#i may start fucking around more this year

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part one)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, very indirect subtle mention of sexual activities (no actual scenes), mention of drug usage (no actual scene)

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him.

word count: 2144

a/n: i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt like it now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any smut in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. and kelce's last name is statter bc apparently it was never mentioned in the show. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be little freaks) <3

*****

Fuck my life.

That was the only thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week art project. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him. You didn’t even know why he'd chosen this class. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA. Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe Cameron made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/N, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice. You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Okay, then let’s meet after the fifth period." Before you could ask where you should meet him, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach.

You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant—he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statton was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that was what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to know why he was the way he was.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him. But he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems at right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

----

The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe Cameron? Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out—only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The cafeteria would've been the most obvious meeting place, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong, freshly showered—boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining why you were standing there if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t. Great.

When Rafe saw you, something flickered in his gaze that you didn’t want to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you—with Kelce and Topper right behind him.

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Hey," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "I didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

Blushing, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Right," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the cafeteria."

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment. G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though. The faster we get this project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, right? Your mom owns Y/L/N Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just laughed.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t blush. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a pretty model."

Your cheeks warmed, and either he didn’t notice, or he chose not to comment on it.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You allowed yourself a small smirk.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a tired smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate? It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The cafeteria has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny? Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who… uh…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„No, no, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave. You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, warm, which somehow made it worse because it only made you more nervous.

„No, no, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „I guess I need to work out more if I’m giving off ‘fries guy’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the cafeteria. „Come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming—in the best way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

[deansbeer]

♡ a hunter's journey to fatherhood ⎯⎯ dean winchester.

📖 LIBRARY !

SYNOPSIS. dean struggles with anxiety about fatherhood, avoiding you until guidance from mildred helps him embrace love, vulnerability, and hope.

WARNING(S). slight angst | hurt comfort | f!reader | anxiety | self-doubt | dean's fear of failure as a new father | emotional vulnerability | moments of crying | mentions of childhood trauma (a big FUCK U 2 john winchester) | alcohol use (though not excessively) | avoidance | isolation | pregnancy.

kari talks ◞ i saw these gifs of dean n mildred pop up on my feed this morning so i had to write something w a lil fluffy angst <3 don't hate me bc it does have a happy ending !!! + this may sound rushed, has not much dialogue at the end, n repetitive :) my apologies !

dean winchester is an anxiety-riddled mess.

you’ve always known he’s carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but ever since you told him you were pregnant, he’s been distant. not outright cold, but the kind of distant that eats at you—quiet moments stretched too long, averted gazes, and excuses to leave the room.

it hurts.

you knew dean had his doubts about himself; he’s never been shy about the scars his childhood left behind. but you didn’t expect him to pull away like this.

every time you thought about asking him where he stood—whether he was happy, scared, or maybe regretting it altogether—you stopped yourself. you didn’t want to burden him more than he already seemed to be.

so you busied yourself with little things, distracting yourself by cleaning the house, organizing your shared bedroom, or just sitting on the couch with a book, hoping he’d come around.

but tonight, dean isn’t home.

he’d slipped out a few hours ago, mumbling something about needing air. you didn’t push. you’d seen the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed and tightened at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

what you didn’t know was that dean had driven into town, parked the impala outside the local dive bar, and gone inside to drown his thoughts in whiskey.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the bar was dimly lit and half-empty, perfect for someone who didn’t want to be noticed.

dean sat at the counter, nursing his third drink, his mind spinning.

he couldn’t stop thinking about it. about you. about the baby.

him, a dad.

he snorted bitterly into his glass. what the hell did he know about being a father? he’d barely survived his own childhood. john winchester had been a lot of things—strong, determined, relentless—but a good dad? not even close.

and what if dean turned out just like him?

the thought made his chest tighten, panic clawing at his throat.

he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. the whiskey wasn’t helping; it was only making his emotions come faster, harder.

he slammed a couple of bills on the bar top and left, walking out into the cool night air.

he sat in the impala, gripping the steering wheel as his breath hitched.

and then it hit him—hot tears stinging his eyes, rolling down his cheeks before he could stop them.

he wiped at his face angrily, cursing under his breath.

what the hell is wrong with me?

but then, through the fog of his thoughts, he remembered mildred baker.

she’d helped him and sam on a hunt years ago, and she’d been one of the few people who’d ever managed to get through to him. she was kind, wise, and had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it felt like the world was falling apart.

before he could second-guess himself, he started the car and drove to her place.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

mildred greeted him with the warmth he hadn’t realized he needed.

“dean winchester,” she said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

he hesitated for a moment, standing in her doorway like a lost kid.

“uh... sorry for showing up so late,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “i just... i didn’t know where else to go.”

she frowned slightly, concern flickering across her face, but she didn’t ask questions.

“come on in,” she said gently, motioning for him to sit on the couch.

once they were seated, mildred folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently.

“so,” she said after a beat, her voice soft. “what’s got you all tied up in knots?”

and that’s when it all came tumbling out.

words spilled from dean’s mouth faster than he could stop them—about you, about the baby, about how terrified he was of screwing everything up.

“i just... i don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “hell, i don’t even know if i can do this. what if i screw the kid up? what if i screw her up? she deserves better than me. they both do.”

mildred listened quietly, her expression soft but unreadable.

when he finally stopped, his chest heaving slightly from the emotional release, she reached over and placed a hand on his arm.

“dean,” she said gently, her voice steady. “you’re not your father.”

his head snapped up at that, his green eyes wide and vulnerable.

“but what if i am?” he whispered.

she smiled softly, shaking her head.

“you’re not,” she said firmly. “you’ve already proven that by coming here tonight. you care, dean. you care so much it’s eating you alive. and that’s what makes you different. john winchester loved you boys, but he didn’t know how to show it. you do. and that’s all that matters.”

dean swallowed hard, his throat tight.

“but what if i mess up?” he asked, his voice small.

“you will,” she said with a chuckle. “because that’s what parents do. we mess up. we’re human. but as long as you love that baby and love itd mama, you’ll figure it out.”

her words settled over him like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in his chest.

“you’re gonna be a great dad, dean,” she said, her voice soft. “just follow your heart.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

later that night, after mildred helped him sober up, dean drove back home.

the house was quiet when he walked in, the only sound coming from the soft clinking of dishes in the kitchen.

he followed the sound, stopping in the doorway when he saw you standing at the sink.

you were wearing one of his old flannels, the sleeves rolled up as you washed the few remaining dishes from dinner.

he leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment.

god, you were beautiful.

even now, with your hair slightly messy and your focus on the task in front of you, you took his breath away.

he took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and stepped toward you.

you didn’t notice him at first, too lost in your own thoughts.

it wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around you from behind that you startled slightly, your body tensing before relaxing into his embrace.

“baby,” you said softly, your hands stilling in the soapy water.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

“where’ve you been?” you asked, your voice gentle but cautious. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin. “i’m okay.”

you didn’t push for more, not when he mentioned he’d gone to see mildred.

instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth settle around you like a shield.

he rubbed small circles on your stomach, his lips brushing against your neck.

and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope.

but when you opened your mouth to ask him where he stood on the baby, he didn’t let you speak.

instead, he started rambling, the words tumbling out in a rush.

he told you how scared he was, how he’d been afraid he’d ruin everything, that he’d turn out like his dad or disappoint you.

“but i want this, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice breaking slightly. “i want you. and i want this baby. i just... i needed to figure out how to not screw it up.”

tears stung your eyes as you turned to face him, cupping his face in your hands.

“dean,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “you could never be like him. you love so much, sometimes too much. you’re going to be an amazing dad. i know it.”

he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as a single tear slid down his cheek.

“thank you, baby,” he whispered.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

after you’d finished the dishes, you drew a bath for the both of you.

you knew he’d been sore and achy from a recent hunt, and you figured the warm water would help.

he sat behind you in the tub, his arms resting on either side of the rim as you leaned back against his chest.

you brought the soapy cloth to your chest, letting the warmth soothe you before handing it to him.

he took it, running it over his own chest before reaching down to gently rub your shoulders.

the quiet intimacy of the moment was enough to ease both your minds, the tension of the past few weeks melting away.

when the water started to cool, dean helped you out of the tub, wrapping a fluffy towel around you before leaning down to kiss your stomach.

you weren’t even showing yet, but the gesture made your heart swell.

he wrapped a towel around himself, and the two of you went through your nightly routines before climbing into bed.

dean was already lying down when you joined him, his hands behind his head as he waited for you.

you turned off the lights and crawled into bed, settling on top of him with your head on his chest.

his hand rested on your lower back, the other cradling the back of your head as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

the two of you talked quietly about what to expect, about names and nurseries and everything in between.

and when you finally drifted off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, you knew everything was going to be okay.

because dean winchester was going to be the best damn dad in the world.

