#i use the engage model at work and the quiet model for sleep

[telumendils]

and like not to give a company free advertising but loop earplugs have honestly changed my life. i can work my 9-5 and while i'm still tired at the end of the day, i'm not nearly as frazzled. my mood is much better because i'm not getting overstimulated by sound. it's wild.

the way i didn't even realize how much excess sound overstimulates me until i started using earplugs at work.

[nanaslutt]

i have another toji idea but this time he’s your bodyguard!

readers dad is a really rich businessman or something and reader is basically serena van der woodsen! she’s always out partying doing drugs and sleeping around so her dad hires toji to keep close eye on her. she’s not happy about it obviously!

reader is in college and toji is like i dont know in his late 30s!!

Bodygaurd!Toji x RichBrat!Reader

contains: fem reader, legal age gap, drug use, non con/dub con (not from Toji), voyeurism, exhibitionism, choking, dacraphillia, restraints, rough sex, so much dirty talk, daddy kink (sorry), teasing, sexual tension, brat taming, multiple orgasms, size kink, Toji has a big dick and knows what aftercare is :3

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

The club music around the two men was blaring, Toji could feel a headache coming on. "That her?" Toji asked, pointing to a girl who was laughing at some college boy's joke by the bar, swatting his arm playfully. "She's uh.. that one there." Your father spoke, almost too quietly to be heard under the music. He pointed to you, you who were currently adorned in a skimpy black nightgown-esc dress, the fabric being pulled over the curve of your ass and exposing your lacy black thong without a care in the word to the room around you as you sat on a boy's lap, ruffling his hair as you sucked on his tongue, his hands leading your hips as he ground you down on top of him.

Toji turned his head back to your father, an unreadable expression on his face. Your dad held up his hands in the air, waving them in front of him. "S-shes a good girl really, just a little.. misguided." He said defensively. You loved your father, he was the only man in your life who acctually cared about you and didnt use you for your status or body. The two of you had a wonderful relationship, the only problem was you were an only child, and your mom had died early on in your life, resulting in him spoiling you a little too much.

So when you started acting out, wearing skimpier clothes, doing drugs, staying out late, frequenting parties, and bringing a new stranger home to fuck on his couch every night, you didn't exactly take to his words telling you to 'maybe calm down' in the best way. It's not like he had been strict about it when he talked to you, he had been very sweet and understanding when you said you were 'going through something'. Your father's lack of disciplinary skills combined with how much love he had for you and the constant mindset to always keep his sweet little girl happy had resulted in your behavior getting worse and worse.

Which is where Toji came in. You had just finished up a new photoshoot for a major modeling brand and it had brought you even more attention than you had been getting before, meaning you were going out more, and frequently engaged in unsafe sex and use of drugs. Your father couldn't stand to see you like this, so he hired you a body guard without consulting you first, someone he had worked with in the past, someone he knew wouldn't take your shit, because he sure as hell wasn't going to stop you.

Toji stayed quiet, watching your body sway and move in a way that was clear to him you were under the influence of something. The man beneath you looked too sober, and the way he had started to manhandle your drugged out body made his eye twitch. Toji had known you since you were a kid, he started doing business with your dad when he turned seventeen, and he saw you around sometimes too, although you looked quite different back then. "Do whatever you have to do, I just cant stand to see my little girl like this." Your father said, placing his hand on Toji's shoulder before he checked the time on his expensive wristwatch, clicking his teeth.

"I have to go, please don't leave her side, don't let her bring anyone home, and don't let anything enter her mouth that isn't food or water, alright? I'll be back in a week." When your dad had mentioned not letting you ingest anything that wasn't food and water—referring to substances—he couldn't help but think that might include other people's genitals too. He just had a hunch from the way you had started to palm at the man's crotch underneath you. "Right, is it alright if I use force if I gotta?" Toji asked, squinting his eyes as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

"Yeah that's.. that's fine.." Your dad answered hesitantly. Toji averted his gaze from you, turning his head to look at your father, he smiled. "Have a good trip, sir, Don't worry about your daughter, I'll stick around and whip her into shape for as long as you need me to." He reassured, before starting off in your direction.

Upon closer inspection, he could see your eyes were all out of focus, you looked like you didn't even know what was going on around you as the blond-haired boy roughly kissed your neck, starting to slide his hands down your ass, slipping his fingers underneath your panties. God, you really did look so much different from when he used to watch you lay on your stomach on the floor of your living room, watching your cartoons.

This new look didn't suit you quite as much, white powder on the table in front of you, girls and guys alike touching your skin wherever they could get in, drinks scattered around you, your bra peeking out of your dress as the strap slipped down your shoulder, your eyes rolled back in your head. He doubted you even knew the name of the man who was marking your neck. Hell, he doubted you knew any of the people around you. The people around you were too high off their asses to even notice Toji's presence as he stood right behind you, he was so close he could practically feel the heat radiating off your skin.

The boy under you looked up at him, pulling his lips away from your neck. "You wanna taste, get in line old man, 's how this shit works." He giggled, talking about you like you were some disposable inanimate tool. Toji grit his teeth, grabbing the boy's hand and stopping it before he could dip it any lower in your panties. "She's not even fucking here right now, you don't see anything wrong with that?" He asked, referring to how high you were. The boy was taken aback at Toji's sheer strength, "What the- let go of me man-" He tried yanking his hand away from Toji, but to no avail.

"Look- she fucking loves it its fine, ain't that right baby~" He asked, grinning as he took his other hand to grab your jaw, nodding it forcefully. You smiled drunkenly, your eyes all out of focus as he manhandled your head. "Alright, I've seen enough." Toji sighed, leaning down he picked you up with ease from underneath your arms and threw you over his shoulder, your ass being exposed even more—if that was even possible.

"What the fuck~" You slurred, eyes trying to focus on the constantly moving ground underneath you as Toji kept one hand on the small of your back, walking you out of the building. You felt dizzy and sick, the music was too loud, but you still felt the need to kick and scream at the man who was taking you away from the chaos. "Who the fuck are you? 'was fuckin' doing something back there.." You slurred, weakly struggling in his grip.

Toji stayed silent until he reached the exit, pushing the heavy wood open he took in the cool air of the night, the ice-cold oxygen feeling refreshing in both of your lungs. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, shooting a quick text to one of your drivers who was nearby to pick the two of you up, ignoring your 'hey- answer me''s in the backround. He slipped the device back into his pocket, plopping you down on the ground in front of him, making sure to keep a hand on your waist to insure you didn't fall over.

"Was it you I was kissing?" You asked, squinting your eyes at him as you leaned in, standing on your tippy toes you placed your hands on his solid chest to try to get a good look at his face. "I don't think he had black hair.." you slurred, losing your balance on your tippy toes, and falling back onto flat feet. Thanks to Toji's grip you didn't fall flat on your ass. "You don't even care do you?" He asked incredulously, keeping his tone steady as he let you grope his chest.

Toji took the opportunity to fix your appearance up a bit, pulling the strap of your dress back atop your shoulder so your bra was fully covered again; not like it made a huge difference thanks to how low the dress was, but he still wanted to give you some dignity; he used his large hands to slide down your waist, smoothing out your dress so it rested on your thighs once more as it should. His touch felt so good, it was a lot softer than the touches from the college boy's inside, you could work with this.

"Mmm, not really." You smiled up at him, biting your lip between your teeth as you looked him up and down. "You takin' me home to fuck me?" You mumbled, giving him a doped-out grin. "Not exactly." He replied. Seconds after, the car approached, and out came another middle-aged man who walked to the curbside and opened the door for the both of you. Toji held your waist as he walked you towards the open door. You stopped in your tracks, holding the top of the car door when you got close enough to see the driver's face.

You looked at him closely, narrowing your eyes. "Wait.. you're my driver.. why are you here? I'm not going home yet," you said confused, tuning your body to look between the two men. "Yes, you are," Toji replied, using a strong hand to manipulate your weak body as he pressed your shoulder down, pushing you into the car. "No- no wait- what the fuck? You said you were gonna fuck me." You slurred, watching the blurry picture of Toji slide into the car after you, the driver slamming it slut promptly.

Toji gripped your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, "Don't think your dad would like it very much if I fucked his daughter while she was high on coke." You blinked at him, trying to make the fuzziness in your vision go away, "'m not on coke, it's jus' molly, and why the fuck are you bringing up my dad?" You asked, trying to jerk your head away from his hand. "Your father hired me to be your personal cockblock, hope you're ready for rehab," Toji smirked, releasing your face as he bucked you into the seat, your body jolting when the driver pulled out into the street and started driving the two of you home.

—

You woke up with a headache, stomachache— honestly it would take longer to list what wasn't aching in your body. You groaned, stretching your limbs under your own sheets as you tried to wake yourself up. Wait, these are my sheets? How did I get home last night? you wondered. "Fuck.. water." You sat up, sitting on your ass as you curled your legs up to your chest, laying your forehead on your knees. Your throat was dry- like you had been stranded in the dryest desert for months, you tried to swallow, but it just felt like swallowing sandpaper. You didn't care as much about how you got home, too focused on trying not to throw up as you tried to gather the strength to stand.

You always regretted the morning after you went so hard like a night like the last. You always felt like a shell of yourself the morning after, no amount of drugs or sex could make that feeling go away until the next night, but it wasn't awful enough for you to break this little cycle you had going. "Need some water?" A voice rang in your ears, making your body jolt as you held your hand over your chest, scooting back on the bed as you looked in the direction of the voice to the large figure standing in your doorway.

A tall, balck haired and well build man who looked to be around your dad's age walked into your room holding a glass of water, you swore he looked familiar but you couldn't pinpoint where you had seen him before. You sighed, chalking it up to another unwanted one-night stand who had overstayed their welcome, although you didn't quite feel sore down there.. maybe his dick was just small? It's not like you could remember if you tried anyways. "Don't you know you're not supposed to hang around after we fuck? It's called a one-night stand for a reason." You said sharply, rubbing your temples with your fingers.

"Good thing we didn't fuck." Toji smirked, flipping on your light switch, making your face scrunch up in displeasure. You had no time to be confused when the light hit your eyes, making your headache worsen tenfold as you hid your face in your knees once again, pulling the sheets over your head. "Dude, what the fuck! Turn that shit off." You yelled, your voice coming to him muffled as you spoke into the sheets. "Its almost 2pm, you're not going to rot in bed all day, promised your dad I would take care of you, so get up." He said, uncrossing his arms as he started towards you, setting the water down on the bedside table as he stood at the side of your mattress, looking down at you.

His words made a flashback shoot through your brain, one of last night, the two of you in a car together, and this man had just told you he was your bodyguard. You turned your head to the side, squinting your eye at him as you tried to gauge if he looked like the same man in your flashback--unfortunately for you, he did. "Fuuuuuuuuuck." You groaned, half of the word being muffled when you turned your head back to your knees. "Remember me now, princess?" He asked, his deep, usually soothing voice meeting your ears in a grating, annoying way.

You pick your head up, giving him the best snarky smile you could manage while your body fought with the aftereffects of what you did to it last night. "You really think you're gonna stop me from doing what I want?" You raised your eyebrow challengingly at him, keeping your eyes on his darker ones. "I'm not as nice as your daddy, so yes, I do." He said, ripping the comforter off of your frame he grabbed your ankle and yanked you towards him on the bed, your night shorts and t-shirt he had dressed you in last night riding up, showing more of your thighs and midriff.

You stared at him in disbelief, your chest heaving at the sudden manhandling. "Don't touch me." You yanked your foot out of his grip and sat up, sliding off the bed hastily you made quick work of walking past the man, towards the bathroom. Toji winced when you slammed the door shut to the bathroom behind you, the sound echoing through the entire house, he was sure even the neighbors heard it. He sighed, sitting down on your bed, his big hand coming to rub his forehead in annoyance. "He better be paying me fucking good to put up with his little brat," Toji mumbled under his breath.

When his hand dropped into his lap, his vision was unobstructed once more, and under the illumination of the bright lights above your bed, and the absence of your presence distracting him, he could clearly see the bag of white pills on your dresser. "Jesus christ.." Toji whispered, his lip curling in disgust. He stood, pocketing the bag of substances to promptly flush down the toilet later. Something in the back of his head was telling him to check in your bedside table.

The man didn't exactly have the strongest morals, so he didn't think much of going through a college junkie girl's drawer. Just as he expected, when he pulled the drawer open he found three bright orange pill bottles, all labeled with different names. With a curt laugh, he pocketed those as well, he would make sure they were delt with appropriately. Once the drugs were in his pocket, he noticed the bright pink vibrator next to them, along with a baby blue dildo, some condoms he doubted you used, and panties with the crotch cut out.

He laughed, "Your good girl is actually pretty naughty.." He said under his breath, directed to your father. He didn't want to look too long, not because he was afraid of you finding out, he was sure you were going to the moment you came back in here, looking for something to take your pain away from the day before. He didn't want to look too long because he didn't want to imagine his boss's daughter sprawled out on her bed, legs wide as one hand pinched her nipples and the other used the vibrator on her sensitive little clit through the gape in the crotchless panties.

He heard the shower turn on, snapping him out of his thoughts as he shut the drawer, averting his gaze as he did so. He flicked the lights off in your room as he left, making his way down to the living room where your chef was preparing your breakfast, rich people. The old woman behind the counter who was cooking something that smelled devine, looked happy to be there though. He knew how genuinely nice your father was, and he figured you must've treated them with the same kindness for them to stick around.

He must've been sitting on the couch watching the old woman cook for quite some time because your figure emerged from the hallway leading into the open room, adorned in nothing but skimpy panties and a tank top. You were ruffling your hair in a pink towel, trying to dry it the best you could before you discarded the towel on the floor and jumped up on the expensive-looking bar stool in front of the kitchen. You sat on your knees, your ass poking out towards Toji, he watched as you twisted back and forth on the chair, showing off your body like you wanted him to see.

He was grateful you had come down here in a better mood than before, you must've not checked your empty dresser drawer yet. "Good morning" You spoke kindly to the old woman, to which she replied her own 'good morning' with a smile. He liked seeing you like this, this was the you he recognized. He could barely tell you were the same person who was letting yourself get manhandled on the lap of a stranger in the middle of a disgusting club high on drugs.

Toji just couldn't help but break the peacefulness of the morning with his deep voice, "Where are your clothes?" He asked, "You have company." You sighed, sitting your butt down on the stool you brought your foot up on the cushion, resting your chin on your knee as you tipped your head as you looked at him. "You're just my handler, right? So why are you talking right now?" Your face was scrunched in disdain, the girl from last night making an appearance, he had a hard time telling which of the two of you was real.

"Just sayin' it's unbecoming for a young lady like you to have your ass out so shamelessly." Toji retorted. "This is my house, I'll do whatever I want old man." You bit back, spinning around as the chef pushed your plate towards you, the colors of the different foods on your plate stimulating your brain that was dulled from last night's drugs. "Oh ma'am, I would be lost without you." You whispered to the chef, placing your hand ontop of her wrinkled one gratefully. You thought the conversation between you and your babysitter was over, so you were shocked when you felt his chest bump against your back, his large hand reaching over yours to grab the other plate the woman had made for him.

"Your daddy spoiled you too much, now you're just a stuck-up brat. You should listen to your elders y'know?" Toji scolded. His voice sent goosebumps down your spine, maybe this could be something, you always did love a good hatefuck. The warmth of his chest was gone as soon as it came as he took the plate back to the sofa, kicking his legs up on the coffee table as he started shoveling the food into his mouth sloppily. "When you stop treating me like a kid, I might." You answered, keeping your back to him to he couldn't see the blush that had spread across your face.

The two of you ate in silence, you were the first to get up, walking your plate over to the sink to clean the food off, when your phone started buzzing on the counter. You abandoned the plate in the sink, walking back over to see who was calling. Toji watched your eyes light up as you answered the phone, probably some college boy you were fucking with at the moment had called you to hook up. It was the middle of the day, students these days were relentless. "Tonight? Send me the address and I'll be there~" You cooed into the receiver.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize you had just been invited out to another party. Toji acted quickly, when you faced your body away from him, leaning against the fridge as you listened to the boy speak, Toji appeared behind you once again, snatching your phone out of your hand, "No she won't." Toji spoke for you, letting him know you would absolutely not be going to any parties under his watch before hanging up the phone. "Stop fucking doing that!" You yelled, your body jolting in surprise as you turned around, glaring at the man just inches from you.

You grabbed his wrist that was holding your phone, with your other you ripped the device out of his hand before digging your sharp nail into his chest and giving him a death stare from under your lashes. "Touch what belongs to me again Ill-" "You'll what? Fire me? Your pretty drugged-up brain keeps forgetting your daddy hired me?" He smirked, crossing his bulging biceps over his chest. You took a step back, shaking your head. "You won't tell me what to do, fucking watch." You spat, walking off to your room. Toji brushed it off as an empty threat, what could you possibly accomplish when he was watching your every move like a hawk?

When you reached the comfort of your bedroom you slammed the door shut, hoping Toji would hear from his place downstairs. Who the fuck was he to come into your life and order you around? And your dad had hired him too? Seriously? These old men needed to stop fucking intervening with you, you didn't need any help. After that thought ran through your head you made a path straight for your drawer, looking for a pill or two to at least make you feel like you weren't cooped up at home if you couldn't actually leave.

Curling your fingers around the handle you pulled it open and- what the fuck? The familiar orange bottles you kept next to your sex toys were nowhere to be seen. Even on your most fucked up nights you had never neglected to put the bottles back where they belonged in your drawer. There was only one person who could've done this. "OLD MAN!!" Toji heard your voice echo, your footsteps getting louder as you marched angrily into the living room. A grin spread across his face when your figure came into view, his feet still kicked up on the coffee table as he barely spared you a glance before he went back to watching his show.

"Do you really not know my name, or are you just being a brat?" Toji asked, keeping his eyes on the screen. You were fuming, you had spent your hard-earned money on those (not like you had a shortage of cash or anything, but you hated your drug guy, he was so pushy and not at all cute.) "Toji, you had no right to go through my drawers like that, seriously, you're more fucked up than you think I am!" You yelled, your face growing hot, veins pumping with adrenaline. Toji decided you were worth the time of day, tilting his head back against the couch cushion he looked at you.

"Your daddy said I could do whatever I wanted, he also said to keep all that nasty shit out of your pretty little body, so that's exactly what I'm going to do." He replied, raising his eyebrows as he looked you up and down, pausing on your crotch, still only clad in those skimpy panties he couldn't stand. You blushed at him calling your body pretty, his words making your brain forget its track of thought for a moment. "W-what I put inside me isn't any of your business." You retorted, placing your hand on your hip.

"It is when your father specifically tells me it is." Toji laughed. "If you want something inside you so bad why don't you put those toys to use? That'll give you some kinda high for sure." Your face heat up even more. You figured he had seen your toy stash in the process of him throwing your pills away, but you didn't think he was going to use them against you like this. "Did my dad tell you to harass me like this too? Fucking pervert." You spat. "You're calling me a pervert when you're walking around in front of me with just those little panties on? There practically fucking see-through."

You were feeling hot in a different place now. You still wanted to punch him so hard he threw up, but another part of you wanted to climb over the cough and straddle his hips, pull his cock out and sit on it, letting him fuck you dumb. You'd never fucked someone his age before, it sounded fun, you bet he had loads more experience than the college guys you were sleeping with. "Why are you looking?" You retorted, your voice losing its edge. "Don't you want me to?" Toji replied. The two of you kept your eyes on one another, the air around you thick, making it hard to breath as neither one of you dared to break the eye contact.

The doorbell ringing snapped you out of it, both of your heads turning to look at the massive entrance doors. Toji stood to get it, but you beat him to it, running over to the door. "I got it." You told him. He stood behind the sofa, watching you open the door in your slutty attire. Pulling open the door, a handsome man around your age came into view, his arms sticking out for a hug as he stepped inside. "Absolutely not," Toji spoke, making haste for the door to shove him out. "Relax, do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Toji raised his eyebrows like you knew what he was going to say, before he crossed his arms and let you finish.

"He's gay, nothing is going to happen. You won't let me go to this fucking party, and I am not staying here alone with you all day." You hissed. The boy behind you nodded, his hand wrapped loosely around your waist. Toji stayed quiet for a while, the boy hadn't said or done anything yet to contrast your words, so even though he was hesitant, he stepped aside, letting the two of you pass as you held his hand and dragged him in the direction of your room. He heard you giggle as you pulled him along with you, his eyes squinting before he shook off the feeling, finding his place once more on the comfortable sofa.

—

About an hour had passed since the boy had arrived and he hadn't heard anything suspicious yet. For having such a massive and expensive home, you sure had some thin fucking walls. Toji was starting to doze off, his show having long ended and now some drama had taken its place, droning on in the background. His eyes were fluttering shut, arms crossed over one another, and that’s when he heard it.

“Ahh!” His eyes shot open, scanning around the room as he tried to figure out if what he heard had been a figment of his imagination or not. “Fuck! Baby~ ngh!” There it was. All he needed to hear. You had fucking lied. He heard your moans echo through the walls, you were so loud it was like you wanted him to hear you. “This fucking bitch.” Toji mumbled under his breath, uncrossing his arms he stood and made haste for your room. The moans and crying began to be accompanied by slaps and squelches the closer he got to your closed door.

"Yeah~ give it to m-meee" you moaned between his thrusts. Truth be told, he wasn't fucking you well at all, you only invited him over because his looks rivaled Toji's, but even then he fell short. His thrusts were sloppy and felt more like he was jabbing around your cunt with a thin stick, but you wanted Toji to know you were in charge here, he wasn't going to come into your home and tell you what you could and couldn't do, so if it took a bad fuck to get that through his head, so be it, it's not like you were going to see this boy after today anyways.

You had a smile on your face, which the boy took as him fucking you good, his annoying moans filling up your ears, "Yeah? You like me fucking dick?" He whined, emphasizing his words with a thrust that made you yell out, not from pleasure; not like he would be able to distinguish the difference anyway, "Love ittt~" You faux moaned, fighting to keep a yawn from spilling through your lips. The boy kept jabbing his dick into your walls, and you got so immersed in listening to your own moans to get you through this, that your soul almost jumped out of your body when your door swung open.

