#have you ever had a shit manager who couldn't be bothered to read through two paragraphs to understand a complex issue?

[shinysoroka]

You're literally just making up a guy to get mad at.

Nobody is saying "convenience is bad because something something degradation of human spirit". What they are saying is that there are no shortcuts to developing a skill at a decent level and if you want to do that, you will sometimes have to struggle through the difficult or boring parts. Outsourcing that part of the process for the sake of convenience is counterproductive because you're not solving the problem you're struggling with, just punting it to GenAI. Which guarantees that you'll become dependent on it. Which isn't good for anyone except Sam Altman.

Also, holy shit, even if those things were 100 percent reliable for synthesizing information, why on Earth would you want to use them in education especially? The whole point of getting an education is processing the material and understanding it yourself. If you could plug your homework into ChatGPT and it gave you the correct answer every time, it still would be bad.

every time i see a post about not using chatgpt or other LLMs for work/school that boils down to 'convenience is morally wrong and desiring it degrades the entire human race' rather than 'these things fabricate details and are not reliable tools for synthesizing information' i lose another year off of my life

[kunikinnie]

Hiii! How are you? Hope you are well! I was searching through Fukuzawa X reader's tag and I saw your headcanons for "accidently hurting their SO" and it was soooo cute!! Are your requests open, by any chance? If they are, is there any chance you could write headcanons with the same prompt, but with Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa and Atsushi? If they are not, just know that you are a great writer and I just loved your work!!

a/n: HELLO I'M ALIVE! sorry these SO LONG but here they are :) some of them might be ooc but ahkdjsf also if you're curious i was reading Spinning Gears while writing Aku's so ye

warnings: profanity, mentions of violence, blood, very angsty for some, probably ooc

accidentally hurting their s/o during an argument

featuring: Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa, Atsushi x GN!Reader

Dazai Osamu

There was something uncertain that stirred something deep within him - something he couldn't bring himself to face.

It could've been anything: the staleness of the air, the lingering aftertaste of the shitty coffee he had that morning, an intrusive thought he left uncontrolled, the sadness of the setting sun...

Not knowing the source bothered him. It bothered him so much that although words were flying exasperatedly throughout the room, he had regressed into his own mind.

It was the wrong move. He had underestimated how powerful the darkness was, and as it continued to grow like a whirlpool, he was swallowed into an ocean of abandoned thoughts.

He hadn't felt like this in years. Memories and voices from those times reverberated so strongly that nothing from the current moment could touch him. He didn't even have any idea what was happening.

Yet just a single phrase had managed to penetrate, and as soon as it hit it had triggered something despicable.

It was the silence that followed that snapped him out of it, not the stinging sensation at the back of his hand.

You slowly slumped down the wall and onto the floor. Not for a single moment did your stunned expression or blank eyes waver - in your silent tears flowed the last drops of your energy.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. Why were you apologizing? It was he who had done wrong, so why-

"Y/N..." he weakly called out, only to be met with another apology.

"Y/N, I'm sorry..."

He fell down to his knees before tightly embracing your whole body. He apologized once more, yet you didn't even stir. Another attempt amounted to nothing. Desperate to feel something from you, his grasp on you tightened further.

"Y/N, I love you-"

How many times had he said that? Countless times at this point, countless. Each and every one was as genuine as it could get - he hoped you knew that - yet none of them seemed to reach the same level of sincerity and regret to those declarations of those moments.

For all the eloquent speech this man had cultivated over the years, there he was, repeating the same three words over and over again - each iteration once more getting twice as desperate - until finally your hand grasped his shirt.

He could still feel your tears flowing freely, but at least you relaxed somewhat, letting him relax somewhat as well.

"I love you too," you weakly replied. "I love you so much... idiot..."

No words were exchanged after that; perhaps none were needed, or rather none existed that could fill in that need. The whole night he never let you go - not even once - as you two reconciled in each other's presence in silence.

Nakahara Chuuya

It's no secret that Chuuya's temper was more volatile than his favorite wine. Depite that, however, he doesn't let his emotions get the better him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made it this far in the mafia hierarchy.

Today was different. The stressful events of the week left him with hardly any room to breathe, and an argument at home was the last thing he needed.

"Can't you handle that shit yourself, Y/N?!"

He knew that you knew that there were times, such as now, when he should not be approached. So why were you here, being more insistent than ever?

The tone of your voice was already rubbing off of him, and you just had to-

"Fucking hell-"

Without thinking, he kicked the chair beside him. The poor thing managed to take most of his anger, but a piece of debris had unfortunately broken off and flew, hitting you squarely on the face.

It was in such unbelievably perfect timing that Chuuya thought at first his mind had come this stupid situation until he heard your scoff clearly.

"What the-"

Before you could process what had happened, he ran to you and grabbed you into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N."

You just stood there, still confused. Your forehead stung a bit, but it was nothing compared to the warmth you were enveloped in all of the sudden. You had expected a raging anger and frustration from Chuuya but it just... disappeared.

"Shit- I really didn't mean to, Y/N. I'm sorry-"

Were you relieved to hear that from him? Sure, a bit. But what about the fury that was all-consuming just a while ago? What were you to do with that?

Your silent rumination only unsettled him more. If he clueless as to what you were thinking, he would be just as lost as with what to do.

"Let's go over it again, okay? I'm not going to get mad this time."

More than the chair, it was his words that he flung at you that upset him the most now that he was sober from his emotions.

"I swear I won't get mad. So talk to me. Please. Y/N-"

He was vigorously but gently shaking your shoulder all the while, hoping to get something from you.

And he finally did - but a loud laugh was not what he expected.

"This is so stupid."

It was his turn to be confused. Yes, it was stupid - stupid of him to have done any of that - but he had no idea what you meant by that.

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in his neck. "I mean - a flying piece of broken chair? Really?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N-"

"I'm also sorry," you finally said calmly. "I knew you've been stressed recently, but I-"

"It's still my fault. It ain't your fault."

"No. It's mine."

"The heck are you saying?"

You stared at him again, pouting this time yet barely able to contain your laughter.

"Tsk. We are not going to fight over this," he answered playfully.

As quickly as the tension built so did it dissipate - a feature of most of your quarrels that the two of you were grateful to have.

You embraced him tightly once more. "I'm so lucky to have you, Chuuya."

Although you couldn't see his face, you could feel his smile spread. "Same here."

"I love you, Chuuya."

He loosened his grip on you before kissing you on the forehead. "I love you too."

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

You both knew this would happen eventually. Yet that didn't make things any easier when it did.

The rage had blinded him instantly; he didn't even realize it happen. Within a split second there was a reddish-black flash and a small familiar gasp.

The scent of blood triggered such a vivid vision for him. You had fallen to the floor soundlessly, and there you were lying lifelessly. It was a vision he'd seen many times before - in lucid moments, in delirium, oftentimes in his sleep.

It couldn't be real this time... could it? By instinct, he covered his right eye with his hand. There he still saw the same bloody scene, while on the left eye he saw that there was nothing in front of him: no pool of blood and no motionless corpse. But as what always happened when he tried to disillusion himself, a headache then formed.

Only letting himself relax a bit, Akutagawa began to slowly look for you. He was sure there was blood spilled - although his eyes failed him, his nose never did. The same goes for all his other senses, it seemed, and so he let those four lead them to you.

He landed in front of a mahogany door. The sobbing and shuffling were unmistakable to him despite the thickness of the wood muffling the sounds significantly. He carefully approached and knocked on it lightly before calling out your name.

"Y/N...?"

The whimpering did not stop in the slightest, shaking him further. What if you weren't actually there and his hearing became unreliable as well?

"Y/N, please answer. I need to know you're there..."

His eyes saw fresh blood ooze out of the gap between the door and the floor. No. There was nothing there; his nose and fingers confirmed it. Shit. His delusions were getting worse even if both of his eyes were closed.

"Y/N, please... forgive me-"

There was no way you could, he thought. You shouldn't, you wouldn't, and if it was true that he had hurt you let alone kill you, then he wouldn't forgive himself either.

The gentle creak of the door jolted him despite how soft and slow you opened the door. He was met by a disheveled and tear-stricken you, blood slowly dripping down from your left arm. So many words flashed by in his vision but the only one that came out of his lips was your name.

"Y/N..."

His hand slowly reached for you - although where it aimed to touch it had no idea - as he waited for any sign from you to stop. You seemed fine with it, and his fingers ended up softly landing on the wound. It was just a graze, fortunately, however the bleeding was still continuous.

He unleashed Rashoumon to wrap and put pressure on the wound. "We should get you to a hospital," he said in a low and gentle voice.

You two wordlessly walked to the nearest clinic, almost wordlessly had your wound treated, and just as silently went back home. The entire time his still persistent headache throbbed along with the worries of what exactly it was you were thinking then. How could you still be okay with this? Or were you already planning to leave him then and there? If that was the best for you, then he had no choice than to accept it.

"Ryuu..." It was so affectionate that he thought he was delusional again. "How's your headache?"

His eyes widened at your words. How did you notice that? "It's not so terrible," he replied weakly. Really, it should be him asking how you were.

"That's good."

Before you entered your own room, he pulled on your other arm (gently) to explain himself. His delusions have been getting worse, that's why his instincts targeted you in his anger. That's what happened, wasn't it? But making such excuses was for weak men, and weak as he may be he couldn't bring himself to waste your sanity any further. He decided to apologize, but he ended up staring intensely into your eyes the entire time.

"It's alright. It's really alright."

"It isn't," he quickly asserted. "And it won't happen again."

Your smile, although weak from that night's endeavors, seemed genuine enough to him. It truly must have been real with the way it somehow subsided his headache. Still, it wasn't enough to wipe away the guilt.

And so he had decided to sleep on the couch: a preemptive measure and act of penance. But it wasn't like he could actually sleep after what happened. Most likely he would've spent the entire night reflecting on the incident and on ways to make it up to you.

"What are you doing?" There was a mix of curiosity, confusion, and amusement in your voice. "I've been waiting for you."

Without waiting for him to reply, you pulled on his arm and dragged him to bed. Your arms then wrapped themselves tightly on his waist.

"...isn't it dangerous? I might hurt you again." He was referring to his dreams affecting his physical sleeping, but his mind had pinned a larger meaning to it.

"You might," you answered nonchalantly. "But knowing you, it would never be intentional."

The gentle weight of your head on his chest had always soothed him. "You trust me too much."

"I do. It's because I love you too much, you know?"

You heard a small scoff, but even if you couldn't see his face you knew it accompanied a small smile.

"I don't know how rough you're having it right now, but please know that my love for you is real... just as I know your love for me is real."

Oh, if only you knew how much those words mattered to him- no. It would be too much.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered as he embraced you tighter.

"I love you too." You then snuggled deeper into his chest. "Good night, Ryuu. Sweet dreams."

Nakajima Atsushi

Atsushi was always afraid that he'd hurt you some way or the other, and so he was always extremely careful with anything that involved you. Even in arguments he did his best to collect himself (not that he got THAT angry anyway - most of the time he just becomes sad) and not break down in front of you spontaneously.

That's why he wasn't sure why he got so worked up this time. Perhaps everything has just been overwhelming recently and you getting angry at him was simply the final straw. Was he truly such a failure at everything to everyone?!

He was grasping a glass of milk to drink and calm himself when the frustration rushed through his blood. His grip tightened and shattered the glass, spilling liquid, shards, and blood everywhere.

Of course, you somehow quickly remained level-headed and tried to attend to his injury.

"Wait let me see your-"

As soon as your hand grazed his, he swatted it away with great force. Leave me alone, it screamed, and you heard the message loud and clear. Too clear, perhaps, since you took a few steps back to counter the impact.

Your silent and intense stare was what brought him out of it. Just the idea of hitting you, let alone that powerfully, was just so unimaginable to him that he began to break down.

It must've been the tiger's uncontrollable strength again - it's always been that. Whenever he loses control himself it's that wild beast that takes over, causing Atsushi to commit acts of savergy.

But there was no ability at that moment. There was no tiger. There was nothing to blame it on, except himself. By instinct, he retreated to himself and fell to the floor, staring at nothing in particular.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, I didn't know what I was thinking-"

His stammering and shivering were so intense - it was unlike anything you've seen before. Apology after apology came, but did the complete opposite of relieving you.

You slowly approached him, wondering if you should try and touch him again. Usually your gentle shoulder rubs were enough to calm him down.

"Atsushi...?"

More than being hurt once again, you were more afraid that he'd regressed into that place again.

You tried to snap him out of it slowly: gently talking to him, reassuring him, trying to convince him that you weren't going anywhere despite what happened and will happen.

And by some miracle it worked. His tear-stricken eyes met yours, and the softness in them finally returned.

"Are you okay?" You asked once more.

"Y-yeah, I'm fi- No, wait. Are you okay?"

His hand instinctively shot up to check your hand and arm, but it stopped right before it grazed your skin. What the heck was thinking, trying to grab you right after that?

"Oh, don't worry too much. I'm fine. There's no wound and it probably won't bruise."

Atsushi wanted to breathe easily after hearing you say that but there was more to the question that needed answering. Thankfully, you caught on quickly.

"I swear, I'm fine." You smiled at him again and gently pat his head. "You've apologized enough. So let's just clean up this mess, okay?"

Before you could even attempt to stand up, he practically grabbed you and squeezed your whole being as he buried his head in your neck.

"Thank you, Y/N." He whispered before hugging you even tighter. "I love you so, so much. I promise I'll do better next time."

You returned the gesture. Awgh. How much your heart swelled despite what happened. "I love you too, Atsushi."

Taglist: @stygianoir, @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @kunikida-simp

[quakerjoe]

I managed to click on a real piece of shit. Naturally I replied:

"You skipped biology and science classes, didn't you? Or did they just not have them when you went? Science has made many discoveries since your old 1950's era textbooks. Of them, that the subject of gender is a broad spectrum and actually NOT as simple as you seem to believe it is. I'd cite you some sources, but honestly, mate; I don't believe for an instant you'd bother reading about it. You seem like just another JK Rowling sort of mouthpiece who has zero interest in looking beyond what you're comfortable with.

Let me clue you in on one tiny point in regards to this topic- The GOP's policies are, across the board, predatory and hurtful to whomever they target. Do you know who the target of this stupid bill was? FIVE trans kids participating in K-12 sports across the entire US of F'n A and its territories, dude. Even if you have ZERO compassion for less than one percent of the nation's population (All the trans citizens in the US), doesn't it bother you that with ALL of the other fuckery going on, with all of the other ACTUAL emergencies and priorities that need addressing, that the government (specifically the pedophile-enriched, sexual predator ridden, scam-artist faction that the GOP has become) went after FIVE children?

Your attitude, kid, is why we can't have nice things. We could be working on universal health care. We could be working on paid family leave. We could be doing something about our failing infrastructure or (not that people like you believe in it) the climate change crisis. We could be working on wealth inequality since the min. wage hasn't gone up since W's administration.

But you want to giggle at AOC for pointing out how the GOP wants to become a bunch of pedo-crotch checkers because this hasn't affected you in some way yet so you feel free to laugh about it? That's your attitude toward this? It is with so many of your ilk until it's YOUR child. Grow the feck up, kid. Try actually using the internet to research transgenderism, what it really entails, and whether it really deserves the scorn you're radiating when there are so many more important things to tend to right now. Don't just be one of those couch commando types until you've done your research; it really does make you look a bit like an asshole, and even cis-gender, hetero men like myself can see through your cloud of cluelessness having a good chuckle over targeting and victimizing people you know nothing about.

It IS an odd subject to the inexperienced, unread mind. Have you ever even had a conversation with a trans person? A gay person? I doubt you'd give any of them a second glance or the time of day. You seem more apt to let loos your dog(s) on them and assault them. Would you go so far as to beat the shit out of gay/trans people, just because you "don't get it"?

Too many people are put off by trans people because all they understand about them is their own belief that trans people insist that they're something than they really are. You know- like fucking CHRISTIANS in 'Murica do EVERY DAY. They think because they wear a gold cross around their neck or go to church for their weekly Sunday Circle-jerk to talk about a book that NONE of them have read and worship a guy that NONE of them respect or would listen to today because he's brown skinned and totally a commie-socialist hippie. Still, we have to listen to THEIR crap because of some notion behind freedom of religion means being given license to be a total hypocrite.

Does any of that sound like you, kid, or are you better than all of that right-wing, hate on minorities, led by sex offenders, kind of crap? If I'm off in how I've receiving you, the I do apologize but I couldn't even get to the two minute mark before you gave me the distinct impression that you not only have no idea what you're talking about but that you have ZERO respect for women, trans people and it's only a small just to assume you hate gays too. Maybe you hate black people as well. Perhaps you want to also kill all the Muslims? I mean, why stop with only one topic you clearly know nothing about nor do you wish to, given the amount of clear contempt and disrespect you've shown in under two minutes.

Seriously. Good luck being a human."

[aetherialfalmer]

Miraak wants comfort but can't fuckin ask, the drabble

Escaping Apocrypha was his deepest desire that tore apart his very soul with a hunger of countless millennia. He knew it would take time before he could readjust to the place he once called home, however he couldn't have expected a different type of hunger to bubble to the surface.

At first it was an accident. The Dragonborn stumbling back and nearly falling onto him. Miraak caught him but something about the scenario clung to his skin under his robes and armor.

Even when he was handed something like a new staff or scroll and just barely touching the other man's fingertips... Why did it give him goosebumps?

"Touch starvation," the Dragonborn said while setting up camp, "I've read about it once or twice. Though your case might be the most severe in..well ever."

Miraak wrinkled his brows in thought and quietly sat down to build a fire pit.

"Shit..I think that last Forswarn attack ripped up my tent. It's got holes in it.." His ears were slightly drooped.

The Atmoran glanced at the Elven Dragonborn curiously, "Can you not sew?"

"No. I was too occupied studying magic and how to use a sword. I've tried but nothing stays together." He shrugged.

Miraak blinked and lit the fire, "So that means we only have one tent then."

