, and every chore around the house before you can even begin to sit up. He’s always had a ridiculous amount of energy, but it’s starting to border on manic at this point. You don’t know when he’s had the chance to sleep, it feels like he’s always ready to jump up in a rush to do anything he can for you.

You know most people would be thrilled to have a partner ready and waiting to serve their every need, but it’s getting a little overwhelming every time he gently shoos you away when you try to help wash dishes or fold the laundry. It’s not how he normally acts, and you decide to get to the bottom of this mystery sooner rather than later.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you hear Tomo crying from his crib at the end of your bed and Mirio’s instantly hopping up to fetch a bottle. “You go back to sleep, I got it,” he announces brightly, and you reach out to grab his arm before he leaves.

“No, let me get this one. I’m the one with the boobs,” you point out and he lets out a cheerful little laugh.

“You sure? I don’t mind-”

You use his stronger body for leverage to pull yourself up and then push him back down to the mattress. “Mirio, get some sleep. I can handle our kid for a whole twenty minutes, I swear.” He looks up at you for a second before his warm smile spreads across his face and he gives you an encouraging thumbs up. Picking your son up is the most exercise you’ve had in weeks, and you appreciate the familiar stretch from using your muscles as you carry the fussy baby out of the bedroom. Once settled on the couch, Tomo’s immediately placated when he latches onto your breast for a well-earned snack.

“Hey little guy, how’s it going?” He blinks up at you lazily, soothed by the sound of your voice and heartbeat beside him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Daddy right now, I promise he’s not usually this weird.” You laugh to yourself, remembering the first time you’d sparred with him in class and accidentally punched him in the crotch when he’d phased out of his clothes. “Alright, not this kind of weird.” You look down at those eyes you’ve been in love with since high school and sigh happily. Those Togata genes are just too strong, it would have been way more of a surprise if your child didn’t look so much like Mirio. You hum quietly as he drinks his fill, and it’s not long before he falls asleep cradled in your arms. Satisfied with a job well done, you sneak into the bedroom and carefully deposit him back into his crib with no complaints.

Mirio’s breathing evenly, but you can tell he’s still awake. “You did great, babe. He loves you so much.”

You cuddle against his chest and stare at him for a long moment. “Hey, Mirio? Are you, y’know, okay?”

His smile falters for a second before he brushes it off. “Yeah. Better than okay, I’m great!” You don’t respond and he glances away. “Why? What’s up?”

“You’ve just been, I don’t know, super restless since we came home. And it’s not like I don’t appreciate everything you’re doing, you’re amazing, but it feels like you don’t want me to help at all.”

He doesn’t respond at first, and you wonder if he’s going to avoid the question entirely. Finally he runs a hand through his messy hair and gives a frustrated sigh. “It’s not that. I guess I just feel kinda guilty.” You’re confused, and he makes himself continue. “I know I sort of torpedoed your spot in the rankings and I’ve always felt bad about that,” he admits, and that point is hard to argue. Your debut wasn’t as spectacular as his, but cracking into the top 150 in your first hero ranking was still an impressive achievement. Taking a long hiatus so soon into your career kicked you off the board entirely, to the point where a lot of fans don’t even realize Lemillion’s wife is also a hero on temporary leave. You’ve never held it against him, though; it took both of you to get you pregnant. Mirio clears his throat. “Then in the hospital, when they said you had to get a c-section, it was really awful to just stand there and do nothing while you had to go through all that.”

“There was nothing for you to do,” you reason with him and ruffle his hair. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingers.

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any better. I hate feeling so useless.”

It’s surprising to hear him admit that. “You’re not useless.”

“Maybe not, but it still feels that way.” His fingers wrap around yours and squeeze tightly. ��You’ve done so much already, so I figured it’s only fair if I do everything for awhile while you just relax.”

You sigh and free yourself to cup his face in your hands. “Mirio, we’re in this together. You couldn’t have the baby, but you were right there the entire time taking care of me. I was only able to handle all of it because I had you with me, and you know that’s not nothing.” You gaze over at Tomo, still fast asleep where you left him, and turn Mirio’s head to look at him. “You were the first person he ever met, and the first thing he got to see was how much you love him. There’s no way that could ever be useless.”

Before you can say anything else, you’re smothered in a sudden bear hug that knocks all the air from your lungs. “You’re right,” he sniffles with an enormous grin. “You know I’ve always been jealous of how much smarter you are.” With this weight lifted from his shoulders, it doesn’t take long for Mirio to drift off into a peaceful sleep. Your only regret is that you’re wrapped too tightly in his arms to escape to the bathroom for the next several hours.

[azazelsazaleas]

I finished watching through DS9 a few weeks ago and I’ve been meaning to do a rundown of my thoughts on it. Here goes:

- Oh my god that was fantastic. I really wish it’s given it a fair shake back when it was on the air; I was a dumb teenager who resented it for not being TNG and was going through a weird self-loathing phase where I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was the massive nerd that I am. This seriously lived up to the hype. I may have to do a TNG rewatch because this might just have upstaged it as my favorite 90s Trek.

- Andrew Robinson should’ve been made a full cast member. Ditto Max Grodenchik and Aaron Eisenberg.

- Damar’s transmission at the end of The Changing Face of Evil lives rent-free in my head. I cheered out loud at that.

- One thing the show did fantastically that a lot of other SF/fantasy properties don’t quite get right is that it lands a pitch-perfect balance of “these characters are major, important figures in the larger multinational conflict” and “this conflict is absolutely massive and not everything revolves around the same small group of people.” The fact that Sisko, Worf, Kira, Odo, et al are so important is entirely plausible and it never feels like the writers are trying to gratuitously bring everything back to them.

- That said, I kind of love that Admiral Ross’s leadership approach during the Dominion War eventually consists of doing whatever the hell Sisko tells him to do.

- God, the acting was incredible. Andrew Robinson, Armin Shimerman, Nana Visitor, Marc Alaimo, and Louise Fletcher were real standouts, but everyone was just so damned good.

- Actually, I really need to give special mention to Shimerman. The man went above and beyond to make Quark be something more than a joke character, despite how obvious it was that basically the entire production team wanted him to just be cartoonish comic relief. He worked harder to flesh out his character and show his race as a race of *people* (not just caricatures) than just about any actor playing an alien on Star Trek before him except for maybe Nimoy. Give the man a goddamn Emmy. Don’t believe me? Go rewatch the iconic root beer scene from The Way of the Warrior.

That said: I do have a few criticisms:

- Pretty much all of the (canon) romantic subplots were just…yikes. The only major exception I can think of Sisko/Yates, where they actually seemed to have a healthy dynamic, fall legitimately in love with each other, and generally treat each other like adults in a serious relationship, not bickering teenagers.

- Seriously, Worf/Jadzia got so hard to watch and then the fallout with Ezri was just ugggghhhhhhhhh stop please for the love of god

- Why did the writers need to try to romantically pair off all the female characters? Just, why?

- Kira had more sexual tension with that Romulan lady in half an episode than she did with any of her bucket-of-paint boyfriends over the course of seven years.

- I totally get the behind-the-seasons reasons why things panned out the way they did, but (hot take) I think Dax’s whole arc would’ve worked better if they had killed Jadzia off after the first season or two and brought in Ezri earlier. Jadzia was fun, but she was just too perfect to get many interesting stories and her relationship with Worf felt too much like manufactured drama. Having a trill who didn’t want to be joined, agreed to in a life or death emergency situation, and now has to reckon not only with taking on this symbiotic relationship with no preparation whatsoever but also succeeding this beloved person in the eyes of her loved ones is such a better setup for a character and it’s a pity we didn’t get to see that play out properly.

- Sisko deserved a better conclusion to his story. Give the man his damned house on Bajor and let him raise his kid with Kasidy. He’s more than earned it.

- Next time I rewatch the series, I’m skipping the mirror universe episodes and the ones with the genetically enhanced walking-90s-neurodivergent-stereotypes.

Other random thoughts:

- Dukat’s storyline should’ve ended with him getting killed at the end of Waltz. Either by Sisko, or by deluding himself so thoroughly that he does something suicidal. The pah-wraiths subplot felt like a lazy afterthought (except for the episode where he pretends to be Bajoran and starts fucking Kai Winn) and as much as I liked watching Marc Alaimo act, his story arc was basically over at the end of Sacrifice of Angels….which, incidentally is when Damar actually starts to get interesting.

- I loved the O’Brien must suffer episodes but I thought Hard Time was kind of overrated. Mostly for the plot line with the cellmate; I think I’m a little burned out on seeing stories that have a moral of “deep inside us is a line between humanity and savagery and when pushed to the limit, even the best of us would turn to murder.” It’s been done to death, and it’s really not truthful, at least for many people.

- I think I may have a little bit of a crush on Major Kira. It would never work out if I met someone like that in real life, though. I’m a laid-back, atheist, creative type; she’s a deeply devout former insurgent. Given certain real-life crushes I’ve had recently; maybe I’m just into strong women with big, expressive eyes who wear their hearts on their sleeve and have a spine made of fuckin’ steel. I have no idea what this says about me.

- MORN

- Favorite Episodes: In the Pale Moonlight, The Visitor, Improbable Cause/The Die is Cast, In Purgatory’s Shadow/By Inferno’s Light, In the Cards, Duet, The Wire, Civil Defense, The Magnificent Ferengi, basically the entire Dominion War arc.

[can-of-pringles]

Little Interruptions

Rating: Teen and up audience

Warnings: None really. Kissing, making out, it's a tad spicier than my usual work but it's really not that bad

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Peter and Marigold would really appreciate some alone time, except that might be more of a challenge than they thought.

Also Read on AO3

“Did she fall asleep easily?” Marigold whispered, looking up at Peter.

He had just finished putting Rosie to bed. He closed the girl’s bedroom door a bit, only leaving it open a crack. Looking through the small gap, he could see she had already fallen asleep, making Peter sigh in relief.

“Yeah, I think so. She looks asleep to me. And I only had to read her two books this time,” Peter answered.

He crept quietly over to where Marigold sat, practically tip-toeing in fear of waking his daughter up. Marigold sat in one of the big armchairs reading a book to unwind before bed. She turned a page before pausing her reading to speak.