[utilitycaster]

Finally seeing Bells Hells/c3 biggest fans and supporters after 3 years saying, "Some of you are so afraid to criticise CR that you end making other people feel like shit for voicing their valid criticism. We are allowed to complain about media that we’ve invested so much time on and paying for 😐". Its ironic because JUST last week everything was perfect. Or c3 is perfect but all the other parties, breaks etc. Im like that IS c3. The Villian is fr MN and the party is tied to VM. C3 is all party

going to give the mean and sarcastic answer (not to you, to the people you're talking about) and then the thoughtful one because I think both are important to voice here

mean sarcastic answer is "actually Matt was homeless once so I can't believe you're resorting to leftist infighting and criticizing him like that? You can't criticize anything involving Bells Hells because all of the characters are queer and also Beau is a brown lesbian so it's really racist of you to be upset that she showed up in the charity one-shot and most of the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina have trauma so it's actually really problematic of you to be mad that they're showing up in the wrap-up? smh C3 fans are just mad this isn't The Bells Hells Search For Their Neighbor's Missing Cat In The Alps show."

The serious answer really is that like, yeah, this campaign has been The Moon Plot And Past Parties campaign the entire time. I'm not going to link my entire blog here but my archive is extensive and if you were to cross-reference my opinions over the course of the campaign you could see that I (and my many other allegedly evil Campaign 2 stan pals with which this fandom is crawling, as if we are apparently the invasive species here and not the bears in whose neighborhoods you built a cul de sac and tried to shoo out) started out with high hopes for a third campaign on the heels of two excellent prior ones. Our disappointment is that at every turn we had to lower our bar; forgive me if, after a campaign in which every time anyone else said "wow, fucked up that they yanked away the football, that's disappointing" you harassed and mocked us, no one has any sympathy when the campaign ends at, frankly, a not unsurprising place for it to end. It's openly been called the Avengers Assemble campaign by the cast. Like, actually, almost everyone else had the opinion of "I wish this campaign focused primarily on Bells Hells"/"I wish this campaign were more rooted in Marquet" from, frankly, the second that Vox Machina appeared if not earlier, and that's when a lot of the people currently melting down started watching. I have been here so long that the people sending me anon hate have had full turnover. And yeah, just last week everything was all going to turn out okay, and it's like while it's fair to have had more hope for the campaign around episode 50, if you're in the endgame and nothing's clicking, I think it's okay to say "well, I'll see this through to the end but here are the many failures of this campaign over all".

I think it's extremely valid if, when the people lobbied every insult and accusation they could think of at you when you criticized the campaign or any of its characters before 9:00 AM Pacific Time on Thursday, January 30th, 2025, suddenly find themselves realizing that yeah, this campaign has a track record of jumping around to other parties when Bells Hells should probably have been in focus, and that the character arcs were mostly cut short in favor of the singular moon plot and it's virtually impossible to end in a way that is entirely satisfying, though the world state will probably be intriguing and the characters will probably get some blandly happy endings in between cuts to Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein; one's reaction isn't "oh, you poor thing" but rather "We told you so." The party may have fucked around and never really found out. I will have to take my satisfaction that (as multiple mutuals who have seen this all unfold pointed out) the people who have used their fandom of this campaign to throw rocks at anyone they didn't like and feel morally righteous in doing so are reaping what they sowed. I have no control over the outcome of the end of this campaign but I can certainly control whether I have any sympathy for those who are reeling from a revelation most of us figured out months ago, and they've been so consistently awful to everyone else at every turn that I cannot say I do.

I think it's valid to criticize Critical Role. I've been doing so all campaign. I was against toxic positivity in the fandom during Campaign 2, and while I'm not entirely proud of everything I've done and said this campaign, at least I feel secure in never demanding anything from others I did not practice myself. If the fandom is better during a hypothetical Campaign 4 I think it will be in part because hopefully a C4 party won't be as much of an attraction for that kind of dish-it-out-and-never-take-it loser Bells Hells appealed to; and because hopefully those same losers will have either left, or learned a bitter lesson for whom they have only themselves to blame.

[emcapi]

I know this absolutely doesn't solve the wider systemic issue, but I highly recommend learning to cut your own and your friends' hair. It's easier than you think!

All you really need to get started:

Shears (necessary even for very short/buzzcut hair, you may end up with a few straggler hairs especially around the ears or patches that need manual evening out)

Thinning shears (VERY important - these let you do layering and texture super easily, make cuts look professional by softening blunt/choppy edges, and they can also salvage a lot of mistakes by blending them into the rest of the hair)

Electric clippers if you're doing buzzcuts or undercuts (If you can afford it, get the ones a step up from the most basic model, because the cheap ones suck and you'll end up going over the same spot 5 million times trying to get it even; I have a Wahl Elite Pro which is about $70, includes a pair of shears, and has paid for itself many times over)

Fine-toothed comb

Spray bottle (keep hair damp while cutting to make it easier to manage)

Set of hair clips (critical for bangs, undercuts, or different length sections)

Large hand mirror (Use together with wall/bathroom mirror to see the back of your head. It works best to have your back to the big mirror, hold the hand mirror in front of you, and adjust to get the right angle.)

I've been exclusively cutting my own hair for 8 years now, almost entirely self-taught, with both long and short styles. I won't lie, it's kind of scary at first! But if you fuck up, you can fix it yourself, and it'll grow out again, or you always have a professional stylist as a last resort. Most people won't notice the difference between a passably well-done DIY cut and a professional one (and if you do somehow fuck up beyond repair, you can always lie and say you went to a place that botched it).

And once you have the hang of it, the advantages are huge. No more dealing with hairstylists misunderstanding (intentionally or otherwise) what you want. No more spending money on haircuts, or dealing with executive function barriers to making or keeping appointments. And once you've found a style that Works for you, you can get really good at recreating it!

Again, this is not the same thing as fixing the systemic issue. But I for one absolutely love having full autonomy over my hair, and I'm here to tell you that if you've ever considered cutting your own hair, give it a try. It's absolutely worth it.

the thing about having long hair especially if you are a girl/perceived as one is people act like they will be personally offended if you cut it. INCLUDING! hair stylists who you are paying to cut it. double it if you have blonde/red/ginger/curly/etc hair. like the lack of autonomy ive been allowed to feel about my hair, even when its subtle still has me afraid to go to the stylist and ask for the haircut im paying to get.

[kittyminion]

big-headed

counselor!sevika x fem!reader

-explicit 18+, smut, fluff, angst, very non-canon, sevika is in her 20s -you and sevika had a long and intense relationship, until she became a counselor, big-headed from the status of her position, so after a heated argument, the relationship ends, so how will sevika get you back? -word count: 5.5k

The last Drop reeked of alcohol, smoke, and the faint smell of piss, but you loved it wholeheartedly.

You especially loved the way the door would slam open, bringing in a cool breeze and the stuffy air of the Lanes, the hustle and bustle behind the counter as Violet slid behind you, grabbing a heavy bottle of alcohol and tipping it inside a glass cup.

Jinx lingered near the bar, hands battering at a new bomb, and every time it would sputter or pop, releasing heavy bouts of smoke, the patrons nearby glared at Jinx, but as soon as she connected her hazy-purple eyes with their own, they'd ignore her tinkering and continue with their gambling.

You'd grown up with Violet, Jinx, and the others during the war between Piltover and the Underground, you're parents being killed when you were a child. You were barely able to scrounge up enough money on your own, nor take care of yourself.

You liked to forget those times though and instead relish in the memory of Vander by spending most of your days in the Last Drop with Vi, wishing things were normal.

Just as you wiped your hands on a discarded rag, ready to end your shift for the day, the door to the tavern was shoved open and a group of men wafted in, taking heavy seats at empty booths and tables.

Vi gave you a pleading glance, "stay please?" You let out a sigh, but nodded nonetheless, grabbing a pitcher of beer and a handful of glasses to hand out.

"If you got off of your ass, Jinx, maybe we could get more done." You called gruffly, a teasing tone to your voice, but Jinx rolled her eyes, picking at her manicured nails with a scoff, "you're the one who wanted to take over the 'family' business," she said sarcastically.

Taking your rounds throughout the tables, you stopped at one in the far back, a bunch of men crowded around it, including her. She clutched cards in her grasp, a cigarette hanging loosely between her lips as she smirked.