Keryth started to set up the tent and sighed, "I know it's inconvenient. I can sleep outside if it makes you uncomfortable-"

"-Thats too dangerous if you ask me." If he thought about it, Atmorans and Snow Elves had a similar range of body heat. Yet such a notion hadn't crossed his mind in ages.

"You're sure you don't mind?" He asked one more time. Reading Miraak's expressions was a bit difficult for him since his resting face was rather..angry.

"What you are does not bother me Keryth. I've said it before. Does it bother you to lay with an Atmoran?"

The mer's ears shot right up at Miraak's horrible phrasing and his face turned a bright shade of pink. Even the tips of his ears were flushed and Miraak took small note of it.

"No! I mean..I don't mind really. I guess I just thought you'd prefer to be on your own.."

Miraak looked into the fire, unable to find the right words at first. "I do not wish to be." It was all he could manage to say with his pride intact.

The air grew quiet as the two slowly set up camp while unable to balance idle chit chat. Keryth summoned his familiar to stand guard and crawled inside the tent to his bed roll.

Miraak knew the tent was large enough for both of them, but noticed his body hesitated. He quietly sighed through his nose and crawled inside. Keryth was already curled up in his bedroll, assumably dozing from some mixture he took to help him sleep.

The Atmoran crawled into his own bedroll and tried to get comfortable. He was thankful that the still had a wide array of sounds to lull him to sleep. However, their conversation from earlier rung through Miraak's mind like a bell.

Touch starved.

He glanced at the smaller mer who slept with his back towards him. It wasn't spiteful, Keryth just tended to fall asleep on his side. Miraak could hear his inner instincts whisper to him to act on his greed. Grab him. Pull him close.

Miraak shook his head and sighed. He ran his hand through his braids and glanced over in vain. Then, he perked up with an idea. As slowly and quietly as he could, Miraak moved closer so their backs would touch. Just the mere sensation alone placated him and gave him goosebumps for a few minutes.

He had messed up many things in his long lifetime, especially bonds. The greed of his soul was going to remain in check so he wouldn't self sabotage this one.

Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, he drifted off. Unbeknownst to him, the smaller elf flipped and flopped in his sleep as usual. He only stopped when he found something to lay up against. Miraak slept with a small smile.

[undead-potatoes]

COUNTERSPELL ASK!!!!!!!!! (unless you already answered this (I couldn't find it) or it's already in your inbox)

If New Year's resolutions were a thing in Faerûn, would Jay or Aurora be the kind to make any? What kinds of resolutions would they make? Would they ever be able to keep any of them? Are there any resolutions they'd keep making over and over again, but always fail?

Bonus, because I kind of answered it in my post: What are their plans post-BG3?

I did get a similar-ish ask, but it also had like 4 other questions baked into it, so I'm answering this particular question here (also hi Nonny, if you're reading this I'm working on your ask too!)

- - -

Jay is totally the kinda guy to make resolutions every year, and then fail horribly at keeping any of them. He'll get better at sticking to his planned schedules, he'll get home earlier so he can sleep more and better, he'll set aside time to work on his hobbies, he'll take a vacation for the first time in his life.

And then he never does any of those things, just keeps going as he always has while telling himself "last time I can be bothered with this, I swear". The resolutions mostly stay the same because his life does, and because he never manages to see any of them through.

I think he likes the idea of new beginnings, a fresh start to do things right, but it's of course a romanticized idea more that anything else.

- - -

Aurora is more pragmatic about it, and while new beginnings is a central theme in her journey, she doesn't see the point of waiting for a particular time of year to do so.

She might say she'll do something just for fun, but it's not serious at all, and she rarely even tries to follow through.

If she did do them, they'd probably be things like "spend more quality time with loved ones" and "be kinder to yourself" (something she really needs to work on).

Cult!Aurora wouldn't do any resolutions either, and thinks it's even more stupid than post-tadpole Aurora. She has shit to do, she doesn't have time to sit around and promise herself she'll do all the things that needs doing like that.

- - -

Bonus:

I think I mentioned this in another ask at some point, but Jay's plans for life post-game is essentially:

1) Finish all business in Baldur's Gate 2) Go to Waterdeep to live with Gale 3) ??? 4) Profit

He doesn't have any concrete plans for his future for the first time in forever, and it does him well to just vibe for a while and have Gale pamper him a bit, a gesture which he eagerly returns in kind. They're holding off on marriage at first, giving both a moment to settle into each other's lives, and just learning to know each other better in a less life-threatening situation.

Jay also needs time to feel like he actually belongs in Gale's life, especially among his wider social and familial circles (which luckily works out in the end, I hc that Gale's mom and wider family are actually pretty nice and welcoming cause I need that W for my guy).

Eventually he starts up his business again, operating out of both Waterdeep and Baldur's Gate with the help of a portal set up between the two cities (that would surly be within Gale's capabilities yeah?) I'm sure the wizards of Waterdeep would love a funky little guy who can get a hold of all sorts of weird stuff that they need.

- - -

Aurora's plans depend largely on Shadowheart's ending. In my first playthrough I let her choose the fate of her parents, which meant they died and Shadowheart was free to live life on her own. But I'm not sure if that is my final canon, now that I know both Jay and Aurora would admit to wanting to save them if they were their own parents.

If her parents die, it's simple: Aurora, Shadowheart, and Astarion travel around Faerûn, seeing all sorts of things and getting into way too much trouble, again. They eventually plan to settle down somewhere, with both Aurora and Shadowheart keen to live a more normal life for once, and Astarion finding his own place in that life I'm sure.

If her parents live, Shadowheart stays behind to make up for lost time, while Aurora and Astarion go to the Underdark to help sort out the hoard of unsupervised vampire spawn they unleashed down there. Maybe Shadowheart eventually joins them, traveling around much like when her parents are dead, or Aurora and Astarion occasionally travel around on their own, while Shadowheart stays behind with her parents.

Either way, she has no real interest in a future where she's separated from either one of them for too long at the time.

[serenity-songbird]

Howdy!!!

It's been quite a while.

I'm sorry for the sudden disappearance with no communication.

Truth is...I've been through a lot...For so long I have been trying to bury my past...to the point it become too much to Handle.

So...I have decided that I will tell you the story of Serenity Songbird.

It's not just for the sake of my mental health. It is also for the hope that you may read this and learn that sometimes...you have to face your fears if you want the pain to stop.

By the trigger warnings, you will most likely know the issues already.

FYI. You don't have to read. This is mainly for me to get out all my frustrations, fears, and sorrows.

Below contain triggering topics like: Rape, Attempted Suicide, Self Harm, Child Abuse & Neglect, Bullying PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression.

If any of these topics bother you. Stop reading.

This is mainly an Autobiography to lift the load of my chest and aid in my recovery.

Beware. This is going to be long...

My name is Serenity Song.

I have been described by people who me know as:

Creative

Kind

Loving

Loyal

Weird (But in a good way)

Funny

Shy/Timid

Happy-Go-lucky

Talented

And definitely a doormat..

I grew up in the suburbs. Nice neighborhood. Great neighbors and long time friends. I have 2 parents who love me and 2 brothers who, definitely could be annoying at times, but of course we loved each other in our own sibling way.

For the first 12 years..I was happy. Sure it had it's ups and downs with my parents having arguments every other day. Being punished and beat for the stupid things we all do as children.

It wasn't so bad...Except for the fact that I was constantly bullied and told how much of an ugly freak I was. So I definitely didn't have self esteem back then.

But I managed to endure it...After all...

Kids are cruel and if you are being bullied, it's your fault. So. Just. Be. Normal. "It's not a big deal."

...

*Well...there's trauma number 1.*

Because bullying is never okay. It shouldn't be normalized. And yes. It. Is. Traumatic. And it is NOT. Your. Fault.

Then, I turned 13 close to the end of my 8th year in middle school. The bullying stopped. I was so happy. Not only that but was I going to be a high schooler schooler soon! And I was to go into it with a boyfriend!

**Introducing trauma number 2.**

I was excited......But I couldn't enjoy it for long because my life went down into flames.

My very first boyfriend left me for my best friend. He broke up with me over text...on Christmas Eve...the day. Before. My. Birthday.

I found out after winter break. My friends, who were hesitant to tell me, said they were dating.

I felt so insecure and hurt that I confessed not to one but 2 of my closest friends. Not out of love, but desperation. But I didn't know that at the time.

That hurt. He not only got over me so easily, but I found out she confessed to him after we started dating and got together immediately after breaking up. Yet, because of the fact that I had very few friends to begin with, I didn't say anything. I just smiled and congratulated them. Because we are Best Friends...

Yeah right.

The first one, lasted two weeks. I just realized I didn't have feeling for him. We stayed friends, but I felt like a piece of shit.

The second one, lasted two and a half years. It was the biggest mistake I ever made.

Long story short...At 13 years old, I was raped by the boy I thought I loved. And despite the pain and fear, he manipulated me into thinking I wanted it. I didn't. But his snake-like whisper echoed in my mind...

"You are my girlfriend. That means you HAVE TO have sex with me. That's what girlfriends do. Now get dressed. My mom will be here soon."

***Trauma number 3.***

And he left without another word. And it happened again and again...to the point where I felt numb.

He didn't just abuse me sexually, but emotionally. He would constantly belittle me, ridicule me, and he separated me from my friends.

My friends tried to tell me something wasn't right with him...I didn't listen because I thought that I was in love...

How wrong I was...

And if that wasn't enough...at the exact same time, my Mami cheated on my Papi with 5 men. And he moved out to live with my Titi (aunt) until he could get his life back together.

I didn't know at the time what she did, I only found out months later. All I knew was that they got into a fight and got divorced.

******And so trauma number 4, 5, & 6 begin.******

He gave the house...and us....to my mother. Because he loved her and he didn't want to suddenly uproot the lives of his children and take them away from friends...

I wish he took us with him. I'd rather move to a whole other city than to endure the things my mother did to us...And what my boyfriend did to me.

Now...Don't get me wrong. Unlike some divorces, my Papi didn't completely abandon us. He'd visit. We'd sleep over at his temporary home every 2 weeks. We spent holidays and birthdays together still. And he didn't show any negative emotion towards my mother for our sake.

But I knew he was hurting. No matter how hard he tried to hide it.

The problem with my Mami was...she was in a deep depression. She had tried to kill herself. She would lay on her bed crying for hours while my 10 year old brother and I could hear from downstairs.

Then she started leaving us alone.

Everyday she went out to party and got drunk with friends. She would bring strange men home and we could hear them having sex. Which was gross. 🤢🤢🤢

Who the hell were these men?

It got so bad, I told my brother to lock the door everytime he was in there. Unfortunately, my lock didn't work, so I hid a knife under my bed for protection.

Then she would leave for days on end. Never came home. Which means she never went grocery shopping.

My brother and I scavenged for food...But we ran low.

I was now the caretaker of my brother. I bought his food with my birthday money. I did our laundry. I would take him outside with me to play games when my mother was...doing her business. Covered his ears. Said it was okay.

There was this one day that has haunted me for years...it still does.

One day, I went to check up on her. I didn't know what to say or do to make her feel better. How could I? I was just a kid.

"It's YOUR FAULT I am feeling like this. You're my daughter so you have to make me feel better. You're so WORTHLESS. You father is gone because you didn't stop him from leaving."

Worthless? MY fault?

Ever since then...I feel like every problem I encounter IS my fault. Even when it clearly isn't.

At the time I was afraid to tell my Papi..If I said anything Mami would go to jail. They'll take me and my younger brother away. I wished that my older brother didn't go to the army so he could help. He always know what to do. But we didn't have him at the time.

I wish I told my Papi...If I did...I wouldn't be so...messed up.

Then Mami invited a stranger into the house, but this time...he didn't leave. After 6 months of weeping and the finalized divorce papers, my Mami got engaged and married to one of the men she cheated on my Papi with...

I hated them.

I resented them.

Even know...I still can't get over this resentment for all the things that women put us through.

...

But when she married my Step-dad, things got better...

Mami was happy again. And Papi got an apartment and was in a happy relationship. (Though they didn't get married right away like my Mami did. And it took a lot more time for him to move on).

He cooked. He cleaned. He...took care of us and never layed a hand on us. He made us laugh.

At the time, I was quite the poet and singer. He'd listen to all my songs and poems. He was kind and involved himself in our lives and after school activities.

Eventually, I grew to love my Step-dad and now I have 2 Papi's and 2 Mami's. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

And then...my boyfriend's mother found out about what me and him were doing behind closed doors and told my parents.

We got in trouble. Grounded for the entire summer and not allowed to see each other. I got yelled at...I blamed myself. It was MY FAULT. I DESERVE THIS.

I told them it was consented. I defended him. Because I loved him.

My step dad marched into his house to yell at him...

That was embarrassing...Especially when he yelled, "HOW DARE YOU F*** MY DAUGHTER IN THE ***!"

I was mortified. He shouldn't have said that.

(I didn't tell them about the abuse until I was 21. I could see the regret, anger, and concern in their eyes...My mom had to hold my step-dad from hurting him...)

I was severely depressed over the summer. My mom gave me her antidepressants to help...I nearly overdosed because she didn't know that while the dosage was perfect for her, it was too much for me. My step-dad was pissed when he found out. She didn't give them to me anymore.

After the summer break, we saw each other again...And we were still together... But he was different...Crueler...Meaner.

Yet...I stayed. Because I loved him.

I was now constantly anxious that I did something wrong. I started to cut my arms. I tried to kill myself with a scarf only to fail.

"I've changed."

His abuse got worse and worse until I couldn't take it anymore. We broke up.

Then got back together a week later after he manipulated me.

He didn't.

I didn't last long. I officially broke up with my abusive boyfriend forever.

I was finally free.

I should be happy...

"Why am I not happy?"

In order to be happy. I had to forget. I'm not suffering anymore.

Just. Forget. About. It.

So I dug down to the deepest, darkest place in my head.

I covered it.

I chained it.

I locked it up and threw away the key.

As the years went by I suffered more bad luck.

From one toxic relationship to the other.

*I lost count of the trauma I endured.*

I was desperate for love. I wanted to feel like my body was mine and nobody else's. So I had to prove it by doing, what I convinced myself, I wanted.

More painful memories were added to the pile...

But soon...there was no more room.

And the past started to leak out.

I woke up, sweating and choking on air. Trying to control my breathing, but my chest felt like it was constricted.

Memories I tried to forget flashed into my mind.

I started to see things...hear things. But nothing was there.

There were moments where I was no longer in my house, but back in my childhood home relieving my worst nightmares.

Than one day...I snapped.

Just 2 months ago, I nearly drove my car off a bridge.

That's when I knew I needed help...Not just for my sake, but my husband's.

I didn't even realize what I was doing until my car hit the curb making the car jump. I snapped out of it and swerved.

I rushed home and I cover the entire top half of my arms with razor scratches and watched the blood drip down into the sink.

I just can't live like this anymore...

Then my husband saw my arms and he cried for me and held me close.

Truthfully, if it wasn't for him...I would have done it. I would not be here now if it wasn't for his support and love for the past 3 and a half years we've been together.

I was admitted into the hospital with constant supervision.

I was diagnosed with PTSD...

Not only that but my body suffers from illness as well. From my brain, to my heart, lungs, liver, immune system, and GI system. All due to weight gain and unhealthy lifestyle from my eating disorder.

It sucks...It really really sucks. I am so fortunate to be blessed with a loving and supportive family as well as an understanding boss and coworkers. Not a lot of people can say that.

I'm still recovering, but I've started seeing Doctors for all my issues. I see my therapist and psychiatrist regularly. The meds help a lot as well.

I'm recovering slowly. But I know it's going to take a long time before I can say that I'm healed. Could be years for all I know. But I'm so tired of feeling like this. I'm trying to help myself.

Thank you all for the messages to check up on me and your kind words of encouragement. I am thankful to have understanding and caring followers. I love each and everyone of you.

If y'all ever need an ear to listen to listen and a shoulder to cry on. You can always shoot me a message.

I'm here for you.

And thank you for reading.

~Here's your daily dose of love~

😘😘😘

[hellfiresmaster]

Look At Me

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

NSFW 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 2.1K (whoops)

Warnings: best friends to lovers, some fluff I guess, mention of the Hellfire gang but not too much, smut, grinding, P in V, slight hand kink, praise kink, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on BC), the hellfire shirt STAYS ON, orgasm denial

Notes: This is my first Eddie fic as you can probably tell lmao but hopefully not my last one. I know this is probably a dynamic/type of story you’ve read a million times (and it's a little rushed and unedited sorry) but I had to get this stupid little daydream of mine out of my head. If you know me and my kind of writing, you know there’s smut coming 💀 I already have another one planned byeeee

P.S. my inbox is always open to discuss any thots on this man if anyone wants to drop by! :)

Freak.

Hearing that word made your skin crawl with anger, even if it wasn't necessarily indicated towards you. The scrutiny your lifelong best friend was under every single day at Hawkins High was enough to drive anyone insane. But not your Eddie; he always managed to dust it off, not paying it a single thought unless he was in one of his moods; of course, then retaliation was always in the cards. 

To everyone else, he was Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. A screw-up eternally repeating his senior year doomed to a life of being a loser. But never to you. Never to the ones closest to him. Eddie was caring, kind, and free-spirited in the best way. He had the biggest heart of anyone you knew, and it pissed you off that the rest of the world couldn't see that too. There was always a need inside of you to protect Eddie since you were kids from those who hated him but never bothered to understand him. 

Growing up wasn't any different. While all the other girls in Hawkins seemed to be more interested in hanging out at the mall or having sleepovers, you were far too busy riding your bike around town or downing beers by Lover's Lake and laughing until you couldn't breathe with Eddie by your side. Let's be honest, you two could sit around doing absolutely nothing, and it would still be the best day. Relishing in each other's company seemed to be your favorite pastime.