“That’s good. She’s been sleeping so terribly lately… I don’t know what to do to help with her nightmares.” She frowned, furrowing her brows.

“Hey, it’ll be okay… I’m sure we’ll figure something out to help her, or she’ll grow out of it,” Peter assured. He placed his hands on Marigold’s shoulders, gently rubbing them.

She relaxed at his touch, leaning back slightly, and nearly forgetting the chapter of her book.

“Yeah, it’s probably a little phase. I went through the same thing when I was her age,” Marigold murmured. “But I’m just so tired of it. I need a break!” She huffed, tensing up again.

“Maybe we’ll finally get a break tonight,” Peter replied, trying to ease her mind.

“I hope you’re right… I just want some us time…” She sighed.

“That would definitely be nice.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

She thought to herself for a moment, allowing a small smile to show on her face. “Well, it looks like we have a break now… it would be a shame to let it go to waste.” Marigold whispered, turning slightly to look at him.

“You know what? I think you’re right.” He whispered back.

She grinned. “Yeah, as soon as I finish this page—”

Marigold gasped, dropping the book in surprise when Peter moved to pick her up out of the chair and hoisted her over his shoulder. “Peter! I said one more page!” She laughed.

“Sorry, what was that? All I heard was getting some us time.” He joked, carrying her to their bedroom.

Marigold continued to laugh, turning into a fit of giggles. She covered her mouth with her hand, attempting to muffle the laughter. He managed to shut their bedroom door behind them with his foot once they were inside.

“You’re so impatient.” She chuckled.

“Maybe so, but come on, we’ve earned this. And I didn’t want to wait another minute,”

Marigold felt him move his hands up from her thighs to her waist, and she giggled as he gently threw her onto their bed before he covered her body with his own. The brunette ran her fingers through his soft silvery hair as she kissed him. The moonlight coming from the window shone on his face and hair, causing the silver locks to look as if they were glowing. She pulled him closer, which should’ve been impossible considering how close they already were to each other.

Peter straddled her hips, keeping her in place under him. He slowly ran his hand along her upper thigh, then moved his fingers to her waist, then up to her ribs.

“You know I’m ticklish there.” Marigold chuckled. Before she could push his hand away, Peter caught her wrists with one hand and pinned them down.

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it.” He teased her.

“You jerk…” She muttered in a playful tone.

His lips left kisses, trailing down from her neck to her collarbone. She closed her eyes, feeling pure bliss.

“What am I going to do with you?” She chuckled and sighed.

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to think about it,” he murmured in between kisses.

“How can I think at a time like this…” Marigold whispered, mostly to herself.

His fingers slowly traced her skin again, leaving a ticklish goosebump feeling. All her nerves felt especially sensitive.

She tried holding back her quiet giggles but struggled to do so. “We need to be quiet! Or Rosie’s going to wake up! All that hard work of getting her to sleep will be for nothing!”

“I’m not the one who’s laughing. That sounds like a you problem.” Peter joked.

“You’re the one making me laugh.” She pointed out.

“I think I know how to fix that,”

He kissed her on the mouth, effectively silencing her laughter. She practically sank into the sweetness of his lips, letting out a sigh of contentment. Peter loosened his grip on her wrists, allowing her hands to be free once again. Marigold eagerly placed them on his waist.

“Your lips are really warm.” He whispered. "Soft..."

“Glad to hear it.”

Marigold’s lips trailed down, leaving kisses on his jaw. She slowly stuck her hands up his shirt, gently touching his back. Peter’s breath hitched at the sensation of her soft, cool hands.

Marigold’s heart beat quickly in her chest. She could feel the excitement. They had been waiting for a good chance to kiss. Kiss like this. It was worth the wait.

The precious moment they had been waiting for all this time was immediately cut short. A loud knock at the bedroom door made them jump, instantly pulling away from each other.

“Come in!” Marigold stammered, her heart racing, although out of shock rather than the previous reason.

The door flew open, revealing little Rosie standing there in the doorway. “I had a bad dream.” She whimpered, clutching on tight to her duck lovie.

“Another one, huh?” Peter said, regaining his calmness surprisingly.

The little girl nodded.

Marigold sighed in disappointment, hoping it just sounded like she was tired; though Rosie couldn’t tell the difference between the two, anyway.

“Alright, com’ere.” She patted a spot between her and Peter.

Rosie ran and climbed into bed, settling between her parents; who helped tuck her under the covers.

“Same bad dream?” Peter asked, brushing back the hair in Rosie’s eyes.

“I don’t remember. I don’t think so…” She frowned.

“We’ll get this figured out, okay? For now, whenever you get a really bad dream, you’re allowed to come into our room and stay with us. Just remember to always knock if the door is closed, like you did tonight, okay?” Marigold consoled her.

“Okay, Mommy,” Rosie mumbled. She held onto both of their hands.

Peter felt her tiny grip loosen after a bit. He looked over to see she had already fallen asleep.

He chuckled softly. “She’s cute when she sleeps.”

Marigold nodded, pulling up the comforter on her daughter’s sleeping form.

“Well, that was fun while it lasted.” She sighed.

“Yeah, once we fix her nightmare problems, I’m sure we’ll get more chances.” He gave her a sympathetic smile.

“I hope so,”

They shared a quick kiss and then went to bed, accepting the sleep they needed.

[mister-kisser]

Hey remember when I gushed about that columbo episode? forgotten lady? thats still my favorite episode, god damn i love it. but today marks the discovery of my least favorite episode, the first one i activley did not enjoy watching: Last Salute to the Commodore!

Where do I fucking begin. You can tell theres something off right off the bat, cuz it starts after the murder had already take place and the clean/cover up phase had begun. that wouldnt be too much of a bother, just perhaps leaving a little room for the viewer to speculate how it really went down. But it continues on a down hill trend. The guy who thought was the murderer ends up murdered halfway thru the episode. This also could have made for a cool switch up of the formula, a cool subversion of expectations that leaves the viewer puzzled. But it was not at all earned, and its so sudden. It just cuts to a shot of him dead, no build up. And when you find out who the actual murderer is, it still is not earned. There was no foreshadowing or hints that alluded to their true identity, nothing that you could pick up on a second watch through and clock as an allusion to the big reveal.

Usually when columbo is walkin himself or someone else through evidence, it makes sense, and makes you go "oooooooooo... good catch main". But instead every time those moments come up i go "dude what the FUCK are you talking about!" Instead of sounding like a deep thinker solving a puzzle, he sounds like a bumbling moron trying in vain to comorehend the simpliest of things.

And you know who directed this shit eater of an episode??? Patrick fucking McGoohan! etf dude!!! stick to acting, chuckle fuck!

And columbo felt so grabby the entire time, to the point where it made me uncomfortable. I felt bad for whoevers neck he had in his clutches at every moment. Theres this one seen where he leens up so close to this meditating girls head. I was expecting him to take a deep sniff and go "you smell beautiful my love...". Columbo shouldnt be creepy! He should be a bro! with some gay undertones sprinkled here and there! Fuck!

[cosimomarraffa]

Podcast with Kalpesh Raichura 𝕰𝖝𝖈𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Creating Winning Cultures and Mindsets; Pune

Homepage: https://calendly.com/connectquotient/connectcall 

Gift: https://www.connectquotient.com/

Academy: https://www.marraffatrainingacademy.de

Youtube Video: https://www.youtube.com/@marraffatrainingacademy

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…to download 6D's Skript, whatsapp to +49 1719430074

This is Cosimo Marraffa, Marraffa Training Academy and today we continue our session of podcasts. We have a special guest from India.

Kalpesh Raghura, just tell us, who are you and who are you from, what you're doing? Great, thank you everyone. Good morning and thank you Cosimo for having me here on this podcast.

My name is Kalpesh Raghura. I am a leadership coach. I hail from Pune, India and uh yeah that's that's who I am.

I've worked in the industry for about 27 years and currently I'm working with the senior corporate leaders helping them to create easy and flow into their lives.

So that's that's what I do. I have a beautiful wife and a 14 or 15 year old daughter and life is good.

Love it, uhm perfect. So uhm let's kick off this podcast with our first question we know all and we know uhm we appreciate our life and I love this incredible Jens style of appreciating everything, uhm but was there some crisis in the last time that you say oh this was a big thing for me that I could

overcome? Uh, I think it was not in the recent past for sure and not that I would say crisis but when I've gone through my phase uh and my corporate challenges uh for CMOS I think that this was uh way back in 2007 and uh you know the the whole thing was that I have somewhere always believed in ethics

and uh you know I always wanted to stand up by doing what's right and you know and refraining or not getting into something which is which is messy or or keep that out.

There was a situation in my career where you know there was something which was unethical happening in the particular business area that I was in and I was a junior.

I was I was reporting to leaders upwards and somewhere I thought I should stand by it. My voice felt and well that did not go the right way and you know it was a situation where either I go along with what's happening or you know I can make a call of what's good for myself and I made a choice to move

out of that audience. While I did that, I did have my own insecurities and I did have my own challenges of what will I do next, how will I go back into the industry, will I be accepted, not accepted, did I do it right, should I have a have not done it, a lot of those questions and those crisis ah you

know did rise up. But I think the what kept me going ah is my faith, my belief, I I I believe in the supreme power of the universe and I I knew what I was doing was right, so my gut somewhere was clear that no, what I did was appropriate and I don't fit along, I didn't fit along, you know what.

So that's that's why I was like a crisis or something that that put me and my family in a spot because you know you you you get into a situation where then you have to deal with what will you do for a career, how would you earn your bread and butter.

What will people say and those kind of things. So yeah, that's that's something that that's happened to Wow, thank you for sharing and for bringing this up and we are very very happy with you.

You had this thing that helped you to overcome your crisis and everybody who is used to come to this podcast knows about the six d's and if you are the first time on this podcast I will just uhm uhm start with a frame so you know what's what we are going to do right now and the podcast we frame it in

the six d's in the six d's we will ask now uh Kaypesh what's his big desire what he wants to decide about it how he formulates his declaration how he devotes to it how he develops how he updates and how his big picture is when he delivers his desire.