When Sevika saw you approach, her smirk increased, into an almost sickly-sweet smile, but she didn't say a word as you refilled her glass, mumbling curses under your breath. "What is that, sweetheart?" Sevika teased, flicking ash from her cigarette and placing it in a nearby ashtray.

"I said: you've been here for hours, isn't there something you should be doing right now? You're a fucking counselor, for Gods sake." She rolled her pretty gray eyes and placed her cards down, cautious of anyone seeing. The men around her groaned, but she shut them up with a single look and stood, towering over you easily, your eyes connected with hers like beams of light.

She leaned closer, enough for you to smell the tobacco and mint of her breath, "miss me, sweetheart?" Her eyes flashed with excitement and you scoffed, angry.

Months ago, when Vander had died for a third time and Piltover was overrun with metal creatures, Sevika took up her counselor position as an advocate for Zaun. You'd had a pretty intense relationship with her over the years, consisting of kissing, fucking, and the occasional I love you's, but once she left, nothing went back to normal.

Every time you saw her in topside, she'd ignore your presence, and just recently when she continued her escapades in Zaun did she continue her daily games at the tavern, and therefore, continued talking to you.

She'd thrown you aside like trash, but still expected you to continue running back to her like a little puppy. But you didn't stand for it. You may have really cared for her at one point, but now she was just a forgotten lover.

Sevika followed you towards the bar, sliding onto a stool next to Jinx, who sparred her a sidelong glance before she started speaking to Vi.

"Why would I miss you, Sevika?" You questioned honestly, your eyes hard and unrevealing as you watched her, your hands working at cleaning and shining glasses.

"I missed you." Her voice was soft and low as she said it, her mechanical, freshly repaired arm (thanks to Jinx), leaning against the counter, still shining with neon crayons.

"Don't be a fucking dick, 'Vika. You left me, not the other way around. I visited you in Piltover, when you got your luxury apartment and new clothes, and shit, but you pushed me out. Fucked another woman all the while you told me you loved me."

You spoke in a hushed, but hasty tone, ready to end the conversation. You stepped away from where Sevika was sitting to serve another patron, and thankfully she didn't stop you, her bicep straining as she curled her hand into a tight fist.

You didn't care much for her show of anger though. She had nothing to be angry about. What you said was truthful, you went to her apartment, barring gifts and a cunning smile, ready to climb into her arms as you'd done weeks before, before everything went to shit.

But Sevika had another woman there, a pretty thing with colorful hair and a perfect body that had you tingling with insecurity. The girl smiled at you and hugged you, welcoming you into Sevika's apartment like she herself lived there.

But as soon as Sevika saw you standing there, discontent in your eyes, she shooed you away, yelling hurtful words to keep you gone.

And it worked.

You inhaled deeply, filling another cup of beer. A strong gaze was upon your body, and had been since you'd been pouring drinks. You glanced up, your breath hitching when you saw Sevika watching you intently.

Her eyebrows were quarked, eyes hard, but sparkling with emotion. Her neck was slender, the side of her face marked with the scar that streaked down into her collar. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, she looked calm, but you saw her for what she was; nervous and guilty.

"When will you too fuck it out?" Jinx shouted suddenly, standing up with a slam, staring between you and Sevika with a deep frown.

Vi was standing a little ways away, chuckling with Ekko, who had just arrived, his pale white-yellow hair pulled back with a hair tie. He sidled next to Jinx and smirked, "they'll only move at their own pace. Ready to go?" Jinx inhaled deeply, attempting to calm herself down, then she nodded, allowing Ekko to lead her out.

The Last Drop was beginning to close, patrons trickling out in groups and as time moved past, it was only Sevika, VIolet, and you.

Sevika was nodding stiffly to the low music echoing throughout the tavern, while Vi was wiping down tables and flipping off lights.

Sevika suddenly called your name. You had no means of ignoring her, because you weren't busy, just waiting for Vi to finish up so you both could travel to topside and meeting Caitlyn at her family estate, she gladly gave up a room for you eversince the topside war, and you were plenty grateful to escape the dusty air of Zaun, but you returned everyday nonetheless so it made no difference.

"Yes?" You mumbled, following Vi out of the tavern. She was ahead of the two of you, wanting to escape your conversation with Sevika, but also not wanting to leave you behind.

"You know I didn't sleep with her right?" She nudged you with her arm and you froze, turning to her with a sneer. Before she knew it, you had shoved her. Of course, she didn't move an inch, but you did it again and again until she took a meager step back and glared at you.

"You really think I give a fuck whether or not you slept with her, 'Vika? I care about what you said about me, in front of her! You barred a secret I'd told you in private and you embarrassed me! You threw me onto the streets when you finally got recognition from topside like I was just a whore for you to fuck when you pleased!"

Vi winced ahead of you and continued walking without turning back, but she slumped against a brick wall, waiting for you to join her.

"I was your girlfriend, Sevika!"

Sevika placed her hand against her chest as if she'd been wounded, "I let the power get to my head, sweetheart. I lost sight of what mattered, but I'm sorry, alright? It won't ever happen again."

You chuckled humorlessly, "I know it won't." You continued your way towards Vi, leaving Sevika behind, and she didn't bother to follow you.

𐙚

A week had went by since you'd seen Sevika.

Time seemed to move by slowly though, and you'd caught yourself replaying the fight over and over again in your head.

Vi volunteered to open the Last Drop for the week, so that saved you from waking up so early like you usually did. Now, you sat in the reading room inside Caitlyn's estate, browsing for a new apartment.

It had been long overdue for you to move solitarily and you wanted somewhere in between Piltover and Zaun. You'd already toured an apartment and its complex, and it was quite a luxurious building with modern appliances and services within the building.

Once you put in your offer, hopefully you'd receive the keys within the week and could move all your furniture from your old, destroyed place in Zaun.

Just as you left the estate, intent on grabbing breakfast at a diner down the street, you saw Sevika, leaning against the iron gates as if she owned the place.

She dropped her cigarette and stomped on it as you approached, her short-cut hair fluttering in the breeze. Sevika wore a simple outfit, a gray tank top that matched her eyes and a pair of leather pants that were a bit baggy, but enough to cover the tops of her boots.

"Morning, sweetheart." Her voice was lazy as she said it and you rolled your eyes, "how'd you know I was here?" She smirked at the question, threading her hand into her pocket while her mechanical one hung lazily beside her.

"Dumb luck. I wanted to take you out for breakfast, and apologize again."

"The other one was ass." She nodded in agreement, lip curling a bit before she inhaled deeply and turned her eyes towards you, looking you up and down.

Her eyes flashed at the sight of your cleavage and thighs and when you noticed, you delivered a sharp slap to her chest, to which she apologized, clutching one of her boobs.

She followed you to the diner and you both sat in a booth towards the back, scanning the menus in silence.

When Sevika decided what to order, she crossed her arms atop the table and watched you like she did a week ago in the tavern.

"What?" You muttered, folding your menu and placing it aside. You honestly didn't know why you wanted to give her the time of day, maybe it was the memories that filled your mind or the desire that pooled in your belly every time you saw her.

Either way, you said nothing as she attempted her apology again, this time sincere and serious.

"Like I said before, I was high off the praise. I'd moved up from a fucking babysitter for Silco to a counselor in Piltover. I'd never expected that, but it gave me more opportunity to fix Zaun. I liked sitting in the meetings, watching the other Pilties sneer at me. My head was big and my ego was bigger. You were busy with the bar, and I felt on top of the world, so I went to a nightclub, saw that girl and brought her home. I intended to fuck her," she said it with guilt, her eyes avoiding yours, "but, I couldn't. I kept thinking of you, seeing you. I heard your moans, felt your skin, saw your perfect imperfections. I was angry, upset and fucking horny, so when you showed up, I lashed out. I said hurtful things and I regretted it when you left. I'm sorry wholeheartedly and I wish I'd never done any of it."

You'd been picking at your nails throughout her confession, watching the pieces of keratine fall into your lap. Your eyes were wet and blurry, but you still felt the burn of anger and betrayal in your heart

Sevika reached across the table and grabbed your hands, covering them with her own. Her lip was between her teeth, gnawing on it anxiously.

You lifted your gaze, "you better fucking beg for my forgiveness."

𐙚

A few months later had passed. You hadn't seen Sevika since you'd stormed out of the diner, tears streaking down your face as your shoulders shook with sobs.

She tried to chase you down, pull you into her arms, but you likened her touch to a cage and forced her away saying you needed time to think, breath, anything that didn't include you + Sevika.

You'd moved into your new apartment, lessened your hours at The Last Drop and focused more on your personal life, which included partying, fucking, and drinking until you could barely stand up straight.