All was well with you and Eddie, well, all but one thing. Nothing big, just your unrequited love for your best friend. No big deal, right? Ever since you can remember, he had you wrapped around his ring-clad fingers. But the fear of ruining your friendship far outweighed any promising future you saw for the two of you. Admiring him from afar had2 become second nature to you at this point.

Snapping yourself out of your slight haze, you realized how late it was and where you were supposed to be.

"Hellfire. Shit." You mumbled to yourself as you gathered your things and headed out the door towards Hawkins High like you did every other Wednesday night.

---------

The dimly lit room had an eerie feeling before you heard Dustin shout "NO!" from inside as you turned the handle to open the door as quietly as possible. You shifted your vision to make out what he was yelling so passionately at. 

And there he was. Eddie fucking Munson. Looming over the D&D table in all his Dungeon Master glory. He gave you a quick wink which you involuntarily had to look away from to regain any composure you had left as you felt a warmth spreading in your core— growing annoyed with yourself for letting him get to you that easily.

You shuffled quietly, attempting to make your way through the room without interrupting the ongoing game. You took your seat right beside but slightly behind Eddie, pulling out a worn-out sketchbook from your bag and beginning to scribble on it.

Hellfire nights were your favorite. Not only was it a chance to hang out with your favorite people, but nothing inspired you to draw more than watching them play. It was always the highlight of your week.

"Hey, princess." Eddie gave you a quick whisper as he leaned back on his throne, giving the other players a chance to concur about whatever current situation they were trying to weasel their way out of.

"Focus." You rolled your eyes and gestured back towards the game board, which made him sheepishly grin into his hand and direct his attention back to the papers in front of him. The players returned to the table to execute their plan, and you resumed your doodles. 

-------

Before you knew it, the night had come to an end, and you found yourself under a large blanket and laying back against a worn-out picnic mat by Lover's Lake with Eddie going on and on about the night's gameplay. 

"I almost forgot; I have something for you." You interrupted without really meaning to, and Eddie's eyes instantly snapped towards you. "For your birthday." He grumbled at the mention of the one day a year he would do anything to avoid and dropped his head dramatically back onto the blanket. You giggled before hurrying back to the car to grab the large box you had obscured in the backseat and made your way back next to him. "Open it." Eddie seemed unsure at first but offered you a bashful smile when you set the box in his lap as he sat up and took it into his hands.

"A...record player?" He ran his fingers along the pristine box, marveling at it for a second in disbelief.

"Yeah, for your music. I know how much you've been missing it since your other one broke. Your place has been so quiet since, and maybe we can go to the record store this weekend and pick up some Metallica-" You cut yourself off when you realized he wasn't listening, his attention still entirely on the gift in front of him. "Eddie?" 

His eyes were glossy when they met yours, chewing on his lower lip, seemingly trying to find the words to say, when all of a sudden his hands were cupping your face and bringing your lips to his in a rushed but sincere kiss. It took you a second before you processed what was happening and kissed him back, lips gliding smoothly over his as he held you there for a moment before pulling back just enough for your noses to brush against one another.

"Is this okay?" You quickly nodded, drawing him back towards your lips, this time parting them to allow your tongue to slip inside his mouth, which he greedily accepted. Eddie's hands tentatively slid lower towards your waist, and you leaned closer. You took the opportunity to straddle his waist, sighing into his mouth when you felt the growing bulge underneath you. Your hands found their way to intertwine in his lustrous waves of curls and tugging slightly, earning a low moan from him every time. The chilling metal of his rings dug under your skirt and into the delicate flesh of your thighs and ass, making you writhe on top of him.

Eddie's lips continued to work their way down along your jawline and chest, leaving a path of marks on his way but quickly alleviating your skin with the warmth of his tongue. 

"Can I?" A murmured yes, and his hands slid under your shirt, pulling it directly over your head as you unclipped your bra and threw it off to the side. Eddie swore he could've cum right then and there. "Shit, sweetheart. Been dreaming about these tits since I can remember." He wasted no time and began palming one breast while his tongue lavished the other with attention and switching sides. Your skin warmed when you felt him nip at your pebbled nipple, then sucking on the flesh surrounding it until it was purple and plump. It wasn't long before he began to caress your waist, his hands skimming under your skirt to push aside your panties and run his fingers along your slick folds.

"Damn, baby. All this for me?" You immediately wanted to kiss that cocky smirk off his face. Still, you were far too preoccupied with the sensation of his fingers tracing tight circles on your clit and toying with your entrance, spreading your arousal back up to your throbbing bud.

"Eddie, please." The desperation in your voice made his cock twitch as he slipped a finger inside, making you moan loudly in relief. The aching emptiness inside of you finally soothed, but it wasn't enough; you needed more. As soon as you started riding his hand, he inserted a second finger, then a third, and pumped at a languid pace that had your head reeling while his thumb worked your clit. "Fuck, that's good. I've wanted this for so long." 

"Have you now? You think about having my fingers inside you, princess?" Eddie continued his pace, slowly building that pleasure that was tightly coiling deep in your core as he spoke. "Tell me." His tone was more demanding as he gripped your throat with his free hand, his rings pressing into your neck.

"All the time Eddie. Your hands just look so good; I imagined the way your rings would look covered in me." You began panting, finding it harder to form coherent words from the pressure building but managing to look down at him through your lashes. "God, please, I just wanted you to stretch me out, get me nice and ready for you," Eddie groaned, slowly losing his composure as he sternly pulled you closer, his lips barely brushing over your ear with his hand still wrapped around your neck.

"God can't help you now, sweetheart." He smugly chuckled before pulling his fingers from you completely, making you pout back at him at the loss of your orgasm. 

"Eddie!" Your whining only made him kiss you while grinning against your lips. It only took a moment before your motions became feverish; your bodies pressed on one another again, breathing heavily while feeling the thud of your combined heartbeats as you fumbled to remove any barrier of clothing.

Your fingers coasted along his arms to admire some of his tattoos; your mind wandered to those that adorned the parts of his body you longed to see. Eddie practically read your mind as he began to remove his shirt before you stopped him.

"No. This stays on." A guttural moan escaped his throat at your words. The fact that you wanted him to fuck you while wearing his Hell Fire shirt had his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head. He quickly snapped out of it as you started to grind on his hardened erection moving your hips in sync with his. You began to undo his belt and push his pants down along with his boxers, just enough for his cock to spring out. You couldn't help but break the kiss to admire it, the head angry and red leaking pre cum from the tip. He was big, not too big, but big enough to make you gulp and gape in awe (and maybe drool a little). You wrapped your hand around the girth of it, making Eddie's breath catch in his throat at the sight of it, stroking it before arranging yourself to hover above his cock. His aching tip rubbed along your dripping cunt; his eyes transfixed where you were joining together as you sunk onto him inch by delicious inch. Feeling every ridge of his cock slide into you until it filled you completely. It wasn't until you were fully seated on him that you released a breathy moan in unison at the feeling of being entirely enveloped in each other. Your pussy accommodated him so well, walls pulsating around him as you began to find a rhythm with your hips. 

"I've wanted this for so long. Fuck, you're so beautiful." Eddie couldn't help but watch you as you rode him, admiring how your tits bounced while he kept a tight grip on your waist and slightly lifted his hips to meet your every thrust. 

"Fuck Eddie, I'm so close." He could feel you tightening around him as he brought his thumb back to your swollen clit.

"Me too, baby. Me too." His face was flushed, hair already sticking to his face from the exertion of keeping his own orgasm at bay. "You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl?" His words sunk deep into your core, making you clench down hard on his cock, spiraling over the edge and into the bliss of your orgasm. Your entire body quivered as Eddie made sure to fuck you through your high. His cock slammed into you relentlessly, taking over your motions when you slumped onto him, still trembling from the aftershocks of your high. You swore you could feel him in your stomach with how deep he was driving into you when you suddenly felt him thrust once, twice until his hips stuttered, and he poured his release into you, almost singing your name like a prayer along with a stream of praises while holding you close to him.

Once your labored breaths returned to normal, Eddie took the discarded blanket and draped it over your naked figure, still straddling him. He beamed with a pleased look on his face as he stroked your cheek and glanced at you as if to make sure you were real.

"Can we do that again?" His question made you laugh into his shoulder as your arms crossed behind his neck. 

"You're still inside me, Munson. And you're already asking if we can go again?" Eddie glanced down and then back up to you before securing the blanket around you a bit more.

"Fine. But we're going back to my place. I'm not done with you yet."

[wolfxkissed]

Thanzag Sickfic

@thatlesbiancrow — first time writing a sickfic, but this was fun! ty for the suggestion, i hope you enjoy it <3 apologies in advance, it's more fluff than anything, but hey, you get thanatos being a little sweetie so ?? :)

Zagreus climbed his way out of the Pool of Styx, making no attempt to greet anyone as he ducked through the lounge's hidden entrance and into his chambers. He let out a groan as he flopped down onto his bed, which he very quickly came to regret, and slowly turned his attention to the marks that covered his skin, left behind by the satyr's poison.

Everything ached as he tried to find a more comfortable position to lay in, eventually settling on laying on his side, with his back to the entryway.

Gods, he felt like shit.

He almost let himself drift off to sleep, until he heard someone enter his room. Without even thinking, he spoke up, deciding to take a guess at who his visitor might be. "Than?"

"That easy, huh?" Thanatos responded, that hint of amusement shining through, that only ever appeared when it was just the two of them — Meg being the sole exception to that rule, of course. He made his way over to the bed, a bottle of the mandrake cure in his hand. It took some time, but they managed to obtain several bottles of the stuff, should situations like this occur.

"The list of people in this house who would think of entering my chambers is so small, I could count them on one hand..." Zagreus muttered, looking up at Than, as he hovered over him. "I'm glad it was you who decided to visit, though," he added, reaching a hand up to cup his face.

Than let a smile show at the comment and sat down beside him, taking a moment to open the bottle.

"Meg found me just after you left the lounge... informed me of your condition," he explained, bringing the bottle to Zag's lips. "Open up."

With a sigh, the Prince took a drink, admittedly feeling a little better almost immediately — likely due to him being a god, or maybe the plant held magical properties; he never bothered to check. He shuffled back on his bed to make room and gently tapped the spot next to him.

Thanatos didn't need to be told twice. He put the bottle and his scythe aside for the time being and laid down next to him.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, resting an arm on Zag's hip.

Zagreus gave a small shake of his head. "No thank you.. just some company. Thanks for the cure, as well.. feeling better already," he murmured softly, trying to ignore the dull, aching pain.

"It's no problem, Zag. You don't have to thank me," Than murmured back, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

Zagreus had made a note of his increase in affection as of late, and found it to be rather adorable. It was nice to see this other side of him, and he made sure to savour the moments while they lasted.

"You're the best, Than.." Zag whispered, planting a kiss on the corner of Death's lips. "Could you stay a while?"

Than nodded. "Of course I can."

He watched quietly, then, as the Prince's eyes slowly fluttered shut. How peaceful he looked.

《 ☆ 》

When Zagreus next awoke, the spot next to him was cold. He wasn't exactly surprised, but that didn't stop him from missing the presence of his partner. He sat up slowly and tentatively stretched out his arms, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt little pain from the movements.

He took a few moments to look around his room, and paused when he spotted a note on the shelf behind his bed, marked with a "θ" — theta. Than. Beside it, sat the bottle of mandrake.

Zag picked up the note and carefully read through it.

'Zag,

I apologise for my disappearance. I would have liked to stay longer — at least until you woke up — but I was called away to work. I left the mandrake with you, should you still need it. Please don't try and tough it out, and don't do anything stupid until you're fully healed.

Get better soon, all right?

Than.'

Zagreus couldn't stifle the smile that formed as he finished reading the note and set it aside. He then directed his attention toward the mandrake and, thinking back on Than's words, decided to take another sip — just for good measure.

"Heh, I love you, Than.." he muttered to himself, fiddling with the bottle for a few brief moments before putting it away. Still smiling like a fool, he pulled out his Companion Mort and held it close as he curled up into a ball, waiting patiently for Death's return.

[nonotnolan]

Fiverr Warlock: Professional Courtesy

"Hey, thanks for agreeing to meet with me," Jeremy said, sitting on the corner of his bed. I'd heard rumors about how the university managed to sneak in perks for the Basketball Team, but I hadn't realized how blatant it was until I set foot inside the premiere student dorm, the one that had a huge waitlist unless you were an athlete or your parents were major donors. Not that pointless displays of wealth really phased me anymore. Turns out being a Warlock is massively profitable.

"You're Calvin, right? The magic dude, or whatever? You gotta help me, man. I think someone cursed me, or some shit. I first noticed it last week, I started blacking out over the weekend. But like, during the day, when I wasn't drinking. And I don't remember going to any of my classes this week, but no one's yelled at me so far, so I guess I showed up? That was weird enough, but yesterday when I woke up, I was naked on my bed with jizz all over my chest. Which is just... all sorts of fucked up, man! And it made me remember how sore my ass was on Monday and... fuck, dude, I know this shit sounds crazy, but it's almost like someone is trying to live my life. Please, you gotta do something!"

I simply nodded in response; it didn't take much for me to realize what had happened here. Really the only dilemma was going to be whether or not I should side with Jeremy or with his tormentor. "I'd like to start with a few tests," I said, pulling a soul jar out of my pocket. "Go ahead and place this on your lips, and then blow into it."

Jeremy obliged, and his face barely had any time to register an expression of fear or surprise before his soul had been completely pulled out of his body. As expected, Jeremy's body didn't fall over limp because there was someone else inside of it. His body started thanking me for helping him out, but I didn't pay much attention to what he was saying. I corked the jar containing Jeremy's soul and slipped it into my pocket for safekeeping before turning to address the intruder. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't expel you from his body."

"Please, sir. I'm... my name is Russell, and I just wanted to know what it was like to be someone who was popular for once. But now I'm trapped in his body and I don't know what to do! My real body is... I'm pretty overweight, and I had, just... the worst case of acne back in high school. So when I found this book in my parents' attic, I thought maybe..."

I let out a deep sigh. Few things were more annoying than a fledgling warlock who couldn't be bothered to read how his spells worked. Granted, it sounded like the kid didn't have a mentor, but that was no excuse. "Alright, fine. From one warlock to another, I'll give you a pass this time, but on one condition. Take off the jewelry, and take off the shirt. Give all of it to me."

"I... yeah, consider it done," Russell said, throwing his tank top onto the floor and dropping all of his silver on top of it. "But can I ask why?"

"I had you take off the jewelry because it's fucking up your possession spell. Warlock magic is weak to silver. There's no way that stuff is 100% pure silver, but it's enough of an alloy that the real Jeremy was able to break through for a few hours at a time." I flashed Russell a mischievous grin. "I had you take off your shirt because I wanted to see Jeremy's muscular body for myself."

He blinked in confusion for a few moments before he finally picked up on my drift. "Well, then... since you're the reason I'm keeping this body, I think it's only fair that you get a chance to explore every inch of it. Shall we take this back to the bedroom?"

----------------------------------------

It wasn't the best sex that I'd ever had; far from it, if I'm being honest. Still, I made sure to take photos of the two of us in bed post coitus as a souvenir-- not many people can they that they've fucked Jeremy Thomas in the ass. With any luck, Russell would improve with time and experience. Or maybe he would continue to be a terrible lay, laboring under the presumption that being popular made him good at sex. It didn't really matter to me either way.

"Don't forget to switch back before two weeks are up," I said, leaving the soul jar with Jeremy's essence on the coffee table. "You can't do magic from someone else's body, and you'll be trapped inside of that body if Jeremy's soul grows stale and evaporates."

"Duly noted," Russell said, glancing up from the sofa with an expression that suggested he was barely paying attention to me. Well, it was his choice to make, not mine. Although, with that sort of lazy attitude, his teammates were probably going to grow suspicious. The odds of him making it even one more week before he needed to flee Jeremy's body seemed slim to none.

I just shrugged my shoulders. Not my monkeys, not my circus. "Okay, well... if you ever need my help again, you have my Venmo information."

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[ren-therose]

Prove Your Mine

Bo Burnham X F!Reader (WC: 2.5k)

Summary: Bo is being interviewed when he sees another guy bothering you. Though you handle it, he still wants to prove to you that no one else can have you.

Warnings: My most graphic smut so MINORS DNI. TW: inappropriate sexual misconduct in the workplace. oral sex f receiving. penetrative unprotected sex. maybe a little on the breeding side. possessive bo

A/N: As I said, my most graphic fic, so be warned. I have other bo content that doesn't get as detailed (though still very descriptive), and they can be found here. Comment, like, share, yadada, you all know the drill.

Thank you to the two requests that inspired this piece! They are linked here and here if you're curious.

---

Behind the glass of the recording room, you leaned back as Bo worked his boyish charm as the interviewer continued to ask question after question. It wasn't often that you were able to join Bo, especially since you were doing a lot to provide for yourself with our own career (it was that ambition that drew him to you in the first place). When your schedule allowed you to join him for a press day, you couldn't help but jump on top of him and give him the biggest hug you could muster. Meetings with Netflix, a few magazines and a nice lunch in LA, you were now enjoying the way he lit up talking about the work he does for this radio show.

You leaned back in the office chair, leg crossed over the other, with your foot bouncing. You arms were perched on the sides of the chair, showing off you black blouse and blue jeans that matched him. Your hair was half up and half down, casual, but still nice. Bo never got tired of how you looked so good all the time: when you wake up next to him, when you come home from work after a long day, or being sick in the bathroom while he holds your hair back. He also loved that you made an effort to match, down to the high tops you wore.

"Yeah no, I love making my own content, because who the fuck else is gonna understand what I go through? So I throw the comedy back in their faces, trying to get them to see the tru-what? Oh shit, I can't say fuck? OR SHIT??" Bo eyes widen and he collapses back into his chair, hands gripping his hair. "Jesus christ, I wish I had known before, I'm sooo so sorry, can we keep going?"

You laugh, as the interviewer explains that anything more than two fucks will make the show R-rated, so he needs to watch it. As you smile, making eye contact for a brief second, the door behind you opens and man is standing next to you, leaning against the tabel as he stares at your boyfriend.