Toji stood in the doorway, the vein on his forehead protruding out from under the skin as he took in your position. You were ass up, face down in the sheets, and he could tell right away you didn't like it as much as you were leading on, he saw right through your little game. It only took a couple steps for Toji to get from your doorway to standing behind the man at the edge of your bed. Faster than you could comprehend, Toji had yanked the boy back from the collar of his shirt, pulling him off the bed and out of you as he stumbled on the floor, awkwardly tucking his cock into his pants.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" You yelled, turning your body around you crawled towards them on the bed, reaching out for the boy like you wanted him to stay. This wasn't exactly what you had in mind, you wanted to rile Toji up and show him you could do whatever you wanted, but you didn't know he would storm in here and throw the boy out forcefully. You should've known he was the type of guy to pull something like this. "You know you're way out right?" He said to the confused boy you had dragged into your mess.

He held him up by the collar, bringing his face close to his own he tipped his head, waiting for the boy to answer. He nodded in fear, still trying to wrap his poor aroused head at what was happening. "Good, be a good boy and let yourself out, would you?" He whispered, throwing him forward and out of your room. The boy stumbled on his feet, trying to grab the wall so he didn't fall over before the door was being slammed shut in his face.

"Fuck! You asshole, Fuck!" You were behind Toji, grabbing at his shirt as you tried to get him to face you so you could yell at him properly. While he was throwing out your fuck, you had slid on your panties and pulled your tanktop back over your tits poorly, the hard buds of your nipples poking through the shirt. Toji wasted no time in turning quick on his heels as he grabbed you by the throat, your hands coming to grip at his wrist as he choked you out, pressing just hard enough that you could barely manage to get a stream of air through your esophagus.

He leaned his face close to yours, looking at how messy you looked with your tangled hair and smeared lipstick. "You really think you can get away with shit like that? Huh?" Toji asked, squinting his eyes at you. You whined, trying to give him a pout, "Aww, don't act like you wanted him to stay, he wasn't even fucking you right, was he? If I wanted to hear someone fake an orgasm I would've gone to pornhub." He said, looking between your glassy eyes and your swollen lips from the boys sloppy kissing.

"You're such a slut you know that? You can't go one fucking day without having a cock inside you, even if it's bad, huh?" He chastised, slowly walking you backward towards the bed, so slow you barely noticed it. "He get you high too? Hmm?" He asked, his other hand coming up to pull your eye down to get a better look at your pupils. "N-no." You whispered through his hand squeezing your throat. "No?" His eyes everted to the side table, where a few white pills sat atop the wood, waiting to be taken.

"But you were gonna let him get you high, weren't you?" He asked, following your face when you yanked it away from his hand that pulled down your eye. "None of your fucking business." You spat through your teeth. It was only then you realized you were back at your bed, your calves bumping into the mattress taking you out of your trance. "How is it none of my business when you were moaning like a pathetic slut just to get my attention?" He asked, tilting his head at you as he slid his massive thigh between your own, his knee pressing against your crotch.

You kept silent, pouting at him as you kept your pretty eyes locked on his, waiting for him to do anything. "You sure you ain't high right now?" He asked, to which you quickly nodded. Toji smirked, huffing out a smile at your unapologetic display of lust, "Ur' pupils that big cos you're horny then?" Your arousal spiked tenfold when he announced your need. You licked your lips, nodding at his words as you shamelessly let your eyes fall on his plump lips, dragging between them and his dark eyes.

Toji was feeling conflicted. On one hand, he could think of no better time to put you in your place and fuck the brat out of you, showing you who was really in charge here, you were sober and so clearly wanted it after all. The more rational side of him was telling him this was his boss's daughter, who was twice his age, so he absolutely should not fuck her. Unluckily for the rational side of his brain, your hard nipples poking through your shirt and the smell of your arousal that was still evident in the room was more than enough to sway him, the primal side of him winning as he listened to his urges.

"You wanna find out how it's supposed to feel to get fucked?" Toji whispered, like if he said the words too loud, your father who was currently in another country might hear. You nodded, pulling your lip between your teeth. He laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation before he pressed his lips to yours, the pair of you instantly groaning into the other's mouth. You don't know if you've ever felt this aroused in your life. Even his kisses made you feel something you've never experienced before, was every kiss supposed to feel like this?

Toji slowly pushed you back on the bed, keeping his knee between your legs as he hovered over you, releasing your neck and instead using one hand to pull your panties off, his other resting by your head so he didn't crush you. You wrapped your hands around his strong neck, whimpering into the kiss. He heard you giggle when you threw your panties somewhere in the room, sliding his hand up your waist as he situated you on the bed, pulling your thighs around his hips. "Whats so funny?" He asked, pulling back from the kiss as he watched you smile underneath him, tilting your head as you loosened your arms around his neck.

"Jus' wondering what my dad would think if he saw what the bodyguard he got to protect his little girl was doing to her right now~" You giggled, biting your lip. Toji shook his head, keeping his eyes on yours as he wordlessly dipped his fingers down to your pussy, teasing up and down your soaked entrance. "Yeah, what would he think about you fucking someone twice your age? Fuckin' brat." He spat, watching your smile fade and your expression be replaced with your slacked jaw and raised eyebrows as your eyes fluttered when he dipped his large fingers into your hole, pressing into it teasingly before pulling away.

"I know he's used to seein' you slut yourself out to those dumb college boys, but this might shock him.. huh?" He cooed, pressing his fingers into your cunt slowly, your walls greedily swallowing up his thick digits. "F-fuck-" You cursed, your eyes falling shut, tipping your head agaisnt the pillow. "That feel good baby? You like feelin' this old man's fingers in your pussy? Fuckin' into your sweet spot?" He whispered, bringing his lips against yours once more, hovering them against you as he inhaled your reactions when he curled his fingers, massaging your g-spot with precision.

"Right there-" You gasped quietly against his lips, wiggling your hips down onto his fingers. "Right here? Yeah? When's the last time someone actually touched you right here, hmm?" He asked, softly kissing your lips before he went back to hovering his lips over yours. "I-I don't know." You whispered, trying to kiss him back but he kept his lips just far enough away from yours that you couldn't manage. "No? That why you're so fucking insatiable huh? Jus' waiting to find the guy who will actually fuck you right?" You were dripping around his fingers. His soft teasing words were a stark contrast to his fingers that now pistoned in and out of you, wet squelching noises bouncing off the walls and echoing into your ears, driving you mad.

"Mhm- mhm-" You replied, nodding your head rapidly, feeling your orgasm come on quickly. "You're not gonna find that with these fuckin' college boys sweet thing, 'ya need a man for that, someone a little.. older." He whispered, making you whine against him as he curled his fingers into a particularly sensitive spot. You abandoned one of your arms around his neck, reaching between you to grab his wrist. Your eyes cracked open, staring up at him as you breathed heavily. "All it takes is a couple fingers and you're a good girl, isn't that right?" He asked, feeling you squeeze around his fingers.

He continued to drill his fingers into you, your back arching against him as moans fell freely from your lips, your nails digging into his wrist as you felt your orgasm creep up on you. "You gonna cum for me, princess?" Toji asked knowingly, smirking when you nodded against him. You felt it, it was right there, well within your grasp when- suddenly the stimulation stopped, your orgasm fizzling out. Your eyes peeled open, eyebrows scrunched together as you looked up at him with a crimson face. "You sure?" He asked, his smirk growing.

Toji abandoned his fingers from your pussy, pulling them out with a pop as he sat back on his heels, replacing his lips with his fingers soaked in your cum as he pressed them against your lips, watching while you eagerly took them into your mouth, moaning around them as you tasted yourself on your tongue. Of course, you were mad Toji had pulled away right before you came but with the way he had rubbed inside your walls so nicely, your brain couldn't think of anything bratty to say as you sucked on his fingers, watching his eyes watch your lips as he unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock in one swift movement.

You moaned around his fingers when your eyes made contact with his girth, it was massive, way bigger than anything you had taken before, even bigger than your dildo. His was prettier than other dicks you'd seen too, a pretty flushed and tripping tip to contrast against a slightly darker color of his length. He jerked his cock steadily, pressing his fingers deeper into your mouth. "You like what you see, brat?" Toji asked, grinning when he felt your tongue slide over his fingers, mimicking the way you sucked a cock.

Toji groaned through a smile when you grabbed his wrist tighter and pushed his fingers into your throat, bobbing your head around them. "Someone trained you before me, huh? Who taught you to suck fingers like a dick?" Toji asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You swallowed your arousal and saliva in your mouth before pulling his fingers from you, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers. "I don't remember." You smiled drunkenly, making his cock twitch as he didn't let up his strokes on it. "Such a slut." He said, shaking his head.

You whined at his words, spreading your legs around his thighs to make more room, you dropped your hands down to his cock and wrapped both your hands around the tip, jerking what you could while he kept up his own ministrations on his cock as well. "You gonna slut yourself out for me too? Show me how good you are at taking cock?" He asked, releasing his hand from his dick he leaned over you, placing his forearms around your head as you stroked the entirety of his cock in your hands, wrapping your legs around him.

"Yeah~" You answered, looking between the two of you as you pressed his fat tip against your entrance, his cock leaking against your pussy. "You gonna fuck me raw, daddy?" You whispered against his ear. Toji swore his brain stopped working, his cock throbbed in your hold at the name. He audibly groaned, pressing one of his hands over your mouth, "Don't do that." He warned, swallowing hard as his smile faded from his face, his arousal plastering itself all over his features.

Toji felt a new need, a rawer, more primal one. He knew he shouldn't have felt as aroused as he did when you called him that, but he couldn't fucking help it. He kept replaying your words over in his head, one of your hands came up to pull his down off of your mouth, while the other stayed between your legs, his tip pushing past the ring of your cunt, making the both of you gasp. "You like it when I call you that, huh?" You whispered, watching his jaw go slack and his eyes roll back as he slipped deeper and deeper into your cunt. "Fuck- you're so- haah- so big-" you whined, his cock pressing agaisnt your sweet spot ruining your attempts at being in control for even a second.

"Yeah.." Toji moaned, his eyes peeled open again to watch your expression as you took his cock, "Let's see if you're still runnin' that fuckin' mouth when I'm done with you." He finished, thrusting his cock to the hilt unexpectedly, knocking the wind out of you. The older man started up a brutal pace inside your cunt, his eyes rolling back at how tight and warm you were around him. Both of your hands came down to push against his pelvis, trying to get him to slow down, "Fuck! T-toji w-wait wait-" You whined at the painful stretch.

"Nah, what happened to 'daddy' huh? Though you liked callin' me that shit." He asked, not letting up his hips, ignoring your hands trying to push him away. "Stop fucking whining, you can take it, ur' such a big fuckin' girl who can take anything, right?" Toji smirked, biting down on his teeth when he felt you squeeze around him. Incohearant moans were being fucked out of you, one of your hands starting to circle around your little clit in small circles as you felt yourself rapidly approach your orgasm.

He gripped both of your wrists together, stopping your motions as he pinned your hands above your head, watching your head thrash back and forth against the sheets. "Answer me brat." He spat, picking up the pace of his hips. "Fuck f-fuck D-daddy please-" You wined, letting him hear exactly what he wanted to hear. You've never called anyone other than your father that name; really only calling Toji the nickname in the first place to tease him; so it felt foreign calling Toji that in this setting, but seeing how worked up it got him made you aroused as well.

He groaned once again at the nickname, his hand that wasn't pinning your arms above your head came down to rub at your clit, finding it with pinpoint precision and rubbing it in circles just how you liked it. "Oh fuck me-" you groaned, your eyes rolling back, head tipping back in the sheets, revealing your still marked-up neck to him. He hated the sight, he wanted to lean down and replace the ugly purple marks with his own, darker ones, so that's exactly what he did.

He found the bruises with his eyes first, then made sure his lips were covering them before he started sucking the skin into his mouth, making you gasp. "When's the last time someone touched your clit for you?" Toji asked, noticing how tight you got around him when you rubbed the little bud, your legs squeezing his waist simultaneously. "I- I don't know I- Fuck!" Your head pushed further back into the sheets as Toji kept sucking on your neck. "Feels soo much better when someone else does it huh?" Toji asked knowingly.

Your moans were raising in pitch, the noises coming less frequently as your high crept over you, your breath stuttering in your chest as you came hard, all over his dick, moaning out his name and broken cries of 'daddy' as you did. "Oh- fuck yeahhh~ Cum all over daddy's fucking cock princess, that's fucking right~" He leaned back from your neck, pressing your wrists into the bed harder as he fucked you through your first orgasm, your walls squeezing him like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth. You came down, gasping and crying in overstimulation as Toji kept fucking you, the squelching louder now thanks to your orgasm.

"That feel good baby? Wanna feel that again?" He asked, laughing at how tears had started to fall down your cheeks. "P-please fuck- Your cock feels so- fucking- good-" You praised through his rough thrusts, his hips making your body slide up on the bed from how hard he was fucking you. "Yeah? I bet it feels good, you're fucking shaking." Toji laughed, slowing his thumb against your clit so as to not overstimulate you to the point of passing out, as validating as it would be to see you literally pass out from his cock, he didn't want to deal with that right now.

"You like my p-pussy?" You asked, smirking at him, noticing how his grip on your wrists tightened when you asked him that. His cock twitched as he watched your tits bounce from under your shirt, your nipple occasionally popping out from under the fabric. "Who taught you to speak like that? Such a filthy fucking mouth." Toji chastized, picking up his thumb on your clit once more, wanting to see you fall apart one more time on his dick before he came.

"Y- fuck T-you didn't answer-" You wined, feeling the coil tighten in your stomach once more. Everything about this man was making your entire body feel like it was on fire. How confident he was, how he knew your anatomy like the back of his hand, how he seemed to know every little button on your body that made you twitch and whine, all of it was driving you crazy. "You want me to tell you how much I love fucking you little pussy? Huh?" He stared, groaning against your lips as he leaned down, kissing you between words.

"Want me to tell you how I almost came when I got inside you? How good it feels when you twitch around me?" He whispered, kissing you hungrily, swallowing up your high-pitched moans as his hips lost rhythm. "That what you wanna hear? How you have daddy losing his mind in your tight little cunt?" You pulled off of his lips, practically screaming his name as your high crashed over you once more, his words being the final straw that got you there.

Toji dropped his head to your neck, biting the skin there to keep his groans at bay. "Fuck- fuck- where do you want it?" Toji rushed, hoping you were able to respond through your orgasm, or he was going to cum inside you anyways. "I-inside daddy f-fill me up!" You slurred through your high, riding your orgasm out on his dick as he continued to pull his cock almost completely out before bullying it back inside you. "Yeah? Want me to cum inside you? God- you drive me fucking crazy-" Toji continued to thrust inside your tired cunt, fucking you once more into overstimulation as he groaned loudly into your neck; he never was one to be shy about being loud in bed.

"Fuck- It's coming- gonna fill you up baby, 'n you're gonna take every last fucking drop, right?" He asked. He desperately needed to hear you say it. "Yes baby yes- g-gonna take it all- c-cum inside me pleasee~" You slurred, the pulsing of your walls working him over just right as his breath hitched at the first rope of his hot cum shooting inside your cunt. His teeth dug into your neck when he came, his hips stuttering as he humped them against you every time his cock shot out his cum. "Yessss~ Fucking give it to me daddy~" you slurred against his ear, giggling.

He stilled against you, the aftershocks of his orgasm wracking through his body, his grip had tightened around your wrist almost completely cutting off your circulation, you were sure to have bruises there in the morning. The two of you panted when he finally came down from his high. He sat up, slowly pulling his cock out of your sore and red pussy, his eyes watching as his thick cum spilled out of your hole and down the curve of your ass. "Take a picture if you wanna~" You said, squeezing your calves around his waist.

Toji shook his head, "You should be careful with that, you know who you are, don't you?" Toji said, scooping up his cum he stuffed his fingers back inside you, keeping it all in. You didn't know what to say back, guys usually jumped at the opportunity to take a picture of you all ruined like this, was it weird to say you were almost charmed by Toji looking out for you? "Your legs alright?" He asked, his voice breaking the silence when he noticed how shaky they were.

You weren't used to someone asking how you were after sex either.. this Toji.. he was weird. "Uh, yeah, just a little sore." You said, uncharacteristically shy. His eyes glanced up at your bashful face, before they found your wrists, seeing bright red marks imprint on the skin there, he admit the sight was erotic, but that shit look like it hurt. "Shit, sorry," Toji mumbled, his hand reaching up to your hands on your tummy to rub your wrist softly in his hands. "Didn't mean to fuck your shit up so bad." He laughed. You giggled at his choice of words, "It's fine, it felt good." you replied.

Toji had started to climb off the bed, tucking his cock into his pants a he laughed, walking towards the entrance of your room. Right, he was going to leave now, just because he was a good fuck doesn't mean he was going to stay now. "Don't move," he instructed, making you snap out of your thoughts. You watched Toji exit the room, you heard the skin in the bathroom turn on briefly before the water stopped, soon after the large man entered the room again.

You hadn't moved, just like he told you to. You watched him crawl back on the bed, a damp rag in his hand as he wiped your legs down, starting from your ankles, "I would carry you to the shower, but you wouldn't be able to stand anyway." He laughed. You pulled your leg back, out of his grasp, "What are you doing?" You asked. Toji looked at you like you were dumb, "I'm cleaning you up?" He said like it was obvious, roughly pulling your leg back towards himself so he could wipe you clean again, kissing your ankle before he threw it over his shoulder, scooting forward to wipe down the underside of his thigh.

"You're weird, Toji fushiguro." You said, blushing at his sudden soft treatment of your body. The man laughed, reaching your sore cunt he dragged the towel through your folds, cleaning the mess the two of you made there as you groaned in distain. "Okay, baby." He replied.

[chatange]

get to know me meme

hehe this was an ask game thing but im making it into a survey

1. selfie

no thank u

2. what would you name your future kids?

rosemary and daniel

3. do you miss anyone?

every day, someone different

4. what are you looking forward to?

i have a pretty ring coming in the mail! im also looking forward to buying my friends' late christmas gifts

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?

my partners <3

6. is it hard for you to get over someone?

incredibly at times

7. what was your life like last year?

very slow and sad but i learned a lot. grew up a lot. learned to be less self centered

8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

no but ive cried from sheer rage

9. who did you last see in person?

my store manager

10. are you good at hiding your feelings?

im not sure. to some people, i think so. but to others im an open book. i like to think i am.

11. are you listening to music right now?

yeah! sleep like wolves by lalleshwari

12. what is something you want right now?

ooogh 10 lashings for every transgression committed

13. how do you feel right now?

a little nauseous. kinda horny. good mood tho

14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

my dad just this morning

15. personality description

im sort of stoic and quiet at first. i dont express very well and tend to say whatevers on my mind. im quick to make jokes and have a very dry sense of humor. but im a gift giver and i like to think im very generous. im pretty patient. sleazy to the right crowd. my closest friends all think im very cuties

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

of course?

17. opinion on insecurities.

my own or in general? in general, no one cares as much as you do. and on my own.. most of them are psychological and rarely crop up. sometimes i wish i were more subtle. more gentle.

18. do you miss how things were a year ago?

oh god no

19. have you ever been to New York?

nope

20. what is your favourite song at the moment?

21. age and birthday?

24. 07/26

22. description of crush.

hehehehe noooo... hes 6'2.

23. fear(s)

heights.. being alone for the rest of my life. god.

24. height

5'8

25. role model

jackie kennedy and sharon tate

26. idol(s)

fiona apple, trent reznor, gerard way, bob dylan, pete wentz

27. things i hate

neglect of responsibilities. hypocrites. explaining myself

28. i’ll love you if…

youre thoughtful and show effort for me

29. favourite film(s)

the matrix, the secretary, crash, saw 1

30. favourite tv show(s)

gotham, the golden girls, who's the boss, three's company

31. 3 random facts

a. i smoke marlboro menthol blacks

b. i use the same monitoring headphones as trent reznor

c. my not sf(w) tumblr is @boykink

32. are your friends mainly girls or guys?

my best friend is a girl but my system friends are all guys

33. something you want to learn

how to play an instrument... french... russian...

34. most embarrassing moment

probably starting my period at work recently and needing to run off in the middle of a rush

35. favourite subject

psychology and behavioral forensics

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

having kids, owning a house, travelling to greece at least once

37. favourite actor/actress

james spader, jesse eisenberg, maggie and jake gyllenhaal, river phoenix, keanu reeves

38. favourite comedian(s)

jim carrey, chris fleming

39. favourite sport(s)

ice skating, acrobatics

40. favourite memory

getting engaged to my partner a year and a half ago

41. relationship status

engaged

42. favourite book(s)

flowers in the attic and misery

43. favourite song ever

whisper by evanescence

44. age you get mistaken for

-21. im not joking everyone i work with thought i was like 19 or something. i once had a school bus stop for me earlier this year

45. how you found out about your idol

knowing good music ig

46. what my last text message says

its dirty i cant share

47. turn ons

scent, pain, bein a little mean.

48. turn offs

not being confident enough, letting me lead, being unhygenic

49. where i want to be right now

in the same place just with chocolate milk

50. favourite picture of your idol

dont wanna find one so skip

51. starsign

leo

52. something i’m talented at

poetry i think! and maybe making music

53. 5 things that make me happy

a. cats

b. my partner

c. my best friend

d. plushies

e. jewelry

54. something thats worrying me at the moment

money and food, always

55. tumblr friends

they know who they areeee

56. favourite food(s)

apparently theyre called jaffa cakes. love those. curry and rice (any kind). salsa verde.

57. favourite animal(s)

cats, white tail deer, bears, bunny rabbits

58. description of my best friend

shes hard headed but so so earnest and sweet to everyone. shes the funniest person in the world and could make a dead man laugh. shes one of the last good people on this earth and shes everything to me. i hope we never die and if we do its at the same time. shes also mean as FUCK

[unschoolhome]

Control

This weekend we went camping and I did not force Z to put on pants as the sun set when she did not want to. I gave her time to get used to the idea and by the time she had come around she had a bug bite. For the next week, neither one of us is going to be sleeping well because of this bite (she reacts severely). She is not going to be able to play how she wants to because the pain will require she sits frequently with an ice pack on the bite.