So let's kick this off and Karpush just tell us what is one of your big desires for the future for yourself for our listeners, for the world.

Thank you, thank you for asking that question. I love the way you put that structure of 6Ds and let me get started with the desire.

You know, way back in my career, when I was just in my 20s and I was starting to work, One of the things that I I learned and which probably I I associated myself with that was that any place you go, can you make that place better than it was before you stepped in there?

Now, it can be in regards to the physical ambience, it can be in regards to the aura, the energy, it can be in regards to the positiveness, it can be about the happiness.

So do it. And that's something that that got stuck with me. And hence, wherever I am going or whatever I am doing, my intention is, can I make that one percent better than what it was before I settled?

The philosophy or the desire that I have in this this this life? He said, yeah, I know, I am one of the eight billion people on this universe and with whatever things are happening, but can I make this entire experience one percent better for the people that I touch or the people that I work with?

or people that listen to me? And if I can make that one percent easier, one percent improvement, one percent of different perspective of looking at things or add that one dimension into their life, which can create a little more happiness, a little more healthy relationship.

A little more improvement in their own performance, I think I've achieved. Love it. Sounds very For me, as a European, sometimes we don't have I'm more focused on quality and on doing the right things and so this sounds to me something like yeah, wholeness for the whole community.

And the second D key question would be what's your decision you took to accomplish this? What decision do you suggest to a listener today who maybe thinks hey it's a good idea I wanna take this for my life?

So the decision that I took uh I think the biggest decision I took to CIMO was when I decided to move from the corporate world that I was in.

So I enjoyed my work, uh you know in my last organization that I was in I was handling the responsibility of managing the driving process management competency and business management competency for about 89,000 people.

So I was I was handling that role and position to to design, deliver, execute, control the entire spectrum for the entire TCS vehicle.

And during that entire cycle, the whole thought was if I am enjoying it doing within one organization, if I take this experience outside and look at contributing to the larger masses of people who are working with influencers, who can then take this experience to their organizations, I think that would

be a beautiful value add or a purpose to what I'm originally doing. And that's where about six years back, I stepped into leadership coaching and training.

And in the last six years of 1000 plus hours of coaching, I've trained about more than 10,000 senior professionals. And during that journey, the entire journey, my experience is, you know, rather than stressing them out and giving them larger pictures and this is what you got to do and you have to do

it. Can I just make it simpler? Okay, you know, what do you want to do? How do you want to do it?

What are the barriers? Can you work together to help you bridge those gaps? And yeah, some people might bridge that gap in 6 months, some people make it 2 years and that's okay.

We all have our races and we We all have our pieces and we run after them. I can't compete with somebody else and somebody else shouldn't compete with me.

So, so the decision is, is can I hand hold you? Can I be there to listen to you, guide you, mentor you, coach you?

When you need that the most, to excel or to move forward inch by inch in your journey. And I think that's the decision I've taken.

This is where I am. So all that I do right now is to look at enhancing that quality of life.

Enhancing that, that, that rhythm, that harmony, uh in your corporate, in your personal life, in your health, wherever it be, help you just move to the next level, move to the next level, move to the next level.

That's it. That's right. Okay. Wow. Interesting. Thank you for sharing. And the third D is about after you decided and you decide the declaration about it.

Company have this thing called mission statement or vision statement or what is your declaration about this desire you have? It may sound funny because you know but I will share this.

I don't have a very clear purpose statement or a vision statement or a mission statement. Uh I have tried making it many a times but but I I am still not very convinced with or I've not been able to frame that in one one line or two lines but I'll tell you I'll share what I'm clear about.

So, what I'm what I'm very clear with regards to my declaration and this is what I tell to people in my life or people that I work with.

I'm not I never give up on my place. All people are wrong. So, my biggest value or or mantra or karma or whatever you call it or the mission.

He said, I'll always stand by you. So, if you've been associated with me, whether in form of a friend, a relative, a client, a trainee, count me that I will always stand by you.

And I will never give up on you. So, my relationship with my people, with my clients does not begin and end with a contract.

It may start when we connect and we want to work with each other and then that remains. Yeah, of course, you may have an active contract, you may not have an active contract, but you reach out to me and you have something that you want to discuss about, I'm not going to say, okay, you know, this is what

I charge for, I will pay you first and then I'll come on top. No. You need my help. You need my help.

You need somebody to talk to. Alright, let's let's talk. And I've been blessed uh in so many years to see that you know, I didn't even realize of the things that I was making.

About two weeks back, I was sitting with my father and he's 77 years old and we were just having a family discussion over a cup of tea and some conversations happened Somebody had shared in the family on how having a conversation with me helped them save their relationship and my father, for the first

time in 77 years, he told me that he and he told my wife, you know, we know Kalpesh, he has saved so many relationships, so many lives that we don't even have a count about and I was shocked.

And then in that discussion, when it started coming out, there were so many instances that we could recollect, where how I stood for one of the cousins, how I stood for somebody in the family who was going through a tough time, how I could support one of my friends, how I could support team members when

I was in the organization. And there were so many of those instances where, you know, the the purpose of the vision that I'm sharing here, you know, I'll always stand by you.

It's like I'm there for you. If there's nobody else around, just turn back and look, I'm I'm still there. I'm, I'm blessed that I do not hold a graduating seminar.

I have, I've reached, or I've never had. I may have had arguments or decisions or some things that may have been like, not like, worked or not worked with people, but I think it was always known that this is in the best interest of of what we're doing at that time, but nothing personal.

And, and that space that, that clearly that I can create for people to be around with me, I think that's ah, that's my declaration.

That you connected with me, I'm always there with you. I'm always there and you can count on me. Thank you, thank you, I think that's nice.

So we are connected, we are connected with POSTCAST and I think at the end there will be some gift and maybe there is something we can really make this a reality.

The fourth D is about the devotion, the action steps we do. So what are your action steps and what do you suggest to the listeners to act on if this desire seems to be something they want to be, to do their own?

I think uh one of my biggest devotions with regards to this pose has, you know when I say that I'm available, it's not just a fancy thing to say.

Uh when I say I'm available, I know that people who've either called me or messaged me. I may have taken or not taken their call at that time, but I have always gotten back to them.

They know that even one missed call or one email is information that we've passed on to Kalpesh, it will come back.

So one of my biggest devotions or reactions is the way I have structured myself is where I make myself available, my time available, with whatever I am doing, I will always have that time to to go back and help and share out what you want to share or what you want to speak.

Uh so you know and and therefore the the kind of structure that I'm putting across the kind of work that I'm doing or the the way I I you know I think the way I take my assignments, I'm buffering all of this time that I've given to my people and if I've committed that I'm going to be with you, I'm going

to speak with you, most of the times I make sure I'm there and if I'm not there, there is an information or there is a reschedule that I do before I I do it or I don't do it.

So so that that devotion you know of that that way of scheduling myself or making myself The second thing that that I have done is a part of that devotion is any conversation that you're having with me to say no, I try and make sure that that's safe.

You experience a safe space for you to be open and honest, completely non-judgmental and completely non-threatening. So, the conversation that I've had many people in the first call, in the first session in last 15 minutes have been able to just open up about everything that they are dealing with, where

they are, you know, their ups and their lows. It doesn't always have to be the low part and something they're struggling with, but also the happiness, the accomplishments.

And they've shared that, you know, they really felt that connection. That being connected with you, where we could actually open up and share something that we've probably not felt comfortable sharing with anyone else, where people have shared about their personal achievement, their personal desires,

their dreams, their future that they Or maybe even their struggles, or their pains, or something that holds them back. Creating that safe space, non-judgmental, non-threatening, I think is the other thing that, that I've, I've learned, I've practiced, with all, all the skills and trainings that we do

, to ensure that, that's something that people experience. When they're, uh, uh, and yeah, maybe if, if I want to ask people as a takeaway, and if you can take away something, one of the most beautiful thing that I say, is the gift of listening.

If you're with your, your spouse, your children, your team members, your stakeholders, your bosses, your community people, be at church, be at home, wherever you are, can you give that gift of listening to the other person, in a holistic manner, where you're just not listening.

Listening while you're doing something on your mobile, or you're watching a game and you're listening to them, or you're reading a newspaper and you're talking to them, or you're thinking 10 different things in your head, while you're, while it seems that you're looking at them and talking to them, you

know, can you just be there, Okay. with that person, be it online, be it offline, be it on telephone, be it wherever, and give yourself, like give your listening to that person, because I think that's the biggest gift that that we can, we can give, and yeah, there is a gift which is coming by the act

of this podcast, and I'll share about more details by the end of this podcast. Love it, perfect, uhm, these action steps, they seem so perfect to me, uhm, and in reality, there is this, uhm, thing of never ending improving, or, uhm, developing, what's the fifth, uh, D, so how do you develop, how you,

do you update when you see, there is something new coming up that you, uhm, need to adapt, how do you bring this forward, what is your developed strategy?

Okay, Cosimo, I love what you said, you know, that there is never enough improvement, okay, I, I just revert saying that we are always evolving.

So, more than saying improvement because it sounds okay, I am not perfect the way I am and hence I need to improve, I just rephrase that, I am evolving, the ecosystem is evolving, the books that we read are evolving, the texts that we technology is evolving and hence we as human beings we evolve and

I am completely present that there is still a lot more that I need to evolve, right. So, current to keep doing this better, to keep doing this with more and more people, I don't go and do 10,000 different courses or read 5,000 different books.

What I do is in principle, if I have with one book to read. I will pick up one chapter, read that, if I have liked that chapter, I will look at what do I need to do in my life to actually implement that change.

Once I have done that. I, you know, tried, experimented, done that, I would move on to the second chapter. And, maybe if required, I will re-read that book for 10 times, till the time I am, I am like completely in sync with the values or with the learnings I want to take from that.

And, bring that into, into my, my life. Similar for some tech talks or some speakers that I may have heard.

I'll give you an example. One of the first books that I got introduced and I really fell in love with it.

What's the magic? The magic of thinking big. Again, I read this book for the first time when I was about twenty-four, twenty-five, which is about twenty-five years back.