"Is this that fucking comedian from like, 2010 or some shit?"

You uncross your legs and spin to face this asshat face on. "What did you just say about him?"

The man's eyebrow quirks up, raking his eyes over you with a smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you a fan? I didn't mean to offend you; I just thought someone as pretty as you would have better taste than a washup musici-"

You launch out of your seat and plant yourself between the man and the window.

"Already, I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you have a lot of your information. Maybe do some research on the people who are going to be working with you" you say, jabbing a finger into the man's chest, pushing him slightly as you sit back down, softly letting out a string of insults under your breath.

The man looks surprised, and also impressed. You glance at Bo, whose brow was furrowed.

Shit, he must have seen that. You think to yourself.

You give him a thumbs up and a big smile as he looks back at the interviewer, continuing on. Your cheesy grin drops and your arms cross as the man leans back against the desk to stare at you once more.

"Usually, I'm not into a woman who is so in control-"

"How surprising," you interject, rolling your eyes.

"Aha. But, your bossiness is highly attractive..."

He leans forward, eyes landing on the open buttons of your shirt before coming back up to your face.

You scoff, "As appealing as it is to lie and say I'm single and simple don't want to go out with you, I actually have a boyfriend I love and isn't a dick, so I won't be leaving him anytime soon."

With that, you roll away from him to look at Bo. He is laughing, slapping his leg and running his hands through his hair. You could tell he was probably reaching his limit, and move to the intercom connected to the earpieces he and the interviewer had. As you press the button, the douchebag in a suit leans over your shoulder, brushing the hair off your neck and leaning down to your ear to whisper "but could he fuck you like I could?"

Your finger flies off the button as Bo's jaw drops at the words filling his head. Before he can even get out of his seat, you are grabbing the man by his lapels and pushing him against the nearest wall.

"Listen, you little bitch-ass, sexist, predatory fuck," you reach down and grab the man by the crotch, twisting his balls and dick in your fist, "first, you're gonna apologize to me. Second, my boyfriend just saw all of that, so you get to deal with that and apologize to him as well. Then, you're gonna go tell your manager that I want to speak to her, and if you even attempt to twist (as you squeeze him tighter) the truth, remember the two other witnesses who heard what you said."

The mans face was beet red as sweat dripped down his temple. He was barely breathing, afraid to move. "Answer me, fucker!"

"Yes! Yes!" he cries, a single tear falling from his eye.

"Good!" you say cheerfully, letting go of the man's junk. Just as he tries to scurry away, you grab his arm and say "by the way, it's kinda small, you might need some kind of enhancer because I wasn't impressed at all."

The man looks like he might explode, but rather than risk castration, he practically runs out the door.

"Uhh, do you think she's got it" you hear a voice say over the speaker.

You eyes widen as you realize the mic was on the entire. time.

Bo raises his eyebrows, a clear code for "da fuck babe?"

"Yeah. She's got it. Are we done here?"

--

When Bo exited the booth, you were sitting with your face in your hands, embarrassed by the altercation that everyone just heard and saw.

"Hey Dick Crusher," he mocks, coming to pull you up.

"Noooo, please don't say that Bo," you whine, standing up, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and deliver a bear hug.

"Oh no, that is never going away. That was incredible. Did you get that from Deadpool?"

You pull away to look up at him and reply, "how did you know?"

"Because every guy in the movie theatre collectively groaned at just the idea of being manhandled that way," he said with a shudder, turning to put his arm around you as you both exited the room.

"You're not mad?"

Bo stops and turns to you, surprise etched on his face. "W-why would I be mad at you babe? It's not like you enabled him. He was eye-fucking you the minute he walked in the room."

You look down, reaching to button your top to cover your chest a little more.

"Hey, babe, you don't have to do that. He just needs to learn to noT BE A PERV!" Bo yells down the hall. You laugh, wrapping your arm around his waist as you leave the building.

---

You get back to your place after a ride that consisted of talking about how weird the recording booth smelled and that they guy wanted to interview after that 'horrifying and impressive' tiff.

When you get inside, Bo goes in to put down your purse and keys on the table as you pull off your shoes by the door. Leaned over, your hair falls to the side and your shirt gapes away slightly, allowing your boyfriend to see the soft slopes of your breast. As you go to stand up, Bo stalks towards you, trapping you between him and the door.

"Uuhh, hi?" you say nervously. You still got butterflies around him, even after knowing him for so long.

Bo reaches up to your top, unbuttoning your top one slowly, pulling it away from your chest as he goes to the next one. Instead of undoing the button though, he drops his hands down to your ass, patting you gently before lifting you up the door. You are now level with him as he goes back to your buttons. His breath is warm against your neck, much more comforting than that creep could have ever been.

"Are you thinking about the way he breathed on you?"

The hairs on your neck stood up as he read your mind, moving to the third button now.

"Hm? You want to answer that?"

You breath out softly, wrapping your fingers in his hair as you reply, "nothing feels like you Bo. Only you can make me feel good..." you whisper, leaning your head back against the door as he continues to ghost over your neck. He has finished unbuttoning you and was pulling the top away to reveal your bra and abdomen.

"You got that right." He plants a wet kiss on the crook of your neck, causing you to gasp loudly. "You're fucking mine."

You pull him by the hair so that you can see his eyes as you say the next two words: "Prove it."

The next thing you know, you're being thrown on the bed as he attacks your mouth, tongues battling for dominance. His knee is between your legs as you grind against him, trying to find relief in the friction he granted you. He moved from your lips to your jaw, under your neck to your collarbone. He is marking each place his mouth lands, littering hickeys and love bites like it was the only way to claim you.

You moan, arching your back into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to slip his hands underneath you and unclasping your bra. Once it is thrown somewhere in the room, he attacks your breast, assaulting your nipple with his tongue while his hand squeezes your ass.

"He fucking stared at my tiddies," he mumbles into your chest, causing you to laugh. He pulls off of you and stares with concern and annoyance.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure they were my tiddies," you smirk, shimming your chest in his face.

"Nope. Your tiddies are my tiddies." He bites your nipple softly, causing you to cry out as the throbbing between your legs increased.

"God, Bo, I''m yours, I'm all yoouurrs..." you groan, running your hands through your own hair, pushing it out of your face.

Bo continues to make his way down your body, reaching your jeans with frustration. He sits up and unzips your pants before shimming you out of them, panties and all. Before he goes down, he removes his shirt and pants, giving you the chance to admire the man that you loved.

"And all of that is mine," you growl.

"That's fucking right," he says before diving between your legs. The time to tease is gone, all he wants is for you to be in tears over what he can do to you.

You're breathing is shallow as he runs his tongue through your folds over and over, the wet friction on your clit driving you crazy. One hand in his hair, the other gripping your breast, you feel yourself reaching the a high.

"Bo don't stop, I'm gonna cum, you're gonna m-make me c-c-OH!"

You're arching into his mouth before you can finish your sentence, his arm holding you in place as you ride out your high...on his face.

As you try to catch your breath, Bo sits up, revealing his painfully hard and dripping cock.

"I'm gonna take that fucking pussy and remind you of why it's mine," he mutters, almost more to himself than you. He wasn't the jealous type, but the way that guy had tried to manhandle you in front of him? It pissed him the fuck off.

He pumped himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him and you, just barely connecting.

"Show me Bo. Make me yours."

That statement was all the encouragement Bo needed as he slid into you, taking his time to really stretch you out. He was big, and you were filled by his cock, in ways you had never been before. You could feel him in your stomach if you pressed your hand bellow your naval.

The feeling made you weak and your elbows gave as you collapsed against the bed.

"Always so tight for me. So wet. And it's all for me, no one else," Bo whispers, beginning to slowly rock his hips as he moves inside of you. Your body reacts, contracting around him, causing to twitch.

"Hey, I won't last if you squeeze me like that," he pants, already feeling like he could paint your inner walls with his load.

You pull his face down to yours, kissing him gently before stating: "show me what no one else can do."

Bo's hips snap into to you, causing a sharp gasp to escape you. He continues to rail you into the mattress, barely able to completely sheath himself inside of you because of his size. You moan as you reach behind you to grip a pillow, pulling it over your face as you take him with each thrust. You finally throw the pillow and open your eyes to see him holding your thighs as he slams into you relentlessly.

The site of that alone would have made you cum had it not been for the fact that he just so happened to slide his hand down to your already sensitive bud and tweak it in circles. You cry out, tears filling your eyes at the stimulation.

"Bo, I need you to come inside me, please, make me yours baby, I need your cum inside me..."

Bo's eyes roll into the back of his head but he returns his focus to watching your face scrunch at the beginning of your climax.

"Cum for me baby, I'll cum inside you, just squeeze my co-oh, yes, just like that baby, fuck"

You let out a short scream before biting your wrist, your head pulling back as you cream his dick, pulsating and throbbing around him as he spills into you, warm and sticky as he fills you.

"You're mine Y/n. All mine baby," he grunts, bucking into you a few more times as he rides out his high.

---

Both showered and clean, you were cuddled in bed together, your legs in his lap as he rubbed your feet and you played with his hair at the nape of his neck.

"So he was really trying to diss me like that? Why would they invite me if they don't fucking like me?"

You laugh, shaking your head as you reply, "I know, right? It was awful, and who treats a guest like that? Such a creep."

"Hey."

"hey."

"Thanks for standing up for me."

"I love you Bo."

"I love you more, Y/N."

----

A/N: Now this, this was my most graphic fic yet, jesus. I hope you enjoyed- feel free to send in some more requests or suggestions. I like the feedback and reading your comments and reblogs! Bo Burnham masterlist and TAGLIST linked here.

Lots of love and don't forget to pee, wash your hands and clean your toys.

Taglist: @allexthakatt @shes-a-killer-queen-39 @ginger-abreu @dreamingofwolves @beeblisss @toread-fic

@mid-sommared

[t0shii]

% comforting them when they're upset

.! oikawa, tsukishima, matsukawa (sep) x gn!r

.! angst + fluff/ breakdowns, crying, etc. lightly proofread bc im lazy so sorry for any mistakes.

.! im so sorry if this is absolute word vomit or horse shit 😭 i tried my best though 😌 uhhh sorry for not posting yesterday i got my daith pierced and i was in a lot of pain after that so i didnt feel like writing anywho enjoy this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 p.s. i was originally gonna write for mad dog but i was struggling so i went with mattsun instead sorry. also idk why matsuns ended up being so short i didnt do him justice i apologize 😩

oikawa

— always gets discouraged when his knee bothers him. today was one of those days. his coach had made him sit out of practice because he had been limping a bit. he came home distraught and you noticed right away.

"what's the matter toru?" you asked opening your arms for a hug, which he accepted, wrapping his arms around your middle quite tightly. "my knee is bothering me again 'n coach made me sit out. it's just not fair." he mumbled into your shoulder. you could feel his tears soak through your shirt. you nodded and responded, "baby, he just doesn't want you to hurt yourself. i know it's not fair but-", "but i wanna play volleyball, i wanna get better and practice." he said, aggravated that you weren't exactly on his side, still he held you tighter.

"toru, baby, look at me." he does as told, and you bring your hands up to wipe his tear stained cheeks,"toru, you can't strain your knee anymore than you already do, you know this. i know you only want to play volleyball, baby i know, but you have to be patient." he nods in agreement and you do the same, then guiding his head back to your shoulder, "i know it's frustrating toru, but you can't force it, y'know? he wouldn't make you sit out if it wasn't for your best interest. you know that, deep down."

the two of you had been cuddling on the couch, his back against your chest when you heard him sniffling again, "toru, what's wrong?" you ask softly, sitting up slightly. "i'm so useless, my own knee can't even work right. the team deserves someone better and so d-do you" he hiccuped, hiding is face in his hands. you felt guilty for not comforting him more earlier. "toru, that's not true at all." you stated, forcing his hands into yours, "take it back right now." he looked at you confused. "toru oikawa i said take it back right this instant." you said a little sterner than before.

"no." he managed to get out through sobs, and you knew the stern method wasn't going to work this time around. "toru, please. you're not useless at all, not to anyone, not to the team, and especially not to me. you're the best teammate, friend and boyfriend anyone could ever ask for and your knee just needs a break sometimes, you just need a break sometimes and thats okay. needing a break doesn't make you useless or weak, toru." you say softly, guiding him to a sitting position, hugging him closely and tracing small, comforting shapes on his back.

"you're so so strong toru, and you're an amazing person, an amazing boyfriend, you're such an amazing volleyball player and i'm so proud of how far you've come since highschool." you say, kissing the crown of his head. "you mean it?" he asks leaning back to look at you, "i always do, toru. i love you more than anything, and i'm so so fucking proud of you, but you have to know, it's okay to need a break sometimes and it doesn't change who you are as a person and it definitely doesn't make you weak or useless. he nods in response, burrying his head into the crook of your neck. you both stay like that, you whispering words of affirmations, him listening fondly until he feels better a little while later.

tsukishima

— he usually didn't let the stress of professional volleyball get to him like this, but he couldn't help it he would be lying if he said he wasn't overwhelmed, from interviews, to extra practice to prepare for the overseas games he had coming up, he was exhausted, to add onto it all he had been neglecting you and he felt horrible for it.

you knew practice was going to be running late since your boyfriend had told you in advance, so you weren't initially worried as to why kei had been coming home late at night. this night in particular was the fourth night in a row kei been home late and you starting to grow concerned. you hadn't seen him hardly at all that week, which was unusual because he always made time for you no matter what. worried, you decided to stay awake and wait for him to get home.

when the time finally comes, your heart dropped at his appearance, he looked absolutely horrible, as if he hadn't slept right in weeks. "why are you up?" he mumbled, taking his shoes off rather sloppily, uncharacteristic of him. you made your way closer to yoir exhausted boyfriend, "kei, i'm worried about you. i know you don't like me meddling with your career, and please don't misunderstand my concern for that. i'm just worried you aren't getting enough rest and i've barely seen you at all this week." you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

you knew something was wrong when you saw the tear swell in his eyes, but he just stood there awkwardly, you walked closer toward him, "kei, what's wrong?" you ask, extending your arms toward him, which he basically fell into, he started sobbing immediately, shocking you initially. "i'm s-sorry for neglecting you this week, i didn't mean to i-i just-", "kei, i'm not worried about that, i'm worried that you aren't taking care of yourself properly." you mumble, patting his back comfortingly. to which he shakes his head no."work has been too much recently, i can't sleep and i barely have time to even think. its just practice, interviews, practice, interviews i-i can't handle it all anymore, y/n." he sobbed into your shoulder, you were speechless at his vulnerability.

"kei,-", "but i can't stop now because that'll make me a failure and i don't want to let you down and the team too, i just want to make everyone proud but i think i'm falling behind." he cried, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "kei, you could never let me down. actually, i think i've been letting you down recently, i don't tell you this enough but, i'm so so proud of you kei, so proud you don't even understand, i'm sorry for not expressing that enough to you. i understand that you feel as if you're falling behind but overworking and stressing yourself out isn't going to help you improve, kei, and i know you also know that."

"you're working yourself sick, kei and i can't stand here and continue to let that happen so you're taking a day off whether you like it or not. tomorrow will be a me and you day, how does that sound? i'll call your coach in the morning." honestly, you wouldn't have let him say no anyways, and he knew that so he just nodded his head. "look at me kei, you have to tell me when you're feeling overwhelmed. it's not good to keep things in like this, it's just like you tell me." he nods his head, but avoids eye contact, "and i'm not disappointed or upset at you, you know. but i can't read your mind, so please just tell me when things start to feel like they're crashing down on you 'kay? i'll help you just like you help me." you smile, he looks at you and nods, hugs you closer and whispers an "i love you" into your ear, which you return.

matsuwaka

— you knew his work was stressful and emotionally and mentally exhausting, so there were always worries in the back of your mind that he would become too overwhelmed, well today your worries became reality.

"welcome home issei." you called from the kitchen as your boyfriend walked through the door, though he offered you no response, which made you frown. "issei?-" you gasped when you felt a pair of strong arms sneak their way around your waist, "jesus, issei, you scared me!" you giggle placing your hands atop of his own, but you realized he was not laughing with you. "issei, baby?" concern laced in your tone as you maneuvered your way around to face him, "what's wrong baby?" you ask, taking his face in your hands to wipe at escaping tears.

"work was rough today." was all he said as he melted at the feeling of your thumbs running back and forth on his cheeks. "oh issei, i'm sorry." you mumbled, kissing the tip of his nose lightly, "is there anything i can do to help?" he didn't know why but something inside of him snapped when you asked him that, and sobs escaped his lips, he could only hide his face in the space between your neck and shoulder because for some reason he felt... ashamed to be crying in front of you like this. "please just hold me." he cried, so you did just that, shushimg him when his sobs got violent, rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly.

the both of you stood there for a good 15 minutes before you spoke up after he had calmed down a bit, "is there anything you need to get off your chest? you don't have to tell me now or even at all but i want you to know that whatever is bothering you, you can tell me, anything at all. i know your job is mentally exhausting and honestly i dont even know how you do it but i dont want you thinking you have to carry the burden of it alone, okay? i'm so proud of you, so so so proud of you issei, i just wanted you to know that."

you felt him nod in the crook of your neck, a soft, "thank you." sounding shortly after, "of course." you responded, kissing his shoulder a few time.he wasn't sure when he would feel completely ready to get things off his chest but he felt loved knowing that you would always be there to comfort him, and for that he was forever grateful.

[masterwords]

two tickets to paradise (pt. 5)

Summary: Derek takes Hotch on a much-needed vacation. (Post-Route 66) In this adventure they visit the laundromat, and Hotch gets made fun of a bit for his terrible accent when speaking Spanish.

Warnings: mentions of past abuse (hotch), parental death (past/canon/derek), food, alcohol

Words: 4.2k

Notes: Yeah it's more cute. That's all this is. Cute romancy shit. Because when I'm mean to them I need to make sure I'm also nice to them. Vacation continues!