We coordinated with some families to do a potluck dinner. Once at the campsite, I realized there may not be enough food and that the other families eat much later than we do and my kids started acting like starving little beggars.

I didn't pack enough wet wipes or other little odds and comfort ends.

Discussion around future vacations has led to think, for the first time, how important it is for me to be making my own money. I look forward to the time the kids are launched sufficiently for me to take on paid work once again.

All these situations make me go, See?! This is why I am the way I am.

When we got home from camping, my husband put on an episode of The Waltons for the hot, exhausted, allergy-riddled kids. They watched TV for an hour total - not during the usual time. Inside, I was raging with fury (this is how we deal with boredom?? They are running away from their feelings instead of processing them! If we start watching now, the whole day will slip by!). My husband sweetly sat with them and watched the whole episode and they all discussed it. Then the TV went off and no one mentioned it again for the rest of the afternoon.

Y and X have been sleeping in later and later. Recently, Y announced that he prefers to get up earlier (7:30am) and start the day, else he feels harried. He misses that morning quiet. X said that 8:30 is a better start for his day. He absolutely loves lounging in bed if there is no where to go. I had been kind of panicking about the slippery slope of delayed wake times and destroyed circadian rhythms, but I'm glad I didn't say anything. They figured it out on their own.

My husband shared that some big dreaming I have been doing has been putting a lot of pressure on him. He wants to give me the world and it's not possible.

Moments like these make me think, I have to trust people. I have to step back and not lead all the time.

Preparing for this camping trip, I got cranky and resentful. When I dug deeply into why: I was worried my needs would not be met.

Each day is a delicate balance between meeting my own needs and extending myself to the duty of motherhood where I meet both the routine and emergent needs of my children.

I walk that line, that knife's edge, of being too controlling, such that we engage in power struggles at best and the kids do not learn crucial life skills at worst; and being too lackadaisical, such that important things slip through the cracks and we all have to live with unpleasant consequences, including the drain of already-limited resources.

One of the things I fear the most is my kids' disappointment.

Key take-away: Help kids live a life where they feel empowered to meet their needs.

Modeling is part of that.

In a podcast episode of We Can Do Hard Things, Glennon Doyle asks how we can avoid being in a co-dependent relationship with our children (under 18). Expert answer: you can't! They're literally dependent on you.

[two-wizards-in-a-trench-coat]

@pearsfears i was planning on making a full review in case anyone that follows me is interested in getting some/hesitating so allow me to tag you in it!! :)

I got the quiet 2 and engage 2 models (they changed generations not too long ago from what I can tell, and there's at least a visual difference with the older ver. I never tested them before so I can't say more than that)

Engage : meant to reduce the sound by 8 decibels

-> there isn't a huge noise difference with these, and at first I definitely thought I was putting them on wrong. After some time (and testing) I would describe it as; you can hear everything as well as you did before, but the sounds are less invasive and harsh. Given that this model is advertised as meant for day to day conversation I would say they work the way they were meant to.

from an autistic (and general sensory sensitivity) these seem more appropriate to put on before a situation that you know might give you discomfort, but wouldn't help if you were already overwhelmed.

Quiet : meant to reduce the sound by 14 decibels

-> The sound difference is directly noticeable, no doubt. You can still hear strong/ intense noises, but as if they were far away or muffled. Smaller noises like walking or manipulating objects are barely noticeable anymore, if at all. I would put it at the same level as these foam earplugs you can get from the pharmacy in terms of noise reduction.

This model is also more comfortable, as there is no hole in the part that goes in your ear and the loop is made from a softer plastic. These are advertised as made for sleep and deep focus, so again i'd say it works well for its intended use. Talking to other people while wearing it is a challenge, as not all their speech passes through and it's hard to control your own voice.

This version seems more like the right choice if you're the kind of person to get suddenly overwhelmed by sound and need something to help calm down.

Both of these models do one thing : make your own voice, breathing, etc louder. i can hear my blood pumping lol.

->This is unavoidable due to the fact that these are earplugs. I can definitely see this being a source of stress for some individuals, but in my case it doesn't bother me it even calms me down.

To test if this is something that could be an issue, i'd say using foam earplugs should do the trick. If it is, I would recommend going towards noise cancelling headsets as I've been told they don't do that as much. (can't give more info than that on them sorry i'm a plug guy. <- i hate this sentence but i'm living with it)

You gotta change/adjust the plug !!

-> the comfort/efficiency is 200% affected by the plug part. It takes some trial and error ( most annoying 20 minutes of my life ) but yeah it changes a LOT. Pay attention that your ears might need different plugs on each side, and that it might change with the model (ex : i'm s/xs with the engage, but s/s with the quiet)

I'll try to come back and make an add-on about long time wear.

look what came in today!! 😎

[merakiui]

Idk how much u learned about Rollo but it is canon that he hid his diary behind a brick in a furnace, now that could also mean that there are many secret rooms in NBC, so the NRC children are staying for 3 days and 2 nights

He's already shown fondness for the prefect and let's just say he slowly becomes obsessed. He asks her if she's interested in seeing something while she's here to make up for his wrongdoings and she automatically says the library. Rollo knows of all the secret rooms the school has and the library has one as well the perfect amount of space for two, to get as scandalous as possible especially since after the first day crimson flower fiasco all his thoughts immediately drift to her and the warm smile she showed him at the festival, the dance they shared at the ball, the warm, hot pants of his name called out in his dreams by her, they must be signs from a higher being are they not?

I think it’s so cute that he hides his diary and regularly writes in it. Even though I’m certain his writing tools are probably just ballpoint pens, I can’t help imagining Rollo with really cute stationery and he decorates every page in his journal to match the theme of it. orz

As stiffly traditional as Rollo may seem, he knows how to have fun. He just rarely engages in such pleasures because he’s the student council president—a role model for all of Noble Bell. If the students knew their president was falling behind in classes, avoiding his duties as bell keeper, and ignoring all of the rules that keep the order and peace within school grounds, they might think it’s appropriate to get away with all sorts of foolish antics, especially antics involving magic.

So when it comes to you, he finds that he wants to shed all of his layers and have fun. But such a feat is nearly impossible for someone who has confined himself in his own little bubble, never quite stepping out of his comfort zone. Rollo does not ‘loosen up.’ He’s only ever been stressed and sleep-deprived. But whenever he’s with you he feels less restless than usual. It seems your smile is enough to invigorate him, which is exactly why Rollo comes to you and asks if you’d like to know of the secret spaces scattered throughout Noble Bell’s campus. Naturally, as someone who’s familiar with the school’s layout, he would know of the best places for sly escapes, quiet study sessions, and relaxing naps. He’s guilty of using one of these spaces for himself, for his diary is hidden within the loose brickwork. Not that anyone needs to know this fact, though.

When you’re in such a narrow, cramped area, where the walls practically close in and force the two of you closer together, a million thoughts race through Rollo’s mind. It would be so easy to lean down and close what little distance remains between the two of you. And when you’re practically pushed against him in the dark, your surroundings lit by the faintest magical glow, he can smell the shampoo you use. He has to force all of his lustful thoughts to the back of his mind because if he dwells on them any longer you might feel the strain in his pants when you’re standing so close, your ass nearly pressing against his hips.

His dreams aren’t very helpful either. He tries to snuff this love that’s spiraling out of control. He writes about it in his journal in hopes of dispelling these feelings; they always persist even after he’s crumpled and burned the papers containing rotten infatuation. He’s written a few sonnets; those have been charred to ash as well. He tries to busy himself with council work. He spends extra hours in the bell tower, scrubbing away in an effort to chase your image from his mind. Yet you always appear in his brain in the most compromising situations.

He thinks of how intimate it would be to take you in one of the secret passages spread throughout the school, where you’re forced onto his cock in the tight space. He thinks of kissing you under the Bell of Salvation, listening to its haunting chimes and the sound of skin on skin. He thinks of how much he’ll miss you when you make your inevitable return to Night Raven College after the trip has reached its conclusion. He thinks of that dance you shared under magnificent lights, where he spun you and you’d smiled so brightly—so full of forgiveness. He thinks he might just die if he doesn’t have you all to himself, which is as codependent as it is unhealthy. But Rollo can’t help it. He’s in love with you.

This is the first time anyone has given him these feelings. And though they were unwelcome and uncomfortable in the beginning, he’s begun to embrace them. He wants to prove his devotion to you in a tiny, shadowed space between bookshelves in the library or in an attic-like space that overlooks the floor below.

Most of all, he wants to chain you to him so that you’ll never be taken from him. So that you’ll always remain at his side. So that he can love you whenever he pleases, and you’ll be able to return such sweetness tenfold. The City of Flowers is known for steamy romances and sugary, blossoming feelings. It’s only natural Rollo would want to share these pleasures with you in hopes that you might fall for him in the same way you’ve fallen for the city and its lovely charms.

He was never afforded a proper happily ever after when he was a child, but now he thinks he can attain just that when he’s with you. He is not the villain in your love story. He is not the hero. He is not the misunderstood monster. He is just Rollo, the one who will cherish you forever. You can fight him, you can curse him, you can ignore him. But one way or another you’ll come to feel his love. How can you not when it’s piled onto you in waves, leaving you suspended in an ocean of obsession? And you can only tread water in this suffocating relationship for so long before you sink.

[surreality51]

Tagged by @zingaplanet. Thanks for the tag game! I LOOOOOOVE these things. I’m the kid who liked filling out forms, surveys, and scantron bubbles just for the fun of it.

 Sign: Aries. Not sure what that’s supposed to mean, since each website has a different list of traits. 

^I mean, I guess that’s me, if you took all those characteristics and squeezed them down to fit inside a mouse. I am a very quiet, nervous, and shy creature on the surface, so I’m like the opposite of Aries. But if you leave me alone and leave some cheese out for me, I might scurry out and do some of the above things when no one is looking. Just very quietly though. 

Height: I’m 5’4” in the US or 162 cm in the rest of the world

Last thing I googled: convert 5’4” to centimeters for the above question. Before that, it was “Rafael nadal not friends Federer.” I was trying to figure out where and when that quote came from.

Number of followers: 282. Honestly I’m surprised there are even that many, given how I go dormant for YEARS at a time, only to pop up in a completely different and unrelated fandom.

Amount of sleep: that I want or that I get? I need 5 hours to be functional and 9 hours to be happy. I usually get 5-6 hours because I’m a tired working parent. If you leave me alone, I will sleep for 13 hours straight, no problem.

Lucky #: don’t have one really

Wearing: the same clothes that I’ve worn for the last 2 days (see note above about being a tired working parent)

Dream job: realistically, I’m pretty happy with my current job as it sits at the intersection of what I’m interested in (education, social justice) and what my job skills are. It’s not a perfect job, but it suits me a lot and I find my work interesting, engaging, and meaningful. If we’re talking la la unicorn land, then when I was a kid I wanted to be the editor of Rolling Stone magazine. (This was back in the 90s when Rolling Stone was still relevant, ok?) Not because I was particularly into music--I didn’t discover the radio until I was 10 years old--but because I imagined that if you were the editor of such a famous magazine, you would probably have a killer corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking San Francisco Bay and I wanted that. When I was a teenager, I wanted to be a model or a book editor, the former because I liked the idea of traveling and looking fabulous (despite me having no fashion sense at all), the latter because I thought I could get paid for reading books.

Movies/books that summarise me: I have no idea. Maybe Love Actually because I have been blessed with love and good fortune in many forms in my life, but underneath it all I’m a total dork who doesn’t understand how I got this lucky and yet I keep flailing about trying to keep it going and somehow it still works out.

Favourite song: too hard to pick just one, but there are many songs that have special meaning for me and that instantly carry me back to a particular time and place in my life:

“You and Me Song” by The Wannadies

I first heard this song while slow dancing with future-husband in his room after coming back from prom, just the two of us, right before we shared our first kiss. This song perfectly captures our early years together.

“Wake Up” by Arcade Fire

Sorry, heavy content ahead, feel free to skip: This song suddenly came on the radio in the car as we were driving home from the hospital after my husband’s oldest sister had just passed away from cancer. She was 14 years older than him and was like a second mom. She bought him his first pair of Air Jordans with the money she earned from her first real job. We were devastated and reeling. Just as this song came on, the skies opened up and rain started pouring down out of nowhere. We were on a long, winding highway between two counties, just the two of us and empty desert on either side at 2am. It felt like his sister was crying with us from the heavens, so we both sang/screamed/yelled this song at the top of our lungs while tears streamed down our faces. The moment the song was over, we lost the radio station and the rain stopped, as suddenly as it came. (For those of you who don’t know, this song is from the album Funeral.)

“Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

We made our entrance to our wedding reception to this song, skipping and holding hands and spinning each other until I got dizzy and he had to catch me. This song perfectly captures the deep intimacy, warm familiarity, and abiding love of our later years together. 

Fav instrument: Like any proper Asian child, I can play the piano, but I’ve always loved violin music too.

Aesthetic: that describes me or that I like? For my personal style, my sister always says I have no fashion sense. She s completely correct, in that I don’t fit into a specific aesthetic. And yet, I can never seem to find clothes I like. Go figure.

For my dream interior design, I like the simplicity of Scandinavian design. Think minimalist with wood and metal accents in a clean, open design.

As for my actual interior design, I currently live in an art gallery curated by a 3 year old and a 6 year old. There are a lot of rainbows and stick figures on the walls.

Fav author: don’t really have one, although I’m a sucker for modern fantasy, magical realism, and the like. Honestly I mostly read fanfic these days. In my scholarly days, I liked the poetry of John Donne and modern American poets like H.D., WH Auden, Marianne Moore, and Emily Dickinson.

Fav animal noise: birds singing. Little song birds, not the giant ravens or little green parrots that caw incessantly outside.

Random: 

Tagging: @bluskype, @roscoespaws, @a-swiss-and-a-spaniard​, @pearandalmondtart​, @janerurlife​

[warsofasoiaf]

Writing Characters With Believable Military PTSD

I typically write these writing and worldbuilding essays from a dispassionate perspective, offering advice and context to prospective writers from as neutral a point of view as I can manage, with the goal being to present specific pieces of information and broader concepts that can hopefully improve writing and build creators’ confidence to bring their projects to fruition, whether that be writing, tabletop gaming, video game programming, or anything that suits their fancy. While writing this essay though, I struggled to maintain that perspective. Certainly, the importance of the topic to me was a factor, but ultimately, I saw impersonality just as a suboptimal presentation method for something so intensely personal. I do maintain some impartiality particularly in places where historical or academic context is called for, but in other respects I’ve opted for a different approach. Ultimately, this essay is a labor of love for me, love for those who suffer from military PTSD, love for those who love those who suffer from it, and love for writers who want to, in the way that they so choose, help those two other groups out. Thus, this is a different type of essay in certain segments than my usual fare; I hope the essay isn’t an unreadable chimera because of it.

This essay focuses on military-related PTSD. While there are some concepts that translate well into PTSD in the civilian sphere, there are unique elements that do not necessarily fit the mold in both directions, so for someone hoping to write a different form of PTSD, I would recommend finding other resources that could better suit your purposes. I also recommend using more than one source just in general, trauma is personal and so multiple sources can help provide a wide range of experiences to draw upon, which should hopefully improve any creative work.

And as a final introductory note, traumatic experiences are deeply personal. If you are using someone you know as a model for your writing, you owe it to that person to communicate exactly what you are doing and to ask their permission every step of the way. I consider it a request out of politeness to implore any author who uses someone else’s experiences to inform their writing in any capacity, but when it comes to the truly negative experiences in someone’s life, this rises higher from request to demand. You will ask someone before taking a negative experience from their own life and placing it into your creative works, and you will not hide anything about it from them. Receiving it is a great sign of trust. The opposite is a travesty, robbing someone of a piece of themselves and placing it upon display as a grotesque exhibit. And if that sounds ghoulish and macabre, it’s because it is, without hyperbole. Don’t do it.

Why Write PTSD?

What is the purpose of including PTSD in a creative work? There have been plenty of art therapy actions taken by those who suffer PTSD to create something from their condition, which can be as profound for those who do not have it as it is therapeutic for those that do, but why would someone include it in their creative works, and why is some no-name guy on the internet writing an essay offering tips as to how to do it better?

Certainly, one key element is that it’s real, and it happens. If art is to reflect upon reality, PTSD suffered by soldiers is one element of that, so art can reflect it, but what specifically about PTSD, as opposed to any other facet of existence? Author preference certainly plays a factor, but why would someone try to include something that is difficult to understand and difficult to portray? While everyone comes to their own reason, I think that a significant number of people are curious about what exactly goes on in the minds of someone suffering through PTSD, and creative works allow them a way to explore it, much the way fiction can explore scenarios and emotions that are either unlikely or unsafe to explore in reality. If that’s the case, then the purpose of this essay is rather simple, to make the PTSD examination more grounded in reality and thus a better reflection of it. But experiences are unique even if discernable patterns emerge, so in that sense, no essay created by an amateur writer with no psychological experience could be an authoritative take on reality, the nature of which would is far beyond the scope of this essay.

For my own part, I think that well-done creative works involving PTSD is meant to break down the isolation that it can cause in its wake. Veterans suffering may feel that they are alone, that their loved ones cannot understand them and the burden of trying to create that would simply push them away; better instead to have the imperfect bonds that they currently have than risk losing them entirely. For those who are on the outside looking in, isolation lurks there as well, a gulf that seems impossible to breach and possibly intrusive to even try. Creative works that depict PTSD can help create a sense that victims aren’t alone, that there are people that understand and can help without demeaning the sense of self-worth. Of course, another element would be to reduce the amount of poorly-done depictions of PTSD. Some creative works use PTSD as a backstory element, relegating a defining and important element of an individual’s life as an aside, or a minor problem that can be resolved with a good hug and a cry or a few nights with the right person. If a well-done creative work can help create a bridge and break down isolation, a poorly-done one can turn victims off, reinforcing the idea that no one understands and worse, no one cares. For others, it gives a completely altered sense of what PTSD is and what they could do to help, keeping them out, confusing them, or other counter-productive actions. In that sense, all the essay is to help build up those who are doing the heavy lifting. I’m not full of so much hubris as to think this is a profound piece of writing that will help others, but if creators are willing to try and do the hard work of building a bridge, I could at least try to help out and provide a wheelbarrow.

An Abbreviated Look At The Many Faces and Names of PTSD Throughout History

PTSD has been observed repeatedly throughout human history, even when it was poorly understood. This means that explorations of PTSD can be written in settings even if they did not have a distinctly modern understanding of neurology, trauma, or related matters. These historical contexts are also useful for worldbuilding a believable response in fictional settings and scenarios that don’t necessarily have a strict analogue in our own history. By providing this historical context, hopefully I can craft a broad-based sense of believable responses to characters with PTSD at a larger level.

In the time of Rome, it was understood by legionnaires that combat was a difficult endeavor, and so troops were typically on the front lines engaged in combat for short periods of time, to be rotated back for rest while others took their place. It was considered ideal, in these situations, to rotate troops that fought together back so that they could rest together. The immediate lesson is obvious, the Romans believed that it was vital for troops to take time to process what they had done and that was best served with quiet periods of rest not just to allow the adrenaline to dissipate (the "combat high"), but a chance for the mind to wrap itself around what the legionnaire had done. The Romans also recognized that camaraderie between fellow soldiers helped soldiers to cope, and this would be a running theme throughout history (and remains as such today). Soldiers were able to empathize with each other, and help each other through times of difficulty. This was not all sanguine, however, Roman legions depended on their strong formations, and a soldier that did not perform their duty could endanger the unit, and so shame in not fulfilling their duty was another means to keep soldiers in line. The idea of not letting down your fellow soldiers is a persistent refrain in coping with the traumas of war, and throughout history this idea has been used for both pleasant and unpleasant means of keeping soldiers in the fight.

In the Middle Ages, Geoffroi de Charny wrote extensively on the difficulties that knights could experience on the campaign trail in his Book of Chivalry. The book highlights the deprivation that knights suffered, from the bad food and poor sleep to the traumatic experience of combat to being away from family and friends to the loss of valued comrades to combat and infection; each of these is understood as a significant stressor that puts great strain on the mental health of soldiers up to today. De Charny recommended focusing on the knightly oaths of service, the needs of the mission of their liege, and the duty of the knight to serve as methods to help bolster the resolve of struggling knights. The book also mentions seeking counseling and guidance from priests or other confidants to help improve their mental health to see their mission through. This wasn’t universal, however. Some severely traumatized individuals were seen as simple cowards, and punished harshly for their perceived cowardice as antithetical to good virtue and to serve as an example.

World War I saw a sharp rise in the reported incidents of military-related PTSD and new understandings and misunderstandings. The rise in the number of soldiers caused a rise in cases of military PTSD, even though the term itself was not known at the time. Especially in the early phases of the war, many soldiers suffering from PTSD were thought to be malingering, pretending to have symptoms to avoid being sent to the front lines. The term “shell shock” was derived because it was believed that the concussive force of artillery bombardment caused brain damage as it rattled the skull or carbon monoxide fumes would damage the brain as they were inhaled, as a means to explain why soldiers could have physical responses such as slurred speech, lack of response to external stimuli, even nigh-on waking catatonia, despite not being hit by rifle rounds or shrapnel. This would later be replaced by the term “battle fatigue” when it became apparent that artillery bombardment was not a predicative indicator. Particularly as manpower shortages became more prevalent, PTSD-sufferers could be sent to firing squads as a means to cow other troops to not abandon their post. Other less fatal methods of shaming could occur, such as the designation “Lack of Moral Fibre,” an official brand of cowardice, as an attempt to shame the members into remembering their duty. As the war developed, and understanding grew, better methods of treatment were made, with rest and comfort provided to slight cases, strict troop rotations observed to rotate men to and from the front lines, and patients not being told that they were being evacuated for nervous breakdown to avoid cementing that idea in their mind. These lessons would continue into World War II, where the term “combat stress reaction” was adopted. While not always strenuously followed, regular rotations were adopted as standard policy. This was still not universal, plenty of units still relied upon bullying members into maintaining their post despite mental trauma.