You watched Vi fight occasionally in the pits, helped Caitlyn continue to dismantle Hextech all the while searching for Viktor and Jayce. You visited Jinx and Ekko in Zaun just to catch up and mostly, you sat silently in your apartment, wondering what to do with your life next.

One evening, when you'd decided it was time to head to the Last Drop, you slinked through the alleys within the Lanes to arrive quicker.

It was considerably dark this time of day, the only light coming from candles and lightbulbs hung on buildings and houses.

Trash lined the alleys, dozens of people either laid out within or stuck to corners with flasks of alcohol, rummaging through trash cans for food.

You were familiar with this though, considering you grew up in this environment. Vander always made sure you'd never been the one starving though.

Just as you turned a corner, the Last Drop looming a dozen feet away, three men jumped out in front of you, sinful smiles upon their faces as they looked you up and down hungrily.

They were most likely looking for something valuable to pawn, but you had nothing of the sort, your bag filled with junk. Your heart pounded with adrenaline as you wrenched out a dagger, ready to defend yourself. "You strayed to far from topside, Piltie." One growled, moving closer, reaching into his pocket and drawing his own weapon.

You chuckled at his words, "little do you know." The three men crowded towards you, like wolves surrounding prey, and just as the first reached towards you, you slammed the hilt of your blade into his jaw, knocking him onto his ass.

Another men let out a gasp of surprise, throwing himself at you and successfully pinning you against the wall, but you barred your blade, swiping it in each and every direction until you finally hit flesh.

Blood hit the ground in a heep, and you wrenched your blade out of the mans abdomen.

The final thief was big and burly, a bear of man that scared you and froze the blood in your viens, but you held strong, avoiding a punch to your stomach.

He grasped onto your jacket and wrapped his hand around your throat, lifting you up and shoving you against the brick wall behind you, therefore cutting off your breathing.

"A little bitch you are." He spat, hot, rancid breath making your eyes water.

Just as he reached into your bag, he was pulled away from you, a metal shark covered in neon colors latching onto his arm and ripping it to shreds.

Sevika chuckled at his screams, delivering a harsh punch to his jaw, then kicking him again and again until he was passed out, mouth open and blood spilling from his body.

You were leaning against the wall, heaving, a violent bruise around your throat.

Sevika crouched next to you, pushing your hair away from your face, her freezing cold hand brushing against the bruises. Her face was screwed up angrily, her eyes soft and hurt, for you.

"I'll take you to my place." You didn't complain, allowing her to pull you onto your feet and steady you, sneering at the men laid out. You wrapped a hand around her waist, shivering and angry.

"You held your own out there." She said, glancing down at you. You shook your head with a sardonic smile, "shouldn't have had to though. I thought you were improving things." You said it to hurt her, but it didn't work and she rolled her eyes, "I can't force people to not commit crimes. Besides, you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

You agreed with her at the very least, not saying anything as she threw a hand over your shoulder and pulled you closer, into a sort of hug. But you needed it, so you kept quiet and returned it, pulling the two of you closer until it was a proper hug.

Your head was resting against her bosom as tears clouded your vision. She pressed her lips against your ear and whispered, "it'll be alright, sweetheart."

𐙚

Sevika's apartment was extremely cluttered, piles of clothes strewn around, dirty dishes piled up in the sink and an unmade bed that smelt like dust.

"Fuck, 'Vika." You said glancing around and she huffed out a sigh, pushing the front door shut and throwing her keys in a catch-all bowl nearby.

She reached under the sink in the kitchen and grabbed a first aid kit, then pulled out an icepack and stuck it in the freezer for you.

You sat down on the velvet-black couch in her living room and leaned your head back, your temples pounding with irritation and the starting bouts of a headache.

Sevika came behind you, her fingers grasping onto the zipper of your jacket as she tugged it down. She pulled the sleeves down your arms and threw it over a chair then stared down at you, her figure upside down, making her frown look like a smile.

"Is the bruise bothering you?" She ran her cold fingers over it and you shivered, eyes falling shut as you exhaled, propping your feet onto the coffee table and nodding stiffly, "yes, my throat is a bit sore as well."

Sevika disappeared into the kitchen and returned ten minutes later with a fresh cup of tea and the ice pack from earlier.

This was your favorite side of Sevika, but it was rare and you never saw it when she was out in public. She loved to take care of you though, whether that was making meals, massaging your feet, starting your warm baths, or doing your laundry.

You hadn't seen this side of her in almost six months, but you were grateful for the familiarity. It made your heart fuzzy and warm and staved off your building headache.

Sevika pressed the ice pack to the base of your throat, then handed you the cup of tea and jumped over the couch to sit beside you. You hummed in approval as the tea touched your tongue and Sevika smiled, head tilting fondly as she grabbed the remote and flicked on a random channel on the television.

Before you realized it, you had pulled your legs over her lap, your hand gently unlatching Sevika's mechanical arm as you normally did after a long day.

She said nothing as you placed it against the coffee table then pushed yourself into her side, your head lolling on her shoulder lazily.

She wished she could pulled you against her tighter, but she didn't want to overstep so she allowed you to move at your own pace.

As the sun became lower and lower and the clock stuck nine p.m, Sevika had grabbed a cigarette from her pocket and lit it swiftly, sucking on it for a few seconds before she exhaled, the smoke wafting around the two of you in clouds.

"Will you stay tonight?" She whispered, afraid of the answer, but you nodded, surprising her. Sevika wanted to ask why you'd changed your mind on being around her, but she knew at any moment, while you were in your vulnerable state, that you could lash out and forever give up on her, so she kept quiet.

Soon after she had ushered you into the bathroom and started the shower. Sevika gave you a pair of her sweatpants and a large white t-shirt to wear, and she laughed when they hung off your hips loosely, revealing the soft skin there.

You climbed into her bed (after changing the sheets) and waited for her to finish her shower, and once she was done, you basically swooned at the sight of her.

Her skin was still damp, the golden tone of it more pronounced because of the warm lighting of her room. Her hair was damp and streaky across her face, her gray eyes tired and low. Sevika wore only a black sports bra, revealing her toned belly and that damn happy trail leading into a pair of sweatpants.

Your eyes were clinging to her like a leech sucked on skin, but she said nothing, throwing her dirty clothes aside, to which you scoffed, "if you and I were living together, it damn sure wouldn't look like this."

She laughed, climbing in next to you and nodding, "organization gets thrown out the window when you become a counselor."

You smiled a bit, "Counselor 'VIka?" She flushed, a purplish tone covering the apples of her cheeks. You seemed to be the lone person who could make her blush, but she covered it easily by chuckling and turning her head away.

"So... are we back?" It was a cautious question, but Sevika didn't want to upset you.

You scoffed, "no, Sevika. It takes more than you saving me from some criminals for us to fix our broken relationship."

"Then what will it take?" You heard the frustration in her voice, but you didn't care. "A date maybe?"

Her face flashed with surprise, but she smirked nonetheless, "fine, how about Saturday at seven. I'll come grab you from your apartment."

"And how do you know where my apartment is?" You quarked your eyebrow at her, your eyes shining with humor, but she just shrugged, "I have my ways."

That night you two curled in each others arms like nothing had ever changed and the next morning you brushed your teeth alongside each other and spoke about mundane things that had happened within the last few weeks.

You helped massage Sevika's injury sight at her shoulder, applying her usual cream to improve the mild pain she still had some days. Then you latched on her mechanical arm and greased the gears. You did it without complaint, because honestly, you enjoyed helping her.

She walked you to your apartment then left you with a single kiss to the corner of your mouth, all you allowed her, even though you desired more.

You just couldn't make all the hurt and anger from her past discretions disappear, so you'd make her work for your forgiveness.

It'd be like the two of you falling in love again, or at least that's what you wanted.

𐙚

Another week had past, full of you bartending at the Last Drop, looking for ways to pass time, and wishing Saturday would come quicker.

You were anticipating you and Sevika's date, mostly because the two of you had never really went out on dates, save for a few times in the beginning of your relationship.

But, the both of you were homebodies, preferring to spend intimate time at home rather than going out into the city. Besides, Sevika was often busy with Silco or Jinx, while you visited Vi in prison or maintained the Last Drop, despite you only being a teenager.

When Saturday finally rolled around you spent most of your time sitting around, deciding what to wear. Sevika would most likely take you somewhere private, instead of a public place like a restaurant, so you wore something casual, but sexy enough to show your skin; a simple blood red tank top with a v-neckline and a pair of simple leather short and sheer tights.

As seven p.m. slowly approached you sat around, waiting.

You were honestly excited, mostly to get back to normal with Sevika and sit under her like a puppy.