Read on AO3: two tickets to paradise

** CHAPTER LIST **

**

He didn't bother to pack his hand brace. Couldn't imagine a time he'd need it. Sure, his hands hurt regularly and you could find him pumping his fists for a good ten minutes in the morning to loosen up sore joints after years of shooting guns and typing up reports and various traumatic injuries. He'd broken fingers, sprained wrists, bloodied knuckles...the years and his job had been unkind.

But he didn't bring anything for them because he hadn't needed them in so long and he wanted to pack light. Maybe silly, but true. After the surgery, his stomach hurting gave way to his back being constantly sore which meant he had to pack his damn heating pad and he really didn't have room for another daily irritation. He could count on Derek to have packed something he could use anyway. Derek was in the shower washing the sand out of all of his nooks and crannies, or attempting to anyway, after another afternoone traversing the beach and getting into all sorts of shenanigans while Hotch slept the daylight hours away. Things were getting precarious. Would he be fully nocturnal by the time vacation was over? He was starting to think it likely.

The embarrassing fall earlier that day, he knew, was the culprit for his sore wrist and stiff fingers. It was worth it, the hike itself had been the stuff of dreams...walking through ruins had been a childhood dream, a scrawny little boy reading about Spanish conquistadors but really only wanting to know more about the Mayans themselves. He couldn't have cared less about the men who came to take over their land, but these ruins, these temples and the sacred clay that had crumbled to dust...that meant something to him and no sore wrist could ever sour that. His skin had touched a piece of history, he'd held a shard of pottery, beheld something so much bigger than himself that the ache in his joints meant very little. Still, he might need to baby his left hand a bit in order to continue the fun, they had itineraries to follow. While Derek showered, Hotch rifled through his bag until he found his little first aid kit. It was messy, not well kept, there were band-aid wrappers crisp and dried, scattered and crumpled inside and the antibiotic ointment looked like it was probably from the 1980s, but he found a tattered old ace bandage with a bent up metal clip and figured that would do the job just fine. He wasn't about to be picky.

He wasn't injured, he was just sore. It took some doing to wrap it himself, but he managed it well enough...sloppy, a little loose, did the job. There was a little plastic ice pack in the freezer meant to be shoved into a cooler for food and drinks, so he nabbed it and wandered out to the patio to sit in the sun with ice on his sore hand for a while.

A beer would help. Crisp, golden, icy almost slush working from his throat to his belly. The way it spread its chilly tendrils through his chest made him suck the air in a little deeper and all he smelled was briny salt air...and he smiled. He smiled and he relaxed into the lounge chair, turning his face up at the afternoon sunlight as it blanketed their beach. No one was out now. This was the time they ate or they explored, the home hours were early and late. They had neighbors on both sides now, a fair distance away but they were there. The college kids were still hanging around another few days, spring break wasn't over yet. On the other side was a couple of newlyweds, not too young but younger than he and Derek. Of course Derek had already introduced himself and offered to have them over for dinner one night. He couldn't go anywhere without making friends, and Hotch thought maybe he was already sad that his college buddies would have to return to school before the two of them vacated the house. Heaven forbid it just be the two of them. But then the quiet newlyweds showed up, each of them on their second marriage, each coming in with children, a blended family making a fresh start.

They would be coming for dinner the next night, which meant real shopping, actual food in their fridge, a real plan. Hotch was almost giddy over the thought. He'd been doing his very best to live spontaneously, but he was a planner through and through and he'd felt so untethererd...it was nice to have this one thing. Just a little sliver of planned fun. He would find a board game, maybe, or they'd swim in the pool. They could use the grill outside, have some beers, laugh. He was a good planner. And now that he was relaxing and adapting into this vacation lifestyle, Derek had let him have the reigns for the little makeshift dinner party. “We need to do some laundry,” he'd said, writing a little list after Derek told him about the invitation. “Do a spot of cleaning up...get some groceries. Just a few. Enough to be proper hosts.” Derek grinned, watching the way he'd lit up over it.

But he wasn't doing any of it. None of the cleaning, he didn't quite feel up to it yet. They had another day, he wasn't bothered, wasn't worried. In another life he might have had a checklist and been doing something daily to make sure they were ready...now he was willing to get to it when he got to it.

“What's that?” Derek asked, wandering out onto the patio in nothing but his towel. He was indicating the half-ass scraggly bandage wrapped terribly around his hand, Hotch didn't need to look at him to know that much. He lifted his arm and tried to flex his stiff fingers with little movement. Only a wince.

“Sore,” he replied quietly. “It's fine. Just following protocol.”

“You wrapped it like shit. Clooney coulda done better”

Hotch scowled. “Clooney doesn't have thumbs.” He offered his hand to Derek without bothering to open his eyes, to argue further, he knew what Derek was going to say next. “Go ahead, your majesty.”

Derek's hands were gentle as he crouched beside Hotch and unwrapped the brown bandage. He held Hotch's hand in his for a moment, turning it over, examining it for the telltale swelling in his knuckles that made everything difficult. It didn't look too bad, that was a good sign. Slowly he began re-wrapping it, tighter, pulling the bandage especially close to his wrist to hold it in place. He would tell you it was the shooting and the typing until he was blue in the face, but Derek only saw Foyet mocking them in these moments. They would never be rid of him. He was a parasite that had attached itself to Hotch so completely that there wasn't any way to separate them. They just had to live with it now. Find ways to mitigate the damage.

But Derek didn't have tunnel vision. Holding Hotch's bandaged wrist in his hand, he thought about the first time he'd heard him say anything about it hurting. It was years ago, when things were new and exciting, when they were still hiding their middle of the night hotel room visits from everyone. Hotch had used his SUV as a battering ram somewhere in butt fuck Oregon, some highway surrounded by trees and right on a damn cliff. His memory wasn't as good as Hotch's and didn't hold a candle to Reid's, he could remember glimpses but not all of it. He did remember seeing him standing there on the side of the road with his gun drawn and his arm hanging limp at his side, he remembered making devastating eye contact and continuing to drive when that insufferable bastard waved him off, practically ordered him to keep going.

It was one of those moments where he was forced to consider what he wanted out of life. Choices he was making...right or wrong. Hotch wrecked his vehicle, he was bleeding, and for the job Derek did what? He didn't stop, he just kept going, followed the murdering bastard all the way to the edge of the cliff for no reason at all. He was already long gone. He'd made his choice before Derek made his to keep going. And wasn't that the same awful soul sucking choice that the unsub had made when he drove exhausted? Killing his wife? Derek wasn't sure how to live with himself then, but he found a way and he kept finding a way. Over and over. He supposed they both did, in their own ways. Hotch & Morgan were separate from Aaron & Derek, and that had to be it. Anything more and it got too complicated.

Easier to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission. If only he'd stopped. No more, they were in Mexico now on that same premise but he was making it work for him now.

This vacation was helping in ways Derek hadn't even contemplated. That Hotch would take the initiative here, before he was in misery, was a change he hadn't foreseen. He pulled Hotch's hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, smiling. “There. I'm telling Jess about this one.”

“She'll worry.”

“Nah, she's gonna be thrilled. You did this on your own! I didn't have to bully you. Between this and the naps...I'm not sure she's even gonna know who you are when you get back.”

That didn't exactly make Hotch smile, but the sentiment was sweet. He understood. “You never change.”

“I don't need to change. I'm already perfect. We're on your wellness journey here.”

Hotch rolled his eyes and let them close again. His hand already felt better in Derek's wrap, he knew what he was doing. A splash in the pool startled him, the cold water splashing against his bare legs and he looked in time to see Derek naked and swimming like a torpedo beneath the surface.

“What do you wanna do today?” he asked when he breached the surface, crystal droplets of water beading over his slick freshly shaven head. Hotch couldn't help smiling...he was gorgeous. Felt like all he did these days was smile and he hated to admit that Derek and Jess and Cruz were right. He did need this.

“We have to go do laundry. Clearly you're out of clothes, and I'm dangerously close. And that blanket...”

“That blanket isn't done seeing action, buddy.”

“No, I expect not. But our neighbors don't need to see what we do on vacation. It needs a wash.”

(x)

When he was nine, Hotch's mother packed a few outfits into a bag and dragged him out of the house while his father slept off a whiskey bender. A celebration, he'd said, won a big case. Don't you think you should pace yourself? She'd asked and was met with a bloody lip for all her concern. That was it, the end of her patience with his outbursts. His “fits” as she called them, explained them away. Excused them. Somehow it made sense to her that he'd take his anger out on them, she could make it make sense. His job was stressful, lives hung in the balance, but when he was happy and he still crumpled up his meaty fist and hurt Aaron? Hurt her? Well, there was no hope left.

They stayed in a roadside motel two towns over for a few nights with what little she had in her coffee can, and they ate lunch in the laundromat down the road. Peanut butter and jelly was cheap and easy. She always put extra jelly on hers, he only wanted the peanut butter. The jelly hurt his teeth and made his jaw tense.

They didn't have to. She had family she could have called, family with money, but she had an over abundance of pride so she never did. If she was going to leave her husband and save her son, she was going to damn well do it on her own. Not jump from one abusive relationship to another...because that's all it was. Her husband put hand on them, but her family tried to control her every move (and Aaron's future) with their money. She wanted desperately to be rid of all of it.

Just she and Aaron. And times were hard, but they managed.

They would sit with their greasy potato chips and she smiled easy and ate two, three little shitty sandwiches at a time while he picked his way through one. Looking back, he felt silly not realizing that she was eating more...and then two weeks into their carefree road trip, she started throwing up in the bathroom every morning. A quick trip to a women's clinic in the city and she knew they had to go home.

She was pregnant.

She and Hotch could live forever on her small wages from waitressing the breakfast shift at the diner attached to the motel. Discounted rates, good tips, lots of free food. The early morning crowd, mostly doctors and cops just off of their long shifts, tipped a pretty young lady well in those days. They'd been doing just fine...but another baby, no way. This was no life to bring a new baby into, she reasoned.

She needed her husband. They had to go home. Hotch felt like crying while he packed, but instead he just asked her for one more laundromat lunch date. She couldn't say no to him.

It started with a phone call. He watched from his perch beside the big metal dryer while she talked to his father on the pay phone. She looked so beautiful, he couldn't imagine how anyone would want to hurt her. But her features darkened, and she was harsh with him when he felt bold enough to try and convince her that they didn't need to go home. He could eat less, he wouldn't need any new school clothes, they could find a small apartment...he would sleep on the couch, she could have the bedroom and he didn't need any toys he promised. Begged.

The laundromat was where his good memories lived. Sometimes, when he was feeling lost or run down, he would throw his clothes into a bin and find the quietest most desolate laundromat he could just to be alone with his thoughts. His apartment had a washer and dryer, and for a while it was fine, but after Foyet...using it gave him a chill he couldn't shake, checking those oily shapeshifting shadows over and over when he walked by, when he stood too long. He found himself wishing for nights at the laundromat again.

Derek's memories of laundromats were a little different. Their washer broke almost every other month, it seemed, and his mother never had the money to fix it right away. When his father was alive, he could whack it with a wrench or tighten some hunk of metal inside and suddenly it would clunk along again until it rattled apart. It was a running joke in the house. But when he was gone, there was no one who knew which part to hit with the wrench, or which piece to tighten, so she would withhold the kids' allowance for a few weeks (always with the promise of catching up) to get it fixed. Until then, the family would pack up their dinner and clothes in trash bags and spend an evening at the laundromat. Kids with their homework, Fran with a romance novel, every person putting in equal shares of folding to make it go quicker. He and his sisters would run around the tables, play hide and seek, get into shouting matches over who was cheating at Monopoly and raid the bubblegum machines with any change their mother had leftover. (Or bits they found hiding under and behind machines. People dropped coins all the time into places adult hands couldn't quite reach but kid hands...it was like treasure.) They would leave with orange, green and blue tongues, clean laundry to last another week, and a handful of memories. (And maybe a headache for Fran, but a smile on her face.)

When Derek got his first paycheck, his first real paycheck, he bought his mom a brand new washer and dryer. He framed the old fix-it wrench and hung it on the wall above the new machines along with all of their memories of weekly visits to Bubbleland.

Now, the two of them and all of their mixed bag of memories were converging on a small laundromat in Sisal with outdated machines that rattled while they worked and took two or three attempts to actually get things dry. They were sure they could find another place, but this was right next door to where they wanted to have dinner so they would be able to put their clothes in the wash and go have a bite to eat, or get something to go and eat it there in the noisy room by themselves. The cashier played a game of dice with a few other men, laughing and drinking beer, completely uninterested in the only patrons of the place.

While Derek exchanged their money for coins at the desk, Hotch sat at a rickety little card table attempting to pre-treat their stained clothes with one hand. The other, still bandaged, was mostly useless. The soreness had become an unrelenting stiffness and he was doing his best to just forget he had two hands for the rest of the day. The only thing it was good for at the moment was being used as a way to pin the shirts to the table.

“Why don't you go order the food, I'll do this.”

Hotch looked so pathetic sitting there at the table with his busted up hand wrapped and elevated to shoulder level while he held the shirt to the table with his elbow and pressed the little stain remover pen over and over the beer spills and food stains. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose and dangled dangerously there, hanging on only barely and his long hair flopped in his face but neither broke his focus. He'd been living in his glasses since they landed in Mexico. Vacation, to him, meant not fooling around with contacts if nothing else.

It was cute. Derek didn't mind it so much, even if Hotch was ignoring him. “Okay. I'll go then.”

Hotch looked up and scrunched his nose. He didn't like the way Derek just...gave in. That wasn't right, he was supposed to put up a little fight. “No, help me get these in the wash and we'll go together. We can eat there.”

Derek couldn't say no to that, and why would he? Dinner at the restaurant sounded heavenly. He was practically salivating over their chicken mole, he'd eaten it three times already and couldn't get enough. They knew him by name already. Hotch hadn't gotten the same thing twice, and that was shocking, the way they'd swapped roles for once. The first night he'd had the ceviche, and then some shrimp tacos, and then some other fish dish he couldn't pronounce. “What are you getting tonight?” Derek asked when they entered the sidewalk.

“Lobster. You're paying, right?”

No one in the restaurant spoke English, and the two of them spoke barely passable Spanish though they were improving considerably over their time. Hotch could read it and understand fairly well but his accent was garbage and they'd laughed at him more than once. Derek had more of a flair for trilling his R's and he had more flair.

“You sound like the um...oh...Bueller...Bueller...you know?” the man who ran the laundromat had said in his thick accent the first time they'd appeared in his establishment and Hotch had attempted to converse with him. It didn't prove necessary, anyway, the man spoke perfect English and enjoyed mocking Hotch endlessly. His name was Jorje, and even saying his name elicited mockery if it came from Hotch. He wasn't used to anyone ribbing him like this...it caught him off guard and led to a very serious discussion with Derek on the way home about how he felt about that.

“You hated it,” Derek had said seriously. “You wanted to pull rank didn't you?”

“No,” Hotch replied indignantly. “It's just that...” his voice trailed off for a moment before he huffed a little and stopped. “No one but you and Jessica ever talk to me like that.”

“Well. Get used to it. These people don't need to know that they should be afraid of you. They see some middle aged guy with floppy hair in need of a trim, wearing his incredibly handsome boyfriend's clothes because his were too khaki, who walks a little stiff and is probably a little too quiet for his own good...”

“My hair needs a trim?” What he really wanted to take aim at was the middle aged bit, but his back hadn't stopped hurting in about four solid weeks now so he really had no legs to stand on. His own two didn't even want to do the job. Derek had only laughed and hooked his arm around Hotch's waist.

“Let it go. Embrace the anonymity. Let Jorje talk his shit. You can take it. Might even deserve it.”

This wasn't their first or last trip to the washers. Derek couldn't pass up the chance to be around anyone who had the nerve to talk to Hotch this way so while Hotch had, in a sort of off-hand way, suggested they try out another laundromat down the road with more updated equipment...Derek wouldn't hear of it.

This kind of fun was uncommon at best in their daily lives. This was a treat.

“Your hand still bothering you?” Derek asked while they waited for their food. Hotch was fiddling with the bandage mindlessly and shrugged.

“It's fine. Not bad. Just stiff.”

Derek understood that. He'd blown his knee out in college and could still wake up some mornings without being able to bend it for a full ten minutes after waking. Like it locked in place. A thumb jabbed in right beneath the kneecap seemed to loosen it up just fine, and it didn't hurt so he'd just ignore it the same way Hotch ignored his inability to make a fist some days. They were getting old and all of the abuse they'd thrown at their bodies would be creeping up on them, one by one. They wouldn't be outrunning any of it. The idea was just that they each knew how to fix the other's little...quirks.

Hotch's was coming faster these days, thanks to Foyet, but that didn't mean he was alone. They would get old side by side if Derek had his way. And he hoped that Hotch would see it that way, too. Hotch could walk with his cane and push Derek in his wheelchair and they'd still be gorgeous.

That was the plan anyway.

Emily told him he was an idiot. She'd said it in no uncertain terms, that he needed to watch Hotch. “You don't hide things,” she'd warned him. “You might ignore them for a while but you don't hide them. He doesn't know any other way. Watch him.” Two weeks later he was bleeding to death on the inside and none of them was any the wiser.

“You'd tell me if it was more than that, right?” Derek asked, suddenly a little too serious as he chewed on Emily's words. Hotch stopped playing with the bandage long enough to take in the solemn look that washed over Derek's features, the way his bright eyes went stormy. He didn't have a response to that. Not sure what to say. He knew what Derek wanted him to say, but he couldn't see how this compared. This was just...it was just pain. Not even pain...not even that bad...it was just something. Or it wasn't anything. It wasn't going to kill him, it was just going to make it hard for him to fold their clothes in an hour. It was going to make it hard for him to hold a pen or give a hand job or play volleyball in the morning or any number of other things...but it wasn't going to kill him.

“Derek, I'm fine. I've been...”