I read that book and that's when I learnt about how do you bring that into your life. So, for example, the second chapter which which starts with, you know, talking about four different kind of excuses that people give.

The chapter's name is Excuseritis. And I learnt how to how different excuses, sometimes related to time, sometimes with help, sometimes with intelligence.

There's a different kind of excuses that we keep building around ourselves. And that's something that we build. I have tried to catch myself on which are the instances and for what are the reasons that I build excuses.

If I have to refine that, I mean in the world of positive intelligence coaching that I do, it's such a joy.

What are the judgments that I hold for myself, what are the reasons that I give when I can do something or I don't do something.

Can I look at getting myself above those excuses and take responsibility and accountability for what I am supposed to do?

Linking that to the corporate culture that I am working on at P**********, I work with senior leadership teams. You know there is one mantra which I tell them, on developing.

Can you develop a your culture into being proactive rather than being reactive? And if if you just develop the practice of being proactive rather than reactive, I think 90 to 95 percent of the stress levels that are there in the organization, 90 to 95 percent of people feeling that guilt or not going

into an open conversation or trying to hide information or or trying to just do a workaround will probably all go away.

Because if you assign some work to somebody and you can be proactive, do you have enough skills and competency and resources to deliver that open conversations?

If I want that to be done in a time frame of three days, do you think that's an enough time frame?

Do you have anything else which is on your plate that needs attention? Open conversation, proactiveness. The culture today, and at least which I have experienced with people that are adversaries, is always bombarding, oh you know what, I want this done, I want this done as soon as yesterday, I want this

executed right now. And in that, what what I've been dealing with is an experience of of of completely non-transparency. We don't know how the other person will deal with it.

We want to get our job done. And when that work is not done, you somewhere are yourself stressed because he's committed to somebody up there and the entire chain goes on.

So, as a development, maybe just try this and maybe this is for all our listeners. Look at being proactive rather than reactive.

Meet your relationship with your spouse, your children, your family members, your team members. Meet with regards to your performance. Meet with regards to your health.

You know, you probably are, you know, if you're not exercising enough, you're not eating the right kind of food, you're not taking the proper care of things that you need to take care of, okay, what can you do to be proactive rather than being reactive?

What are the areas of life that you're completely ignorant about? Can you do something proactive in that area? So when you, when we as individuals keep evolving ourselves from wanting to be proactive in as many areas as possible, not you don't have to do all of it at one go, if you try doing one piece

, by one piece, by one piece, you know that one percent mantra, you just do it one, one area where you'll be proactive, two areas where you'll be proactive, it suddenly starts seeing a lot of peace and harmony because you've been proactive about it.

And I think that's, that's my way of, of developing myself and my suggestion of how people can develop themselves. Interesting, interesting, thank you, thank you for sharing and we know the sixth deed deliver.

You are on your Kilimanjaro or whatever you see as your final desired goal. Can you share with us how you see yourself, how you see people around you, how you see the world at are at this really top of the mountain?

I'm going to take the liberty for Sima to answer that a little differently. Okay. You know, one of the things I read yesterday, last evening, uh I read it was a Buddha Purnima, you know, Buddhism and the learnings of Gautam Buddha, which are which are well known across the world.

And one of the things that is written in his uh in the in the history books and I was reading something yesterday.

Was the the entire root cause of all the suffering that is existing in in human life emerges from the craving, the desire.

So, hence, I don't know if I desire or if I want to stand at that place of saying that, okay, we know what to is there right now is not perfect and hence it should be like this.

I, I would probably want to just rephrase that to say, yeah, this is how it is right now. This is how people are right now.

There is workability in life because all of us are doing something which is keeping us moving and taking it to the next level.

Is there a scope to evolve and maybe do it in a way that leaves us little bit more peaceful, a little more ease and flow rather than being stressed about it?

Yeah, if that's a possibility, let's try it. So, yeah, I mean, how would I want the world to be? Yeah, can we have a little more peacefulness?

Can we have a little more ease and calm? Can we, can we start being a little more compassionate with each other?

So all the wars that are happening across the globe, not only the country wars, okay, the world wars. The wars within the family, the wars within a human being himself, every house has a story, every home has a story with, you know, it's working, it's not working, this is how it is, this is what you

should be doing, this is what you should not be doing, those, those You know, the, the, the, the, the whole, the whole experience of where people are starting to feel a lot more lonelier while they are a part of a social media, while they are a part of groups.

While they are, you know, doing a lot of networking, going to a lot of parties, and hence, the, the research says that a lot more people in this world have started experience, or are experiencing the feeling of being alone, you know, they are not there is nobody that they can connect to.

Ok got it, nothing wrong. That's how it is right now. Can we, can we look at it a little differently, can we do something, and using the whole DNS discernment, uh, learning, that, that shows up, and we, we learn from the positive intent with that.

Ok, let's take that scenario, look at what worked, what did not work, what do we do next? So, you beat your feeling of being lonely being there.

with the sense of belonging, with relationships, with health, with work, with career. Ok, what worked, what did not work, what do I do next?

And then try it out, if that doesn't work, all you do is go back to the same cycle. What worked, what did not work, what do you do next?

Maybe you try one time, five times, same time, twenty times. Here's, as somebody says, what's the right time to give up?

Maybe never. And, and in, here in, in one of sirs, the other ways I will put that, if I, if I have to put that in the pocket world, I tell my leaders that, if we move the entire organization, to me, to a result-oriented approach, rather than reason-oriented approach, I think we make the world a better

place to live. Because a lot of people today operate from reasons, so why they can't do a certain thing, why can't I do it?

Why can't play the bigger game? Why can't I generate a bigger business? Why can't I build relationships with people around the world?

Why can't I be heavy? There are reasons yet. What can I do to produce a result? If I can walk for a 5 km a day today, what can I do to walk for 5 km in 200 meters?

The 200 meters extra? If I can spend 30 minutes in my own learning, can I spend 35 minutes small, 3 to 1 extra page?

If I'm doing all these delivering things on time, ok, can I learn something more about delivering that on time? Can I, you know, if I'm taking 9 hours, maybe 8 and a half hours, centi-heater, soil, and it's respect to 15 minutes extra, then I can then sew.

I can maybe reflect. We don't need to, you know, hit the mountain one go. Can you do one piece by one piece by one piece by the office?

I think maybe that's the long answer to your short question. Thank you. How can we, how can we do it?

I appreciate it. I appreciate it. Absolutely having you a viewpoint. I think that's uh broadened the horizon for many of the listeners.

And uh, let's get to the gift. Tell us what is the final gift for this podcast for every listeners who uh stayed with us this time.

So, of course the first gift, um, which I would love to give people. I would not have to have thirty met conversation and maybe all about listen.

I want to give the gift of listening to all the audience who, who for this conversation, have reached the last.

I will share my calendar in a link with you and you can put that on your on the, on the text of the, of the podcast.

I'll be what is happy to listen to what's working for you, what, what is that you have to in life.

You know, where is it that, that you want to go? I am just curious. And I promise to. Be that safe space and I listen to you.

I promise there will be a non-check, a non-check for you to come with you. And that's my promise. That's my first step.

My second gift is service. You know from that, so what I spoke about being proactive and- moving from result-oriented to- from moving from reason-oriented to result-oriented, I've created a beautiful article which is uh- which is a four-ease framework of leadership within a specimen.

I'll absolutely hand that over as a gift for anybody who reaches out. More than happy to share, go out and make that change in- in the space in the world that you are in.

And I think that's the biggest contribution that I can make, you know. All I want in return is- is maybe a smiley thing.

Yeah, you know, I did it. Thank you. God bless you. Thank you. Can't wait to ask for your assessment and the- this document.

Kapesh, it was a privilege having you on the podcast. I wish you, your wife and your children all the best and can't wait to get in touch again.

DEUTSCH

Hier ist Cosimo Marraffa von der Marraffa Training Academy. Heute setzen wir unsere Podcast-Reihe fort. Wir haben einen besonderen Gast aus Indien.

Kalpesh Raghura, erzähl uns einfach, wer du bist, woher du kommst und was du machst. Großartig, vielen Dank an alle. Guten Morgen und danke, Cosimo, dass ich hier bei diesem Podcast dabei sein darf.

Mein Name ist Kalpesh Raghura. Ich bin ein Führungscoach. Ich komme aus Pune, Indien, und, ja, das ist, wer ich bin.

Ich arbeite seit rund 27 Jahren in der Branche und begleite derzeit die obersten Führungskräfte von Unternehmen dabei, ihr Leben einfacher und reibungsloser zu gestalten.

Das ist also, was ich mache. Ich habe eine wundervolle Frau und eine 14 oder 15 Jahre alte Tochter und das Leben ist schön.

Ich liebe es, ähm, perfekt. Also, ähm, lass uns diesen Podcast mit unserer ersten Frage beginnen. Wir wissen alles und wir wissen, ähm, wir schätzen unser Leben und ich liebe diesen unglaublichen Jens-Stil, alles zu schätzen, ähm, aber gab es in letzter Zeit eine Krise, bei der du sagst, oh, das war eine große Sache für mich, die ich konnte

überwunden? Äh, ich glaube, das war nicht in der jüngsten Vergangenheit, und ich würde nicht sagen, dass es eine Krise war, aber als ich meine Phase durchgemacht habe, äh, und meine unternehmerischen Herausforderungen äh für CMOS, ich glaube, das war äh, weit zurück im Jahr 2007, und äh, wissen Sie, die ganze Sache war, dass ich irgendwo immer an Ethik geglaubt habe

und, äh, wissen Sie, ich wollte immer für mich eintreten, indem ich das Richtige tue und, wissen Sie, mich zurückhalte oder mich nicht auf Dinge einlasse, die schmutzig sind oder so etwas draußen halten.

Es gab eine Situation in meiner Karriere, in der, wissen Sie, in dem speziellen Geschäftsbereich, in dem ich tätig war und in dem ich ein Junior war, etwas Unethisches passierte.