The American military promotes a culture of competence and ability, particularly for the enlisted ranks, and that lends itself to the soldier viewing themselves in a starkly different fashion than a civilian. Often, a soldier sees the inability to cope with a traumatic experience as a personal failure stemming from the lack of mental fortitude. Owning up to such a lack of capability is tantamount to accepting that they are an inferior soldier, less capable than their fellows. This idea is commonly discussed, and should not be ignored, but it is far from the only reason. The military also possesses a strong culture of fraternity that obligates “Don’t be a fuckup,” is a powerful motivating force, and it leads plenty of members of the military to ignore traumatic experiences out of the perceived need not to put the burden on their squadmates. While most professional militaries stress that seeking mental health for trauma is not considered a sign of weakness, enlisted know that if they receive mental health counseling, it is entirely likely that someone will have to take their place in the meantime. That could potentially mean that another person, particularly in front-line units, are exposed to danger that they would otherwise not be exposed to, potentially exacerbating guilt if said person gets hurt or killed. This is even true in stateside units, plenty of soldiers don’t report for treatment because it would mean dumping work on their fellows, a negative aspect of unit fraternity. Plenty of veterans also simply never are screened for mental health treatment, and usually this lends to a mentality of “well, no one is asking, so I should be fine.” These taken together combine to a heartbreaking reality, oftentimes a modern veteran that seeks help for mental trauma has often coped silently for years, perhaps self-medicating with alcohol or off-label drug usage, and is typically very far along their own path comparatively. Others simply fall through the cracks, not being screened for mental disorders and so do not believe that anything is wrong; after all, if something was wrong, surely the doctors would notice it, right? The current schedule of deployments, which are duration-based and not mission-based, also make it hard for servicemembers to rationalize their experiences and equate them to the mission; there’s no sense of pairing suffering to objectives the way that de Charnay mentioned could help contextualize the deprivation and loss. These sorts of experiences make the soldier feel adrift, and their suffering pointless, which is discouraging on another level. It is one thing to suffer for a cause, it’s another not to know why, amplifying the feelings of powerlessness and furthering the isolation that they feel.

Pen to Page - The Characters and Their Responses

The presentation of PTSD within a character will depend largely on the point-of-view that the author creates. A character that suffers from PTSD depending on the presence of an internal or external point-of-view, will be vastly different experiences on page. Knowing this is essential, as this will determine how the story itself is presenting the disorder. Neither is necessarily more preferable than the other, and is largely a matter of the type of story being told and the personal preference of the author.

Internal perspectives will follow the character’s response from triggering event to immediate response. This allows the author to present a glimpse into what the character is experiencing. In these circumstances, remember that traumatic flashbacks are merely one of many experiences that an average sufferer of PTSD can endure. In a visual medium, flashbacks are time-effective methods to portray a character reliving portions of a traumatic experience, but other forms of media can have other tools. Traumatic flashbacks are not necessarily a direct reliving of an event from start to finish, individuals may instead feel sudden sharp pains of old injuries, be overwhelmed by still images of traumatic scenes or loud traumatic sounds. These can be linked to triggers that bring up the traumatic incident, such as a similar sight, sound, or smell. These moments of linkage are not necessarily experienced linearly or provide a clear sequence of events from start to finish (memory rarely is unless specifically prompted), and it may be to the author’s advantage to not portray them as such in order to communicate the difficulty in mental parsing that the character may be experiencing. Others might be more intrusive, such as violently deranged nightmares that prevent sleep. The author must try to strike a balance between portraying the experience realistically and portraying it logically that audience members can understand. The important thing about these memories is that they are intrusive, unwelcome, and quite stressful, so using techniques that jar the reader, such as the sudden intrusive image of a torn body, a burning vehicle, or another piece of the traumatic incident helps communicate the disorientation. Don't rely simply on shock therapy, it's not enough just to put viscera on the page. Once it is there, the next steps, how the character reacts, is crucial to a believable response.

When the character experiences something that triggers their PTSD, start to describe the stress response, begin rapidly shortening the sentences to simulate the synaptic activity, express the fight-flight-freeze response as the character reacts, using the tools of dramatic action to heighten tension and portraying the experience as something frightful and distinctly undesirable. The triggering incident brings back the fear, such as a pile of rubble on the side of the road being a potential IED location, or a loud firework recalling the initial moments of an enemy ambush. The trauma intrudes, and the character falls deep into the stress response, and now they react. How does this character react? By taking cover? By attacking the aggressor who so reminds them of the face of their enemy? Once the initial event starts, then the character continues to respond. Do they try to get to safety? Secure the area and eliminate the enemy? Eventually, the character likely recognizes their response is inappropriate. It wasn’t a gunshot, it was a car backfiring, the smell of copper isn’t the sight of a blown-apart comrade and the rank odor of blood, it’s just a jug of musty pennies. This fear will lead to control mechanisms where the victim realizes that their response is irrational. Frequently, the fear is still there, and it still struggles with control. This could heighten a feeling a powerlessness in the character as they try and fail to put the fear under control: "Yes, I know this isn’t real and there’s nothing to be afraid of, but I’m still shaking and I am still afraid!" It’s a horrifying logical track, a fear that the victim isn’t even in control of their thoughts - the one place that they should have control - and that they might always be this way. There’s no safety since even their thoughts aren’t safe. Despair might also follow, as the victim frantically asserts to regain control. Usually with time, the fear starts to lessen as the logical centers of the brain regain control, and the fear diminishes. Some times, the victim can't even really recall the exact crippling sense of fear when attempting to recall it, only that they were afraid and that it was deeply scary and awful, but the notion that it happened remains in their mind.

Control mechanisms are also important to developing a believable PTSD victim. Most sufferers dread the PTSD response and so actively avoid objects or situations that could potentially trigger. Someone who may have had to escape from a helicopter falling into the ocean may not like to be immersed in water. Someone who was hit by a hidden IED may swerve to avoid suspicious piles in the road. Someone buried under a collapsing ceiling may become claustrophobic. Thus, many characters with PTSD will be hypervigilant almost to the point of exhaustion, avoiding setting off the undesired response. This hypervigilance is mentally taxing; the character begins to become sluggish mentally as all their energy is squeezed out, leaving them struggling for even the simplest of rational thoughts. This mental fog can be translated onto the page in dramatic effect by adding paragraph length to even simple actions, bringing the reader along into the fog, laboriously seeing the character move to perform simple actions. Then, mix in a loss of a sense of purpose. They’re adrift, not exactly sure what they’re doing and barely aware of what’s happening, although they are thinking and functioning. In the character’s daily life, they are living their life using maximum effort to avoid triggering responses; this is another aspect of control that the character can use as an attempt to claw back some semblance of power in their own lives. Even control methods that aren’t necessarily healthy such as drinking themselves to pass out every night or abusing sleeping pills in an attempt to sleep due to their nightmares, are ways to attempt to regain a sense of normalcy and function. Don’t condescend to these characters and make them pathetic, that’s just another layer of cruelty, but showing the unhealthy coping mechanisms can demonstrate the difficulty that PTSD victims are feeling. Combined with an external perspective, the author can show the damage that these unhealthy actions are doing without casting the character as weak for not taking a different path.

External perspectives focus on the other characters and how they observe and react to the individual in question. Since the internal thought process of the character is not known, sudden reactions to an unknown trigger can be quite jarring for characters unaware, which can mirror real-life experiences that individuals can have with PTSD-sufferers. In these types of stories, the character’s reaction to the victim is paramount. PTSD in real life often evokes feelings of helplessness in loved ones when they simply cannot act to help, can evoke confusion, or anger and resentment. These reactions are powerful emotions with the ability to drive character work, and so external perspectives can be useful for telling a story about what it is like for loved ones who suffer in their own fashion. External perspectives can be used not just in describing triggering episodes, but in exploring how the character established coping mechanisms and how their loved ones react to them. Some mechanisms are distinctly unhealthy, such as alcohol or prescription drug abuse, complete withdrawal, or a refusal to drive vehicles, and these create stress and a feeling of helplessness in characters or can impel them to try and take action. Others can be healthy, and a moment of inspiration and joy for an external perspective could be sharing in that mechanism, demonstrating empathy and understanding which evokes strong pathos, and hopefully to friends of those who suffer from PTSD, a feeling that they too, are not alone.

As the character progresses, successes and failures can often be one of the most realistic and most important things to include within the work, since those consumers who have PTSD will see parts of themselves in the characters, which can build empathy and cut down on the feelings of isolation that many victims of PTSD feel. A character could, over the course of the story, begin weaning themselves off of their control mechanisms, have the feelings of panic subside as their logical sides more quickly assert control, replace unhealthy coping mechanisms with healthier ones, or other elements of character progression and growth. Contrarily, a character making progress could, after experiencing significant but unrelated stressors, backslide either into unhealthy coping mechanisms or be blindsided by another attack. This is a powerful fear for the victim, since it can cause them to think ‘all my progress, all my effort, and I am not free!’ This is often a great fear for PTSD users (people with depression often have the same feeling) that find methods of coping are no longer as effective, and the struggle is perceived as one that they’re ultimately doomed to failure. This feeling of inevitable failure can lead to self-harm and suicide as their avenue of success seems to burn to ash right as it was in their hands. More than one soldier suffering from PTSD has ended up concluding: “Fuck it, I can’t live like this,” as horrible as that is. Don’t be afraid to include setbacks and backsliding, those happen in reality, and can be one of the most isolating fears in their lives; if the goal of portraying PTSD accurately is to help remove that feeling of isolation, then content creators must not avoid these experiences. Success as well as failure are essential to PTSD in characters in stories, these elements moreso than any other, I believe, will transcend the medium and form a connection, fulfilling the objective we set out to include in the beginning paragraphs.

Coming Back to the Beginning

It might be counterintuitive at first glance to say “including military PTSD will probably mean it will be a long journey full of discouraging story beats that might make readers depressed,” because that’s definitely going to discourage some readers to do that. I don’t see it that way, though. The people that want to do it should go in knowing it’s going to be hard, and let that strengthen their resolve, and put the best creation they can forward. The opposite is also true. Not every prospective author has to want to include any number of difficult subjects in their works, and that’s perfectly fine. Content creators must be free to shape the craft that they so desire without the need to be obligated to tackle every difficult issue, and so no content creator should be thought of as lesser or inferior because they opt not to include it in their works. I think that’s honestly stronger than handling an important topic poorly, or even worse, frivolously. Neither should anyone think that a content creator not including PTSD in their works means that they don’t care about those who suffer from it or for those who care about them or who simply don’t care about the subject in general. That’s just a terrible way to treat someone, and in the end, this entire excursion was about the opposite

Ultimately, this essay is a chance not only to help improve creative works involving PTSD, but to reflect on the creative process. Those who still want to proceed, by all means, do so. Hopefully this essay will help you create something that can reach someone. If every piece of work that helps portray PTSD can reach someone somewhere and make things easier, even if ever so little, well then, that’s what it’s really all about.

Hoping everyone has a peaceful Memorial Day. Be good to each to other.

SLAL

[parvulous-writings]

Jesse McCree // SFW  alphabet

​Summary: A sfw A-Z for Jesse McCree, from Overwatch! 

Warnings: use of tobacco/smoking, brief mention of death.

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! 

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

Jesse is pretty affectionate, especially when the pair of you are alone. One armed hugs, hair ruffles and head pats are his absolute favourite way to show you affection. On occasion giving you a kiss on the cheek when in public, and his kisses goodbye are always on the lips. Always. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?) 

McCree is quite often the sassy joker of a friend group, always pitching in a one-liner or two during even the most casual of conversations. He’s also quite the charmer, shamelessly flirting with you and occasionally others when the moment suits it. Though he will not hesitate to jump to your defense should someone else get too snarky with you. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) 

Though he would never blurt out the fact, he loves cuddles. Curling up with you in a cosy corner, whether it be a bed or a cushioned seat, it’s one of his favourite things, he can’t deny it. He cuddles you by drawing you as close as he can so he can warm your body with his own, wrapping his arms firmly around you like a child with their favourite stuffie. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?) 

He isn’t all that fussed on settling down in any one place, so long as he can stay by you, I’d wager he’d be pretty content. He’s an alright cook, not the best but not the worst either. Cleaning, the man is far from mastering that skill (he leaves his clothes everywhere unless they’re going in the wash). 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 

He’d be straightforward about it. Something along the lines of;  “Look, I care for ya, sugar, really I do... But I think it’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?) 

If you asked him, he’d probably just brush it all off with a smile. If he was honest though- commitment like engagement or marriage intimidated him a little bit. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, it was more that he’s the kind of man to live more in the moment than to plan ahead. 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

He’s fairly gentle, when he knows he needs to be. Other than that, he’s average on that kind of thing- a life in Deadlock Grange will do that to a man. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

Jesse is usually indifferent to hugs. Except goodbye hugs, he’ll never miss out on those, not in a million years. He knows how sporadic and random Death can be in life. 

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

He doesn’t say it particularly quickly, but once he actually acknowledges his feelings for you, he’ll say it pretty often. Before you both go to sleep, before you go on a mission, etc. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

McCree does tend to get jealous- usually he tries to hide it, figuring it’s an undesirable trait of his that you wouldn’t be too fond of. There are other times, however, when it does manage to get past his filter. He gets pretty agitated when jealous, and kind of possessive as well. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

It depends on the situation. If you’re out in public, it’s usually a quick peck, on the cheek or chastely on the lips. If you’re alone, they last for a lot longer, and are much, much warmer, full of the love he often restrains from showing in front of others. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

He’s more like an uncle figure than a father figure. He’s fun, and is relatively good with kids, but shouldn’t really be a prolonged role model for them. His role seems admirable, but it’s very morally grey, and should really only be tackled when the children are mature. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Slow, and sweet. Jesse usually lays in, even when he has things to do. He especially likes cuddling up to you when he’s still half asleep. “Best damn feelin’ in the world.” 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Kind of like the mornings spent with him. Slow, quiet, and endearing. He likes just appreciating time with you, basking in your presence and showing you all the adoration you deserve. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

Often late at night, when he’s tired and you’re both alone. It’s when his walls fall down, his exhaustion making them crumble. He also thinks that because you’re also probably tired, you’ll hardly remember his low, quiet voice spilling stories about his demons. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

This depends on how much sleep he’s gotten, or how stressed he’s been recently. If he’s gotten enough sleep and life has been easy on him, he’s like a lazy river- but then if he’s deprived of sleep and work has piled onto him, he’s more like the blazing fires of hell. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers a fair amount. Not everything- he’d say that’s impossible. But a reasonable amount. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

When the two of you went to the Diner along Route 66. Though he personally doesn’t always like the place, the jokes you made that day still make him chuckle. You also fed him some apple pie and that’s something he’ll never let go of. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Rather protective. He gives you all the info and training you need- should you not know anything already- to defend yourself, but he is very much aware that he shouldn’t be too overbearing or try to fight every battle for you. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

Considering Jesse is more often than not a very laid back man, he puts in a good amount of effort. He remembers almost every important date for the pair of you- which is a little unusual in every other aspect of his life- and often makes time specifically for you. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

He smokes. A lot. As in a lot a lot. He’s tried once or twice to give up, but he just can’t seem to.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

McCree isn’t vain per se, but he is certainly conscious of his appearance. He keeps as well groomed as he can between missions, but he knows he doesn’t always look the most pristine of men. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He’d feel lonely. Really lonely. The same feeling he feels on solo scouting missions. He doesn’t like being away from you for too long. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

This man shares every poncho/scarf he owns with you. Every single one. His favourite is the red one, he loves seeing you in it, but he thinks that the royal blue one he has looks best on you. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

McCree is a lot of things, but a fussy man is not one of them.  Except when it comes to the coffee in Deadlock Grange. He hates it. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

This man sleeps like a rock. Almost nothing wakes him. Period. You could scream at him, flash a bright light in his face, this man isn’t waking from external stimuli. The only thing that wakes him is some of the nightmares he gets. 

[andypantsx3]

cover shot | 4 | bakugou x reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Fem Reader

length: 2.6k words / 4th of 6 chapters

summary: For years, you’ve been the only assistant in the business equipped to handle foul-tempered supermodel Katsuki Bakugou. That is, until he catches on to your weak point.

tags/warnings: model/celebrity AU, praise kink, aged up characters, eventual smut, AFAB & fem pronoun reader, implied lighter-skinned reader**

**note: In retrospect, this work is one of my least inclusive. A large portion of the plot depends on the reader’s blush being visible on her skin. I just wanted to make this clear to anyone looking to read this fic, and apologize to any potential readers that this excludes. Going forward, I will endeavor to do better! 

Catsuki Bakugou @catsukicuteski Here’s Catsuki on the cover of Septem-purr’s Vogue: http://bit.ly/8oKZ5jf

ehra [no minors/no bakugou antis] @ehra_morta replying to @catsukicuteski I can’t decide who’s more handsome.

Yuki Nakamura @ladybird_123 replying to @catsukicuteski What did you guys think of Bakugou retweeting Catsuki the other day?? It’s so cute he’s a fan!

凸 ( ͡❛ ��ʖ ͡❛)凸 @machinodorufin replying to @ladybird_123 and @catsukicuteski omg what if they did a shoot together can yOU IMAGINE

The rest of the plane ride was mercifully quiet.

You’d returned to your seat after a woman turned up at the washroom, actually needing to use it, and Bakugou had watched with no small amount of relish as you awkwardly climbed over his long legs again, almost tripping and planting yourself straight in his lap. You’d saved yourself with a hand on your armrest, though, and refused to make eye contact with him after that.

You could feel the satisfaction radiating from him anyway.

You’d been too distracted and nervous to do anything like take the long nap you’d planned and you cycled tirelessly between your novel, answering emails on your phone, and a slew of random movies on demand that you couldn’t get into. Bakugou, for his part, dozed easily next to you, one leg outstretched to press against yours. You didn’t dare move for fear of waking him.

He woke easily enough when the plane landed and followed you out into the terminal, a warm shadow at your back. Your whole body seemed newly aware of him, every breath he took sharp in your ears, every minute movement drawing the focus of your eye.

Bakugou, however, seemed fairly unaffected. He only started acting weird again when you made your way into the car that would take you to your hotel.

“Hey, stop at the nearest coffee shop,” you heard him tell the driver as you climbed in beside him, yawning.

You looked at him in question. Coffee was another thing he didn’t allow himself.

“You didn’t sleep on the plane, right?” he asked shortly.

You gaped at him. He was asking to detour for you?

He smirked at your shell shocked reaction and reached over you, pulling the seat belt over your chest and buckling you in himself. You were so stunned you didn’t even make a move to stop him.

“Figured you’re gonna need something to deal with eyelashes,” he said as the car pulled away from the airport.

It took you a minute to realize who he was talking about. “You mean Bibimi?”

He grunted. “The fucking handsy witch.”

You let out a shocked laugh. You’d known he’d been uncomfortable with her at various shoots over the years, but he’d never talked to you about it, even to engage in his favorite pastime of complaining. It was gratifying to hear your suspicions confirmed.

“It sounds more like you need to get yourself something to deal with her,” you said, still wondering why in the world he thought you would need to be caffeinated to handle an interaction with her. “Maybe a xanax.”

He stretched languorously and your eyes were drawn to the rise of his well-defined pecs under his tee shirt, the flex of muscle in his tight jeans. “Like I don’t know why that damn harpy keeps shoving assistant resumes at me. I know she has it out for you.”

Your eyebrows went up. You hadn’t realized he’d been paying attention. “You knew?” you asked, unable to help the surprise in your tone. “Why didn’t you ever follow up on any of them, then? I thought you were just ignoring her to ignore her.”

He smirked wickedly. “Like any of those extras could handle me.”

Your brain stopped short, not sure if the words were meant to be a compliment or if they truly carried the implication that it sounded like they did. Or worse, if he meant both.

Also, was he showing self awareness?

Bakugou seemed to bask in your confusion, then moved to get out of the car when the driver pulled into the requested coffee shop. He gestured for you to stay inside, pulling his baseball cap back over his untidy hair and throwing on a pair of sunglasses. When he came back out, he was bearing an iced americano, black, and it dawned on you that he hadn’t asked how you liked it. He had just known.

“Aren’t I supposed to be running your errands?” you asked as he slid back into the car, handing it over.

“What was that earlier about saying thank you?” he demanded, and you flushed. He had you there.

“Thanks, Bakugou,” you allowed.

That seemed to satisfy him, and he turned to the window as the car pulled back onto the main road. He kept up a stream of complaints about Bibimi the entire way, making sure to insult seemingly every member of her staff as well, though it took you several tries to connect all the names he called them -- Nose, Ugly, and Harpy Number Two -- with their actual names.

You found yourself laughing under your breath when you made the connections. All of Bibimi’s staff was pretty unpleasant, though they played the game well enough. They had to, in order to keep Bibimi’s temper a secret. It sounded like Bakugou had all of their numbers, though.

The car deposited you at the front of your hotel, and you perked up at the sight of a huge infinity pool just beyond the front office, overlooking the beach. A refreshing dip would be so appreciated after what was undoubtedly going to be a long afternoon with Bibimi today and all day tomorrow.

You handled check in and helped the driver separate your bags with the bellhop, then climbed back into the car. It was nearing late afternoon and Bakugou still needed to show up on location for tomorrow’s shoot for camera testing and a final fitting. You texted the production team assistant and Fumika--Bibimi’s assistant who Bakugou had called Harpy Number Two--to let them know you were close.

The driver steered you along an access road circumnavigating the bay, finally stopping at a path that led onto a private beach. You could see the production crew a couple hundred meters out, an array of cameras and lighting screens already fanned out over a stretch of pale sand overhung with palm trees, looking onto a small outcropping of rock. The water here was crystalline blue, soft waves gently lapping at the shore, and you were overcome with the urge to roll up your jeans and wade in.

You followed Bakugou’s broad back as he led the way over to the crew, bomber jacket abandoned in the hot sun in favor of the white tee he’d worn underneath. One of Ground Zero’s creative directors came trotting over, a stylist tailing her, to take Bakugou immediately into wardrobe while you were left to greet everyone.