Derek's hands flew up defensively and waved. “No, stop, no...I know. I'm sorry. I get caught up sometimes. I know. I just hate the idea that you're suffering while we're here. With your back and then your hand...”

“I'm not suffering. It's a nuisance, sure, fine. But it isn't bothering me at all. I'm having a great time.”

“You wouldn't lie to me?”

“Well,” Hotch grinned and Derek frowned. “No. Honest. Sinceramente.”

Derek rolled his eyes and let out a loud burst of laughter that caught the attention of everyone in the tiny restaurant. “God you really do sound like the teacher from Ferris Bueller...naw, you know what you sound like? One of those computer translators they got on like Google and shit. You sound like Siri, but the Ben Stein version. Siri...how do you say honestly in Spanish? Sinceramente.”

Hotch's pout didn't even phase him.

It did lead to kissing in the street. Ducked in the space between the buildings for a few minutes communing with the shadows. Hotch may only have had one hand that worked the way he'd like, but he didn't need more than that right now.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, encouraging, justifying, promoting nor romanticizing yandere behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warnings: Mentions of toxic relationships, violence, degradation, physical/mental abuse, kidnapping, hostage holding, self-harm, attempted murder and other yandere behavior. Read at your own discretion.

���━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟹𝚛𝚍, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟽𝟾 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟻'𝟷𝟶 𝙵𝚃.

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□90%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙳𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜.

𝙱𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He was the school's and the town's heartthrob.

From the time he was young, every girl was in love with him and every boy wanted to be him.

From the tenderest of age, old folks were praising how cute and adorable he was.

That's just how Park Seonghwa grew up, being admired and loved by everyone around him. He was so used to his little club of adoring fans.

He dated, or more like, messed around with more than a couple of girls in his classes.

Not a single one of them was immune to his charms, even if at first they said they'd never ever fall for him. They always fell like dominoes.

And then the day finally came....The day someone ignored him, the day someone didn't worship the ground he walked on.....

The day someone not only refused but humiliated him in front of others.

You had recently moved into the small town, wanting to get away from all the bustling and, in your opinion, futile life of the city.

So you moved somewhere more quiet, serene, calm.

You only wanted a nice and comfortable life, and with the small but sturdy job you accepted, it allowed you to have a comfortable living.

For a while, no one really noticed or payed the to you, and those that did were wary of you.

You couldn't blame them. A stranger suddenly moves into their town? Of course they'd be careful.

You were very observant and in that time you observed Seonghwa.

He was good looking you had to admit, but he had come into the shop with a girl by his side which suggested to you they were an item.

Meaning he was off limits so you didn't bother to think about him.

But then he came in weeks later with a different girl, which threw you off a little.

And then a different girl, then another and you saw the pattern.

You shook your head and cringed at him. "Fuck boi." You muttered every time you saw him.

It didn't take long for him to hear about the new girl in town.

Which to him meant another heart to steal and a pair of legs to open and add to his collection.

He was with his friends, who were anxious to see what would happen.

You saw him confidently stride up to you, cocky grin on his face as his eyes looked you up and down. You internally scoffed.

"Don't think you can easily play me boy." You resolved in your head to wipe that smirk off.

"Hey gorgeous. Come here often?" He winked at you.

"I work here." You responded with absolutely no emotion or expression, barely giving him a glance as you arranged the shelves in the store.

He moved so you could see him better, thinking it would cause you to melt, but you just stared straight at him as if he wasn't there.

"If you need any assistance, please ask one of the managers. I only stock the merchandise."

You had to hold back from laughing at his shocked face, probably because no girl had ever not blushed or become flustered from his close proximity.

You moved away from him to put some articles on the next aisle.

Not giving up, Seonghwa followed after you, his friends trailing close behind you.

He tapped your shoulder to get your attention again.

For the first time in his life, a girl glared at him as if he was no more than a bug....

That was strike one for him.

"Listen...... I.......just wanted to get your number?" He couldn't believe that he was actually sweating nervously.

"Sorry. I don't give my number to strangers." You stated.

Seeing an opportunity, Seonghwa smiled flirtatiously at you.

"Well then maybe I should take you out. Then we won't be strangers. Maybe we could even get...really close." He licked his lips.

His face froze when he saw you roll your eyes at him.

That was strike two.

"Thank you but no. And if you'll excuse me."

You moved to leave him there again, but his hand reached out and gripped your wrist, a little too rough for your liking.

"Come on darling...no one's ever said no to me."

Yanking your hand away, you looked at him with disgust as you told him:

"I believe I just did."

Those words and the snorts and giggles from his friends behind him were strike three for him.

In that moment something snapped in him.

How dare someone like you reject him? The Park Seonghwa.

He was so stunned by your actions that he couldn't get you out of his mind from then on.

He no longer looked at any other girls.

His thoughts were fixated on you and only you.

He had to win you over, he just had to.

You were the ultimate challenge and he was going to make sure he was victorious.

But you made it so damn difficult.

Every. Single. Time.

You never hid how much he annoyed you and that pissed him off so much.

Days turned to a month, then 3 and still you kept refusing him.

The final straw for him was when he tried gifting you a rather expensive necklace that would have anyone else swooning.

Not batting a wink, you threw the case back to him.

"I'm not some whore you can buy for the night just cause you feel like it. Go find someone else to be your toy, fuckboi."

He gripped the case so harshly it actually bent, eyes staring daggers at you as you walked home.

"You're not getting away so easily. You're going to regret this."

You were surprised when you didn't see Seonghwa the next day..

Or for an entire week.

But you shrugged it off, perhaps he had finally learned his lesson and opted for leaving you alone.

Walking home, you couldn't help but feel like something eerie was going to happen.

You tried ignoring it by plugging in your headphones and just head home as soon as possible. It was dark and cold.

You weren't paying attention to your surroundings so you didn't see nor hear the car that was heading straight to you.

You only felt something knock you to the ground, immediately passing out from your head hitting the pavement.

The driver got out of the vehicle, his dark orbs staring down at your unconscious figure.

Bending down, he tilted your chin to look at your bloody face.

"I told you would regret this."

You woke up sore and with a pounding headache days later.

But more than anything, you woke up frightened when you saw you were chained down on a chair, wrists bound on the arm rests and feet tied to the legs.

Who the hell would kidnap you?

Your answer came in the form of Seonghwa himself, coming into the dimly lit basement where he held you.

He smirked as he saw you swallow harshly when he came close to you, face bending down at eye level to you.

"You can get out of this whole mess you know...."

Cupping your chin, he brought his lips dangerously close to yours.

"Just give in to me and agree to be mine."

You swore this had to be a joke. He'd go through all this trouble just for this shit?

Unable to stand his close proximity, you opted for showing your contempt for him by spitting on his face........something he did not take kindly to.

He looked at you as if you committed a heinous crime. And he wasn't going to let you get away with it.

Lifting your face up, he slapped you several times across the face, not satisfied until your nose was bleeding and your cheeks were stinging so badly, there was going to be bruising for sure.

You cried out when he harshly gripped your burning cheeks, adding even more pain.

"Sooner or later, you'll have to give in. The more you resist, the worse it'll get."

He left you there for 3 days, or a week. You honestly couldn't remember, you were going in and out of consciousness for a while.

When he finally let you out, you thought he'd be a little more nicer to you, but you were wrong.

Things only got worse.

You were being treated worse than an animal.

You couldn't walk anywhere, you had to crawl. You weren't allowed to use utensils for food, nor your hands.

The first time you tried to refuse to these rules, Seonghwa shoved you to the floor and dragged you by the hair across the hallway.

And as for food, he smashed your face into the bowl, you were surprised it didn't break from how hard he did it.

You could never look him in the eye or else you'd get struck across the cheek.

"Never look your betters in the eye. You should be grateful I even spare a glance at such a lowlife like you."

He lived, no...he thrived out of humiliating you.

It was sickening to know that such an individual could hate someone so much to go out of their way to try and dominate them to such an extent.

The times he was actually being 'nice' to you, his voice was filled with mock pity, talking to you as if you were his little pet.

It was those times where you truly couldn't hold back and glared at him.

And it always end with you back in the basement, stripped naked, and left there for days in the cold, body bleeding and sore from the canning he gave you.

And everytime he came back, he'd always say the same thing:

"You could end all of this if only you'd love me."

More than once you thought about giving in, even if just pretending.

He couldn't possibly treat you any worse than he did now.

But your inner strength, independence and repulsion from him kept you from giving in.

You'd rather die than ever let Park Seonghwa win and give him that. satisfaction.

But the day you found out you were pregnant with his kid, you knew you had to get out of there.

You were not going to allow a child to be raised by a monster.

You never told him anything, he couldn't know. You even resorted to cutting yourself so he'd believe you were still menstruating.

And for months you played it nice, obeyed him so he wouldn't cause you harm or to the baby.

He actually began to soften up, thinking he had finally broken you into the perfect lover he imagined.

"Fucking idiot."

That was the exact thing you thought when you finally allowed him to kiss you, instead of the forced ones he'd usually give you.

Taking advantage that his guard was down, you pulled out the knife you had hidden and didn't hesitate to plunge it on his side.

He pulled back in shock, but had no time to react because you just took out the knife and plunged it back in...

Over and over again until he layed unconscious on the floor.

Blood was everywhere and you honestly couldn't believe you did that.

Choking back the tears, you scrambled to find anything that could help you break the lock, which you eventually found.

You ran out of that place, never looking back.

You didn't run into the direction of the town, people would be too suspicious.

You ran towards the direction of the highway, hoping someone would find you and take you to the nearest hospital or police station.

It seemed luck was on your side as a woman immediately stopped when she saw you running.

She didn't hesitate to help you out, taking you to a hospital so you could get checked up.

You lied and simply said you had been kidnapped and managed to escape, feigning that you don't remember who your kidnapper was.

The police bought your story and more so dropped the interrogation when you said you didn't want to press charges and just wanted to lay low for a while.

You moved all the way across the country, far far away from the place of hell you were in.

You quickly got a job and a small, but comfortable home to raise your newborn daughter in.

She was such a cute and beautiful baby, looking like an exact replica of her father which somewhat haunted you but you pushed those thoughts aside.

Time had passed, you were safe, she was safe and almost a year old, and you'd never have to worry about that insane man ever again.........

So you believed.

Unaware of the piercing eyes that were looking through your opened window, staring at you as you fed yours and his baby.

"You'll love me in the end....."

[angelhummel]

For the remake of the original show, you have been asked which plot you’d completely reverse and rewrite

1) Let Santana come out unforced in her chosen time

2) Let Kurt get into Nyada first time, and Rachel have to reapply

3) Finn generally

4) season 6

Which would you choose?

Okay well if I choose to fix 3 then 1 is automatically fixed so... Two birds one stone! I have to go with number 3

I mean full disclosure if it was just a remake then I wouldn't bother bc I probably wouldn't watch. The actors are the ones that made the show what it was tbh. Anyone else just couldn't do what they did. But if I were able to go back in time and somehow worm my way into the writers' room and RM actually gave a shit about what I had to say, then that's what I'd do!

After typing everything out... This has to be the most wordy rant I’ve ever written at once. What follows is literally 2250 words of pure uncut Finn hate. So please do not proceed if you know you don’t want to read that.

Finn is just such a fundamentally broken character. He was horribly written in canon. Worse than Rachel, and that's saying something. His whole being is one giant walking contradiction

He storms out of the club more often than Rachel does. He was forced to join before any of the other jocks, sure, but he was on the fence time and time again while Puck, Mike, and Matt already made their decision to join and stay. Yet he's constantly praised as the uniter of cliques, the first jock to cross the line and try glee, the one who made glee club "kind of cool"

They say he was the first jock to be nice to any of the "losers". When he was still willing to slushy Kurt in ep 8 - again, after the other jocks chose glee over football. Not to mention the actual slurs he used. Doesn't sound very nice to me

He was always insulting Rachel, even when he was sooo into her. CONSTANTLY telling her how crazy she was, giving her backhanded compliments, was at a complete loss to come up with something nice to say about her besides she's a good singer. No problem cheating on Quinn with Rachel. Even when he thinks Quinn is literally carrying his child, he's fine ogling Rachel right in front of her. And he had no problem leading Rachel on and letting her think she had a chance with him, just to manipulate her to rejoining the club for his own gain. That almost feels like giving Finn too much credit but. It did happen

He only manages to choose Rachel bc he learns Quinn was lying to him. Then the second he chooses Rachel, he gets bored of her and wants to go around with Santana and Brittany instead. He fucks Santana, then lies to Rachel about it for as long as he can manage

And god. Santana. He fucks her, tells her it didn't mean anything to him, then expects her to keep his mouth shut so he can keep lying to Rachel's face from now until infinity. Then flash forward a couple of years and he literally outs Santana. Not just to the whole school, but to the whole entire fucking state. And he's supposed to be the good guy in this situation bc he clumsily tries to make up for this horrible offense that was 1000% avoidable, and entirely his fault in the first place

AND HE TELLS HER SHE MEANS SOMETHING TO HIM BC SHE WAS HIS FIRST. Absolutely NO other reason comes to mind, just that his penis was in her vagina in sophomore year. And that's why he doesn't want her to kill herself. It's been almost exactly a decade since that, and I'm still in complete fucking disbelief. And then he's hailed as the hero for singing the most offensive song on the entire show to "help Santana accept herself" or whatever bullshit they tried to spin. Seriously, I'd rather listen to Mr. Schue sing La Cucaracha on a loop for three hours than try to get through Finn singing Girls Just Want To Have Fun even one fucking time

And back to Finchel bc I'm not fucking done with them. He is the worst boyfriend in the entire fucking world. He shows time and time again that he knows so little about Rachel. He feeds her meat bc he forgets she's a vegan. She literally gives him a list of things she wants for Christmas (which was stupid anyway but) and he gives her a fucking pig when 1) vegan, again, and 2) she's Jewish and pork isn't kosher. Double whammy

And the way he gets offended that she won't consider what he wants to do with his future. When she's been dreaming of NY and Broadway practically her whole life, whereas he just thought of LA like five minutes ago. And now she's the unreasonable one for not wanting to give up her dreams for that? Ok buddy...

And this is all s3, supposedly the middle part of their epic romance. When Rachel loses her virginity to him. Bc her pussy is a consolation prize for being passed over by the football recruiter. And when Finn proposes to her. Bc he literally thinks he has nothing else going for him so he might as well have a wife. And Rachel only accepts bc she thinks she won't get into NYADA and she'd rather have a husband than nothing. And then the second she gets accepted to NYADA she's like "oh right, Finn..."

And then he makes a huge life changing decision for her on his own, without her input. It was the right decision, but she still deserved a say in her own fucking future. He forces her onto a train to NY and then drops all contact with her FOR MONTHS. And then he shows up in NY expecting to just pick up where they left off! He's pissed to see her with someone new! And she straight up tells him (and us) that she HATED him for what he did to her! And I don't blame her. How can you??

Finchel was never a good couple. In the first two seasons, it was all cheating and lying and indecision. In s3 it only calmed down bc all the outside forces left them alone. They had nothing to do with Quinn, Santana, Puck, or Jesse. All the turmoil was coming from the two of them. They never agreed on anything. Even every one of their so called amazing romantic gestures was tainted by something foul. Consolation pussy, marriage as a fallback, etc

And god. Don't get me started on Finn's horrible violent streak. You already know how I feel about this. In the best case scenario, he's kicking and screaming and throwing furniture around. Worst case, he's assaulting people left and right. He beats Puck up twice, constantly trying to fight with Sam, with Jesse, even with poor sweet Joe who's honestly too dumb to be mad at

In s3 he comes close to assaulting Quinn at prom. She's been in a fucking wheelchair for months and he sees her walk two feet and automatically assumes she's been lying about everything and can walk perfectly fine without any assistance. So he causes a scene in front of the whole school, calling her crazy (bc that's the only way Finn can describe women), SCREAMING at her, and grabbing at her like he's trying to pull her out of her chair! That is literal psycho behavior, I don't care how you try to slice it

The Brody fight. I know I don't have to say it. But lurking in a hotel room in order to jump a sex worker is also psycho behavior. I hate him for that. And then bc it's Finn, he's praised as the good guy and Rachel is flattered he did that for her. To "defend her honor". Whereas irl she'd probably be taking out a restraining order on his crazy ass

And then he fucking dies. And he apparently ascends to sainthood. I know it was a tragedy what happened, but oh my god. It makes me sick how they treated this character after he died. There was never so much bullshit spewed on the show than any time they talked about Finn in the later seasons

He sought out Sam in order to find someone worthy to take over the club for him when he graduated. What?! That is the funniest fucking thing Glee ever wrote. He did the same thing with Rory, going up to the new guy and being like "I'm the quarterback :) That makes me very cool!" to try and get them to do what he wants. Like trying his damnedest to keep Sam from singing with Kurt even tho Sam was totally cool about it and also not homophobic. And then Sam gets quarterback and Finn definitely stops trying to recruit him lol. And then they fight off and on for the rest of s2 basically. So yeah. That was certainly a selfless and altruistic mission for Finn

He didn't bother with Blaine in s3 bc he knew there was no point in even trying to manipulate Blaine. He might be the new guy at McKinley, but he was already wise to Finn’s bullshit thanks to Kurt. So instead he just acted antagonistic towards Blaine from the start. Blaine literally only opened his mouth to agree with something Finn said, and Finn is already jumping on him, telling him "this isn't the warblers we don't wear blazers here we're a team" while still holding onto his leader position with an iron fucking fist

He literally intentionally tried to get under Blaine's skin by getting his hopes up for the number in 3x06. He says "let's give the solo to the new guy" and Blaine smiles like he means him. And Finn literally looks right at Blaine when he says "Rory". For what. But of course Blaine turns right around and is like "you can do it, rory!" bc Blaine is classy and not a fucking antagonistic moron

Honestly Finn's beef with Blaine is one of the most insulting. I mean there's no excuse for his behavior towards anyone. But even if you tried your damnedest to excuse him (and plenty of people do) then it's like. "Oh Kurt was coming on too strong" "Oh Quinn and Puck lied to him" "Oh Rachel is annoying and I hate her and she deserves all the bad things" but with Blaine it's literally like. He's the new guy that Finn can't keep under his thumb so he's not even going to pretend to tolerate him. He literally says "I was kind of jealous. Your talent freaked me out" and so that's why he's been acting like such a cunt for two months. And of course the show paints that as totally valid and now it's okay and he and Blaine are besties they even fist bump <3 Like give me a fucking break. It makes me sick. I block every single Flaine gifset I have the misfortune of seeing on my dash

I'm sure there are so many other specifics I didn't cover but I probably have covered them at some point or another in another long anti Finn rant on my blog. Literally everything about his character is handled poorly. Glee shows us time and time again that he's an angry, rude, petty, vindictive asshole with a violent temper who acts impulsively and cares about no one but himself. But they tell us he's a fearless leader, selfless, kind, generous, altruistic, nurturing, and an all around great guy! So which one would you believe?? I know my answer!