Ich habe den Vorgesetzten Bericht erstattet und dachte, ich sollte dazu stehen. Meine Stimme war nicht richtig, und wissen Sie, es war eine Situation, in der ich entweder mitmache, was passiert, oder ich kann selbst entscheiden, was für mich gut ist, und ich habe mich entschieden, weiterzumachen.

aus diesem Publikum. Während ich das tat, hatte ich meine eigenen Unsicherheiten und ich hatte meine eigenen Herausforderungen: Was werde ich als nächstes tun, wie werde ich in die Branche zurückkehren, werde ich akzeptiert, nicht akzeptiert, habe ich es richtig gemacht, hätte ich es tun sollen oder nicht, viele dieser Fragen und diese Krisen, ah, du

Ich weiß, es ist aufgegangen. Aber ich glaube, was mich weitermachen ließ, war mein Glaube, meine Überzeugung. Ich glaube an die höchste Macht des Universums und ich wusste, dass das, was ich tat, richtig war. Mein Bauchgefühl sagte mir also, dass das, was ich tat, angemessen war und dass ich nicht dazugehörte, ich passte nicht dazu, weißt du was.

Deshalb steckte ich in einer Art Krise oder so etwas, das mich und meine Familie in eine schwierige Lage brachte, weil man dann in eine Situation gerät, in der man sich mit der Frage auseinandersetzen muss, welche Karriere man machen will, wie man seinen Lebensunterhalt verdienen will.

Was werden die Leute sagen und solche Dinge. Also ja, das ist etwas, was passiert ist. Wow, danke, dass Sie das mit uns geteilt und angesprochen haben, und wir sind sehr, sehr glücklich mit Ihnen.

Du hattest diese Sache, die dir geholfen hat, deine Krise zu überwinden, und jeder, der diesen Podcast besucht, kennt die sechs D's, und wenn du das erste Mal bei diesem Podcast bist, werde ich einfach, ähm, ähm, mit einem Rahmen beginnen, damit du weißt, was wir jetzt tun werden, und in diesem Podcast rahmen wir es ein

die sechs D's in den sechs D's werden wir jetzt fragen, äh, Kaypesh, was ist sein großer Wunsch, was möchte er darüber entscheiden, wie formuliert er seine Erklärung, wie widmet er sich ihr, wie entwickelt er, wie aktualisiert er und wie sein Gesamtbild aussieht, wenn er seinen Wunsch äußert.

Lassen Sie uns also loslegen. Und Karpush, erzählen Sie uns einfach, was einer Ihrer größten Wünsche für die Zukunft ist – für sich selbst, für unsere Zuhörer, für die Welt.

Vielen Dank, vielen Dank, dass Sie diese Frage gestellt haben. Mir gefällt, wie Sie die 6D-Struktur dargestellt haben und mich mit dem Wunsch beginnen lassen.

Wissen Sie, damals in meiner Karriere, als ich gerade in meinen Zwanzigern war und zu arbeiten begann, war eines der Dinge, die ich gelernt habe und die ich wahrscheinlich mit mir in Verbindung gebracht habe, die Frage: Kann man jeden Ort, an den man geht, besser machen als ihn vor dem Betreten des Ortes?

Nun, es kann sich auf die physische Atmosphäre beziehen, es kann sich auf die Aura, die Energie beziehen, es kann sich auf die Positivität beziehen, es kann sich um das Glück handeln.

Also tu es. Und das ist etwas, das mir im Gedächtnis geblieben ist. Und daher ist meine Absicht, egal wohin ich gehe oder was ich tue, ob ich dieses eine Prozent besser machen kann als vor meiner Entscheidung.

Die Philosophie oder der Wunsch, den ich in diesem Leben habe? Er sagte: „Ja, ich weiß, ich bin einer von acht Milliarden Menschen in diesem Universum, und was auch immer geschieht, aber kann ich diese ganze Erfahrung für die Menschen, mit denen ich in Kontakt komme oder arbeite, um ein Prozent besser machen?“

oder Menschen, die mir zuhören? Und wenn ich dieses eine Prozent einfacher machen kann, ein Prozent Verbesserung, ein Prozent andere Sichtweise auf die Dinge oder diese eine Dimension in ihr Leben einbringen kann, kann das ein bisschen mehr Glück schaffen, eine etwas gesündere Beziehung.

Ich denke, ich habe eine kleine Verbesserung meiner eigenen Leistung erreicht. Ich liebe es. Klingt sehr. Für mich als Europäer ist es manchmal so, dass wir nicht alles richtig machen. Ich konzentriere mich mehr auf Qualität und darauf, die richtigen Dinge zu tun, und das klingt für mich irgendwie nach Ganzheitlichkeit für die gesamte Gemeinschaft.

Und die zweite D-Schlüsselfrage wäre: Welche Entscheidung haben Sie getroffen, um dies zu erreichen? Welche Entscheidung schlagen Sie einem Zuhörer heute vor, der vielleicht denkt: „Hey, das ist eine gute Idee, ich will das für mein Leben nehmen“?

Die wichtigste Entscheidung, die ich für CIMO getroffen habe, war, dass ich mich dazu entschloss, die Unternehmenswelt, in der ich tätig war, zu verlassen.

Mir hat meine Arbeit also Spaß gemacht. Wissen Sie, in meiner letzten Organisation war ich für die Verwaltung der Kompetenzen im Fahrprozessmanagement und der Geschäftsführung für etwa 89.000 Menschen verantwortlich.

Ich hatte also die Rolle und Position inne, das gesamte Spektrum des gesamten TCS-Fahrzeugs zu entwerfen, bereitzustellen, auszuführen und zu kontrollieren.

Und während des gesamten Zyklus war der ganze Gedanke, wenn ich es genieße, es innerhalb einer Organisation zu tun, wenn ich diese Erfahrung nach außen bringe und versuche, einen Beitrag zu den größeren Massen von Menschen zu leisten, die mit Influencern arbeiten, die diese Erfahrung dann in ihre Organisationen einbringen können, ich denke, das würde

ein schöner Mehrwert oder ein Sinn für das sein, was ich eigentlich mache. Und da bin ich vor etwa sechs Jahren in das Führungscoaching und -training eingestiegen.

Und in den letzten sechs Jahren habe ich über 1000 Stunden Coaching absolviert und über 10.000 leitende Fachkräfte geschult. Und während dieser Reise, der gesamten Reise, ist meine Erfahrung, wissen Sie, anstatt sie zu stressen und ihnen größere Bilder zu geben und ihnen zu sagen, das ist, was Sie tun müssen und was Sie tun müssen,

es. Kann ich es einfach einfacher machen? Okay, wissen Sie, was möchten Sie tun? Wie möchten Sie es tun?

Was sind die Hindernisse? Können Sie zusammenarbeiten, um diese Lücken zu überbrücken? Und ja, manche Leute schaffen diese Lücke vielleicht in 6 Monaten, andere in 2 Jahren, und das ist okay.

Wir alle haben unsere Rennen und wir alle haben unsere Teile und wir rennen ihnen hinterher. Ich kann nicht mit jemand anderem konkurrieren und jemand anderes sollte nicht mit mir konkurrieren.

Die Entscheidung lautet also: Kann ich Ihnen die Hand reichen? Kann ich für Sie da sein, um Ihnen zuzuhören, Sie zu führen, Ihnen als Mentor zur Seite zu stehen und Sie zu coachen?

Wenn Sie das am meisten brauchen, um sich hervorzutun oder um auf Ihrer Reise Stück für Stück voranzukommen. Und ich denke, das ist die Entscheidung, die ich getroffen habe.

Das ist mein derzeitiger Stand. Ich versuche derzeit nur, diese Lebensqualität zu verbessern.

Diesen Rhythmus und diese Harmonie in Ihrem Firmenleben, in Ihrem Privatleben, bei Ihrer Gesundheit oder wo auch immer zu verbessern, hilft Ihnen, die nächste Ebene zu erreichen, die nächste Ebene zu erreichen, die nächste Ebene zu erreichen.

Das ist es. Das stimmt. Okay. Wow. Interessant. Danke fürs Teilen. Und das dritte D handelt davon, was passiert, nachdem Sie sich entschieden haben und die Erklärung dazu abgegeben haben.

Unternehmen haben dieses sogenannte Leitbild oder Vision Statement, oder was ist Ihre Erklärung zu diesem Wunsch, den Sie haben? Es mag komisch klingen, weil Sie es wissen, aber ich werde es Ihnen mitteilen.

Ich habe keine sehr klare Absichtserklärung, Visionserklärung oder Missionserklärung. Ich habe oft versucht, eine zu formulieren, aber ich bin immer noch nicht sehr davon überzeugt oder konnte es nicht in ein oder zwei Zeilen fassen, aber ich werde Ihnen sagen, was mir klar ist.

Ich bin also in Bezug auf meine Erklärung sehr deutlich und sage dies auch den Menschen in meinem Leben oder mit denen ich arbeite.

Ich gebe meinen Platz nie auf. Alle Menschen liegen falsch. Also, mein größter Wert oder mein Mantra oder Karma oder wie auch immer Sie es nennen oder die Mission.

Er sagte: „Ich werde immer an Ihrer Seite stehen.“ Wenn Sie also mit mir in Verbindung standen, sei es als Freund, Verwandter, Kunde oder Praktikant, dann können Sie sich darauf verlassen, dass ich immer an Ihrer Seite stehe.

Und ich werde Sie niemals aufgeben. Meine Beziehung zu meinen Leuten, zu meinen Kunden beginnt und endet also nicht mit einem Vertrag.

Es kann beginnen, wenn wir uns verbinden und miteinander arbeiten wollen, und dann bleibt es so. Ja, natürlich, Sie haben vielleicht einen aktiven Vertrag, Sie haben vielleicht keinen aktiven Vertrag, aber Sie wenden sich an mich und haben etwas, worüber Sie sprechen möchten, und ich werde nicht sagen: „Okay, wissen Sie, das ist es, was

Ich bezahle, ich bezahle Sie zuerst und dann komme ich dazu. Nein. Sie brauchen meine Hilfe. Sie brauchen meine Hilfe.