“Hi Fumika,” you said, setting your bag down next to the assistant and settling down onto the soft sand at her side. She was keeping a close eye on Bibimi, who was already down at the water, several photography directors swarming around her. You shrugged off your own jacket and stretched in the sunshine.

Fumika gave you a cursory once over. “Hello,” she said. She didn’t bother to follow up with any polite conversation so you asked a couple polite questions of your own, about her flight yesterday and had she had a chance to try the pool at the hotel? She gave cursory answers at best, rustling around in her bag mostly for something to keep her attention off of you, and you caught sight of what appeared to be a stack of several resumes as she shuffled the contents around.

You stifled a laugh. It looked like Bibimi was still trying, three years in.

After a few minutes of being fussed over by the stylist, Bakugou finally stalked out on set in a couple pieces of the Ground Zero ready to wears, a paramilitary jacket in a light fabric that lay open over his bare chest, and board shorts with a strange, asymmetrical waist that curved up the planes of his toned stomach.

Your face suddenly went hot with the memory of all of that pressed up against you in the tiny plane washroom. Had that only been a few hours ago? Had that even happened at all or had you dreamed the whole thing?

You groped around for a distraction, settling for toeing off your shoes and stretching out further in the warm sand, working through the rest of your iced coffee. You were mostly unnecessary at this point, unless Bakugou needed you to fetch something for him or anyone called with a business inquiry, so you could relax a little bit.

You let the soft breeze wash over you like a warm wave, tangling in your hair, and watched as Bibimi perked up at the sight of Bakugou crossing over the sand to where she stood with the camera crew. You pushed down another laugh when she, predictably, started fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Fumika eyed you with suspicion anyway. “Something funny?”

You turned to her, schooling your features. “No. Just happy to be off the plane.”

She clicked her tongue dismissively, clearly not believing a word. “He’ll fall for her, you know."

You raised an eyebrow.

"They’d be the perfect couple," Fumika explained, "She’s already the brand ambassador for his parents’ company and they’ve worked together closely for years.”

You thought back to how Bakugou had talked about Bibimi in the car. That might be so, but fat chance Bibimi would succeed. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Bakugou? You’ve met him, right? I don’t think he’s capable of falling for anyone.”

Fumika laughed. “Please, don’t be jealous. I know you’ve somehow managed to keep your little claws in him for years, but it won’t last forever. He’s going to date sooner or later, and when he does, it will be Bibimi.”

Well that sounded ominous. Was she going to coerce him at knifepoint? “Best wishes to both of them, then.”

Fumika scoffed and went back to her phone. “You won’t be around much longer after that.”

You really had to hand it to Bibimi’s team. They had her back, at least.

“Uh, okay,” you uttered. What did someone say when they were flagrantly threatened like that? “Thanks for the warning, I guess.”

Not content to sit at Fumika’s side anymore, you got to your feet and wandered a little ways down the beach to dip your toes in the warm water, rolling up your jeans and wading in over near the props table, well out of shot of the camera. The temperature was so pleasant, and the sound of gentle splashing where the waves murmured against the shore soothed you, lulling you back into a peaceful mindset.

You kept a vague eye on Bakugou and Bibimi, watching to make sure you weren’t needed for anything. The camera crew seemed to work quickly, though, cycling through all the shots they wanted to take tomorrow, marking off all their settings and the proper positioning. Bakugou also quickly rotated through the wardrobe, the stylists only seeming to find one or two touch ups they’d need to make overnight, and before you knew it, things were wrapping up, just as the sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon.

You came wading back over as you saw Bakugou finishing up, stepping back onto the warm sand to gather up your bag and shoes before he got impatient.

Bibimi was already standing with Fumika when you made it back to your bag, and she gave you a repulsed look, like you were something foul she’d just stepped in.

“Hi, Bibimi,” you said, pulling your bag onto your shoulder and grabbing your shoes to pull on further down the beach, out of reach of Bibimi and her team. “Good to see you.”

She sniffed haughtily. “Is it?”

You suppressed an eye roll. “How have you been? How was the flight yesterday?”

She said something in return but you didn’t hear it, suddenly surprised by a hefty arm settling over your shoulder. You were pulled into a warm chest, and a voice rumbled in your ear. “Let’s go, cheeks.”

You looked up at Bakugou, surprised. You felt a blush bloom over the bridge of your nose at his proximity. “Uh, sure.”

Bibimi stared, her long lashes fluttering in perplexity. Last time she’d seen you, Bakugou had no doubt been deep up your ass, cussing you out and yelling across set at you. You guessed his weird about-face was as shocking to her as it was to you.

You tried to duck out from under his arm, embarrassed, but he held tight. His blood red gaze was boring directly over the top of your head into Bibimi’s face and you wondered what kind of weird supermodel posturing was going on right now. After a long moment, he gave you a light shove forward.

“Later,” he uttered, steering you back across the sand.

“Um, see you guys tomorrow,” you said as Bakugou directed you toward the idling line of cars waiting to collect the production team. You dusted the sand off the bottom of your feet before climbing into one, and the car taxied you back to the hotel.

When you got there, Bakugou steered you to the adjoining restaurant instead of into the hotel, complaining about how hungry he was through a mouthful of swears. The hostess found you a small table at a window, and the two of you settled in to eat.

Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Bakugou bitched the whole time about Bibimi and her peons, and you thought with some surprise that his attitude and ire were kind of fun when they weren’t directed at you. He was almost friendly--as close as someone like Bakugou could be, anyway--and you found yourself relaxing a little, enjoying yourself and making something frighteningly close to real conversation with him.

It was only after dinner that Bakugou chose to strike again.

You both walked back to the hotel along the beachfront, and he made a weird fuss about escorting you back to your room, letting loose a stream of colorful invectives at you when you tried to insist you were fine. You gave up and let him march you over to your room, pausing when he continued to linger as you made to unlock your door.

“What?” you looked up at him, taking a surprised step back when he was suddenly much closer than you had expected. He guided you back against your door with a large hand on your hip, his eyes burning like torches.

Then his mouth was on yours again, and you lost all sense of what was happening or where you were.

Your sense of disorientation was magnified when you felt your feet leave the ground, and you vaguely registered hands under your thighs and a hard body filling the space in between, pressing you back into the wood of your door with all of his weight. A feverish trail of heat bloomed down your body at the abrupt show of strength, and you threw your arms around Bakugou’s neck, wrapping your legs more firmly around his hips to draw him even closer.

He swore into your mouth and pressed you harder into the door, licking into your mouth with abandon. You made a mortifying squeaking noise and you felt him smirk against your lips, before he moved down your neck to find the spot he’d found on the plane, sucking another mark into the skin there with slow diligence. You let out a louder moan at that.

“Sound so fucking gorgeous, cheeks,” he rasped against the skin of your neck, working back up to bite under your ear. You jolted, clenching your thighs around him harder. “You like that?”

“Fuck--yes,” you managed, leaning in to mouth at the same spot on him. He groaned and ground his hips into yours, and you gasped at the feel of him hard against your core. You gave a few helpless bucks of your hips, fingers tangling in his blonde hair for something to hold on to.

“Just like that, angel,” he said, and he let go of one thigh to drag his fingers against you where you wanted him most, yanking down the zipper of your jeans and getting a hand inside. You let your head fall back against the wall when he curled two fingers inside of you, his thumb brushing that sensitive bundle of nerves. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, dragging him back for a kiss, working your hips against him a little desperately. It was absurd how turned on you were, letting Katsuki Bakugou finger you in the hallway where anyone could see you, but you didn’t even care. He felt so good against you, his fingers so fucking talented and incredible inside you, and it was mere minutes before you were gasping into his mouth, squirming wildly against his hand.

He kissed you as he worked you through it, then lowered you slowly back to your feet. You twitched as your sensitive chest dragged over his as you were let back down.

He smirked down at the sight of you so debauched against your own door. “You’re so fucking hot, cheeks. So good for me.”

You didn’t know how it was possible, but you felt yourself flush even more deeply. A satisfied grin pulled at the corner of his mouth and he leaned in to press one more kiss against your mouth. “See you tomorrow, nerd.”

Then, as he had on the plane, he disappeared down the hall, and you were left to stare after his back in bewilderment.

Thoughts slowly began to trickle back into your brain, magnifying your confusion. You weren’t sure how you had ended up making out with Bakugou twice in one day after three years of nothing but hostility, never mind how he had been weirdly pleasant and thoughtful today. You weren’t even sure what his motivation was here -- you’d thought it was to mess with you, this morning, but that was before he kissed all the thoughts straight out of your brain and got you off against your door. The kissing and heavy petting seemed to be way out of left field if the plan had been to just mess with you.

Whatever it was he was doing, he was the only person who knew.

As you turned to finally unlock your door and let yourself inside, you wondered how long it would be until you found out.

[escher-room-with-a-view]

elaborating on my autism headcanons!!

- sarah -

her special interests are usually between one and three. once she develops a special interest, it stays with her for years; in fact, some of her interests, like reading and writing, have been with her for as long as she can remember. her other special interests are theatre and arts and crafts; the latter is quite a broad category, but it includes things like sewing, felting, embroidery, watercolor painting, book binding, and making collages. sarah delves further into her interests the more they’re encouraged, but she also uses them as coping mechanisms to feel better about or distract herself from the real world around her. in the cases of acting and crafts, she uses these to express how she feels, whereas reading and writing are used more as forms of escapism. her favorite genre of literature is fantasy, though she doesn’t mind any particular fantasy subgenres and is willing to broaden her knowledge of the genre by reading most of them. meanwhile, she isn’t anywhere near as selective when it comes to theatre. so long as there’s a soundtrack and cast that resonates with her, she doesn’t care if it’s opera or ballet, tragedy or comedy, contemporary or dating back thousands of years. indeed, she doesn’t ever feel like her knowledge of theatre is complete—and while it feels unattainable, she’d like to develop at least a cursory knowledge of every play there is.

sarah stims by talking to herself, chewing on her lips or hair, pacing, doing needlework, doodling, and absentmindedly writing. she also has echolalia, repeating the same word or phrase to herself either out loud or in her head; certain phrases can get stuck in her head for weeks on end. she’s rather quiet when she talks to herself—in fact, most of the time, she just whispers or mutters. furthermore, when pacing, she walks in circles or back and forth. she doesn’t use stim toys very much because they don’t appeal to her, though she does like the idea of making her own stim toys and other objects, such as slime or reversibles.

her relationship with routine is complicated. on the one hand, she doesn’t take change well and has difficulty adapting to new situations, especially those that are unfamiliar and stressful. this means that, to some extent, she prefers it when things stay the same. however, this is more of a general status quo sort of sameness that she likes to maintain. on a smaller level, she’s easily bored by sameness and likes it when at least one novel or interesting thing happens each day. for instance, if sarah has gone to the same school her entire life, she’s going to be upset—even devastated—if circumstances force her to change schools without any sort of preparation or warning. however, if her commute to the school every day is identical, she’ll grow bored of it easily and may one day consider taking a different path there just to see what happens.

sarah tends to struggle with eye contact and, on the rare occasions that she wants to maintain it, has to force herself to do so. it makes her immensely uncomfortable to look someone in the eye for an extended period of time. while irene sometimes mistakes this for her not listening, sarah is trying to explain that it’s not something within her control.

she is hyposensitive to (and indeed fascinated with) colors and lights. however, loud noises bother her and can be painful for her. sarah also prefers not to be touched unless she initiates the contact first. being touched without her permission startles her and makes her immensely uncomfortable, as does being surrounded or cornered; all of these can easily overwhelm her in the right circumstances. she hates haunted houses for this exact reason. her hyposensitivity also extends to texture and physical sensations, albeit not in the same way; rather than being obsessed with or actively seeking out sensations and textures, sarah is so hyposensitive to both of them that she sometimes doesn’t even notice sensory input unless it’s excruciatingly painful or needs constant adjusting. her senses of taste and smell are neither above nor below what’s considered average, though she has a preference for sweets, white meat, and anything crunchy. 

something else that she and jareth have in common is the fact that their living spaces, specifically their rooms, both have to be organized in a very specific way. any alterations in this organization are bothersome and overwhelming to the both of them; this includes rearranging or removing objects, changing the location of the room entirely, or changes in things like how much light or air the room receives. 

- jareth -

he tends to have a lot of special interests at a time, and they change often. his current ones are architecture, illusions, astronomy, fashion, humans/anthropology/sociology, various pseudosciences, and surrealist art. however, in the past he’s been interested in ornithology, geology, romanticism in art and literature, the labyrinth’s prehistory, wordplay and rhetorical/literary devices, cats, different types of governments, letter writing, collecting trinkets and antiques, choreography, and many, many more. living for such a long time has provided him with the opportunity to both develop and engage in a wide variety of passions. in fact, some of these past special interests still remain with him today and simply aren’t considered his “main” ones anymore because they’re not as strong.

his favorite pseudosciences are graphology, phrenology, and astrology. he also likes to try and determine the future via methods like alectromancy, astromancy, augury, scrying, and lithomancy.

he stims using crystals/via contact juggling. this is usually when he’s understimulated, absentminded, or just needs something to occupy himself with. it’s also enjoyable to him. he has other ways of stimming, though, many of which are meant to self-soothe. for instance, feeling nervous or excited might drive him to shake one leg or hand; he also feels compelled to chew on things in such instances. when overwhelmed, he scratches his arms as one would if they had an itch. jareth is trying to stop doing this and is thus looking for alternatives. he views stim toys as some of humanity’s greatest inventions. if he lived aboveground, i imagine he’d have different versions of the same stim toys for different purposes: neutral colors when he needs to prevent overstimulation, bright colors when he’s just stimming because it makes him happy.

he doesn’t mind loud noises, but he is sensitive to bright lights and colors. in fact, he’s so nonchalant toward noise that, when he listens to music, he likes for it to be as loud as possible. in his mind, good music is never quite loud enough. there are certain textures and tastes he doesn’t like, which drives him to be very selective with what he wears and what he eats. with regards to clothing, he likes silk and leather but can’t stand wool, denim, anything baggy or distressed, or velvet. because he conducts magic through his hands, he has sensitive palms; his gloves allow him to touch things without being bothered by them, while also allowing him to use magic undeterred. he’s especially sensitive around food, preferring things that are bland or savory and refusing to eat anything with a consistency that’s too soft. for instance, he finds eggs revolting in most forms.

without a routine, jareth tends to become dejected or burnt out. unfortunately, though, his frequent executive dysfunction makes it difficult for him to plan out and adhere to routines without frequent reminders—which, when they come in the form of goblins, usually annoy him more than anything else. this is why he hasn’t had a proper schedule in years. it’s a bit of a vicious cycle; his unhappiness has led to a lack of motivation, and his difficulty creating something he can stick to has made him even more unhappy. he works best with clear, written instructions that are placed where he can see them. he especially needs specific times to eat and sleep; without them, irritability and physical discomfort set in. in the event that he does have a routine, changes that might seem small to others are often nerve-racking to him.

though he sometimes uses eye contact and close proximity to others to intimidate, he genuinely feels uncomfortable without eye contact and has difficulty remembering to mind others’ personal space most of the time. he can be quite touchy-feely when he cares about someone—even platonically—and isn’t afraid of showing it, but he doesn’t really know when or if to back off unless explicitly told to.

- didymus -

when it comes to special interests, he and sarah have a lot in common. they both love drama and literature; however, didymus has a particular interest in folklore, both that of humans and that of the labyrinth. he only has two special interests: literature (including plays) and history. both of these influenced his desire to become a knight and continue to influence his behavior, as he seeks to emulate the idea of a noble and valiant knight to a T. he has some difficulty responding appropriately to or understanding various social cues. as a result, he spends most of his nights and some of his mornings scripting out how his day is going to go: how he’s going to speak to other people, how they might respond to him, and how he’s going to respond to their responses. whenever didymus makes a new friend, he puts effort into studying their mannerisms and personality so he can adequately pinpoint how they might behave toward him and thus figure out how he’s going to interact with them. furthermore, he speaks and acts like a gallant knight from a fairytale or play because of his constant reading. his consumption of literature provides him with a consistent model of behavior that’s bound by a set of rules, unlike the behavior of people in the real world—which can often be unpredictable, and whose rules are less coherent. as a result, didymus believes that emulating the kinds of characters he admires will make others admire him in turn, and make him easier to understand. 

his favorite earth authors are william shakespeare, miguel de cervantes, and alexandre dumas. he is also especially fond of arthurian legend and various human mythologies, such as norse, celtic, and japanese.

one of his favorite ways to stim is by chasing or wagging his tail. he also stims by absentmindedly practicing swordfighting moves with his cane, scratching behind his ear with a hind paw, pacing, and talking to himself. pacing is the only one out of all of these that doesn’t lift his spirits; rather, he does it when he’s thinking because it helps his ideas flow. didymus is most inclined to chase his tail or scratch his ears when he’s bored, practice his parries when excited, and talk to himself when he’s overwhelmed. in the last case, this is often combined with pacing; together, both stims provide a good release for emotions he has difficulty expressing otherwise. when didymus talks to himself, he is unlike sarah in that he doesn’t do so quietly. his volume remains the same as it usually is in a conversation; when he grows passionate, it raises accordingly. sarah introduced him to stim toys; his favorite ones are the ones that make noise, whether they click or woosh or do something else. he also uses dog toys as substitutes and enjoys the ones that squeak, though he has to keep his own set somewhere where ambrosius won’t find it.

his strongest sense by far is his sense of smell; it isn’t necessarily a lot of scents at once that can be upsetting for him, but rather scents that he finds unpleasant. these include sharp or chemical smells such as vinegar, ammonia, spices, perfume, citrus, alcohol, cleaning products, and herbs. aside from these, there aren’t any smells he can confidently say he doesn’t like. he also has hypersensitive hearing and prefers soft classical music, hymns and chants, or music that dates back thousands of years. he hates the sound of bells chiming, loud drums, or thunder; the last of these especially bothers him, though he would never admit it. he was once bothered by the sound of metal objects clanging together when he was a kit, but he appears to have outgrown that in particular. he has poor color vision, as do most canines, so bright colors don’t affect him at all. he finds flashing lights mildly frightening in some cases and annoying in others.

to didymus, routine is the thief of joy. he craves adventure every day and hates when things are the exact same; even having to do the same task in the same way as he did the day before, for instance, is enough to bore him out of his skull. as a result, he likes to mix up how he does things by placing his daily activities in different orders, doing them with his friends, or replacing some activities with others entirely. for instance, he, hoggle, and ludo take turns with household chores—not only so that they can share responsibilities, but so that didymus can have time to go off and pursue his knightly dreams. much of the time, his friends are willing to accompany him on his adventures so long as he’s able to keep them safe—and so long as they can be home by dinner.

he doesn’t really like eye contact, but he tries to maintain it because he thinks doing so is respectful. he does see one perk to his small stature; he’s too short to meet eyes with most people, so his lack of eye contact usually isn’t judged. it wouldn’t be either way because almost everyone in the labyrinth either is ND or knows someone who is ND, but he really does want to maintain eye contact because the books he reads make him think that it’s the proper thing to do. his friends are trying to convince him that he doesn’t need to make eye contact if it makes him uncomfortable; however, because he seems to believe that it’s a rule, he has difficulty convincing himself not to follow it. in fact, didymus is very much inclined to follow the rules that are provided to him and becomes anxious when encouraged or required to break them. without clear rules, the world becomes nonsensical and unpredictable—and therefore upsetting—to him. it was his idea to propose a set of rules for his friends’ home; they accepted and have worked together to write them down so that guests know how to behave.

he gets along really well with the wiseman; despite his typical impatience, didymus is one of few people who actually have the patience to listen to the wiseman. in fact, didymus isn’t just patient with him; his ramblings actively intrigue didymus, and whenever he has the opportunity he makes his contributions as big as he possibly can. didymus really appreciates it when his friends let him infodump, and he figures it’s only fair that he should let others do the same. in fact, didymus also places a lot of value on fairness; it’s the whole reason he opposes jareth in the first place.

[thetravelerwrites]

Henry (Part 2) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Naga, Amphiptere, Friends to Lovers, Best Friends to Lovers, Demisexual, Graysexual, Content Warnings: Cam Worker, Cam Model, Sex Worker Words: 4467

The reader breaks a rule and meets Henry’s family, where awkward questions make for an awkward dinner. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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After two and a half months, Henry finally had the money he needed to open up the second location even without renting out the opposite apartment, and the two of you were scouting for the new place. You’d decided that you would run one of them and he would run the other. You were sad that you wouldn’t be working together anymore, but the two of you lived together now, so at least you’d be able to spend time together at home. Henry was also talking about hiring on additional employees if the second location did well, so the two of you wouldn’t have to work so hard.

“What do you think of this place?” He asked. “It’s a little small for what I was thinking, but it’s right next door to a popular wedding venue. We could do special deals for the weddings.”

“That would generate a lot of business, even in the slow season,” You replied. “And it wouldn’t matter if it was small if we had two locations. We could just deliver what we didn’t have here from the main building. It’s only ten minutes away.”

“Right,” He agreed. “So? Is it a yes to this one?”

“Well, it’s your decision, babe,” You said. “It’s your money, your business.”

“And you’re my girlfriend,” He said, pulling you into his arms. “And my business partner. You input matters to me. We make all decisions together.”

You smiled at him fondly. “God, I love you.”

He grinned down at you. “I love you, too. So?”

You looked around one more time and said, “It’s a yes. I like this place. It’s got character.”

“Right? It’s charming. We can work with charming. I’ll pay the deposit on Monday.” He picked you up and swung you around, as well as he could with his long tail in the way. “I’m so excited! Owning my own shop was my dream, and I never expected to be able to expand!”

“I’m so happy for you, babe,” you said, kissing him. “For both of us.”

He kissed you back twice and set you back down on your feet. “So, you’re still up for this weekend? Meeting the parents and everything?”

“Of course, I’m dying to meet them,” You said. “Do… they know about your side job?”

“No, they don’t,” He said firmly. “And I’d like to keep it that way, please. I mean, you know I’m not ashamed of my job, but it’s still my parents. All parents know their kids jerk off and stuff, but they definitely don’t want to talk about it.”