I honestly don't know what I'd do to change him. The devil in me says to just take him out completely. The show would instantly improve. Glee is supposed to be about the underdogs. We don't need a six season through line about how the minority kids need to open their hearts and minds to accept and follow the lead of the cishet white male jock

I understand focusing on him in s1. Like I said about Mr. Schue earlier, he's one of our original main characters. And he projects all his childhood missed opportunity bullshit onto Finn. So of course we'd see more of him through Will's eyes. But holy shit. Put him in the background of s2 and beyond

By the end of s1 he did about everything he had to do at least once. I get so fucking tired seeing him have to go through the same bullshit and learn the same lessons over and over again. I don't want to see him be a bigot just to be hailed as the hero five minutes later bc he did the bare minimum to fix his own horrendous fuck up. Same with his bullshit relationship drama. Oh he cheated? Oh he lied? Again? Groundbreaking. I'm on the edge of my seat! What'll he do next?? Oh, more of the same? Ok...

Honestly Finn is one of my least favorite parts of the whole show. I can't even imagine how amazing Glee would be if it didn't rely so heavily on being tethered to this one horrible little boy. If the entire show didn't act like it hinged on the super hero Finn who can do no wrong and is the fucking king saint god of the entire universe. If the show was even half as much up Finn's ass, if he just got fairly reprimanded for the bullshit he did... It would instantly be SUCH an improvement

Obviously every character on this show has their problems. But Finn is the worst of the worst of the worst. Nothing about him makes sense. The character is fucking rotted from the inside out. Like I said, every single tiny thing we're shown vs told is a contradiction. If you just went by word of mouth, Finn would sound fucking amazing! But I have eyes and ears and a brain, so I can see what Finn does and hear the things he actually says. And I know that the Finn we're told about, and the Finn we see, have absolutely zero overlap. And that's why his character is the bottom of the fucking barrel :)

So yeah that's what I'd fix about Glee if I had the power to fix one thing. Thanks for the ask babe! xx

[julemmaes]

Honey - part three

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au

A/N: famous last words: I can finish this is in two hours. six hours laters and I feel like I’ve been beaten up by a gang of bigass old faes if you know what I mean.

IT CONTAINS SMUT, not suited for readers under 18

Please be kind I fucking hate my smut, if it’s disgusting just don’t comment on it cause I could hit my head on the wall several times

masterlist

Word count: 7,519

Aelin's scream was like a stab to the brain, "Get up you nasty little bitch!"

"Ace! Why don't you try with sweet Ellie?" retorted Lysandra.

Elide didn't even have the strength to open her eyes or move from the fetal position she was in, curled up with a pillow pushed so hard against her belly that she wouldn't have been surprised if it had somehow damaged her internal organs, "Please leave."

The two didn't seem to hear her.

"Sweet?" Aelin huffed, "But you did see her last night, right?"

Elide opened one eye, seeing that they had both sat down at the end of the bed. She felt the cracks tugging at her eyelid and grunted, pressing her face into the pillow. She wanted to die. And she wanted Manon to come and free her from those two supposed friends who she knew were about to remind her of her misadventures.

"Except for what happened before we left," Aelin winked, placing a hand on her foot. Elide withdrew it, not wanting to feel physical touch of any kind at that moment. "I would have been willing to break up with Rowan so I could get between Kyllian and you, honestly."

Elide grunted again, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm begging you girls, you need to get out before I throw up again."

And it was true, she would throw up if they didn't stop talking. Plus, Elide didn't care in the slightest what the drunk her had done. She hated her so much.

Lysandra giggled and she felt it as she climbed between the covers until she was settled next to her on the pillows, "Between her and Lorcan though, no?"

The cry of disgust that erupted from Aelin and the all too loud laugh from the other didn't make Elide register the words right away, but as soon as she realised what they had said, her stomach began to twist and turn, and not like when Lorcan accidentally brushed her hand or when he put his hand on her thigh during movie nights. Oh no.

With a movement she didn't know she had the physical skills to make, she shifted the covers off her body and launched herself into the hallway, slamming her hand against the bathroom door and throwing herself to the floor in front of the toilet before the highly concentrated alcoholic contents in her stomach spilled onto the floor.

As she vomited and Lysandra tied up her hair, massaging her back, Elide felt her heart break slowly. She wanted to turn around, to ask Aelin what had happened, or maybe not. She groaned as another gag shook her body and her eyes filled with tears once more as she puked what could only be alcohol.

"How do you still have stuff in your stomach?" muttered Aelin from outside the bathroom door.

Elide didn't blame her, vomit was disgusting and she was particularly sensitive to the sound of gagging. The only reason Lysandra wasn't the least bit uncomfortable was her younger sister Evangeline, who she had practically raised without anyone's help. Whatever came out of a person's body, their friend had already seen it in all shapes and colours.

Elide cursed herself for thinking such a thing while she was bent over the toilet throwing up, because it pushed her over the edge one more time and a sob wracked her body, "Fuck-" she managed to mutter between spits.

"I thought you weren't going to barf any more after last night," Lys said, continuing to rub her back.

"True," Aelin mumbled a little louder, "did you keep drinking after?"

Elide managed to turn her head towards the door, seeing that her friend was sitting on the floor just outside the bathroom. She grimaced as a gust of air that smelled like vomit reached her nose, "After what?"

"You and Lorcan left after you threw up," Lys explained to her. Elide didn't bother turning towards her, she didn't have the energy, "And you threw up so much Ellie, everywhere. It's weird that you have anything else to reject."

It wasn't weird at all considering the only thing Elide remembered was the amounts of alcohol she had ingested. She'd started just before seven with straight tequila, desperate to see how indifferent people were to the biggest catastrophic problems in human history, and everyone knew she couldn't handle alcohol even in small amounts. But Elide was also known to be the type who could drink for hours without ever feeling sick, if she now found herself bent over the toilet the next morning, it meant she had gone too far.

"I don't remember anything."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Aelin said and Elide felt a shiver run through her body at the hint of mischief in her voice. She braced herself mentally to hear how much she'd actually whored out the night before, "We're here to fix the memory loss."

Lysandra made a disgusted noise as Elide flushed the toilet and the water stirred underneath them, but she patted her shoulders and pulled herself up, "You need to take a shower first though. Because you smell like death."

"Geez, thanks," Elide murmured as she began to undress.

The grin that appeared on Aelin's face made her hands freeze around the hem of her shirt. The other arched an eyebrow, looking into her eyes, "What? Lorcan is the only one you can flash?"

Elide closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her face and then let go a scream of frustration.

"Exactly."

Oh, god.

"I remember..." Elide scoffed, running her hands through her hair. When her fingers reached the tips, she was horrified to find they were encrusted with what was surely vomit from the night before. "Fuck."

Lysandra snickered beside her, "Why were you so drunk that you didn't realise what you were doing so damn early?"

Elide looked at her, and although she knew the question was only asked to tease her more, there was a note of concern in her tone. Her shoulders sagged a little and she shook her head, starting to undress undisturbed, "I set out to research a few things and the world is a shitty place and there was nothing I could do in the immediate future to save us all so I got drunk."

"Sounds like alcoholism," Aelin joked.

Both Lysandra and Elide laughed, "If you knew what I found out you'd get drunk too," the latter added.

"Send everything my way." the blonde winked at her, and then they went out, leaving her alone to wash away the sins of the night before and letting her mind travel. And Elide's mind travelled far too much as she racked her brains to remember Lorcan's reactions to a naked her.

After her friends had told her everything that had happened the night before. From her taking her clothes off in front of her best friend, to him getting stuck in their bathroom and calling Aelin for help, to her dancing with Kyllian specifically to make her roommate jealous - or so the drunk her seemed to have justified her actions - to Fenrys saving her from what was sure to end up being just casual sex that would only widen the gap between her and Lorcan.

Gap that apparently wasn't as pronounced as she thought.

Aelin and Lysandra had told her about the way he had pushed his way through the crowd and joined Elide on the dance floor. The way they had danced to one of their favourite songs until they had been on the verge of kissing.

Elide had never been so relieved to know that she'd thrown up on someone. And that her plan to attract Lorcan had worked.

She was cooking now, thinking about how bad it would have been for her to find out they'd kissed without having even the slightest recollection of it happening, when the front door opened and the boy who was the object of her dreams walked into the kitchen.

He stopped in the doorway, looking at her with the most emotionless face Elide had ever seen him wear.

"Hello, handsome." she murmured, continuing to cook.

Lorcan stood still in the threshold for a while without saying anything, as if to sort the situation out. Then, without taking his eyes off what she was doing, he took off his jacket and shoes and walked into the kitchen, "How are you feeling?"

Elide had her back to him as she washed some tomatoes, "Just a bit of a headache. I threw up again when I woke up, but other than that I'm fine."

"Did you drink some water? Had breakfast?" he asked her.

Elide shook her head looking at him, "I woke up after noon, Aelin and Lysandra came over." then frowned, "I think it's their fault I threw up."

Lorcan chuckled, "Sure, absolutely." then he gathered his hair into a messy bun and Elide focused on the way the muscles of his biceps tensed every time he pulled on the elastic, "It's not the alcoholic coma from last night at all."

Elide gathered some courage and taking a deep breath, said, "About last night-"

"We don't have to talk about it," Lorcan immediately interrupted her.

She looked up at him, trying not to show any emotion, trying to read his on that sculptural face that remained impassive. Then, seeing the way he was looking at her, she came to a conclusion.

She arched an eyebrow, plastering a grin on her face, "Does this mean you didn't like my tits?"

Lorcan turned red in the face before stuttering, "No. I mean, yes! No, fuck. Shit... I don't know."

Elide chuckled and began to dress their salad, "You've never seen a pair of tits before?" she asked knowing full well how untrue that was.

When she had moved into the flat, both she and he had had their own wild nights out where they brought home a different partner every weekend. On one occasion, Elide had been stunned when she came out of her room and bumped into a girl she had spent the night with a few weeks earlier. The girl had only bid her good morning, winking, before returning to Lorcan's room.

"No, it's not that," he muttered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So surely you'll have other samples to compare my boobs to and you'll be able to tell me if they're above average," she continued, prolonging this gentle torture.

He sat down, both elbows resting on the table, and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds, then whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making our lunch," she replied innocently.

She heard him breathe through his nose, "Why are we talking about your tits, I meant?"

"Uh," she smiled, casting him another quick glance, "I didn't think you were so grossed out that you can't even handle a conversation about them."

The frown on his face went deeper and deeper. He remained silent for so long that Elide thought he would never say anything again, that she would never get his thoughts on her breasts, but when she served the salad, sitting down in front of him, he finally spoke.

"It's not that," he repeated, looking away, "they're very nice. Balanced." he began to eat undisturbed and Elide grimaced in amusement, finding a way to keep the conversation going.

"Balanced? What are they? An economic system?"

Lorcan clenched his jaw, setting his fork down on his plate and looking into her face again. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, that she was risking losing her sanity, but she had to know, had to-

"They're perfect and, maybe they are because they're attached to you, but they're probably the most beautiful tits I've ever seen."

Elide's brain shut down. And he seemed to realise it too because the shadow of a smile began to form on his lips.

Lorcan leaned forward on the table and her eyes snapped to his arms. Fingers flexing, interlocking, caught her attention completely. She returned her gaze to his, feeling her body heat up as he resumed speaking. "If I'm going to be completely honest... If you want the details, Elide," the way he said her name made her most intimate part clench around nothing, "I've never seen such nice, small nipples and that pink?" he shut his eyes, moaning as he brought one of the tomatoes to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the fork.

Elide swallowed the mouthful that had been in her mouth for over a minute and nearly choked when he opened his eyes again and they were darker than normal if that was possible.

She looked away, too many feelings building up inside her, but crossed her legs, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

"Wasn't that enough, Ellie?" he asked in a rough voice, biting into an olive, making sure she saw the way his lips closed around it.

She swallowed again, "No, it was fine..." she cleared her throat when it came out too weak, "Thanks for the feedback."

Lorcan let go a throaty chuckle, "The pleasure is all mine."

***

Like every Sunday evening, the whole group had gathered at the twins' house. And that night everyone was there, although Vaughan and Vesta, along with Aedion and Sorrel, had gone out into the back yard a few hours ago and had not yet returned. Elide suspected they'd taken to smoking.

Those left in the house were playing one of the most popular games, "I feel like."

The game had no real objective, other than to embarrass people or get them to confess to extreme or obscene sexual acts. It was simply a matter of drawing a card, reading what it said and giving it to the person you thought had done the closest thing to what was described on the card. The only real rule was that you had to tell the whole story of what happened if the card you were handed told the truth.

Quite often the game would be interrupted because one of the two sides of the various couples would cheat, change the rules and instead of passing it on to the appropriate person, they would pass it on to their partner as an invitation to lock themselves in the first spare room they could find to experiment with what was asked by the game.

The cards could range from as basic things as "I feel like your first time was in a public restroom." to as a bit more hardcore as "I feel like you got fisted in the woods."

And in that moment, Elide had a strong feeling that Rowan and Aelin would soon be going home.

"Oh my fucking god," Rowan muttered as he read the words on the card, turning red from head to toe. He looked up at Aelin, swallowing and making his adam's apple bob, "Where do you even find these games?"

Elide giggled beside him, "There's a girl on the internet who updates the cards every month and puts them up for sale, we take turns to see who has to buy them each time."

"Oh god," he said shaking his head. When he slid the card in Aelin's direction, the girl leaned towards him to leave a soft kiss on his lips and when they broke away they were both smiling. Aelin read what was written on the card and for a second it seemed like the colour drained from her face, but then she blinked and cleared her throat, looking at Rowan with wide eyes.

"Maybe we should go away. To try it out." she murmured, so quietly that only those on the couch with them heard her.

Elide looked up at the boy next to her, or rather, behind her, to see if he was listening, but he seemed lost in thought. He had been absentmindedly stroking her arm since they had settled there, and Elide didn't think she had ever been so relaxed in her life.

She and Lorcan were sitting at one end of the sofa, opposite to Rowan and Aelin, her between his legs and with her back against his chest. Every time one of them laughed, their bodies moved closer together and now she had her head resting on the part of his chest between his neck and shoulder.

She was home.

Fenrys and Connall, across the living room, sitting on the floor, booed.

"You can't pass them all on to her!" complained Lysandra.

Aelin didn't even look at her as she spoke, her eyes always fixed on Rowan's, as if they were having a telepathic conversation, "Lys, shut up."

Her friend gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"I say we vote to kick them out of the room," Asterin said, in exactly the same position she was in, but between her boyfriend's legs. Half the people in the room raised their hands to the sky, making Aelin roll her eyes.

Fenrys nodded, always ready to back Asterin up in whatever situation they were in, "It's starting to smell like Rowaelin in here."

Lorcan chuckled behind her, knocking her forward. And as the others lost themselves in the chatter, Elide shifted her gaze to Manon, who sat in the armchair next to the couch, one hand in Dorian's hair, who sat with his head resting on the armrest.

Her friend's bright eyes sparkled with malice as she arched an eyebrow and gestured to the boy she was practically sitting on. Elide felt her cheeks blush, but smiled naively at her, pretending not to know what she was alluding to. Manon smiled back.

Elide had never spoken openly to her about Lorcan, not in that way at least, but she knew Manon knew - in fact, now that she thought about it, she had never had to do that with anyone. Everyone had been rather quick to catch on that. Everyone except Lorcan.

The hand on her arm stopped, clinging completely against her skin and Elide had to force herself not to look at him, but then he lowered himself onto her and whispered in her ear, "Ellie."

She turned her head just enough to look at him and his lips brushed her cheek, so briefly that she thought she had imagined it. Lorcan had pulled back and was now looking into her eyes, "Your turn."

She blinked and turned towards the others, only realising at that moment that all eyes were on them. She felt her face burn, but she nodded, putting a hand on Lorcan's knee and pushing herself forward, rubbing her ass on the crotch of his trousers. She'd been doing this all night, all night teasing him, just as he was teasing her, brushing the side of the breasts from time to time.

And each time, Lorcan would burst into a coughing fit and move further back, which only gave Elide a chance to grind even harder against him in an attempt to regain the comfortable position they were in before.

As she settled back into her seat, she met Fenrys' gaze, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. She lowered her eyes to the maroon card in her hands quickly, shimming her hips between his legs. Lorcan's hands ended on her shoulders and she looked up at him, batting her eyelids like a fawn.

"Stop moving around so much," he grumbled.

She smiled gently and then took up reading. She hadn't touched alcohol that night, for obvious reasons, but she still found it hard to understand what was written there when Lorcan's fingers began to draw imaginary lines across her bare skin.

"I feel like..." she whispered, her eyes going wide. She looked across the sofa at Rowan.

The friend gave her a chuckle, "I told you they seemed a bit extreme."

I feel like you performed a titjob on someone while being eaten out.

Before she could realise what she was doing, she said, "Can I give myself the card or...?"