When she finally knocked on the door, you jumped up, grabbing your bag and jacket and opening the door.

She smiled when she saw you, her arm raised against the doorjamb as she looked up and down your figure, her eyes hungry and lustful. Sevika clamped a hand on your hip, "you look beautiful, sweetheart."

You blushed at her flirty words, pulling the door shut behind you and locking it swiftly.

Sevika threw her arms across your shoulder and started up conversation, "how has your day been?" You shrugged, "fine, but boring. I've just been sitting around all day."

"I bet you're wondering where we're going."

"Of course I am." She smirked at your answer, kicking a pebble.

Sevika guided you near the bridge between Zaun and Piltover, before you crossed, she took you down a sleep flight of stairs that led the the water bank.

There, under the bridge laid a plaid blanket with a woven picnic basket on top. "Is this..." you trailed off, heart jumping at the scene. You walked closer, your feet sinking in sand and dirt, then you turned to Sevika and she was watching your reaction tentatively, one side of her mouth quirked into a mischievous smile.

"Do you like it?" You nodded your head, watching her sit beside you and lift the top of the picnic basket, retrieving sandwiches wrapped in plastic. She handed you a plate and served you the sandwiches, fresh fruit and crackers, then she set aside a small portion of your favorite cake.

You cooed at the display, pinching her cheeks with a teasing smile. Sevika slapped your hands away a playful sneer upon her face, but she blushed nonetheless, moving closer to you, her leg propped up to support her elbow.

"This is sweet, 'Vika. You've never done something like this before." Her hand brushed your arm and goosebumps covered your body, making your hair stand on edge, but you ignored your body and took a bite from your sandwich, your mind calm from the heavy thunder of incoming waves nearby.

"Will you work in the Last Drop forever?" Sevika questioned, cheeks full.

"I'm not sure. I don't want it to give it up, because it was Vander's you know, but it's not my passion. Half of the time I dread going there. If it wasn't for Vi, i'd be gone a while ago."

"Vander would've understood if you sold it." She muttered, eyes downturned.

You nudged her arm, "he would have forgiven you. You just wanted better for Zaun, and you thought Silco was the best person for that." Sevika nodded, inhaling deeply, "sometimes I wonder what would have happened if he were still alive."

"I honestly don't know. Maybe Jinx would still be Powder, or you wouldn't be a counselor." You picked at a loose thread on your shorts and Sevika grabbed your knee with her mechanical hand and you looked over at her.

"We won't dwell on it." You nodded.

A little later and all the food was gone. Sevika had served you a second slice of cake and down you were both lying on the bank, staring up at the silvery moon, your head resting against her chest as you listened to the steady beat of her heart.

She was playing with your hair, threading her fingers through it and tugging gently. It wasn't until you glanced up at her that she snapped out of whatever memory she was in and looked back at you, her gray eyes big and full of secrets.

They crinkled with a grin and you reached up, brushing a delicate finger over her cheek bones, your fingers falling lower until you touched her lips.

Sevika just watched you quietly, little shivers going up and down her body as you lifted yourself up and lowered your lips down against hers.

It was a slow and hesitant kiss, almost like the both of you couldn't fathom that you were here, doing this.

Sevika cupped your jaw, lifting up and taking her place above you, her fingers gentle upon her face as she clutched it, devouring you whole.

Her lips trailed down your neck and sucked hard and fast until a love bite was visible, then she moved to that divot right above your collarbone, and she kissed it fingers threading under your shirt as she clutched your boobs, twisting thew hard pebbles of your nipples until you moaned, head thrown back in the sand as you tugged at her short hair.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" She muttered, lips vibrating against your skin and you nodded, tugging your shirt above your head impatiently and she chuckled, amused, then latched her mouth around your boob, flicking your nipple with your tongue while her arm wrapped around your waist, mechanical hand wrapped around your throat to keep you from writhing.

"Fuck, Sevika!" You spat, inhaling deeply. She removed her lips from your breasts and groped them roughly, her other hand working at the confined of your pants.

"I've missed you, sweetheart. The way you taste, the way you look, how you sound when I fuck you." Sevika pulled your pants down and teased your clit through your panties, quieting your moans with a kiss.

She clutched your ass then slid the rest of the way down your body and inhaled the scent of your cunt, smiling in satisfaction. "So fucking beautiful, lovie."

Sevika pushed your panties aside and locked her mouth around your cunt, flicking your clit while she slurped up your wetness.

You could barely sit still, grabbing at the sand, fingers tangled in her hair while she ravaged at your cunt with a newfound hungriness. You could feel your belly becoming tight, your muscles locking up and your mouth falling up awaiting your orgasm, but before you could burst, Sevika pulled away.

You complained, eyes opening as you watched her grab her bag and rummage through it before she pulled out a strap, a medium-sized, but long thing she'd used on you plenty of times.

Sevika pulled her pants and underwear down, revealing your favorite crop of dark hair on her cunt. You smirked at the sight, watching her tightened the strap around herself then she grabbed the base of it and alined the tip with your cunt.

You spread your legs obediently, one knee hitched over her shoulder. She licked her lips and kissed you, drowning out your pained moans as she slowly slid her dick inside of you and thrust her hips ever so slightly until she saw your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Sevika couldn't keep her eyes away from your face as she fucked you, slowly, but deep enough for your body to spasm each time she reached deep inside you.

You groped at her boobs, twisting her nipples to give her at least a bit of pleasure, but you promised to make it up to her after you came. Sevika picked up the pace, her hips snapping into the soft flesh of your ass with soft splattered. She gripped onto the fat of your hips and groaned as you lifted her shirt and popped a nipple into your mouth.

"Sevika, I'm close." You announced, voice raising a pitch as your eyes fluttered closed and you collapsed back against the sand of the bank, touching any part of her you could.

"You're close, lovie, perfect." She grunted, snapping her hips into yours once before you let out a long and loud moan that picked at the perfect parts of her pain. She collapsed on top of you, still thrusting to chase your high.

The both of you were panting heavily, your hands running across Sevika's sweaty forehead, then you kissed her cheek and flipped the two of you over, leaning above her as you unlatched the strap and placed it aside.

Sevika watched as you brushed her clit, masked by the thick hair of her cunt, but you dug a finger inside her, smirking at the dripping wetness. Sevika moaned, letting out a vulgar curse before she closed her eyes and allowed you to fuck her.

You pressed your other palm against her abdomen, pressing down gently as you stuck another finger inside her, thrusting quicker and quicker until she was panting, moaning, skin on fire and dripping with sweat as sand stuck to her naked body.

Her telltale sign of orgasm was the bunching of her body then the quick release when she threw her head back, hand tightening around your wrist as she wrenched your fingers out of her, thick evidence of her orgasm glistening around her cunt.

You laid next to her and smiled, kissing her again, your legs tangling with hers.

"Do you forgive me now?" She brushed a hand over your jaw and you chuckled.

"Of course, big head."

[forgive00]

EMERGENCY: help two young disabled trans youth escape an actively dangerous and abusive home

(more under the cut about why this is an urgent matter, if you have any more questions send me an ask or dm me please)

we need 5,000 to put down a deposit on an apartment, pay first months rent, utilities and bills, and buy furniture, groceries, and any appliances or random household things we may need like silverware dishes medicine etc. any extra money will be put towards more household expenses and rent. any money beyond that will go towards getting us both into therapy and regular doctors appointments which we both very much need.

0/5,000 $ GOAL, ANYTHING AT ALL HELPS (EVEN IF YOU JUST SHARE!)

please read our story below and share this post to anyone you know who can support us or just reblog. i cannot stress enough this is extremely urgent, we are in a very hostile and unsafe environment and i am very afraid for our futures and safety if we are living here for any longer.

hi, this is embarrassing and humiliating, but i am in an emergency situation and desperately need to escape my abusers and to live somewhere that is safe for me. it has always been dangerous here but the situation has vastly escalated. my best friend and life partner, august, has been living with me and my biological parents since november after becoming homeless. i have lived with my parents my entire life not by choice, since i have turned 18 i have been trying constantly to escape and move out and they have deliberately sabotaged me every single time, even going so far as to say they would physically force me inside the house and barricade the door to stop me if they knew i was trying to leave them. my living situation is really, really fucking bad. my house is and has been incredibly dirty my entire life and i am expected to do every single chore in the house no matter what despite the fact i am very physically disabled and work a full time job, i am not allowed to eat or have access to food or water or the kitchen after around 10 pm, a lot of the time i have to eat in secret because i get mocked and made fun of for eating or "gaining weight" (i have had a lifelong eating disorder my family actively tries to trigger and encourage and they have made it very clear they do not like me recovering or seeking therapy for it). my father in particular is very aggressive and has physically abused me countless times and i live in terror every single day that it will happen again. every single day i am emotionally abused, manipulated, and gaslit by my parents. and this is just whats happening to me, august has had his access to a house and place to sleep threatened repeatedly, my parents have even gone so far as to try and gaslight us both into thinking he stole from them so they could have a reason to kick him out, even though they personally invited him to live with us and are aware he would be homeless if he wasnt here.

ontop of all of this, my family is aggressively and very openly transphobic and homophobic, and i genuinely fear for our lives staying in this house any longer as we are both on hrt and actively transitioning. i cut contact with my abusive grandmother two years ago, and my mother has recently started talking to her and telling her extremely personal information behind my back about my transition, my rape, my disability diagnosis, virtually anything they can both use against me they are using against me.

we cannot keep living here. i need to get away from them as fast as possible. we are moving to another town to cut contact with both my biological family and augusts.