Sie brauchen jemanden zum Reden. Also gut, lasst uns reden. Und ich hatte das Glück, in all den Jahren zu erkennen, dass ich mir der Dinge, die ich machte, gar nicht bewusst war.

Vor ungefähr zwei Wochen saß ich mit meinem Vater zusammen, er ist 77 Jahre alt, und wir hatten gerade eine Familiendiskussion bei einer Tasse Tee, und es kam zu einigen Gesprächen. Jemand in der Familie hatte erzählt, wie ein Gespräch mit mir ihnen geholfen hat, ihre Beziehung zu retten, und mein Vater, zum ersten Mal

Zum ersten Mal in 77 Jahren hat er mir das erzählt, und er hat es meiner Frau erzählt. Wissen Sie, wir kennen Kalpesh, er hat so viele Beziehungen gerettet, so viele Leben, dass wir nicht einmal wissen, wie viele es sind, und ich war schockiert.

Und dann, als es in dieser Diskussion herauskam, gab es so viele Fälle, an die wir uns erinnern konnten, wie ich für einen der Cousins einstand, wie ich für jemanden in der Familie einstand, der eine schwere Zeit durchmachte, wie ich einen meiner Freunde unterstützen konnte, wie ich Teammitglieder unterstützen konnte, wenn

Ich war in der Organisation. Und es gab so viele solcher Situationen, in denen der Sinn der Vision, die ich hier teile, klar war: Ich werde immer an Ihrer Seite stehen.

Es ist, als wäre ich für Sie da. Wenn sonst niemand da ist, drehen Sie sich einfach um und schauen Sie, ich bin immer noch da. Ich bin froh, dass ich kein Abschlussseminar abhalte.

Ich habe, ich habe es erreicht, oder ich hatte es nie. Ich hatte vielleicht Auseinandersetzungen oder Entscheidungen oder einige Dinge, die mit den Leuten funktioniert haben, nicht funktioniert haben oder nicht funktioniert haben, aber ich denke, es war immer klar, dass dies im besten Interesse dessen ist, was wir zu diesem Zeitpunkt tun, aber nichts Persönliches.

Und dieser Raum, den ich eindeutig für die Menschen schaffen kann, die mit mir zusammen sind, ist, glaube ich, mein Statement.

Dass du dich mit mir verbunden hast, ich bin immer bei dir. Ich bin immer da und du kannst auf mich zählen. Danke, danke, das finde ich schön.

Wir sind also verbunden, wir sind mit POSTCAST verbunden und ich denke, am Ende wird es ein Geschenk geben und vielleicht gibt es etwas, mit dem wir dies wirklich Wirklichkeit werden lassen können.

Das vierte D betrifft die Hingabe, die Handlungsschritte, die wir unternehmen. Was sind also Ihre Handlungsschritte und was schlagen Sie den Zuhörern vor, wenn dieser Wunsch etwas zu sein scheint, das sie selbst sein und tun möchten?

Ich glaube, eine meiner größten Hingaben in Bezug auf diese Pose ist, wissen Sie, wenn ich sage, dass ich verfügbar bin, ist das nicht nur so eine schöne Bemerkung.

Äh, wenn ich sage, dass ich verfügbar bin, weiß ich, dass die Leute, die mich angerufen oder mir eine Nachricht geschickt haben, ihren Anruf zu diesem Zeitpunkt vielleicht entgegengenommen haben oder auch nicht, aber ich habe mich immer bei ihnen gemeldet.

Sie wissen, dass selbst ein verpasster Anruf oder eine verpasste E-Mail Informationen sind, die wir an Kalpesh weitergegeben haben und die wieder zurückkommen.

Eine meiner größten Hingaben oder Reaktionen besteht in der Art und Weise, wie ich mich strukturiert habe: Ich stelle mich zur Verfügung, nehme mir meine Zeit, egal, was ich tue, ich werde immer die Zeit haben, zurückzugehen und zu helfen und mitzuteilen, was ich mitteilen oder sagen möchte.

Äh, also, wissen Sie, und daher die Art von Struktur, die ich der Art von Arbeit, die ich mache, verleihe, oder die Art, wie ich meine Aufgaben annehme, ich puffere die ganze Zeit, die ich meinen Leuten gegeben habe, und wenn ich zugesagt habe, dass ich bei Ihnen sein werde, werde ich

um mit Ihnen zu sprechen. Meistens stelle ich sicher, dass ich da bin, und wenn ich nicht da bin, gibt es eine Information oder eine Umplanung, die ich erledige, bevor ich es mache, oder ich mache es nicht.

Diese Hingabe, wissen Sie, diese Art, mich einzuplanen oder mir selbst etwas zu ermöglichen. Das Zweite, was ich getan habe und was Teil dieser Hingabe ist, ist, bei jedem Gespräch, das Sie mit mir führen, „Nein“ zu sagen. Ich versuche sicherzustellen, dass das sicher ist.

Sie erleben einen sicheren Raum, in dem Sie offen und ehrlich sein können, völlig wertfrei und völlig bedrohungsfrei. In dem Gespräch, das ich geführt habe, konnten sich viele Leute im ersten Anruf, in der ersten Sitzung, in den letzten 15 Minuten einfach über alles öffnen, womit sie sich beschäftigen, wo

Sie haben ihre Höhen und Tiefen. Es müssen nicht immer die Tiefpunkte sein und etwas, mit dem sie zu kämpfen haben, sondern auch das Glück und die Erfolge.

Und sie haben uns erzählt, dass sie diese Verbindung wirklich gespürt haben. Diese Verbindung mit Ihnen, bei der wir uns tatsächlich öffnen und etwas teilen konnten, was wir wahrscheinlich nicht gerne mit anderen geteilt hätten, bei der die Leute von ihren persönlichen Erfolgen, ihren persönlichen Wünschen erzählt haben,

ihre Träume, ihre Zukunft, die sie haben, oder vielleicht sogar ihre Kämpfe oder ihre Schmerzen oder etwas, das sie zurückhält. Diesen sicheren Raum zu schaffen, ohne zu urteilen, ohne zu bedrohen, ist meiner Meinung nach die andere Sache, die ich gelernt und geübt habe, mit all den Fähigkeiten und Trainings, die wir machen.

, um sicherzustellen, dass die Leute das erleben. Wenn sie, äh, äh, und ja, vielleicht, wenn ich die Leute etwas mitnehmen möchte und wenn Sie etwas mitnehmen können, ist eines der schönsten Dinge, die ich sage, die Gabe des Zuhörens.

Wenn Sie mit Ihrem Ehepartner, Ihren Kindern, Ihren Teammitgliedern, Ihren Stakeholdern, Ihren Chefs, den Menschen in Ihrer Gemeinde zusammen sind, in der Kirche sind, zu Hause sind oder wo auch immer Sie sind, können Sie das Geschenk machen, der anderen Person auf ganzheitliche Weise zuzuhören, wo Sie einfach nicht zuhören.

Zuhören, während Sie etwas auf Ihrem Handy tun, oder Sie sehen sich ein Spiel an und hören ihnen zu, oder Sie lesen eine Zeitung und sprechen mit ihnen, oder Sie denken 10 verschiedene Dinge in Ihrem Kopf, während Sie, während es scheint, als würden Sie sie ansehen und mit ihnen sprechen, Sie

wissen Sie, können Sie einfach für diese Person da sein, okay? Sei es online, sei es offline, sei es am Telefon, sei es wo auch immer, und sich selbst schenken, also dieser Person zuhören, denn ich denke, das ist das größte Geschenk, das wir machen können, und ja, es gibt ein Geschenk, das durch die Tat entsteht.

dieses Podcasts, und ich werde am Ende des Podcasts mehr Details dazu erzählen. Ich liebe es, perfekt, ähm, diese Handlungsschritte, sie scheinen mir so perfekt, ähm, und in Wirklichkeit gibt es diese, ähm, Sache der nie endenden Verbesserung, oder, ähm, Entwicklung, was ist das fünfte, ähm, D, also wie entwickelt man sich, wie man,

machst du ein Update, wenn du siehst, da kommt was Neues, was du, ähm, anpassen musst, wie bringst du das voran, was ist deine entwickelte Strategie?

Okay, Cosimo, mir gefällt, was du gesagt hast, weißt du, dass es nie genug Verbesserungen geben kann. Okay, ich antworte einfach darauf, dass wir uns immer weiterentwickeln.

Anstatt also von Verbesserung zu sprechen, weil es okay klingt, ich bin nicht perfekt, so wie ich bin, und muss mich daher verbessern, formuliere ich das einfach anders: Ich entwickle mich, das Ökosystem entwickelt sich, die Bücher, die wir lesen, entwickeln sich, die Texte, die wir als Technologie verwenden, entwickeln sich, und daher entwickeln wir uns als Menschen weiter und

Ich bin mir völlig darüber im Klaren, dass ich mich noch viel weiterentwickeln muss. Um das also weiterhin besser zu machen und mit immer mehr Menschen zu tun, besuche ich nicht 10.000 verschiedene Kurse oder lese 5.000 verschiedene Bücher.

Was ich im Prinzip mache, ist Folgendes: Wenn ich ein Buch zu lesen habe, nehme ich mir ein Kapitel vor, lese es und wenn mir das Kapitel gefallen hat, schaue ich mir an, was ich in meinem Leben tun muss, um diese Veränderung tatsächlich umzusetzen.

Sobald ich das getan habe, also alles ausprobiert, experimentiert und getan habe, gehe ich zum zweiten Kapitel über. Und wenn nötig, lese ich das Buch vielleicht zehnmal erneut, bis ich mit den Werten oder den Erkenntnissen, die ich daraus ziehen möchte, vollkommen im Einklang bin.

Und bringe das in mein Leben. Ähnliches gilt für einige Tech-Talks oder Redner, die ich vielleicht gehört habe.

Ich gebe Ihnen ein Beispiel: Es war eines der ersten Bücher, die ich zu Gesicht bekam, und ich habe mich sofort darin verliebt.

Was ist die Magie? Die Magie des großen Denkens. Ich habe dieses Buch zum ersten Mal gelesen, als ich etwa vierundzwanzig oder fünfundzwanzig war, also vor ungefähr fünfundzwanzig Jahren.