Dorian turned a quizzical look on her, "You know you have to-"

Fenrys shrieked something unintelligible, but that stopped Dorian. Manon above them clenched her hands into fists, her eyes half-closed at the sudden commotion, "I haven't killed you yet just because-"

"Yeah yeah, just because of Asterin, I get it," Fenrys replied moving a hand midair, his gaze never leaving Elide's, who in a moment of clarity realised what Dorian was about to say. What the blond said only served to confirm her fear, "But Elide just confessed to doing whatever is written on it and I want to know every detail."

She felt Lorcan stiffen behind her and then Elide realised something else entirely. He must have read what was written on the card.

"So?" pressed Aelin, leaning over Rowan and snatching the card from Elide's hands. She opened her mouth wide with an amused expression, then put on a pout, looking at her boyfriend, "These are the things I sometimes wish you'd be a little more open about."

Rowan arched an eyebrow, reading the card in turn, "We can do those two things at the same time and without anyone else having to see you naked."

Lysandra, next to them, picked up the card, "Oh, Aedion and I did that too. Although it was a normal blowjob, no titty job." she exclaimed happily.

One thing that pleased Elide greatly was the fact that no one in that room would judge her for what she did in the bedroom and who she did it with. Also because there was a high probability that they had done it too.

And slowly the card was passed among all the members of their group and when it reached Fenrys and Asterin, the girl winked at Elide, murmuring a sensual, "I've never done it, but I'm sure it wouldn't hurt." Fenrys winked behind her, intertwining their hands. Asterin's smile only grew wider, before she added, "You have our numbers."

Elide blushed, but smiled anyway, nodding.

Everyone began to talk about the various possibilities, as they did during every turn, and the card finally passed from Dorian and Manon and the two exchanged only a glance before giving the card to Lorcan.

Lorcan who was taking deep breaths one after the other and had his eyes closed. Elide had never seen him so focused in her life. She noticed the way he contracted and relaxed his jaw repeatedly and frowned.

Was he alright?

She ran a finger over his thigh to get his attention, tracing a line from his knee to where his leg touched her hip and Lorcan let go a shuddering breath, opening his eyes slightly and tightening his grip on her shoulders, "I don't think you should do that." his voice so hoarse and deep that Elide felt her stomach knot. She didn't understand what he was referring to.

And then she felt it.

Hard and... thick against her ass.

She opened her eyes wide, pointing them at him, and held her breath. She had to stop herself from opening her mouth in surprise, but she couldn't stop herself when her hips pushed against Lorcan's now obvious erection.

Elide had never been so happy to hear Fenrys' laughter as she was at that moment, because if it hadn't been for the sudden noise, the moans that escaped them both would have been heard all too well and neither of them would have been able to look at anyone else in the room for the rest of their lives.

Lorcan swallowed, breathing through his nostrils, and his gaze fell to her lips. Her eyes did the same and she didn't care that they were among everyone and would have everyone's eyes on them if they did exactly what Elide was thinking, because his lips parted slightly and he whispered her name and she was lost.

Without thinking about it for another second, Elide turned just enough to have her face directly in front of his and closed her eyes, feeling his lips brush hers. She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Lorcan,"

And then she kissed him, and it was exactly as she had always dreamed it would be, as his lips moved with hers and they tasted and breathed from each other. A sound that Elide had never made in her life rose up her throat as Lorcan shifted and with a sharp movement of his hips turned her fully towards him and now she was on her knees in front of him, both of them breathing heavily as they looked into each other's eyes.

Someone coughed in the room and she heard Aelin whisper a weak "fucking finally", but Elide didn't give a shit.

She placed her hands on Lorcan's face, tilting his head back so she could reach him better. The second his hands landed on her hips, their lips collided again in a fierce kiss and his tongue found its way into her mouth.

The first touch of their tongues was like having a thousand fireworks explode in her mouth.

"Okay, it's time to join the others," Manon murmured.

Elide heard Fenrys mutter, "Please not on the couch, there are guest rooms upstairs."

Lorcan pulled away from her just enough to see what was going on around them and her hands slid around his neck, ending in his hair as she admired the line of his cheekbones and the way his lashes caressed his skin every time he closed his eyes.

God, he was beautiful.

"Which one can we use?" asked Lorcan as he looked at Fenrys.

Elide's eyes went wide, causing him to turn towards her. She ran a thumb over his lower lip, smirking, "So sure of yourself."

Without missing a beat, Lorcan mimicked her grin and squeezed her hips, "You don't want to?"

Elide smiled, turning towards her friends, stopping to look at Fenrys, "The second on the left right?"

When the owner of the house winked at her, nodding, she stood up, pulling Lorcan with her, who had a confused look on his face, "Why do you know that?"

She had the decency to blush, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs, "You don't want to know."

Lysandra burst out laughing as everyone resumed their seats on the floor or the couch, "You really don't."

Elide tugged at him more insistently, not looking at Lorcan's reaction to those words. She just wanted to get to the room and lock herself in with him.

When she felt his hand settle on her hip and slide down to her ass cheek, where he paused to give it a squeeze, she almost turned and slammed him against the wall just so she could continue kissing him how she needed to.

They arrived in front of the door and she stopped with her fingers on the handle, once inside there would be no stopping. There would be no point of return.

His fingers brushed her cheek and she turned to face him, who now wore a ravenous, excited look, but Elide could see the concern and hesitation in taking the next step, "We don't have to do anything, Ellie."

She nodded, because she knew that was the case, but squeezed his hand to emphasize what he said, "But I want to."

"Good thing, cause the thought of you fucking those two gave me some ideas."

She grinned, placing a hand on his chest, "I wasn't the one doing the titty work, but we can always try."

Lorcan groaned softly at the knowledge of Elide licking another girl and then pushed the door open, backing in and taking his-

Whatever Elide was at that moment to him, it wasn't important.

The only thing that was important was his lips on hers.

The difference in height wasn't making it easy for him, and when he leaned down even further, never breaking the kiss, to run his hands under her knees and pull her up, Elide seemed to understand that right away and, pulling away just enough to jump into his arms, they found themselves on each other in seconds.

Lorcan bit her lower lip, making her moan, and when he moved to her jaw, nipping lightly at her skin, Elide threw her head back, pushing her hips against his and drawing a groan from both of them.

He immediately took the opportunity to latch his lips onto the smooth, quivering skin of her neck, feeling the bed behind his knees and sitting up, letting her straddle him. His hands moved up her legs, caressing her inner thighs, but never really getting close to where she needed him most.

Elide began to grope his chest, grazing the skin of his arms, but never staying in one spot, until Lorcan began to suck at the bare skin between her neck and shoulder and she nudged him slightly.

He quickly pulled away, panting, "What?"

There were too many layers. Keeping her eyes fixed on his, Elide lowered her hands to the hem of her shirt and slipped it off in one swift movement. She smiled smugly when she could finally see Lorcan's reaction to her bare tits.

His eyes were slightly wider than usual and his pupils so dilated that Elide realised that she had never noticed that Lorcan's eye colour was not black, but just a very dark brown. When he looked at her, the words died in her throat.

"I love it when you don't wear a bra," he murmured, reaching up to her and brushing her lips with his, "But I love even more the way you shiver every time I do this."

Elide didn't have a chance to dwell on the way he'd said love, because without her noticing, his hands had found their place on her waist and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure when he brushed the sides of her breasts with his thumbs.

He pushed himself further against her, brushing his lips over her ear, "When we're alone and you don't have to hold back, I want you to scream my name." and then he moved quickly, leaving only a light kiss on her shoulder before his lips closed around a sensitive nipple.

With the first sweep of his tongue around the hard bead, Elide whimpered, pushing her hips down against his and making him moan into her chest. She brought her hands into his hair, clenching and pulling each time his teeth bit or scraped the sensitive skin around the nipple.

When he seemed to want to move on to the other breast, Elide shook her head, pulling his hair back to its roots and forcing her mouth against his, making him grunt. She had to feel him.

"Lorcan," she breathed, between kisses, "I need to touch you."

One of her hands slipped between the two of them, palming him through the sweatpants that did little to hide Lorcan's huge boner. He moaned against her chin, "Fuck."

They pulled apart again and when he had stripped off his shirt, Elide didn't waste a moment and pressed her bare chest against his, causing him to fall back onto the mattress.

Lorcan had other ideas though, because in one smooth motion she found herself lying on her back, his gentle weight pressing her against the covers and his bright smile lighting up his face. He left a kiss on her nose, on her lips and then down to the split in the middle of her breasts and her eyes rolled back in her head as a flashback from two nights before appeared in her head, of Lorcan doing the same thing with his eyes as they danced.

"Can I take these off?" he asked her, once he reached her hips where he was leaving kisses light as feathers.

Elide was breathing raggedly, but nodded when she understood he was talking about her leggings. Still keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her hips off the mattress, closing her fists around the covers as her bottoms disappeared along with her socks and the cold air hit her bare skin.

Now only the thin fabric of her black panties separated her from achieving what she wanted.

That and Lorcan's slacks.

"Ellie." she heard him as he came back on top of her, one knee between her legs to keep his balance. She licked her lip, opening her eyes and keeping her gaze fixed on him, on that perfect face.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked in a whisper, as if afraid the answer would be no. She had them, but they were downstairs, in her purse, and she had no desire to leave the room right then.

Lorcan arched an eyebrow, "I'm not having sex with you tonight, Elide."

She frowned, folding her arms under her and propping herself up on her elbows, "What does that mean?"

"That I'm not completely sober," he said, leaning his head towards her chest, keeping his eyes fixed in hers, "And the first time it'll be inside you," he murmured in a rougher voice, placing a light kiss on the nipple he hadn't licked before, "I want it to be at a time when I'm lucid and can remember all the noises and moans you make." and then he gave the same attention to her other breast, pushing her against the mattress one more time, until Elide was a squirming mess under him and deemed his treatment sufficient.

"Now I'm going to slip these off," Lorcan murmured, grazing a finger along the hem of her panties, and Elide shuddered, "and touch you. Here." the same finger slid across her covered folds, starting at her clit and following her slit to her entrance. "Already so wet for me."

Elide thrashed on the bed, moaning softly as he applied a little more pressure, "Stop teasing, we'll have time for that when we get home." she managed to toss out between shaky breaths.

"Understood ma'am." he taunted, grabbing the edges of the thing and pulling it down. The sound that burst from him was completely animalistic and threatened to make Elide come before he even really touched her. "So beautiful." he said, kneeling in front of her.

Lorcan's hands wrapped around her ankles and he pushed her legs up, placing her feet on the edge of the bed, until she was left with her knees bent and her pussy at his full disposal. Elide risked looking down between her legs and her eyes locked into his as he lowered himself onto her and smiled.

The way her chest rose and fell made her tits bounce and Lorcan seemed to appreciate it, but he didn't seem to be planning to do anything. Elide tipped her head back, whispering in a weak voice, "Do something, please."

He laughed and her muscles flexed, clenching around nothing. It was at that moment that she felt him, his breath on the most sensitive part of her body. "I'm going to make you cum so fast you won't have time to count to a hundred."

Lorcan's fingers came off her ankles and went to part her lips, making her feel the warm air of his breathe even more. He parted them until he was satisfied and Elide lowered her gaze just as his tongue made contact with her throbbing core. A rush of pleasure coursed through her body, making her legs tremble, "Lor," she moaned.

"Mh, El," he closed his lips around her clit, pressing his tongue against the pearl over and over, until Elide repeated his name like a prayer, "So good. You taste so good."

Her hands ended up in his hair again, pushing his face against her sex, seeking more. She began to move her hips, following the strokes of his mouth on her, but one of Lorcan's arms slithered around her pelvis and pinned her to the bed, lapping her juices as with his thumb he reached to massage her clit with such precision that Elide knew that whatever she would do on her own in the future, she would never be able to match how he was making her feel.

Elide cried out in pleasure, bringing a hand to her mouth as she felt his tongue thrust into her and an all too familiar warmth build up in the pit of her stomach.

She brought one hand up to massage the nipple he had only kissed and made a choked sound, her hips jerking upwards.

Lorcan moaned against her, a new sound, different from any he'd made so far, and Elide couldn't help herself. She pulled herself up onto her elbows, continuing to touch herself as he kept sending jolts of pleasure with every thrust of his tongue and every caress of his thumb, and the sight of him eating her out would have been enough to push her over the edge, but the hand wrapped around his thick, throbbing cock pumping relentlessly was the thing that made her eyes roll back and explode as the rope inside her snapped. Her legs gave out, falling over the edge of the bed and finding their place on Lorcan's shoulders.

Her mouth gaped open in a silent scream as her whole body trembled in pleasure as wave after wave surged through her and her back arched so wide she broke away from the bed.

Lorcan didn't stop touching her, but he pulled his mouth away from her, still massaging her clit until Elide was too sensitive and with a groan she tightened a hand around his wrist to push him away. She heard him grunt and then moan, but she didn't have the strength to lower her gaze to what she knew very well was a cumming Lorcan.

She was breathing hard, one hand on her stomach to rest and the other still clasped around his.

Every now and then her body was shaken by a spasm, but she managed to calm down after a few minutes and close her aching legs. She rolled onto her side, letting go of his wrist.

Lorcan was also breathless and kept his forehead pressed against the edge of the bed.

Elide felt a tinge of pain tingle through her heart. She pulled herself up just enough to look into his face, "Lor?"

She reached out a hand towards him, placing it on his shoulder, at which he raised his head and looked at her with bright eyes and an open mouth, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, smiling at him and falling back into the now unmade blankets, "Never been better."

He chuckled deeply, moving from his position on the floor and causing at least two joints in his legs to crack.

The moment Elide saw he'd managed to get at least halfway out of his trousers, her throat went dry. And her brain forgot how to talk when she noticed he wasn't wearing boxers. Elide knew Lorcan often went commando, but seeing it with her own eyes was a different story. Seeing him, was a completely different thing from feeling him against her.

She swallowed. She'd intended to scold him for taking all the fun out of both of them by touching himself, but maybe Elide had overestimated her abilities, because the idea of having to give Lorcan a blowjob when his dick was like this-

"If you keep looking at me like that I'm not sure I can keep the promise I made to myself," he murmured in a serious voice.

Elide looked up at his face and sighed as she saw his eyes as dark as before, just moments before he pulled off his clothes completely and lay down beside her on the other side of the bed.

It didn't take her even half a second to wrap herself around him and press her body against Lorcan's side as he draped an arm around her shoulders.

His fingertips began to trace idle lines on her shoulder as he had done only half an hour before on the couch in front of everyone.

A satisfied and surprised laugh came out of her. Lorcan put his hand under her chin and when she looked up at him he had an equally satisfied smile on his lips. He pushed her head towards his, causing their mouths to collide in a brief kiss that was chaste in comparison to what they had just done and when they broke away, Elide frowned, "I didn't like you touching yourself without giving me a chance to enjoy this in turn."

The corner of Lorcan's mouth turned up, "Sorry honey, but seeing you naked like that on the bed for me has been my dream for a little too long and I was sure I would have come in zero time if I had let you touch me. It would have been embarrassing." he whispered, caressing her cheek.

Elide tried to suppress a smile, failing miserably. She decided to tease him a little, "I thought I heard you say you lasted long in bed, didn't you?"

He chuckled, "You know it's hard to rely on stamina when the girl in question is you."

At those words she felt a particularly strong surge of affection for the boy who had given her one of the most intense orgasms she had ever received and she pushed herself closer against him, making her bare breasts feel against his skin.

Lorcan turned slightly towards her, looking into her face.

He looked so relaxed.

She knew he was.

But there was something that didn't allow her to be one hundred percent.

She fixed her eyes on his, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart. The hand Lorcan had held behind his head until now came to rest on hers, squeezing her fingers tight.

Elide took a shuddering breath, "Now what?"

Lorcan suppressed a yawn, "I guess it's not a problem if we stay here and sleep-"

"No, I'm saying," she interrupted him, looking away, "what do we do now? You and I." then, realizing that question couldn't have been more vague, she closed her eyes, mustering courage, "What are we now?"

"Whatever you want us to be, Ellie," he said softly, starting to stroke her hand, "But I want one thing to be clear. And I'd like you to look at me while I say it."

Elide opened her eyes, lifting her chin slightly so she could see him better, and gave him a small smile, which he immediately returned.

"What is it?"

Lorcan's gaze moved to her lips, before returning to her eyes, "I like you, Elide."

She stopped breathing.

"I really like you and whatever you decide to do with me, I'll respect that, but I also want to say that if you don't want anything exclusive, then this will have been a one night stand and won't happen again."

Although she also wanted exactly the same things, hearing him say them made her chest hurt, because the prospect of not being able to have him again so soon after just finally finding him hurt.

She cleared her throat, nodding, "I like you too." she whispered, noticing his eyes widen a little, "And I don't want you going with any other girls besides me if we decide to continue with this." Lorcan nodded, agreeing with her, then continued, "If you don't want a relationship right away, I can understand that, but know that I do." she felt herself blush as she finally admitted the truth out loud, looking away, "And I know our situation isn't the best with being roommates and all-"

"Our situation is perfect," Lorcan corrected her, moving a strand of hair out of her face.

She looked at him again, seeing him smile.

"Ellie, you're my best friend. The person who knows me the most out of all the people I consider important. We already live together, we won't have to fight over who to stay at every night. We won't have to go on any awkward first dates and the sex seems phenomenal to me," a lump formed in her throat as she tried to keep her breathing regular, but found it difficult when he smiled at her more broadly, "I waited months for you to see that the playlists were all declarations and hoped that after Friday night something would change. For once I won."

Elide figured he was talking about what had happened at the club, but if she was going to be completely honest... "I was the one who showed you my tits twice, letting you know I wanted something more. Don't take all the credit."

Lorcan burst out laughing and it sounded more scratchy than usual, "I'm sorry, you're right."

He kissed her again and again, and held her close as he ran his fingers through her hair and murmured the words to a love song, and before long she fell asleep in his arms, making Lorcan the happiest man in the world.

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