[wynsummers]

felt like combining two of my biggest interests so this is my ranking of buffy characters by how much they would enjoy the rocky horror picture show

honorable mention - anya. i can't decide if anya would love or hate rocky. the more chaos-loving anyanka side of her would have a lot of fun with it, but i think she might also hate the idea of going to see a movie only to have it talked over by a bunch of hecklers. especially if she went to a theater where they throw/spray props. so i guess it would depend on whether she went to a showing for the experience or the film itself.

9. angel would walk in, sit in the back row, stare with an intense face at the screen for the entire hour and forty minutes of the film and then stand up and leave without saying a word. he would never come back.

8. xander - xander would enjoy rocky for all of the wrong reasons. he is the cishet man who only goes to see the lingerie-clad women. i've met so many xanders in my time. they always have that smug laugh when someone tries to interact with them, but they're too cool to do anything that they can't use to (attempt to) impress a woman

7. cordelia - i don't think rocky is really cordy's scene, no disrespect intended. i think she could have a good time but some of the more extreme traditions might put her off (especially if someone threw/sprayed something at her, i think she would hate that). she would look at it as that fun thing she did once, probably because someone invited her. that being said, though, if she ended up in a shadowcast, she would put her entire heart and soul into playing janet.

6. oz - i can't explain it but oz is both too cool not to be at rocky and too cool to be at rocky. like, oz has been going to rocky every week for two years but the scoobies only find out when they go as a group and everyone in the theater knows him already. i don't think he's ever said a callback in his life but he definitely has a bunch of them memorized

5. buffy - ok now hear me out. buffy needs something like rocky in her life. she needs a place where she can unwind, yell loudly, dance around, and just have fun. i don't think she'd be super into it right away, but i don't think it would take long for her to get into the rhythm of it. i can't see her going so far as to be in a shadowcast, but i can totally see her being a frequent audience member who tells all of her friends about this awesome thing she found

4. tara - listen, tara is a lesbian witch in college. rocky was made for her. season 4 tara is too shy to participate, but i can see it being a place she returns to a lot, and season 6 tara is definitely in the front row of the theater every friday gleefully yelling at the screen. she might even dress up as janet or magenta (shoutout amber benson for performing toucha touch me)

3. willow - this may be controversial, since early seasons willow is kind of reserved and seems like she would be really overwhelmed by rocky. but often that's the exact kind of person who thrives in rocky the most because it gives them a chance to come out of their shell. at her first show, she probably wouldn't participate at all, but something would compel her to come back, and slowly but surely, she'd start doing more. cut to a few months later and she's going full vampire willow in a theater full of people. i think later seasons willow wouldn't have as difficult of a time at first but i still don't think she'd get into it right away. but once she got it, she'd be a regular for life

2. spike - i think spike has been going to the shows for a long time; it's definitely his scene. it wouldn't surprise me if he invented some of the callbacks. yelling stupid snarky shit at a movie screen is so him. i don't know if i can see him dressing up as a character though.

giles - obviously. fucking obviously. in his ripper days he was frank at his local theater and he still goes to the shows all the time. maybe on special occasions they bring him back as frank for a special show. it wouldn't surprise me if he saw the rocky horror show before it was a movie. if buffy and the scoobies found out about his double life they would faint. (if you haven't seen anthony head as frank, do yourself a favor and look it up)

[hibiscusseaart]

i have thoughts too First, once Konoha is made and there's more safety its actually possible that there could've been babyboom, since its more secure now to have kids (hospital, safe environment, education and ect). Then ofc the numbers would dwindle bc from what we can see irl more education = less kids. Plus i think more girls got opportunity to become a shinobi since there's an academy that teaches everyone. Plus Konoha really needed loyal shinobi, like those who never knew another life than to be loyal. Career striving could've also affect the demography.

Also lets not forget that clans could keep up child rearing, but civilians shinobi probably don't. "It takes a child to raise a kid" and in clans it's true, but civilians have less resources and free nannies. Like we don't see any kindergartens in Konoha huh?

I don't think that there's not that little spares in modern Naruto? Im gonna go with teams.

Team 7: Naruto has his own situation. Like Sasuke is the second child, a spare. Sakura is a civilian.

Team 8: Hinata has a sister and smth prob happened with her mom since only her father is around. Kiba is a second child. We don't really know what's up with Shino and Aburame's family structure ?? may be possible he's the only kid but we know so little about him

Team 10: yeah InoShikaCho all have 1 kids. that's on them.

So yeah most clan heirs have two kids (not a lot but its at least two), only inoshikacho clans have only children for some reason. maybe cultural thing in the trinity?

Two kids it not that many, but who knows, maybe if more kids had stable situation in their families they would've had more (Kushina and Kyuubi, Mikoto and Uchiha politics, Kiba's father absence, Hinata's mom absence). And tbf we don't know maybe Shino has like 10 siblings we just don't know about it.

Also I fucking don't believe the academy we saw is the only one in the whole village. Like Konoha is a big village, the most populated one of all. I don't believe that only 20 kids graduate every year. It's bullshit.

I believe that there HAS to be some other buildings of it. Like the one we saw is the main building, where most heirs and important kids/the one with higher marks study. Its just a pure security nightmare to get all shinobi kids in one building. Like what would happen if someone tried to get the academy hostage? like EVERY kid would be in danger. But if there's more buildings, at least some younger generation is safe.

Plus its just logical to spread it a bit so that teachers wont lose their minds with hundreds of hyperactive shinobi babies in one building.

Anyway I think that clans have less kids since there's better education for girls + contraceptives, but also since there's no point to make so much more shinobi, cuz there's also lots of non clan shinobi like Sakura who are filling up the place that used to be for 3rd or 4th clan child. Tho I have no doubt that Hiruzed could've start demography campaign after so many wars esp since there was so little adults he sent literal kids on battlefields in the 3rd war

naruto population worldbuilding is one of those things that i just. can't even think about without getting mad. why are your classes only like 20-30 kids??? a YEAR???? and you're failing half of them??????? and this is allegedly sustaining a military force with tens of thousands of people? No It Is Not. 20-30 people die EVERY FUCKING TIME you introduce a new bad guy for emphasis or whatever!!! replacement rate is NOT fucking working!!!!! chunin exams only letting like. jkgadfjlkj 1? 2 kids per village advance? it's literally sooooo bad kishimoto did NOT think it through. i simply have to tell myself that certain characters are lying <3 or wrong <3

[2neaky]

“𝑿𝒊𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒂’𝒔 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓”

— MDNI -> WARNING: s*xual content, cursing, cheating, physical violence (minor), original characters, not proof-read

Something quick to post while I’m finishing up my Ony fic.

The slither of his spine and hips is smooth, slow, controlled. Yet, it’s strong enough to dig a guttural sound out of her. Her body bares down on him, stunned by the power behind every stroke.

He takes a hot, sweaty thigh of hers tight, hoping his grip is tight enough that it stops his hand from trembling so noticeably. He hikes her leg up higher on his bare waist.

She tosses her head away, screaming out something as he continues to dig. Digging deeper and deeper, searching for something so close, yet so far.

He pushes his face deeper into her neck. Maybe he was hoping for a cover to stifle any sound that may fall out of his mouth.

But as his eyes squeeze shut and he holds his breath, he thinks that maybe he’s trying to forget who’s beneath him.

“Jai—” Xiomara groans out.

Her naturally sultry voice reminds him. Freshly done acrylics, that he paid for, ruin the already bruised skin on his back.

“Oh sh— … oh shit … shit…”

His breathless chants grow heavier. It takes everything in him to drag a hand up to the headboard for support.