“This is slightly different, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “It’s still embarrassing to tell them that I take my clothes off for money, even if there’s no touching involved.”

“Well, they won’t hear it from me, then,” You said. “Your secret is safe.”

“Thank you,” He said, smiling. He took your hand and led you out of the vacant building and toward the bus stop. There was a bus for larger non-humans that came twice a day.

“Have you told them much about me?” You asked, sitting on the bench to wait.

“I never shut up about you,” Henry said ruefully. “I’ve been talking about you for years, even before we met. I think they knew I was in love with you before I did. My sister literally told me to shut up once, because I kept gushing about you.”

“That’s sweet,” You said.

“You don’t talk to your folks much, do you?” He asked.

“Not really,” You replied, sitting at the bus stop with him sidling up to coil next to you. “Lots of stuff went down when I left that my parents weren’t cool with, and they said a lot of things that I wasn’t cool with, so we’re just not cool with each other in general.”

“Hmm,” He said. “Well, my sister will like you.” His eyes narrowed. “That may not be a good thing. She keeps trying to steal my girlfriends.”

You laughed. “Well, she doesn’t have a chance. I’m over the moon for you.”

He grinned at you. “That’s good to hear.” He lay his head on your shoulder briefly. “I’m madly in love with you.”

“Yay,” You said softly, kissing the top of his head, careful not to stab yourself on his horns.

“Can we go home and have celebratory sex?” He asked.

“Absolutely. Then we’ll order dinner and play a round of Final Fantasy XIV.”

“It’s a date. I do have a cam session later tonight, though, so I have factor that in.”

“Oh, if that’s the case, we should wait on the sex,” You said, looking down the street and seeing the bus approach. You stood up. “You should be fresh for your clients. We can have all the boning we want afterward. Anything fancy planned?”

“Nope, just a show and share, standard stuff. But it’s a new client, so that’s typical. ”

“Have you dropped a client? You usually don’t take new ones unless one either stops buying slots or you ban someone.”

“One of my old patrons moved on, so I held an auction for his slots. The money from that auction was the final monetary push I needed for the new location,” He said, following you to the curb as the bus stopped in front of you.

“Well, thank you to that person,” You said with a laugh, getting up into the bus. Henry followed you.

After getting home, the two of you ordered some sushi and played video games. Around eight o’clock, he set the controller down.

“Time for the session?” You asked, powering down the game console.

“It will be soon. I need to get ready. Want to help out?”

“Always. That new purple bolero would look lovely, and we can put some spray glitter in your hair.”

“That shit takes forever to get out!” He whined.

“Yeah, but it looks so cute! And I’ll help you wash it out later.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” You said. “Come on, I’ll get you all dressed up and looking pretty for your new client.”

“You’re the best, babe.”                 

You had gotten pretty adept at getting him ready for his shows quickly, and honestly it was a great bonding moment between the two of you. He stayed still and obedient like a puppy while you were doing in and he always looked like a total snack when he was done. Not that he didn’t normally, but the costumes were a great garnish.

When you were finished, you kissed him, said, “Have fun,” And left him to his work.

He’d moved his camming desk and rig to the bedroom so that the two of you could set up his and hers gaming stations in his old office, where the two of you spent a lot of time.

You’d just sat down to play some Among Us with friends when you realized that you’d left your phone in the bedroom. You swore at yourself for being so thoughtless. The number one rule was never interrupt a camming session, it could cost him clients if they found out he had a girlfriend. Some might even want you to participate, and that was not something you were up for.

But you also didn’t want your phone to ring while he was in a video chat. You were usually so careful, so this made you really mad at yourself. Henry couldn’t afford to lose customers right now, with opening the new location. He’d need every penny he could earn.

You knew he kept his Discord up when he was working, in case any emergencies arose and you could notify him, so you pulled it up and typed, >I forgot my phone in the bedroom. Can I come get it?

He typed back, >Sure, just try to be quiet, please.

You tip-toed to the bedroom and pushed the door open gingerly. Henry was talking to his new client playfully. He flicked his eyes over to you and gave you a quick wink before returning his attention to the screen.

Henry’s desk was circular and facing inward toward the wall, so there was be a solid background rather than showing his clients your bedroom. Your phone was on the nightstand next to the bed-nest, out of frame.

“So, tell me a little about yourself, sweetheart,” He said sultrily. “What do you like? What do you like having done to you?” Henry was wearing an earpiece through which the client responded. This prevented you from having to listen and the client from hearing you rattling around in the apartment. “Mmm, that sounds fun. You want to show me, or would you like me to show you first?”

You stealthed across the room and picked up your phone, turning it to silent. When you turned back around, Henry had removed the bolero jacket and was touching his chest suggestively and biting his lip.

“You look so pretty when you do that,” He said with a low-pitched growl in his voice.

Watching him in his element was… kinda hot. Instead of leaving, you sat down quietly on the bed-nest and watched him. He flicked his eyes over to you again for a millisecond, and you heard him typing.

>What are you doing?

>Admiring you. You responded. >You look so sexy.

>You’re breaking the rule.

>Then tell me to leave.

You could tell he was suppressing a smirk, but he didn’t tell you to leave.

>Just be as quiet as possible and you can stay, just this once, He texted you.

>Promise.

He continued the session with you reclining in the nest, watching him work. Normally in the first session with a new client, he didn’t go all the way, so to speak. It was more of a peep show and less of a full service. Usually it was a strip tease and some light touching to entice them to continue their subscription.

The way he was putting on a show for the camera, the exaggerated movements, the low, husky voice, the touching, the sly smirk on his lips, did things to your body. You squeezed your legs together and squirmed slightly, but he didn’t notice.

How much would he let you get away with, you wondered? Slowly, you let your hand slip into the sleep shorts you were wearing, spreading your legs a little.

This time he noticed. A minuscule flick of his eyes made them widen slightly, and he turned back to the keyboard while still engaging with the client.

>Stay quiet, He said. >Don’t make a sound.

He lowered his lashes and took a covert look at you, and you nodded.

He continued with his flirty introduction and laid the flattery on thick to the client, while every once in a while stealing a glance at you. You rocked your pelvis against your hand, massaging your pearl and biting your wrist to keep silent, all while watching him. You saw him pull his tail around under the desk and began stroking his slit in circles, the heads of his dual cocks just starting to peek out.

Just as you were getting to your first orgasm, Henry said, “Well, darling, our time is up. I hope I’ll see you again. I had a wonderful time with you.” He dipped his head down and looked up through his eyelashes, pouting slightly. “Come back soon. Until then, you take care, okay darling? Good night and sweet dreams.”

You came hard, gripping the sheets in one hand as you struggled to stay quiet. Henry exited out of the video chat, tore his earpiece off and threw it onto the desk, and darted toward you, pulling your hand out of your shorts and over your head.

“You…” He said with a dark, gruff tone. “You have been very… very… bad.”

This was a new side to sweet, cuddly Henry. “And what will you do?” You taunted, feeling a little thrill up your spine.

Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach and snatched your shorts and underwear off. He pushed himself into you, not in a way that hurt, but definitely hard and unceremonious. Since you had climaxed already and were a bit sensitive, it was almost sensory overload, but it was so good, and you gave yourself over to it.

He took both of your hands and held them behind your back with only one of his while he used the other to grip your hip to pull you harder against him.

“Don’t be quiet now,” He growled at you. “Make noise. Moan for me, scream for me, let me hear your voice.”

You were happy to obey, being a little louder than you normally were. You grunted and groaned as he pounded into you roughly, a way he’d never been with you before. He was always gentle and affectionate, and you loved it, but this was on another level. It was hot and passionate and wild, and you were enthralled. You loved Sweet Henry, but Feral Henry was incredible.

Henry came violently against you, growling, and withdrew, thrusting the second cock into you and going full-throttle again. You were used to Henry’s stamina by now, so you could hang with it. Another burst of pleasure crashed into your body, and you screamed his name.

“That’s a good girl,” He snarled into your ear.

A third orgasm, and then a fourth, and by the fifth, you were getting tired. He released one last shot inside you and let you go, collapsing next to you in the nest. You lay face down and gasped.

After a moment or two, he got up on his elbow and stroked your back.

“Are you okay? Do you need some water? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked softly.

Ah. Sweet Henry was back. You loved Sweet Henry. He was the best.

“No, I’m okay, babe,” You turned your head to look at him. “What was that? You’ve never been like that with me before.”

“I don’t know,” He said, looking a little shocked at himself. “I’ve never been like that with anyone before. Was it bad?”

“No, on the contrary, it was amazing,” You replied, turning on your side to face him. “I was just playing with you, I didn’t know I’d bring that out.”

“Me neither,” He said ruefully, laughing self-consciously and scratching the back of his head. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’d have said so if you did, you know that,” You said, reaching up to stroke his face. “I won’t sit in on sessions again, I know it’s bad for business. But… maybe we could roleplay Feral Henry one night. That was fun.”

He grinned wickedly at you, kissing the inside of your hand. “I look forward to it.”

That Sunday, the two of you took a trip across town to see his family. Despite living in the same city, you hadn’t actually met them yet. They traveled often for work, as they owned an advertising company and worked with businesses across the country. Their daughter, Henry’s older sister, was their secretary and did most of their scheduling.

Henry didn’t want to be an executive with the company and preferred to stand on his own two feet… so to speak. Thankfully, his family was understanding and didn’t object when he decided to follow his dreams instead of staying with the family business. After all, the advertisement company had been his parents’ dream.

You and Henry took a large-race cab service out to the richer end of the city, where his parents lived. They’re house had been built with nagas specifically in mind, so it had been built all on the ground level, but it was huge. There were at least six bedrooms, as far as you could tell.

Henry’s parents, Ruth and Richard, met you at the door. Ruth’s scales were a solid bright blue from waist to tail. Her skin was a burnished bronze and her eyes were gold in color. She had a long, lovely set of wings in blues and gold. She wore a long halter top in a deep brown that matched her tumbling hair and complemented her skin tone.

Richard, on the other hand, did not have wings and as such, wore a simple button up shirt. He was grey in color, both scales and skin, with black rings along his tail and grey horns jutting up from the top of his head out of his pitch black hair.

Naga women didn’t have mammary glands, since their diet at birth was strictly meat, transitioning to other foods as they aged, so nagas often didn’t feel the need to wear clothing. Henry didn’t typically wear clothing unless he was camming or in the shop, in which he wore a basic white t-shirt specially made with a panel in the back to accommodate his wings. Sometimes an apron, if he was feeling fancy. Otherwise, he went without clothes. Today, he went super posh with a blue t-shirt, since this was a special occasion and everything.

“Henry!” Ruth said, rushing out to meet her son. “You look so handsome!” She hugged her son tightly, their wings touching lightly. “And is this your girlfriend? She’s so lovely! Come and give me a hug, sweetie!”  

You walked into her muscular arms and she gave you a warm, motherly hug that felt really nice. Since you weren’t speaking to your own family, this was a type of touch you really missed.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You said as you stepped away. “Henry has told me all about you.”

“Likewise!” She said, cupping your face. “Gosh, he’s talked about nothing else besides you for years!”

“Honey, don’t embarrass our son,” Richard said, coming out to shake your hand. “It is lovely to meet you at last.”

“You too, sir,” You replied.

“Oh, please, call me Richard. Come in, come in, dinner is almost ready,” He said, putting a hand behind your back, stopping just short of touching you, and ushered you inside.

You could smell a savory smell that made your mouth water as soon as you came inside. You followed Richard into the kitchen, where there was a large, high bar in place of a dinner table and a single barstool.

“We actually had to buy a chair!” Ruth said. “That was exciting. We did measurements and everything.”

Her excitement made you smile wide and feel a little shy. Henry grinned down at you and took your hand, leading you forward toward the barstool. You sat down and looked around the enormous, beautiful kitchen.

“Is she here yet?” A voice from the doorway said. Henry’s sister, Rea, entered unclothed, looking much like her brother but having her mother’s coloring.

“Rea, put on a shirt! We have company!” Ruth said.

“No, really, it’s okay, I’m used to Henry not wearing clothes, so it’s totally fine.” You hopped off the chair and went over to greet her and introduced yourself.

“I’m Rea, it’s great to meet you.” She looked you up and down. “You weren’t lying, Henry, she’s as hot as you described her.”

“Hey,” Henry said warningly, coming up behind you and hugging you close to his chest. “She’s taken.”

“For now,” Rea said to her brother, smiling slyly. He growled.

“Don’t fight,” Ruth said. “Come now, dinner is ready.”

Henry helped you pop back up on the stool and the naga family simply sat back on their tails. Dinner was rare steak and garden vegetables tossed in a homemade dressing and a dry white wine.

“Are you both amphiptere?” You asked Ruth and Richard.

“Yes,” Richard said. “But it’s less likely for the males to have wings than the females. Even among our own kind, Henry is rare.”

“Aww,” You said, patting his cheek. “That doesn’t surprise me one little bit. He’s special.”

“In the head, maybe,” Rea said, shoving a large piece of steak in her mouth. Henry shot her a dry look, but his mouth was too full to retort.

“Well, I’m glad he finally found someone who understands and appreciates his value,” Ruth said. “We were beginning to think he’d never get married.”

Henry choked on his wine, spitting it across the table. His parents and sister had to shield their plates.

“Mom, we’ve only been dating for a few months, it’s too early to be talking about marriage.”

“Oh, please, it’s inevitable, you’ve been in love with her for years!”

“Yes, but she wasn’t aware of that until recently!” He responded. “This is all new for her.”

“But you love her, right?”

“Mom, for the love of God,” Henry groaned, massaging his temples. “Yes, I love her, but it’s still basically the beginning of our relationship. You’re going to scare her off.”

“Well, what do you think?” Ruth asked, turning to you. “You’d marry him, wouldn’t you?”

You opened your mouth, taken aback.“I…”

“You don’t need to answer that,” Henry said. “Mom, really, don’t make her feel uncomfortable. Neither of us are thinking about marriage right now. Can we please talk about something else?”

“Mom, really, leave Henry alone,” Rea said.

“Alright, alright, I’m just saying--”

“Honey,” Richard said stiffly. “Please.”

Ruth sniffed and sighed, but fell silent. What followed was a rather awkward dinner.

As the two of you were leaving, Ruth apologized for being so pushy, having thought about her words over the strained silence. You told her it was okay, and that you were looking forward to seeing them again.

Back on the taxi heading toward town, you started thinking about it. Did he really not think about getting married one day? You were kind of hoping that eventually you would. Not soon, but eventually.

“Don’t worry about my mom,” Henry said, taking your hand. “She has that mom habit of not knowing when to stop.”

“No, it’s totally fine, she just caught me off guard, is all,” You replied.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, tilting his head down a bit to look at your face. “You seem bothered by something.”

“It’s just…” You tried to think of a way to phrase it that wouldn’t spook him but failed. “No, it’s nothing really.”

“No, no,” He said, bumping your shoulder with his lightly. “Come on, I know there’s something on your mind. I’m your best friend, right? You can tell me anything.”

You sighed. “Are you really not thinking about marriage at all? I don’t mean right now or anything, but like in the future? Maybe a few years from now?”

“Well…,” He began, his brow furrowing. “I mean, yeah, of course I am. I’ve been thinking about marrying you since before we ever met. But our relationship is new and I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you. And we’re opening a new shop! Who knows how long it’ll be before the chaos of that subsides long enough for us to even begin to plan a wedding? It could genuinely be years.”

“So… it’s a possibility, then?”

“More than a possibility, I’d say,” He said with a gentle smile. “But we need time to feel this out. Just because we love each other is no reason to rush into something we aren’t necessarily prepared for, you know? Marriage is… a lot.”

You nodded. “Yeah. And I agree with you, but I was just worried that you weren’t even considering it.”

“Well, don’t worry. It’s definitely on my mind.”

“Good.” You laid your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with his. “Do we still have ice cream at home?”

“Nope, I ate it earlier.”

“Boo, you suck.”

He chuckled. “We’ll stop at the store on the way home. Mint chocolate chip and some cookies?”

“You know me so well.” You raise your head and puckered your lips, and he bent down to kiss you.

“I do think that before we start talking seriously about marriage or anything like that, I want to stop camming.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, when I got into it, I never intended to be a career, it was just a side job to help me pay bills. It’s fun and I like it, but I don’t want to do it forever. There is a risk to it, and I worry that you might be affected by it, and I don’t want that.”

“Risk?”

“Yeah. In fact, I think I’m going to end the camming early this year. I’m booked through the month, but I think I’ll make a post tonight saying that I’m going offline for the season. We’re going to be run ragged getting the new place set up. Some people will be upset about it, but they can deal with it.”

“People will be mad?” You asked. The taxi stopped and he took your hand, escorting you out and down the sidewalk toward the small store near your home.

“Yeah,” He said. “A lot of people get that I have a normal life outside of my side job, but some people can be obsessive. Usually, they just wait until next season opens up and book all of my openings they can afford, but some get personal. I block the ones that are too aggressive or start trying to get too close.”

“Too close?”

“Trying to find out who I am and where I live,” He replied.

“That happens?” You asked, alarmed.

“It’s only happened twice. One of them got the hint when I got angry and I didn’t hear from them again. The second one I had to call the police on. I still have a restraining order out against her.”

“Jesus,” You responded. “I didn’t realize it was so… dangerous.”

“It usually isn’t,” He said off-handedly. “That’s the beauty of anonymity and the internet. But I am a rare breed, so it’s easy for people to match my face in real life if they really dig. I mean, you did, right? I have a VPN and pretty hardcore protections on my computer that prevent hacking it remotely, but people can be persistent.”

“That’s… scary,” You said, frowning.

“Don’t worry,” He said, flexing his arms and stomach muscles. “I can handle just about anything.”

“Just about,” You echoed under your breath, and followed him into the store.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

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[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Nine

Summary: Javier struggles in the hospital, but some of the symptoms are more somatic than physiological. He’s released, and the two of you have your first official date.

W/C: 4.2k (it just keeps getting longer... chapter 10 is 6k+)

Warnings: language, mentions of injuries, Javier used to be an asshole but he’s baby now, some innuendo/sexual flirting, brief mentions of food and alcohol

A/N: This chapter was actually hard to write! I had clear visions for 8 and 10 but didn’t have one for nine. Nevertheless, I really liked the way this turned out! I’ll post some sappy shit with chapter 10 but please know I love u all for reading and sticking around- it makes my little heart so happy that u guys love these two like I do <3

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Sleep is not easy when you have a massive stab wound in your abdomen. Javier hardly slept to begin with, but this makes it even harder. You tried offering sedatives but he harshly refused. You ordered dark and quiet for his room, but his sleep schedule was so helter-skelter before the accident that it was of no use to even try to fix it now. He can’t adapt when he’s not even in his own bed, he argues with you. Too damn bad, you tell him in return.

The only time Javier could sleep, it seems, is with you in the room. Specifically, in his arms.

It’s not that he thinks he’s unsafe. Hell, a hospital is the safest place he can be. It’s not that he fears passing in his sleep; he knows he won’t bleed out at this point. No, he just can’t sleep unless he has the comfort of a warm body wrapped up next to him. Specifically, the woman he loves.

You stand in the doorway with your hands on your hips. “Javier. I’m working.”

“This is specialized therapy for a patient,” he offers, persuasive as ever.

“I can and will get the opiates,” you threaten. “You can’t stay awake forever, and we both know that.”

“Ángel. I just… need the security.” He looks desperate. His eyes are tired. He’s slept very little in the past few days, leaving him agitated and restless. “The only time I’ve slept well in here was when you were with me.”

You pout a little. It’s adorable, you must admit, and most of all, it’s true. You and other nurses have been catering to him around the clock, since he only sleeps an hour here or there.

Sighing, you look at him. Your eyes are tired too. You’ve slept only when he sleeps, which is barely anything. You’re working on the floor or in his room with him. “Let me go talk with Connie, cariño. I’ll see what I can do.”

You walk into the break room with tired eyes. “Listen, ladies.” Both Connie and Lorena are sitting at a table, eating something. “Javier isn’t sleeping. He asked for me to stay in there with him to get some rest. It’s the only way it’s helped so far. Would you two cover my rotation? Just for tonight?”

Lorena’s large eyes sadden, and she nods. “Por supuesto. Anything you need, love.”

Connie’s not as enthused, but she nods. “You’re lucky this floor is dead empty.” It’s all too easy to imagine this was happening to Steve instead of Javi. That’s what makes her cave.

You sigh in relief. You take a quick shower then return to Javier’s room in a pair of clean scrubs. He smiles a little. “Hey.”

“Hi. You hungry?” You ask, walking to his bedside and taking his hand.

He shakes his head. “Just tired.”

You smile softly. “Well, you’re in luck. Connie and Lorena are angels.”

“No, you’re my angel,” he says with a teasing smile on his face.

“Well they’re mine. You’re the devil on my shoulder,” you laugh quietly and sit on the edge of his bed. He chuckles and pulls you into him, and you snuggle in against him, your eyes slipping shut. He murmurs affirmations of his love for you into your hair as he falls asleep.

And that’s how Javier sleeps for the next few nights. Bits and pieces during the day, but only restfully when you’re in his arms.

The rest of Javier’s stay in the hospital is uneventful. He’s a model patient for you and the other women. He apologizes to Lorena for his outburst under the influence too.

“Ángel,” Javier calls as you try to leave the bed and takes your hand.

“Yeah, cariño?” You ask and sit on the edge of his bed, pushing his dark hair from his forehead. The name makes him feel warm and tingly inside. Pet names from women who mean it are all too rare to him.

“I… should tell you about Lorraine.”

“You don’t have to, Javi,” you shake your head and cup his face softly.

“No, I really should,” he protests, and you nod.

“She was my high school sweetheart. We both went to college and came back and fell in love again.” You nod along to the story, watching his facial expressions. He looks far away, like his mind is back in Laredo. “We were engaged. I proposed and everything, did the whole damn thing.”

“What happened?” You ask softly.

His eyes don’t meet yours. “I got cold feet. I… left her at the altar,” he admits. He’s terrified you’ll run out the door now. It’s not an easy decision, to run away from a life you’re about to lead. It’s even worse when you know what that whole church, full of people, will think. But he did it anyway, and he’s scared you’ll never look at him the same way.