Ich habe das Buch gelesen und dabei gelernt, wie man das in sein Leben integrieren kann. So beginnt beispielsweise das zweite Kapitel damit, dass es um vier verschiedene Arten von Ausreden geht, die Menschen vorbringen.

Der Name des Kapitels lautet „Excuseritis“. Und ich habe gelernt, wie man verschiedene Ausreden findet, manchmal zeitbezogen, manchmal mit Hilfe, manchmal mit Intelligenz.

Es gibt verschiedene Arten von Ausreden, die wir uns ständig einfallen lassen. Und das ist etwas, das wir uns einfallen lassen. Ich habe versucht, mir selbst bewusst zu machen, in welchen Fällen und aus welchen Gründen ich Ausreden einführe.

Wenn ich das verfeinern muss, dann ist das in der Welt des positiven Intelligenz-Coachings, in der ich arbeite, eine wahre Freude.

Welche Urteile fälle ich über mich selbst, welche Gründe gebe ich an, wenn ich etwas tun kann oder wenn ich etwas nicht tue.

Kann ich über diese Ausreden hinwegkommen und Verantwortung für das übernehmen, was ich tun soll?

In Verbindung mit der Unternehmenskultur, an der ich bei P********** arbeite, arbeite ich mit Führungsteams. Wissen Sie, es gibt ein Mantra, das ich ihnen verrate: Entwicklung.

Können Sie Ihre Kultur dahingehend entwickeln, dass Sie proaktiv statt reaktiv sind? Und wenn Sie einfach die Praxis entwickeln, proaktiv statt reaktiv zu sein, denke ich, dass 90 bis 95 Prozent des Stressniveaus, das in der Organisation herrscht, 90 bis 95 Prozent der Menschen, die dieses Schuldgefühl haben oder nicht gehen,

in ein offenes Gespräch zu verwickeln, Informationen zu verbergen oder einfach einen Workaround zu finden, wird sich wahrscheinlich alles lösen.

Denn wenn Sie jemandem eine Aufgabe zuweisen und proaktiv vorgehen können, verfügen Sie dann über genügend Fähigkeiten, Kompetenzen und Ressourcen, um offene Gespräche zu führen?

Wenn ich möchte, dass dies in einem Zeitraum von drei Tagen erledigt wird, halten Sie das für einen ausreichenden Zeitraum?

Haben Sie noch etwas anderes auf dem Tisch, das Ihre Aufmerksamkeit erfordert? Offene Gespräche, Eigeninitiative. Die heutige Kultur, und zumindest das, was ich mit Leuten erlebt habe, die Gegner sind, bombardiert einen immer mit „Oh, weißt du was, ich will das erledigt haben, ich will das so schnell wie möglich erledigt haben, ich will das

gerade ausgeführt. Und dabei habe ich es mit einer Erfahrung der völligen Intransparenz zu tun. Wir wissen nicht, wie die andere Person damit umgehen wird.

Wir wollen unsere Arbeit erledigen. Und wenn diese Arbeit nicht erledigt ist, sind Sie irgendwo selbst gestresst, weil er sich jemandem dort oben verpflichtet hat und die gesamte Kette geht weiter.

Versuchen Sie es also als Weiterentwicklung vielleicht einfach mal mit Folgendem, und vielleicht ist das für alle unsere Zuhörer gedacht. Versuchen Sie, proaktiv statt reaktiv zu sein.

Achten Sie auf Ihre Beziehung zu Ihrem Ehepartner, Ihren Kindern, Ihren Familienmitgliedern, Ihren Teammitgliedern. Achten Sie auf Ihre Leistung. Achten Sie auf Ihre Gesundheit.

Wissen Sie, das ist wahrscheinlich so, wenn Sie sich nicht ausreichend bewegen, sich nicht richtig ernähren und sich nicht richtig um die Dinge kümmern, um die Sie sich kümmern müssen, okay, was können Sie tun, um proaktiv statt reaktiv zu sein?

In welchen Lebensbereichen sind Sie völlig unwissend? Können Sie in diesem Bereich etwas proaktiv tun? Wenn wir uns als Individuen also ständig weiterentwickeln und in so vielen Bereichen wie möglich proaktiv sein wollen, müssen Sie nicht alles auf einmal tun, sondern versuchen, ein Stück zu machen.

, Stück für Stück, Sie kennen das Ein-Prozent-Mantra, Sie tun es einfach in einem Bereich, in zwei Bereichen, in denen Sie proaktiv sind, und plötzlich stellt sich viel Frieden und Harmonie ein, weil Sie proaktiv vorgegangen sind.

Und ich denke, das ist meine Art, mich weiterzuentwickeln, und mein Vorschlag, wie sich Menschen weiterentwickeln können. Interessant, interessant, danke, danke fürs Teilen, und wir wissen, dass die sechste Tat erbracht wird.

Sie sind auf dem Kilimandscharo oder was auch immer Sie als Ihr endgültiges Ziel betrachten. Können Sie uns erzählen, wie Sie sich selbst, die Menschen um Sie herum und die Welt sehen, wenn Sie sich auf diesem Gipfel befinden?

Ich werde mir die Freiheit nehmen, dass Sima das ein wenig anders beantwortet. Okay. Wissen Sie, eines der Dinge, die ich gestern, gestern Abend gelesen habe, äh, ich habe es gelesen, war Buddha Purnima, wissen Sie, Buddhismus und die Lehren von Gautam Buddha, die auf der ganzen Welt bekannt sind.

Und eines der Dinge, die in seinen, äh, in den Geschichtsbüchern geschrieben stehen, und ich habe gestern etwas davon gelesen.

Die eigentliche Ursache allen Leidens im menschlichen Leben liegt im Verlangen, im Begehren.

Daher weiß ich nicht, ob ich den Wunsch habe oder will, an dem Punkt zu stehen, an dem ich sagen kann: „Okay, wir wissen, dass das, was jetzt da ist, nicht perfekt ist und deshalb so sein sollte.“

Ich würde das wahrscheinlich einfach umformulieren und sagen: „Ja, so ist es im Moment. So sind die Menschen im Moment.“

Das Leben ist machbar, denn wir alle tun etwas, das uns in Bewegung hält und auf die nächste Ebene bringt.

Gibt es einen Spielraum, uns weiterzuentwickeln und dies vielleicht auf eine Weise zu tun, die uns etwas friedvoller, entspannter und fließender macht, anstatt uns darüber zu stressen?

Ja, wenn das möglich ist, dann lasst es uns versuchen. Also, ja, ich meine, wie möchte ich, dass die Welt ist? Ja, können wir ein bisschen mehr Frieden haben?

Können wir etwas gelassener und gelassener sein? Können wir anfangen, etwas mitfühlender miteinander umzugehen?

Also all die Kriege, die auf der ganzen Welt stattfinden, nicht nur die Länderkriege, okay, die Weltkriege. Die Kriege innerhalb der Familie, die Kriege innerhalb eines Menschen selbst, jedes Haus hat eine Geschichte, jedes Zuhause hat eine Geschichte mit, wissen Sie, es funktioniert, es funktioniert nicht, so ist es, das ist, was Sie

tun sollten, das ist es, was Sie nicht tun sollten, das, das. Sie wissen schon, die, die, die, die, die ganze, die ganze Erfahrung, dass die Leute anfangen, sich viel einsamer zu fühlen, wenn sie Teil eines sozialen Netzwerks sind, wenn sie Teil von Gruppen sind.

Sie knüpfen zwar viele Kontakte, gehen auf viele Partys, und daher haben laut der Forschung viel mehr Menschen auf der Welt das Gefühl, allein zu sein, oder erleben es gerade, weil sie niemanden haben, mit dem sie Kontakt aufnehmen können.

Ok, verstanden, nichts falsch. So ist es im Moment. Können wir es ein wenig anders betrachten, können wir etwas tun und die ganze DNS-Unterscheidung nutzen, äh, lernen, dass das auftaucht, und wir, wir lernen damit aus der positiven Absicht.

Ok, nehmen wir dieses Szenario und schauen uns an, was funktioniert hat, was nicht funktioniert hat, was wir als nächstes tun. So haben Sie Ihr Gefühl der Einsamkeit überwunden, wenn Sie dort sind.

mit dem Zugehörigkeitsgefühl, mit Beziehungen, mit der Gesundheit, mit der Arbeit, mit der Karriere. Ok, was hat funktioniert, was hat nicht funktioniert, was mache ich als nächstes?

Und dann probieren Sie es aus. Wenn es nicht funktioniert, kehren Sie einfach zum gleichen Zyklus zurück. Was hat funktioniert, was hat nicht funktioniert, was machen Sie als Nächstes?

Vielleicht versuchen Sie es einmal, fünfmal, zur selben Zeit, zwanzigmal. Wie jemand sagt: „Wann ist der richtige Zeitpunkt aufzugeben?“

Vielleicht nie. Und, und hier, in einer der anderen Möglichkeiten, wie ich das ausdrücken werde, Sir, wenn ich das in die Tasche stecken muss, sage ich meinen Führungskräften, dass, wenn wir die gesamte Organisation, für mich, zu einem ergebnisorientierten Ansatz bewegen, anstatt zu einem vernunftorientierten Ansatz, ich denke, wir machen die Welt zu einem besseren

Ort zum Leben. Denn viele Menschen handeln heute aus Gründen, also warum sie eine bestimmte Sache nicht tun können, warum kann ich es nicht tun?

Warum kann ich nicht das größere Spiel spielen? Warum kann ich kein größeres Geschäft aufbauen? Warum kann ich keine Beziehungen zu Menschen auf der ganzen Welt aufbauen?

Warum kann ich nicht schwer sein? Es gibt noch Gründe. Was kann ich tun, um ein Ergebnis zu erzielen? Wenn ich heute 5 km pro Tag laufen kann, was kann ich tun, um 5 km in 200 Metern zu laufen?

Die 200 Meter extra? Wenn ich 30 Minuten für mein eigenes Lernen aufwenden kann, kann ich dann 35 Minuten klein aufwenden, 3 bis 1 zusätzliche Seite?