Her other leg comes around his waist, anchoring him like a ball and chain. “Yes! Give it to me, baby! Fuuuck—”

Moans and yells only grew louder, nearly deafening him. He snaps his hips harder, losing the control and strength he had to go slow.

She peers up at him through teary eyes and fucked up lashes. His eyes are still closed.

A groan rumbles his chest, it’s the loudest he’s been since they’ve started. She squeezes around him tighter, just to hear it again.

His shoulders hunch—all the muscles in his body tense. The air in his throat caught. He released her leg to grip the headboard with both hands.

“Mmh—f-fuck Shey—”

He doesn’t hear the sound she makes when his orgasm hits him. But, she can feel him unravel, shooting off inside of her as his muscles go lax.

His head hangs between his shoulders, his arms shaking as he continues to hold himself up. Her dark brown eyes search his face for an answer of some kind.

And for a while, the only sounds in this room is the gentle huffs of their panting. She swallows thickly, almost too scared to move.

“What did you call me?”

He peels his eyes open, and his dark gaze immediately falls on her face. “What?”

The word comes out hushed and mumbles. He couldn’t even open his mouth to enunciate it.

“What … the fuck did you just call me?”

Confusion creases his brows. His mouth bends around the first letter of the word “what,” but before he gets to say it—

“The fuck did you just call me, Jai?” She shoots up in bed, shoving him in his chest.

He falls back on his knees, glaring at her with wide eyes. “Wha—I ain’t call you nothing—”

“Who the fuck is Shey?”

The change in his face is so tiny. A simple ease in his brows. But she sees it all the same.

“I didn’t …” His eyes dart all over her face, searching for a hint of a joke. “I … what?”

“Who the fuck is Shey?” she yells.

A new rush of adrenaline makes his heart race.

“I didn’t—I didn’t say Shey—”

“Yes, you did!”

Her pale brown skin flushes with anger.

“No, I—I said Xo—”

Before he could feel it, he hears the sharp crack of her hand against his cheek.

“Do I look fucking stupid? Do you take me for a—“she hits him again, he blocks it this time—“fucking joke?”

“Get off! Get the fuck off my bed!”

Stumbling out of the tangle of sheets, he gets on unsteady feet to throw his clothes on.

“You—you leave me for a fucking year, you don’t answer my fucking calls—my fucking texts—and then you come back to New York pretending like you wanna see me!”

Her mouth runs a mile a minute, speaking so fast that she stumbles and trips over words. Her accent is even more pronounced.

As she rambles, she shields her body with the Versace robe she’d answered the door for him in. The one he bought her.

All the while, he keeps quiet, trying to process the entire situation as it falls apart in front of him.

“—I told you I fucking loved you! I loved you, and you don’t even say shit back!”

Her voice scratches, and her body trembles.

“Xo—”

“Don’t—don’t fucking talk to me!”

Huffing, she turns away from him, but he already knows that she’s only wiping the tears from her eyes.

“So … stupid,” she whined, a short cry following suit.

“Xo, I didn’t—“

“Who is she?”

She whipped around to look at him. Her wide eyes were overflowing pools, boring into his own. But her brows are pulled together, and upper lip curls into a scowl.

He only stares, dumbfounded. He can’t even think of anything to say.

“Answer. Me.”

His heart hammers in his chest. Breathing so fast, he can’t help the dizzy feeling running through him.

“She….”

“She what?”

“She’s … a friend—“

“Get—“she snatched up a pillow—“get out!”

Repeatedly, she beats him with it. Shielding himself, he was only backed further and further out of her room. All the way to the front door.

“I—aye! Xo—“

“Get the fuck out!”

Pulling open the door, she shoves him out of her apartment and shuts the door in his face.

This was bad. Really fucking bad. Although, what might’ve been worse was the name he moaned out ... and that he left his gun on her coffee table.

“Shit.”

Taglist: @wintrrxxo @vibewshyla @icanmakethedickstandup @toji-dabi-wife @genea-myers @whoareyouuuo @The_goatedaries

[all-pacas]

I finished nobody’s fault & chase and I couldn’t understand why chase wouldn’t forgive house. Like obviously he’s traumatised and couldn’t walk but it feels like I’m just missing sth crucial. Chase did reason it with his doubts…but I don’t know if he honestly believed them. Any thoughts?

In a lot of very interesting ways, Nobody's Fault/Chase reads to me like a pretty direct continuation of Teamwork. Of S6. Cameron leaves the show talking about how House is poison, how he ruins people and ruined Chase specifically: House is reckless, House makes people act like him, House has ruined Chase's life. And… it's unfair, but it's not entirely wrong. Chase has become a worse person over the years. He has become a lonelier and more bitter person.

Nobody's Fault makes it fairly clear that legally, the stabbing was not House's fault. Chase fucked up, Adams fucked up, everyone made mistakes. House wasn't really even involved, but at the same time, none of it would have happened if not for House. This is Cameron's "poison" speech come back around: House spends years encouraging recklessness and results and defiance, and eventually it's going to backfire and hurt someone. House never told Chase to murder Dibala, but House taught Chase to act and not care about laws or consequences.

HOUSE: She blames me for Dibala's murder, not you. CHASE: You were barely involved in that case. She knows that. HOUSE: But I created the big, bad, evil climate that allowed it to happen. (teamwork)

CAMERON: You did kill Dibala. By playing God and teaching us to do the same. HOUSE: I taught you to think for yourselves. (teamwork)

COFIELD: You brazenly defied your boss. Now that happened either because Dr. House has established that that's okay in his world, or his prank war distracted you, or House makes medicine a game, and you just wanted to beat him. Whatever the reason, it boils down to the fact that you may never walk again because House created an atmosphere that promotes recklessness. (nobody's fault)

This is actually kind of a theme. We even see shades of it in The Mistake, in House Training, in Wilson urging 13 to work for House because she alone is immune to his influence, in Masters and Cameron leaving entirely: House changes people. Not for the better.

So, does Chase truly blame House for what happened? No. At the end of the day, Chase's loyalty to House did win out, and he defends him pretty strongly to Cofield; in fact, he's also able to point out that House was, despite his appearance, wildly concerned and worried and Chase knew it (let's not forget, Chase has always been very good at reading House). He seems to blame himself (using the same "I would do it again" language as he used in Teamwork). But that doesn't mean he isn't angry at House.

Chase is very similar to Forever, Foreman's reaction to his own near death experience. Foreman almost died, and is putting on an act of being a new person to try and give meaning to the event. Chase does sort of the same thing — except he comes to the opposite conclusion. He almost died, and it seems to have made him realize how completely miserable he is. House isn't to blame for the stabbing. He kind of is for that.

That's kind of a theme with Chase in S8 in particular. He takes a year off and is bored and waiting for House. In a later episode, he wonders why he's still working for House: he's in year seven of a three year fellowship. Foreman is the Dean of Medicine; Cameron is running an ER in Chicago. Chase is exactly where he started. His entire life is working for House. And he kind of hates it. Not House, but… his life, you know? He picked House over his marriage. He picked his fellowship over his very successful surgical career. What has he gotten for it? Divorced, lonely, bitter… stabbed. He's thrown his morals away. He killed a man in cold blood. Is he happy? Probably not.

Chase is unhappy, he feels (somewhat fairly) that his life is not what he wanted, and like Foreman years earlier, he's trying to make changes. He wants out of House's orbit. He's reflecting on what he wants, and his arguments against Moira joining her convent are… pretty telling: She's missing out on getting married. Having kids. Having a successful career. He tells her later he was married once, that he wants a relationship with her. We know these things are true; only two years ago Chase was absolutely convinced he had it with Cameron. But at the same time, he's grasping at straws. He wants to escape, to start over. He blames House for how his life turned out.

CHASE: I need to get away from House and everything that reminds me of him. ADAMS: By breaking the rules, not caring what anyone else thinks. You're gonna get away from him by turning into him? (chase)

CHASE: This has nothing to do with the truth. You don't like that I'm reassessing my life, that I want to change it, that I can. HOUSE: Anyone can screw up a life. I never said that wasn't possible. CHASE: You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you. (chase)

And the thing is, Cameron must be rolling in her grave right now, because. This is what she was saying. House ruins people, he poisons them: he has influenced Chase and not for the better. Chase now, finally, agrees. He isn't happy with his life, and he's blaming House the same way Cameron did. He's angry with House and can't forgive House, not because Chase really blames him for the stabbing, but because he's in his words reassessing, he wants to change, he sees House (correctly, mind you) as the symptom of all these changes: it's not fair to blame House — House wasn't sitting and doing this intentionally — but it's inarguable that a decade with House has done this. (And I love how Nobody's Fault underlines just that point. Chase has been here the longest. He has known House the longest.)