You swallow hard. It’s not what you’re expecting him to say, but you have to admit that it does sound in-character for the man. “And how long ago was that, Javi?”

He looks back up at you. “Jesus. 15 years now maybe.”

You nod, giving him a gentle smile. “Time changes people. You know that. I know that. Your past is the past, love.” You press a brief and sweet kiss to his lips. “I love you, Javier. Don’t you ever forget it.”

You stand and leave his room.

Goddamn, Javier thinks. You really are an angel. You must be, to have that response to what he just told you.

Several days after the injury, Javier is discharged from the hospital.

Despite his rage and arguing, the embassy refused to clear Javier for work. He was to be placed on a brief leave to heal and return when he was up to walking on his own again, without some kind of balance or assistance. Steve agreed to bring Javier some things to work on every night after returning from the office. Javier is already a restless man, and neither you nor the Murphys want to find out what happens when he’s bored all day, his best friend and his girlfriend both too busy to be around. Besides, a deep dive into some cases couldn’t hurt, he argues, and Steve relents. You and Connie take on the responsibility of checking up on him at least once a day- usually her more so than you, due to the fact that she lived directly above him- and of running any errands he may need, for things like food or medication.

As you wheel Javier from his hospital room out to the Murphys’ car, you realize you don’t have his phone number, nor does he have yours. You stop the wheelchair in the hallway and grab a pen from a nearby table. “I know it’s kind of unprofessional to give a patient my phone number,” you chuckle and squat to his seated height, “but I really think you’re cute,” you flirt as you write your phone number on his hand with a permanent marker.

You hand him the pen and Javier grins, his neatly-trimmed mustache (courtesy of Steve’s steady hands) moving with his cheeks. “You’re lucky that I think you’re cute too or I’d be telling your supervisors,” he laughs and steals a kiss before writing his phone number down on the back of your skin.

“It’s kind of weird,” you admit as the thick felt tip brushes against your skin, “that I’ve told you I love you and I don’t even know your phone number.”

Javier chuckles and caps the pen. He holds up your hand and raises an eyebrow. “Now you do.”

-

Three days pass, and Connie gives you updates on his condition whenever she sees you. He’s still in a lot of pain, but he’s lucky he was strong beforehand. You know that for a fact, and it hurts your heart to picture those beautiful abs you caught a glimpse of not too long ago marred by a scar he’ll surely have.

As you get home from a shift, you sigh and plop down on the couch. It’s late, you notice, but you miss Javier. Knowing him, he’s probably awake; you’re sure his sleep schedule is still as terrible as it was before the hospital. You grab the phone from the end table next to your spot, dialing his number and waiting.

Javier picks up on the second ring. Of course he’s awake. “Peña,” a gruff voice answers. It makes you smile. For a second, you want to just continue on without him knowing it’s you, want to observe how he acts when he’s with others. He’s different around you, you know that, and it’s adorable, you have to admit. “Hello?” he asks, annoyed.

“Hi,” you laugh softly through the phone. “It’s me. Sorry, I just got distracted. You sound sexy when your voice is like that,” you tease him.

There’s a smile in his voice when he responds. “Not a problem. How are you, hermosa?” he asks.

“I should be asking you that, Superman,” you laugh softly, leaning back against the couch. His voice instantly puts you at ease.

Javier laughs too. “Superman?”

“Big, strong. My protector.”

“Says the one who literally saved my life.”

“Who’s to say that cold wouldn’t have killed me if you didn’t take me to that diner?”

“Me.”

“I’m the nurse here.”

“And I’m Superman, apparently.” You laugh at that, wanting to reach through the phone line and kiss him then and there. “I’m no Superman, hermosa. I do bad things.”

“We all do, Javi.”

“Not as bad as me.”

“Gotta do bad things to catch bad people. You told me that. Are you trying to be this difficult, or does it just come naturally to you?” You ask sarcastically, smiling into the phone.

“I’m just telling you I’m not actually a good guy,” Javier says, his slight frustration evident.

“I was never under the impression you were. Is this you trying to push me away?” You ask, knowing that’s not the answer but hoping it’ll put some sense into him.

“No, no, cariño, I just-”

“Good, because we’re having our first official date tomorrow night. Okay?”

Javier chuckles a little at that. “I’m homebound. I appreciate the offer, but-”

“Oh no, Superman. I’m coming to you,” you tell him, curling up into a ball and grinning. “I’m getting takeout and wine- or whiskey, if you’d prefer- and we’re having a date night at your place. What do you want for dinner? You’ve got to be craving something.”

This takes Javier aback. This certainly wasn’t something he expected you to say when you picked up. “Uh… no. Nothing comes to mind. And I’m more of a whiskey guy, but wine sounds more romantic, I suppose.”

“Then I’ll pick up something that goes well with wine,” you say with a nod, beaming. “And I’m going to be tired after my shift, so you better be in the mood to cuddle.”

A laugh rings through the phone. “Of course you want to cuddle.”

“Says the one who asked me to snuggle him to sleep.”

“Hey, I almost bled out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one who asked.”

You’re both quiet for a moment. “Javi?”

“Yes, hermosa?”

Your voice is quiet and shy when you finally speak again. “Are you my boyfriend now?”

He grins, even though you can’t see it. “I don’t see why not.”

“Well, I like that, but we haven’t even had our first date.”

You can feel Javier rolls his eyes through the phone, but he’s clearly smiling when he speaks again. “Wouldn’t you consider that morning at the diner our first date?” He asks you, his face lighting up at the memory of it.

“No,” you shake your head. “I think we need to say it’s officially a date before it happens, then it can be a date.”

“I’m not going to be a very interesting date. I do have a large stab wound in my abs right now.”

“Don’t question my taste in men, Peña.”

“Trust me, I’m not. Do you want to dress up nice?” he asks. “A pretend night out?”

You grin at that. “That sounds wonderful,” you nod and rest your head on the pillows behind you, looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

“Better yet, I’ll cook for you.”

“Why do I have a feeling your cooking features microwave cuisine?”

“First of all, that’s not fully true,” he laughs. “And second of all, at least let me pay for dinner.”

“Giving up that easily? Superman may have to have his title revoked.”

“No, you were just right. I’m not a great cook; takeout would be the best bet.”

“I’ll pay and you can pay me back by looking cute for me.”

“Is this how women feel when men are demeaning?” He teases.

“You got it,” you groan.

Javier sighs. “Don’t know how you do it. How was your day?” he asks, leaning back on his own couch, slipping a hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Long. My back hurts,” you admit, hugging the pillow to your chest. “The hospital is much more boring when I don’t get to sneak kisses from a hot patient.”

“I would assume so.”

“Got anything interesting in those case files?”

“I think Steve pulled out a box from ‘79 and handed it over just to appease me. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“You’re supposed to be on leave. Do leave things.”

“Like what? You’re gone all day, so is Steve. There are my two options.”

“Javi,” you coo softly. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, you are! You don’t even know what to do with your life. When was your last day off that you didn’t spend nursing a hangover?” There’s a beat of silence. “Exactly. Watch some telenovelas, read a book, pick up a hobby.”

“I have hobbies,” he pouts.

“Besides drinking, smoking, and fucking. I know your reputation,” you tease.

He’s silent and shy when his voice returns. “Did you-“

“I’ve known that the whole time, Superman. You think Connie didn’t spill everything the first time I asked her about you?” You chuckle softly. “No, I know about you. I don’t mind at all. It’s kinda hot,” you tease.

“Hey now, don’t start what you can’t finish. I’m not gonna be in shape for anything for a while.”

You bite your lip, deciding between flirting back harder or leaving it alone. You decide to leave it. “I’m not,” you chuckle. “I just think everything about you is attractive.”

“Even my giant stab wound?”

“Especially. If that’s what it took for you to admit you love me,” you laugh softly, and you hear him laughing on the other end.

“You should get some sleep, cariño,” Javi says in a softening voice. “It’s late, and you said your back hurts.”

“I will. I just… couldn’t sleep without knowing how you’re doing. I’m glad it’s good.” You smile softly at the way his voice sounds through the phone. “I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow night all day at work.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it here.”

“Goodnight Javi,” you tell him. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he tells you in return. “I love you too.” He hangs up quickly after saying that, before he can change his mind and stay on the phone with you for hours more.

-

As you leave the hospital the next day, your best friend’s voice rings out after you. “Use a condom!” Lorena shouts before falling into a fit of giggles.

“You’re the worst.”

“No, an unplanned pregnancy would be the worst,” she teases and nudges your side. “Be safe!”

“Fuck you,” you mutter to her in English, but there’s a smile on your face as you leave the hospital.

“No, fuck Javi instead!”

“Goddamnit, Lori!”

The walk home is uneventful, as normal, but the sun is just about to start setting over Bogotá. It’s beautiful, you think to yourself, and you admire the skyline as you walk back to your apartment.

Once you get inside, you head to your bathroom and sigh as you look in the mirror. You’re tired, it’s evident, but your eyes hold your excitement. Turning on a cassette player in your living room, you dance and sing along to it in the bathroom as you do your makeup and style your hair. Both are simply done, but make you feel a little more confident, a little more elegant for your night in with Javier.

You dance along to the music and make your way into your bedroom. You change out of your scrubs and into the outfit you chose last night, in a rush of excitement after talking with Javier on the phone. It’s your favorite dress you wear when you’re going out, not that it’s often, one that makes you feel fantastic about yourself. You look in the mirror and have to admit, you look damn good.

After you twirl in the mirror a little, you pick up the phone and dial Javier.

The familiar greeting fills your ears. “Peña.”

“Hey, Javi,” you practically sing. “I’m leaving my place now, I’ll pick up the food and be over. Leave the door unlocked, that way you don’t have to get up and let me in, okay?”

Javier chuckles. “Yes ma’am. I’ll see you then.”

He hangs up and you grab your purse and a jacket, wrapping it tight around yourself as you leave your apartment building and head out to a nearby restaurant.

After the food is ready, you carry it in one hand, smiling to yourself as you walk the rest of the way to Javier’s. It’s closer than you ever knew, and it makes you smile even wider knowing that there’s only ever a short distance between you and him. The sun is now setting, casting everything in a warm glow.

Once you reach his apartment, you get hit by a wave of nerves. Impulsively, you climb the extra stairs and knock on the Murphys’ front door.

No response comes, surprisingly. Rather than continuing to knock, you get your courage up and go back downstairs, knocking on Javier’s door and letting yourself in.

Javier is at his kitchen table already, which is nicely set and even has a candle burning on top of it. He looks up when he hears you and smiles, and you immediately smile back. He’s wearing a long-sleeved, nice shirt and a tie, the shirt cuffed to his elbows. His hair, which has been messy nearly every time you’ve seen him, is neatly styled too. He looks professional, and it makes you giggle a little.

He takes a second to take in the sight of you too, his eyes raking all the way up your body until his eyes meet yours. “You look great, cariño,” he tells you with a little smirk, and you walk closer and set the food down on the table.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You look very formal.”

“This is what I wear to work,” he admits and tilts his head to the side.

“Then I’m going to have to come visit you at the embassy some time,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, for the first real time since the hospital. There’s silence between the two of you and you can hear a rhythmic knocking noise coming from somewhere-

You break away and your eyes widen, giggling. There’s a loud creaking sound that accompanied the pounding. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” Javi asks, but then the noise reaches his ears.

You have to cover your mouth to hold back a laugh. “I have to admit, I went upstairs to ask Connie for advice before I came down here… I guess I know why no one answered,” you snort before you hear a uniquely feminine groan, and both you and Javier start laughing uncontrollably, falling into each other.

You bury your face in his shoulder laughing, then quickly remove it, forgetting you were wearing makeup. “Oh god, do you have a radio or something we can turn on to cover that up?” You as him, still giggling.

“Yeah, come on,” he says and leans on you for balance as the two of you walk to his kitchen. There’s a radio on top of his fridge, and he turns it onto the American station in town. You smile at the memory of first meeting him while this was playing. Some slow jam from a few years ago is on, and Javier cranks the dial to adjust the volume until you can no longer hear the Murphys and their activity upstairs.

The sun shines its last rays into the kitchen, casting an orange glow over both you and Javi. He looks down at you and swears he can see exactly what he’s feeling reflected in your eyes. Your eyes hold such kindness and depth and unconditional regard for him, and it makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let you go again, never let either of you ever leave this apartment and this moment. Javier has never been one for words, choosing mainly to express his feelings through the patterns of his hips against a woman’s, but he tries in this moment, just for you. “You… have gorgeous eyes,” he tells you softly, and you giggle and shyly look away. “Really,” he says, catching your chin in his hand and bringing your face back to look at him. “So beautiful. All of you, especially tonight.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, gazing up into those big brown eyes and kissing him quickly. “Care to dance?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Javi chuckles a little and puts his arms around your waist in return. “Why not?” He asks, sneaking another gentle kiss before swaying the two of you around his kitchen. You rest your head in the curve of his neck and he smiles at the feeling, pressing a kiss to your head. He’s not a great singer, he knows that, but he mumble-sings the lyrics to you. You can feel his chest vibrate from his voice, and you sigh, pressing a kiss into his skin before resting your head on his shoulder again.

The song ends a few moments later and there’s a bit of dead air on the radio. No sound comes from upstairs and you lift your head, laughing a little. “Well, now that that’s all done… shall we eat?” You ask, and Javier nods, sneaking one last kiss from your lips.

The night ends with you and Javier cuddled on the couch. It’s late, and you’re watching his VHS tapes of old American movies. You’re snuggled into his side when he nudges your face with his neck. “Aren’t you uncomfortable in your dress?” He asks.

“What, are you trying to get me naked?” You tease quietly.

“No. Just want you comfy,” he murmurs, half asleep. You have to admit you’re tired too. “I have a proposal.”

“Yes I’ll marry you,” you laugh jokingly.

“Not like that,” he rolls his eyes. “Help me to my bed. You can wear some of my clothes. Sleep here tonight.”

You smile a little. “Is this your way of saying you can’t sleep without me anymore?”

“Sleeping alone is shitty once I got a taste of you,” he says with a charming smile.

“Alright Romeo,” you tease and kiss his lips gently. “I like that idea though. Let’s do it.” You stand from his arms, offering him a hand. He takes it and stands with a groan.

You help Javier to his bedroom, holding him up as a crutch and a balance. Javier’s tie was long discarded, after the two of you ate dinner. He strips the dress shirt and pants from his body, leaving him in just his boxers and a plain white shirt. He heads to his dresser and pulls out a large t-shirt for you.

You take it from him and kiss his cheek. He closes his eyes as you unzip your dress. “You’re allowed to look,” you murmur teasingly next to his ear. His eyes fly open and watch you hungrily, the way you’re exposed in just a bra and panties.

“Mi ángel,” he mumbles, his hands on your sides. He looks down at your body before finding your eyes again and smiling softly. He kisses you gently. “I know I have a bad reputation. You know I love you for more than your body, right?”

You nod, your arms around his neck. “Of course I do, Javi. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

He nods. “Just… checking.” This is all so new for him, and you can tell. You kiss him tenderly for a moment before pulling on the big t-shirt and flopping on his bed.

“Now get in here and cuddle me, Superman.”

“Of course, cariño,” he laughs, sliding under the covers and kissing the side of your face.

-

translations:

por supuesto- of course

-

hey taglist, come get y’all juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @fruit-of-my-hoechloins @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging

[nitannichionne]

If He Was Your Fan, Chapter 61: Britainization, Part 2 (A Henry Cavill Fanfic)

Chapter 61: Britainization, Part 2

Henry announces that he is driving you and Stella to a place for breakfast. You and Stella are both relieved you got dressed up a bit. The name Lanes of London Mayfair is a big indication that you should. You are dressed in a fluffy burgundy fisherman’s sweater and black leggings with brown riding boots, looking ready for a day of shopping but not at the gym. Stella is in a white shirt and beige jeans with dark brown sports jacket and ankle boots. You are happy you left your usual athletic gear behind.

After that, Henry takes you and Stella to a place that is not even listed.

“Henry?”

“Hmm?”

“I looked up London Trench,” you tell him. “They are online orders only, aren’t they?”

“For the general public, yes.”

You and Stella look at each other. She looks excited but you feel sick for some reason.

With a knock on the door, and Henry telling his name and time on the intercom, you are buzzed in. You step into a boutique that almost looks hidden.

“Mr. Cavill?” a woman bows.

“Hello,” he nods. “This is my lady and her friend. My lady needs a few trenches.”

A few? Did he say few? A few trenches was like…rent money! You look at him incredulously, and he only gives small smile.

“Must make it worth their while,” he shrugs.

Within an hour you are in selections called the Queen Classic, a straight cut, and the Goddess, an A-Line for dresses. You opt for the Goddess, and he takes you to Burberry’s for something shorter and surprisingly more expensive than that. You are cringing inside, and Henry hasn’t flinched. He is happy to see you try on coats. You feel the looks of the sales people at both stores. Face to face they are amicable and friendly, but you see the looks in the reflections of the mirrors when they do not think they’re looking. They don’t think much of you, maybe they think you’re a flavor of the month? Maybe it’s all in your head?

“Well, that’s that,” he sighs. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “yeah.”

“Sweetheart?” he says slowly, his blue eyes searching yours.

“I-I didn’t realize they’d be so���”

“Good coats are required here, love, I won’t have you getting sick,” he nods, tipping your face up for a quick kiss.

You nod and smile in understanding.

“Alright, you two, don’t get into too much trouble,” he winks. He gets in his car and is gone.

“Gotta be at work today by four for the dinner rush,” Stella said brightly. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s just hit a mall or something,” you say. “and we can’t go someplace Henry would.”

“I know, the places he took us!” Stella laughs. “He’s…he’s kinda out of it, isn’t he?”

“Childhood weight problems aside, I don’t think he realizes how hard it is out here, no!” you laugh back. “Experience is the best teacher on those things.” You get slightly serious. “I hope he never suffers like that. No one should.”

You both decide to go to Victoria’s Secret several blocks away, opting to start walking off that massive breakfast you just had. When you arrive, you ask for what they have in emerald green.

“That his favorite color?” Stella asks.

“No, it’s actually blue,” you say. “hey do you have any blue green?”

“Hold on, let me see what we have,” the clerk smiles and leaves to check.

“You seem to buy a lot of that stuff,” she says softly. “Do you wear it?”

You are looking on a rack, but you are thinking of the previous night:

“It’s tomorrow,” Henry said softly and pinned you against the door to kiss you.

You instinctively put your arms around him, welcoming his kiss, his touch. You raise your leg and he semi squats to help you wrap it around him. You both pulled at each other’s clothes hungry to feel skin to skin, your kisses passionate and breathy. You pulled your sweater over your head as he wrapped your other leg around his hips, kissing your chest and licking the skin between your breasts that your bra left exposed. He carried you up the steps to your loft bedroom and laid you on the bed, pulling your jeans off. He smiled at your navy blue bra and panty set. He returned to kissing you, and you pull at his sweater as he unbuckles his belt, slid it off and threw it carelessly on the floor. He slid his jeans off, and stood in nothing but boxer briefs that did not hide his arousal. He crushed you into the sheets and you arched to him, wanting nothing more than to feel him…

“It’s a lot easier to always wear bra and panty sets,” you joke softly.

“How many do you have?”

“Uh….I really don’t know?” you answer honestly.

After getting lingerie and clothes, you catch the tube to Angel Central Mall, and do some shopping there. You feel terrible that there isn’t time for a mani pedi, so you find a massage place that does shoulders and neck, promising to do a pamper session on another day.

As you both make your way back to Brixton, you look at the sights out of the window, try to remember the exchanges. You are so grateful to Stella for being your friend, smiling at her as she steals a nap during the ride home. You notice that some young people are staring at you. You sigh. You may be recognized, you have to get used to that.

Back in Brixton, walk back to your building together.

“There were people staring at you?” Stella gasps “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“There was no danger,” you tell her smoothly.

“Why haven’t you posted yet?”

“What?”

“Why haven’t you posted yet?”

“I post all the time—”

“Never pictures of yourself, though.” Her eyes narrow. "And never of you and Henry."

“Even before I dated Henry, I never posted much about my love life online,” you shrug. “My s/o’s asked to take pictures, so I didn’t deny them, but I’m not big on my love life on social media. Special occasions or requests sure but—”

“I get it, you like that your relationship is between you and Henry, not you, the world and Henry.”

“Yeah, it’s more intimate that way,” you smile. “I have pictures of Henry and me on my phone. Besides, it’s lots easier if there is a breakup.”

“Breakup?!” Stella chortled. “Break up? You and Henry? I don’t think so.” She pauses and turns you around in mid walk. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. He has no intention of letting you go.”

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve had the rug ripped out from under me before, that’s all.”

“You have?” she asks. “How bad?”

“Engaged,” you shrug, earning a small gasp from Stella. “he thought the ring on my finger, though not the marriage one, meant he could treat me any way he wanted. He cheated, he lied…it was like he thought the commitment gave him carte blanche to act up.”

“That’s shitty.”

“Yeah,” you shake your head. “Rings can be a symbol of love that will never end, but for some it is ownership or cuffs.”

“Kinda dark, there.” she says softly. "I don't think Henry is--"

“Sorry, it’s in the past, and I’m over it, but I learned that commitments mean different things to different people.” You take a deep breath. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way, Stella.”

“What do you mean?”

“The last time I was in love was my ex-fiancee,” you tell her. “and that was a long, long, time ago.”

“So you are in love with Henry!” she cheers.

“Yeah, of course, I am!” you laugh at her. “He’s intelligent and fun, has a good degree of common sense. He’s a natural leader and he is protective of and warm to those he loves. I need that, all of it. I have never felt so safe before, never..”

“He’s not bad looking either!”

“His looks can only go so far,” you shrug. “I’ve dated men who were good looking, even a model and an athlete. You’d be surprised how little that all matters if they are thick or coldhearted. Or even worse, a man with money who thinks he can treat you any way he wants because he buys you things--”

“Thick.”

“Yeah…” you giggle, realizing you’re using a British term. “thick.”

You both drop your stuff and go back to Market Row, Stella to work and you to do more shopping. Upi check out some of the surrounding stores, hoping for some really special finds that could liven up or make you feel more unique.