Wenn ich all diese Dinge pünktlich liefere, ok, kann ich dann noch etwas darüber lernen, wie man das pünktlich liefert? Kann ich, wissen Sie, wenn ich 9 Stunden, vielleicht 8,5 Stunden, Erde brauche, und das sind ungefähr 15 Minuten extra, dann kann ich nähen.

Ich kann vielleicht nachdenken. Wir müssen den Berg nicht auf einmal erklimmen. Können Sie das im Büro Stück für Stück erledigen?

Ich denke, das ist vielleicht die ausführliche Antwort auf Ihre kurze Frage. Danke. Wie können wir das machen?

Ich weiß das zu schätzen. Ich weiß das zu schätzen. Absolut, dass Sie Ihren Standpunkt vertreten. Ich denke, das hat den Horizont vieler Zuhörer erweitert.

Und, äh, kommen wir zum Geschenk. Sagen Sie uns, was das Abschlussgeschenk dieses Podcasts für alle Zuhörer ist, die dieses Mal bei uns geblieben sind.

Das erste Geschenk, das ich den Leuten gerne machen würde, wäre natürlich, dass ich nicht dreißig Minuten lang ein Gespräch führen müsste und es sich vielleicht nur ums Zuhören drehen würde.

Ich möchte allen Zuhörern, die bis zum Schluss an diesem Gespräch teilgenommen haben, das Geschenk machen, zuzuhören.

Ich werde meinen Kalender in einem Link mit Ihnen teilen und Sie können ihn in den Text des Podcasts einfügen.

Ich höre Ihnen gerne zu, was bei Ihnen funktioniert und was Sie im Leben tun müssen.

Wissen Sie, wohin Sie wollen? Ich bin einfach neugierig. Und das verspreche ich. Seien Sie dieser sichere Ort und ich höre Ihnen zu.

Ich verspreche, dass es eine Nicht-Kontrolle geben wird, eine Nicht-Kontrolle für dich, die mit dir kommt. Und das ist mein Versprechen. Das ist mein erster Schritt.

Meine zweite Gabe ist der Dienst. Sie wissen, dass ich, was ich über proaktives Handeln und den Übergang von der Ergebnisorientierung zur Ergebnisorientierung gesagt habe, einen wunderschönen Artikel verfasst habe, der ein vierstufiges Führungsmodell innerhalb eines Musters darstellt.

Ich werde das auf jeden Fall jedem schenken, der sich meldet. Ich teile es gern, geh raus und bewirkliche diese Veränderung in dem Raum auf der Welt, in dem du dich befindest.

Und ich glaube, das ist der größte Beitrag, den ich leisten kann. Das Einzige, was ich als Gegenleistung will, ist vielleicht ein Smiley.

Ja, wissen Sie, ich habe es geschafft. Danke. Gott segne Sie. Danke. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, Sie um Ihre Einschätzung und das Dokument zu bitten.

Kapesh, es war mir eine Ehre, Sie im Podcast zu haben. Ich wünsche Ihnen, Ihrer Frau und Ihren Kindern alles Gute und kann es kaum erwarten, wieder mit Ihnen in Kontakt zu treten.

[eolewyn1010]

Dragging Frankenstein - Chapter 22

Woe is Victor!

In the process of his being a fainting damsel, Shelley’s brilliance shines through. I’m sure Cantor’s essay emphasized this part, too: “I abhorred the face of man. Oh, not abhorred! they were my brethren, my fellow beings, and I felt attracted even to the most repulsive among them [exception being, obviously, the one he made himself] as to creatures of angelic nature and celestial mechanism [something he firmly denies in the Creature’s nature, acknowledging his own failure in the role of God]. But I felt that I had no right to share their intercourse [I’m counting this, just for the word he uses].” DAS GAY: 38

But snark aside, this is so damn good, esp. in context. How he takes the viewpoint the Creature has taken before him, how he can’t see himself as part of humanity anymore. Nice. Gimme.

Of course, Victor has to ruin it by whining incessantly that his father just doesn’t understand him! It’s not a phase, Dad! IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 29

“How little do you know me.” Wonder whose fault that is. “Human beings […] would indeed be degraded if such a wretch as I felt pride.” Made me laugh. As if Victor ever felt pride in his life. Nah, not him. He’s a very humble one. “Justine was as innocent as I” *splutters* …exCUSE me??? Justine was ten times more innocent than you even in your best of times! There’s the hatred again. Twat.

His father is mollycoddling him, and my God, it’s really not kind of Frankenstein sr. to wed off Elizabeth, his precious adoptive daughter, to someone who is verifiably and obviously mentally unstable. Can’t you just betroth her to Ernest instead? As things look, Victor will rather land in a madhouse anyway, so it’s not like he’ll be of much use as an heir.

Of course, he also demonstrates where Victor got his upbringing. “If I don’t talk of the Bad Thing That Happened, it will just go away with no consequences!” These people, man.

Elizabeth’s letter is… really something. “My friend, my cousin” – I was just waiting for her to add “my brother” to it. INCEST VIBES: 16

Apparently, another YEAR has passed since he left Geneva. It’s astounding; time is fleeting. Madness takes its toll…~

Elizabeth brings up the quasi-sibling issue, only to then confirm that she’s game to marry him, earning her another of the INCEST VIBES: 17

She also thinks he was preoccupied with thoughts of someone else he loved, while he was preoccupied with thoughts about the Creature, which, LOL. Gets him the usual double. DAS GAY: 39

INCEST VIBES: 18

I promise, I’m almost done, but I have to give another count for this sentence: “bound in honor to fulfil the wishes of your parents although they opposed themselves to your inclinations.” o.O Inclinations? Did she write it that way on purpose?? Tell me she wrote that on purpose. DAS GAY: 40

Good on Elizabeth for not wanting to be an unloved Beard, tho.

Victor gets back into whining how his wedding night will be his death. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 30

For reasons I cannot fathom, he chooses the word “consummate” instead of “commit” for the crimes the Creature will do onto him. *raises eyebrow* I know I said I was done, but… INCEST VIBES: 19

DAS GAY: 41

And lest we forget anything, he also plays with the notion again that he could indeed defeat the Creature. DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR: 17

Dumbass.

Then he remembers it’s been at least five seconds since he pissed me off with his class conceit, and rectifies that. “What freedom? Such as the peasant enjoys when his family have been massacred before his eyes, his cottage burnt, his lands laid waste, and he is turned adrift, homeless, penniless, alone, but free. Such would be my liberty except that in my Elizabeth I possessed a treasure.” I SO PRIVILEGED: 16

I gave him a double for that, one for the “oh, I’m like a peasant who lost literally everything, except that I still have a gorgeous fiancée and an estate full of riches waiting” and one for referring to Elizabeth as his property again. Get bent, Victor.

“paradisiacal dreams of love and joy, but the apple was already eaten” – Fair enough; that’s the Paradise Lost reference again, but it falls flat here, because the one thing Adam and Eve didn’t lose when they were cast out of paradise was each other. That’s the beautiful thing of the story, that they carried their love out into the world with them and built a life on it, something that Victor proves time and again to be both unable and unwilling to do. If Elizabeth is his Eve, he’s been failing her all this time, long before her death.

“he would surely find other, and perhaps more dreadful, means of revenge” – He thinks this and then still doesn’t reach the conclusion that someone Not Him might be at risk. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 31

Wonder if this count will catch up with the gay count before the end of the book.

…well, maybe not, because he ties the “with you on your wedding night” to the loss of Clerval immediately afterwards, which makes me think that the Creature prevented two marital unions here. DAS GAY: 42

“I will confide this tale of misery and terror to you the day after our marriage shall take place.” Heh. Sure you will. Subtle foreshadowing there, Shelley.

He seriously has the balls to comment on how Elizabeth isn’t glowing with charm and vivacity anymore. SHE HAS A DEPRESSION, YOU SHALLOW BITCH! And now she has to be his security blanket, Jesus Christ, this poor woman.

“But death was no evil to me if the loss of Elizabeth were balanced with it” -.- Okay, now it’s getting stupid. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 32

He makes me laugh a little when he says, “I shut up, as well as I could […]” It’s not very well, honey. But this is all so cruel to poor Elizabeth. She knows he’s faking it, she sees he’s not the least bit interested in this wedding.

But hey, at least he’s gaining some more possessions via her heritage when he marries her! This is Important Information!

“I carried pistols and a dagger constantly about me” – Pfft. Somewhere in the distance, Bill is snorting with laughter.

Victor’s momentary happiness takes the form of a flowery travel guide again, and then the bitch goes and PISSES. ME. OFF. “You are sorrowful, my love. Ah! if you knew what I have suffered, and what I may yet endure, you would endeavour to let me taste the quiet and freedom from despair that this one day at least permits me to enjoy.” … *inhales, clears throat* Count? IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 33

Now, with this settled… AAAAAARRRRRRGGGHHHH! *takes knife and stabs Victor repeatedly* YOU INCREDIBLE PIECE OF SHIT! YOU COULDN’T BE ARSED TO BE A LITTLE ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT YOUR WEDDING, AND NOW YOU GET ON HER CASE FOR NOT BEING ALL SUNSHINE AND DAISIES FOR YOUR BENEFIT!! YOU SERIOUSLY CHASTISE HER FOR NOT SETTING UP A BRIGHT ENOUGH SMILE?? AFTER ALL SHE HAS BEEN THROUGH, YOU CAN STILL TALK ONLY ABOUT YOUR SUFFERINGS, AND YOUR COMFORT, AND YOUR NEED FOR AN OVERJOYOUS PIECE OF DECOR BY YOUR SIDE?? YOU NEVER BOTHERED TO BE KIND TO CHEER HER UP, YOU LOUSY–

*sits down, catches breath, wipes knife* Anyway.

“Something whispers to me not to depend too much on the prospect” – yeah, damn right, girl. You can’t depend on this marriage, and you sure as hell can’t depend on this guy.

More pretty landscape, and then the calm before the storm ends the chapter on a foreboding note. Here’s looking forward to the last few people being removed from Victor’s miserable presence.