But House is right, too. Chase wanting to change is sincere, but it's also a reaction. He is unhappy, but jumping straight to I will live happily ever after with this random lady isn't a solution. And implicitly, Chase agrees: the fact that Chase has spent half the season with very short hair and stubble, then these episodes limping, is not an accident. Nor is the fact that at the end of Chase and going forward, Chase is clean shaven, back to his usual hairstyle, and no longer limping.

I also think their argument at the end of Chase was. Important. House telling him it's okay, even if not in those words. That he isn't an idiot, that he didn't make a mistake or do something wrong (when Chase from his language and unhappiness over the past few years doesn't seem to agree). They've long since left the days where Chase was slavishly seeking House's approval, but that doesn't mean it didn't mean something to finally get it. I think House telling him you didn't do anything wrong was what Chase really needed: not just the words, but hearing it from House, in a moment where Chase is feeling lost and wanting to change and wanting to blame House (for being miserable, for not connecting to others, for being lonely and alone like Chase fears himself)? That mattered.

And we see going forward that Chase actually does change. He becomes close to Park, he stops sleeping around, he leaves PPTH on his own terms, finally (even if it doesn't exactly stick for long). Cameron was right all along that House changed Chase for the worse… but House and Chase seem to realize that doesn't have to stay that way, and that Chase can still change and be happier going forward.

[corner-collects-rocks]

personally i have a head canon that neil josten writes memoir or autobiography that actually goes into detail about the abuse he suffered from riko or just how terrible riko moriyama was as a person thats set on like a “dead mans trigger” of sorts. meaning if he get executed by the mob, or if andrew did or kevin/jean or once all of them live long healthy lives and die from growing old he releases it. cuz whats the mob gonna do? kill him again?

its like his own petty insurance policy that no one knows about, other than maybe andrew. it starts out as a rant about riko because approaching the one year of his ‘suicide’ neil is sick of hearing people feel anything but hatred towards riko. he may have been a product of his environment but so were kevin and jean but riko chose to be a shitty stupid little man who wore his insecurities like a fucking rave outfit; surprisingly exposed and everywhere if you’re brave enough to look for more than a couple seconds.

anyways thats been rattling around in my brain for a little bit now so enjoy!

[ofstarsandvibranium]

To Have and To Hold: Part 13

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you’re always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don’t necessarily hate Marc, but you don’t get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

Series Masterlist

When Marc wakes up, your side of the bed is empty. He hears the shower on in the en suite bathroom, so he knows you're in there.

He stares up the ceiling and lets out a pained, deep breath. He really can't catch a break. Everything with you has been fucked from the start. He never wanted things to go this way. He knew it was going to be difficult, but he didn't think it'd be this difficult.

He thought he'd have more time. More time to get to know you more, more time to process everything. Just...more.

But Marc's life has never been an easy one. He's never gotten anything easy, never gotten any peace. So he just has to roll with the punches.

But fuck, is he tired of getting beat down.

You step into the bedroom, towel wrapped around your body, "Oh, morning," you say with a hint of surprise, but cover it with a nonchalant.

Marc sits up with a grunt, "Guess we should talk."

You nod, "Yup. Let me change first," you walk into the closet, closing the doors behind you. Marc takes the few minutes to gather his thoughts.

He needs to apologize. He might even beg on his knees for you to believe him. From now on, he has to be completely honest with you from now on.

You exit the closet wearing leggings and a loose fitted t-shirt. You stand there, hip jutted out, and arms crossed over your chest. You're guarding yourself. Marc understands, but hates it nonetheless.

"So?" you ask with a raise of your brow.

He clears his throat, "So, yes, I intentionally didn't tell you certain things. Not because I didn't want to tell you at all, but because I didn't want to worry you. You've already been under a lot of stress and I was just thinking about you." You open your mouth to retort, but he cuts you off with a raise of his hands, "I know. I know. I still should have told you about it all: the arrangement, your dad, my now ex-wife. I fucked up.

"I truly am sorry though. I never want to hurt you, Y/N. I care about you."

You had a feeling the conversation was going to go this way. You thought about various scenarios of it while you took your shower. Despite you wanting to paint Marc to be a villain, you know he truly isn't. Despite his rough exterior and "tough shit" you know he has a soft heart. You've seen it first hand the days following your arranged engagement.

You let your arms, and your internal walls, slowly fall.

"I get it...still fucking hurts that you kept all of it from me. And-And I don't know how I'm supposed to trust you-"

"I won't keep anything from you anymore. I promise. Anything that could put either of us or this arrangement at risk, I'll tell you."

"I'll do the same," you say in agreement.

He slowly nods, "Do you...have questions?"

"Who was she?" you ask as you sit at the corner of the bed.

"Layla El-Fouly. I met her back when I was a mercenary...I was ordered to kill her father. I was supposed to get close to her, kill her too but-"

"But you fell in love."

"Yeah. Then she found out that I was the one who killed her father and she left. Didn't see or hear from her in years."

"Did you try looking for her?"

He shrugs, "Not really. I understand why she left. I lied to her," he lowly chuckles to himself, "Guess I really don't have a good track record when it comes to marriages. Both of mine rooting from deceit." He looks down at his lap in shame.

"But you finally found her."

"When your father came to me about the arrangement, he already knew of my marriage to Layla. He gave me contacts to help me find her so I can serve her the papers. She finally reached out a few days ago. She wanted to talk before signing the papers."

You think about when you saw them at the cafe, how he was holding Layla's hand, looking at her. You felt that twinge of jealousy and insecurity crawling into your heart.

"Do you still love her?"

Marc gives a sigh, "I think a part of me will always have some care for her, but I don't love her. Not anymore."

You feel a weight lifting off your shoulders after that. Because, dammit, you know you've fallen for Marc. Despite everything, you really care for him and you know he'd treat you well in this marriage.

It was your turn to release a deep sigh, "Okay."

"Anymore questions?"

"I should have asked about this earlier on, but how long did you know about the arranged marriage before my dad told me."

"Two weeks."

"Did you help create my dad's plan to take Harrow out?"

He shook his head, "I didn't know a thing. I asked him to let me in, so I can help but he told me my strict orders were to get you out of there. All I knew was that he had a plan and it was probably going to end in his death."

"How has Steven and.."

"Jake."

"How has Steven and Jake taken to this life?"

He snorts, "Steven hates it. He's a pacifist, so he's not around often when I'm out and about. Jake...he's a rare sighting. But he's the kind of guy that doesn't care about what measures you take, all that matters is the outcome."

"Aren't you the same way?" you ask him with a challenging tone.

"I do what has to be done, but I do also try to keep in mind the consequences and who I might be hurting. Jake doesn't care so much for that."

"He sounds dangerous."

Marc snorts, "You have no idea, sunshine." He looks at you with soft eyes, "Are we going to be okay?"

You reach out, placing your hand on top of his, "I think so. Just, no more secrets. Got it?"

He makes an 'X' over his heart, "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"No dying anytime soon, please," you murmur and crawl over, pecking his lips, "I'm gonna finalize wedding stuff."

"Let me know if you need any help!" he hollers as you exit the bedroom.

"Will do!" you respond, your voice echoing through the halls.

"That went a lot better than expected," Steven says in relief.

"You're telling me, buddy," Marc murmurs back with a scoff.

"So it'll be happily ever after for you after all?"

"We can only hope, Steven," Marc replies back as he stands from the bed, and heads to the bathroom to shower.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.

[jojo-the-puppy]

i think if anyone from my area said they wanna fuck i'd hop on their car rn and go over

[good-beans]

A little creative summary for the year ✨ (Template)

Even though I'd done art inspired by/for others before, it was my first time doing proper trades and projects together -- thank you for including me :D

As for writing, I was worried about my thesis next year since I'll be rewriting most of my novel which is a lot to do in a single year..... until I realized I posted 83,794 words for fun in 2024.... 😅 (11,259 words of longfic projects, 54,642 words in drabbles, 17,893 words in creative but explanatory posts, and who knows how many in wips/unposted things :0)

Though writing on here may slow down bit with my thesis, there's no way you can stop me from working on fic completely 😂 I also have some translyric projects I want to complete within the year, as well as the usual art ideas I'm plagued with haha!

[icewindandboringhorror]

currently at That Point which occurs once every few months where one briefly begins pacing around the house teary eyed contemplating selling their own organs or becoming an online scammer or getting on anxiety meds so you can bear the risk taking required to be a hitman or so on and so forth.... why must everything so Expensive... Surely all would be healed in life if only I had one big plate of lasagna and a simple loan of $40,000 ... auoughhh....