You finally make your last huge purchase: a bicycle. You head to Brixton Bikes for that, and get the lights, the helmet, anything you need. Strapping your bags to the rack in back and no longer a single walking moving target, you head home.

Just as you get a good stride on, your Bluetooth starts to play the instrumental version of “Addicted to Love.” You smile, clicking on. “Hey, love.”

“Hey….are you out and about?”

“About to head home,” you say.

“By yourself?”

You don't miss the edge in his voice. “On my new bike,” you tell him. He is quiet. Ooh, that’s not good. “Sounds like you’re in pub.”

“Yeah, yeah, very good, I'm at the pub, " He says. You can hear the smile in his voice for not using the word bar. "just for a pint with friends,” he says. “I just wanted to see how your day went.”

“Pretty well, but we didn’t have time for spa,” you say. “but I did find some nice things.”

“Good, glad to hear it,” he says. “I’ll stay on till you get home.”

“Awwwww.” Some men sigh dramatically in the background.

“Shut up!” Henry laughs.

You talk until you are safely inside your studio. “Alright, I’m locked up tight.” You feed Luna.

“Good,” he exhales. “they say it isn’t safe for women—”

“I am a moving target now, Henry.”

“Alright, alright,” he exhales heavily. “Talk to you later?”

“Definitely,” you sigh, sitting on your couch and starting to unpack your purchases. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.” He purrs, earning another round of catcalls from his friends. He laughs.

“Good night.” You shake your head at him and his friends.

“Good night.”

The first forty eight hours in your studio have been anything but calm, but now there is quiet. After unpacking your things and washing them for wear, you finally get ready to go to sleep. You take a shower and make your way up the steps to bed. It suddenly looks too big to you. You suddenly notice there is something under your covers. You pull them back and find the t-shirt he wore under his sweater last night. You squeal and throw off your nightshirt, trading it for this one. His scent surrounds you as you pull it over your head and you fall on the bed, your impact setting off the scent of him in your bed. You inhale with a smile as Luna jumps up and sleeps at the foot of the bed opposite you, where she usually nestles by Henry’s feet. You look at each other and you sigh dreamily, closing your eyes and letting sleep claim you.

BULLETIN: With this new beta thing, I may have to start a new master list. I will be sure to put the link to 1-60 if I do. Love you, thanks for your support and especially for your comments, likes and reblogs. You truly give me life, people, you really do.

@mistress-of-ward @nuggsmum @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt @sweetdreamsofgelato @mary-ann84 @omgkatinka @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae @henryobsessed @summersong69 @sunshine96love @michelehansel @thelastsock @tumblnewby @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocks @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog @alphacancrii @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic @nikkilynn303 @circesgirl1 @xoxohannahlee @fckdeusername @maan24 @kaatelyyynn​ @absentmindr​ @introvertedmouse​ @sassy-pelican @griscka75 @angelcavill66 @marantha

[ayatosmlktea]

best boyfriend series | kirishima

A/N: So there is a list me and the gal pals have compiled of who we think are the best boyfriends in the entire world. I haven’t been in a thirsting mood for so long probably bc im mad ✨depressed✨ so the only thing on my mind is soft boys and how amazing they are. This is the most writing I've done in months but I wrote this for Bri’s birthday a while back and am now sharing them with you bc we could all use some wholesome kiripima 

I wrote these as the thoughts came to my mind so...its not really organized ANYWAY enjoy!

- Your sense of humour and easy going personality is what draws him in even if he doesn’t realize it to be love in the beginning

- Even when he’s training with bakugou his eyes are always searching you out, the way you handle your quirk takes his breath away he just thinks you look so badass in combat

- Every time you ask if he wants to study together his heart starts racing so fast it feels like it’s going to burst out of  his chest and he has to fight back the blush that burns the back of his neck and ears whenever you giggle

- As you and Mina become closer, you start hanging out more with the bakusquad.

- Kiri finds himself getting increasingly distracted by you, he notices every little thing like the way your eyes shine whenever you smile, the way cover your mouth when you laugh which bothers him because the entire world deserves to see how beautifully radiant you look when you’re happy

- He notices the way your body language changes when you’re tired, how your attitude gets a little grumpier when you’re hungry and through learning all of that Kiri steps in to make you whole

- When you’re tired he passes you his notes to copy after class just giving you a knowing smile and ignoring the way his heart flutters when you stare at him like he’s your knight in shining armour

- He doesn’t like the way that Denki and sero playfully flirt with you, it makes him feel weird although he knows he has no right to be jealous so he ignores it

- During your second year you start dating Shinsou and Kiri can feel his world come to a halt, his heart plummets into this stomach but he puts on a fake smile and tells you that he’s happy for you and he hopes Shinsou treats you right

- You don’t seem to notice the way the light in his eyes is gone, how much more time he puts into training now that you’re busy with your new relationship and as bitter and mad as he wants to be he knows you deserve to be happy, even if it isn’t with him so he pushes his feelings down and acts like he isn’t being punched in the gut every time you kiss shinsou and not him

- Your last night in the dorms before summer vacation Kirishima finds himself being woken up by a quick series of knocks on his door

“Denki I told you already pennywise is not under your be-” he stops mid sentence when he finds you outside of his door, sniffling with red rimmed eyes

- He’s barely awake and processing what’s happening as he opens his door wider so you can come inside before one of the teachers catches you out of bed and on the boys side of the dorms

- He can hear that you’ve been crying and are still trying not to when you apologize for waking him up so late but you didn’t know who else to go to and suddenly his entire body is burning with anger when you tell him that Shinsou broke up with you

- He can’t help but let out a broken laugh, Shinsou never deserved your heart in the first place. If he couldn’t see how dedicated you were to the people you loved, how you cared for your friends and put their needs above yours, how incredibly talented and hardworking and beautiful you were then he was the dumbest man alive

- You’re suddenly quiet and Kiri realizes that he’s said all of that outloud and the overwhelming urge to disappear consumes him. He was sure that you were going to get up and walk out and never speak to him again but you don’t

- Instead you ask if he means what he said so quietly he can barely hear it and despite how hot his cheeks are burning with embarrassment he tells you he does

- He stops you when you lean in to kiss him and his heart hurts when he can see the rejection and embarrassment paint your features but he tells you that it’s not because he doesn’t want to kiss you, because of course he wants to, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of your feelings when you’re going through an emotional time

- You two spend the summer hanging out- just as friends, he wants to give you time to get over Shinsou because the last thing he wants is to be your rebound

- But with every day that goes by he finds it harder not to kiss you, not to hold your hand, not to text you every second of the day, not to tell you that he loves you

- The realization that he loves you doesn’t scare him, but it is the first time he admits to himself and accepts it rather than trying to bury it and so after he walks you home and you turn to go into inside he grabs your wrist and pulls you in for a kiss

- It’s not the most coordinated kiss but it sets every nerve in his body on fire and you’re both clinging onto each other like it’s your only lifeline. You break apart with the biggest smiles on your face and in that moment Kiri knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- Well i wasn’t planning to write all that so now let’s get into WHY he’s the best bf

He’s 100% devoted to you, literally you could be in a room full of fkn models and his eyes would be focused on you because he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman to walk the earth

Any other relationship you’ve had in the past does not even come close in comparison to how Kiri treats you

- He would give up his life to make sure you’re happy, seeing you upset breaks his heart because he cannot stand the sight of you crying. It literally tears a whole in his chest

- If it’s within his power to deal with, he will make sure that whoever hurts you does not make the same mistake again. Maybe its a little unethical to use his pro-hero status to strike fear into the heart of creeps who won’t leave you alone at work, or the girls who enjoy gossiping about your relationship behind your back but he does not give a single fuck

- Your happiness comes before his and if you aren’t happy, he’s not happy.

- If he hears people talking about your relationship and making it seem as though you’re only with him for the fame or money he’ll tear them down with the brightest smile on his face not missing a beat

- While he acts all big and scary fighting villains, when he comes home to you at the end of the day he is the most cuddly person you’ve ever known. It doesn’t matter how exhausted he is, he always grabs you in for a hug and doesn’t let you down until he’s satisfied.

- Kiri is really big on skin to skin contact, expect him to constantly be slipping his hands under your shirt and wrapping his arms around you at the most random times

- When you guys are getting ready to sleep he’ll pull you snug against his chest and bury his face in the nape of your neck,

Your scent helps him fall asleep, not in a creepy way but in a ‘you’re safe and here with me so i can close my eyes knowing that everything is okay’ kind of way.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- In my humble opinion, once kiri catches feelings for you they’ll never fade

- Even if you fight, it only reminds him of everything you two have built together and that you’re worth fighting for

- You hear a lot of your friends complain about how their boyfriends never listen to them, or how they don’t know what they like, you watch them shamelessly flirt with other guys and wonder what it must be like to be in such an unsatisfying relationship

- Kiri knows you better than you know yourself, he’s so in tune with you and your body that you don’t even need to ask him to do anything, he just knows

- He remembers little dates that most boyfriends dont, your first kiss, your first date, the first time he said “i love you” outloud

- He also is the first one to say it and it happens when you’re just hanging out in his room

- He’s known that he’s been in love with you for months but didnt want to say it too soon and have you freak out but after nearly six months in it’s driving him crazy not being able to tell you he loves you

- When he does your eyes glisten with tears and he freaks out thinking that he’s said too soon until you’re crushing him in a hug and tell him that you love him too

- When you’ve had a bad day at work or life is just becoming too stressful for you to deal with he puts everything else on hold to comfort you

- Makes you your favourite meal for dinner, gets your favourite show ready to watch after your shower and massages your feet while you snack on some ice cream for dessert

- Ever since you’d started dating Kiri had a habit of “accidentally” forgetting his hoodies at your place, spraying them with a bit of extra cologne while you were in another room

- He loved it when you wore his clothes, it filled him with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe but it solidified in his mind that you were his

- After almost four years of dating he knows that he can’t spend another second without you being his, forever

- He stays up all night looking at engagement rings but none of them are good enough for you so he does a little more research and finds a place that makes custom rings and has the date the first time he kissed you engraved on the inside of the ring

- He 100% cries the second he sees you walk down the aisle, if he thought you were beautiful before, there’s nothing else that compares to you on your wedding day

-  Everything else drowns out around him and the other thing that matters is you, sliding your rings onto each other fingers and sharing your tearful vows and then you’re pronounced husband and wife and his entire being is elated

- He kisses you with a passion and fervour you’ve never felt before, like he’s pouring his soul into the kiss , every promise he’s ever made and will make and all the things he can’t find the right words to say are transmitted

[sparklyfairymira]

Prompt & Fic Updates (Updated 5/9)

Because I have a lot of fics and prompts upcoming, here is a list so you can see what's in queue and when my WIPs are set to update. Generally speaking, I will stick to this schedule as much as a I can, though it might change from time to time.

A HEART PERMANENTLY BOUND TO YOU

BELLARKECAVE

Chapter 3 (Final): 6/23/21

BETWEEN THE FIRE AND THE FLAME

CLURPHAMY

Chapter 3 (Final): 6/30/21

WAIT 'TIL I GET MY MONEY CH 1

BELLARKE/MINTY/HARPHY Chapter 3: 7/7/21 Chapter 4: 7/21/21 Chapter 5: 8/18/21 Chapter 6: 9/1/21 Chapter 7: 9/13/21

HE'S NOT THE ONLY ONE (WHO HAD A SECRET TO HIDE)

BELLARKE/MURVEN

Chapter 2: 7/14/21 Chapter 3: 8/9/21 Chapter 4: 8/25/21

YOUR HEARTBEAT NEXT TO MINE

BELLARKE

Chapter 7: 6/25/21 Updating every Friday

UPCOMING PROMPTS

See below the cut for my upcoming prompts

FIND ME IN THE DARKNESS

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: 6/26/21

Seelie Princess Clarke is set to marry Unseelie Prince Wells, her childhood friend as has been arranged since their birth, but there is nothing less in the world that she wants to do. So she decides to run from the court but somehow ends up in the Shadow Court—somewhere that no Seelie should ever be. But then she meets the King of the Shadow Court Bellamy and something is drawing her to him. Bellamy can’t believe his luck with one of his subjects shows up at his door with a Seelie Fae and not just any Seelie, it turns out, but the Seelie Princess. He thinks that he’ll be able to use her to finally have his court recognized by the other two. He wasn’t expecting her to be his soulmate but as soon as their eyes lock, he knows. And he knows that he can never let her leave him.

COLD SWEAT

ROARKE

Expected publication date: 7/3/21

Clarke is a nurse who works hella late nights in the ER and walks home. She’s attacked one night while walking home — nothing happened because a (tall, muscular) stranger happened to be nearby and pulled the guy off her. But the man in question, Roan she learns, tells her that if she’s going to walking home in the city at night she should learn how to protect herself. So she signs up for a self-defense class...and Roan ends up being the instructor. He teaches her how to defend herself, and she starts growing more confident in herself in general. Confident enough to ask him out after class one day. Let’s just say they never make it to their dinner reservation.

TIL DEATH

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: 7/10/21

Clarke falls in love with Bellamy the moment she lays eyes on him. He's smart and handsome and has a fire inside of him that she finds mesmerizing. Sure, he's always been secretive, but his secrets are a small price to pay for his love. But then she learns what those secrets are, and suddenly the price doesn't seem so small. He's not what she thought he was, and even though she loves him, she plots to take him down

JUST KEEP BREATHING

BELLARKE/MINTY/MURVEN

Expected publication date: 7/17/21

Their group consists of six. Bellamy, a convict with a thirst for revenge. Miller, a sharpshooter who can’t walk away from a wager. Monty, a runaway with a privileged past. Raven, a spy known as the Wraith. Clarke, a Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums. Murphy, a thief with a gift for unlikely escapes. Somehow they managed the impossible heist only to be backstabbed and Raven to be kidnapped. They get Raven back and they get their revenge but nothing ever comes for free. "We were all supposed to make it, " Monty says softly. Maybe they'd been naive but they had never questioned their survival—no matter how dicey the situation seemed. But Bellamy is dying in Clarke's arms—the only place he wants to be—and Raven is telling her that she has to accept it. Only Clarke knows that she doesn't have to. She may not have the jurda parem but it's already changed her powers. She can do this. She knows she can. She pulls on all of the power that she can and forces it into Bellamy's body as the last breath leaves his lips. Or a Six of Crows AU that picks up at the end of Crooked Kingdom with slightly different results.

REMEMBER THOSE WALLS I BUILT (WELL, BABY, THEY'RE TUMBLING DOWN)

BELLMORI

Expected publication date: 7/19/21

Emori isn't the sentimental type. When you grow up the way she did, you tend to learn to not get attached to things. When you get attached, that opens you up to loss. And she's had about all the loss she can handle. But then she meets Bellamy. He's a grad student at NYU, this hot book nerd whose hair is always a mess and who comes to her bar to do homework like some sort of weird. Says he grew up basically in a bar, and the background noise helps him focus when his apartment gets too quiet. And he's...not her type. He's got kind eyes and his hair is always a mess and he's getting a master's so he can teach history and he wants to travel the world to see all of the places he's going to teach students about in person. He wears his heart on his sleeve and makes stupid jokes and chats with everyone he sees. Meanwhile, she's got hard edges and a rough exterior no one's ever gotten close enough to even try to crack. Well, no one until Bellamy. And the closer he gets, the more she starts to think maybe the risk of opening up is worth the reward...

WELCOME TO TEMPTATION

BELLARKE/CLURPHY/ROARKE

Expected publication date: 7/24/21

Riot Night changed Clarke’s life forever. A gang war between the Grounders and the Reapers had reached a head that night. The first riot began at the abandoned amusement park where Clarke and Raven were attending an underground MMA fight. Clarke makes sure that Raven gets away but finds herself in danger only to be rescued by three extremely attractive mystery men. Three mystery men that framed her as the ringleader of Riot Night. It’s eleven months later and she is coming back to Arkadia for the first time in the eight months since she was acquitted of all charges. As she arrives at her mother’s house she discovers that the three mystery men are her new housemates and they have no intentions of leaving. Now all that she desires to revenge—no matter the cost. When she finds herself in danger it is her new housemates that vow to keep her safe. Can Clarke learn to trust Bellamy, Murphy, and Roan? Does she need to trust them to sleep with them? Because it has been a long eleven months of celibacy and they are all stupidly hot. Based on the Madison Kate series, a reverse harem enemies-to-lovers story involving lots of sex and lots of violence.

Will be added to WIP list w/ expected publication dates after the first chapter is posted.

THE AFFAIR

MEMORI

Expected Publication date: 7/31/21

Murphy is married to Clarke Griffin, a hotshot doctor who's on her way to becoming the youngest chief of surgery ever at Arkadia Memorial. But their marriage is more show than anything these days, and neither of them is in love anymore. She's constantly at work, and he's left to his own devices. That is until he meets Emori at one of Clarke's hospital galas. The affair they startup is supposed to be fun, a bit of distraction from Murphy's otherwise mundane life. But then real feelings develop, and he isn't sure how he's supposed to tell Clarke that he thinks he's found the one...and it's not her.

IT'S YOU (IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU)

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: August

Clarke, Princess of the Arkadian ocean, and Bellamy, Prince of the Mecha sea, were not supposed to ever meet—let alone fall in love. There were engagements to uphold, treaties to sign, and wars to win. But they do meet and they fall in love—deciding to leave it all behind. Before they can run away together their two kingdoms unite to banish the princess and the prince to separate oceans, to separate their souls, despite the sea witch's warnings. But soulmates always find a way back to one another. Can Bellamy and Clarke find each other and right a wrong from centuries ago?

Will be added to WIP list w/ expected publication dates after the first chapter is posted.

THE ANIMAL AWAKENS

LINCTAVIA

Expected publication date: August

Growing up Octavia never understood why the foxes would follow her around. It wasn't until she hit her teen years that she learned that she was a Kitsune—the Queen of the Kitsune. In a world where the supernatural is viewed as evil, she has to learn how to rule her people but also how to live in the world into which she was born. Lincoln is a dragon shifter—a warrior with one purpose: wipe out the Kitsunes. He doesn't know why their two people are at war but he has never approved. When he meets Octavia it is easy to forget that their people are enemies. Can true love overcome everything for these natural enemies?

PIECE BY PIECE

LINCTAVIA

Expected publication date: August

Octavia's father left when she was just six years old, leaving her feeling unloved. It is her big brother Bellamy that picks her up and helps her put herself back together again. He is the first man to show her that they don't always leave and that she isn't unlovable. Octavia begins modeling in her teens and her father shows up under the guise of catching up and getting to know one another—but really all he wants is money. Luckily her stepdad Marcus is there to help her put herself back together again. He's the second man to show her that they don't always leave and that she isn't unlovable. When Octavia meets actor Lincoln she is cautious, afraid to put herself out there but he wins her over. And then they're married and starting a family. When she gives birth to their daughter she vows that she will never be like her father and it is Lincoln that shows her what it truly means to be a father. Inspired by "Piece by Piece" by Kelly Clarkson

REVENGE

CLURPHY

Expected publication date: August

Clarke and Murphy grew up together and they caused a lot of trouble together in their teens. They left Arkadia as soon as they were both eighteen and set out to make lives for themselves. They turned to robbery for an easy way to get some cash, but then a job goes wrong and Clarke gets caught and Murphy just runs. She’s spent the last six years in jail and he’s never once come to see her. Now she’s out and she wants revenge. But as soon as her eyes land on him, all those old feelings come back and she can’t decide which is stronger—her love for him or her need for revenge.

NOT EVIL, JUST HURT

LINCTAVIA

Expected publication date: August

When Octavia discovered her powers to control the weather she had been excited but a little overwhelmed. She tried to teach herself how to use them since there were no sorcerers or sorceresses in her village. Unfortunately, she’d lost control and massacred her entire village—her mother and brother included. When she was found out they tried to kill her, spewing hate and telling her that she is a monster. So she became the monster that they accused her of being. Years later when she meets a soldier named Lincoln who has been injured, something happens that she never expected—the ice around her heart begins to melt. Lincoln isn’t afraid of her and he is kind to her. She doesn’t understand it but she finds herself falling hard.

CUTS DEEP DOWN THROUGH YOUR CHEST (INTO YOUR SOUL)

BROARKE

Expected publication date: September

Bellamy and Clarke have been married for five years and they're just as happy as the date they got married. They love their jobs, their dog, their friends, their life. When Clarke's childhood friend Roan begs Clarke to be his date to his mom's wedding, she and Bellamy decide what's the harm—especially with Roan willing to foot the bill and pay her for her time. Bellamy's only condition is that he goes to. Roan agrees which should be the end of it—until the couple realizes that they're falling for Roan.

CITY OF CLOUDS

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: September

Clarke found the staircase in the middle of the woods—a place she’s been a million times before and it had never been there. Something was drawing her to them and as she climbed and climbed, clouds began to appear around her. When she pushes through the door she finds herself in a whole new world. Bellamy welcomes her to the City of Clouds and explains that the only way she could have found her way there is if she was looking for an escape. Clarke doesn’t want to admit it but she was looking for an escape from the pressures of her life—her mother’s expectations and pressure to marry Finn. It was all just too much. The City of Clouds is beautiful and she’s never known a place like it. And she’s never known a man like Bellamy before. And now she’s not sure that she ever wants to go home.

HOT & COLD

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: September

Clarke, the Winter Queen, has only ever known cold and logic. Bellamy, the Summer King, has only ever known warmth and emotions. When their two realms suddenly start bleeding into one another they have to figure out how to stop it. If they happen to fall for one another in the process, who can blame them? Can he teach her how to feel? Can she teach him how to use his head and his heart?

THE CRUEL PRINCESS

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: September

Bellamy Blake was seven years old when his mother was murdered and he and his sister were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, and Bellamy desires nothing more than to belong there but many of the fey despise humans. Especially Princess Clarke, the youngest and wickedest daughter of the High Queen. To win a place at the Court, Bellamy must defy her and face the consequences. Consequences deep down he's not ready to face—like falling in love with Clarke even though he can't stand the mere sight of her. A Cruel Prince AU

FORBIDDEN

MURVEN

Expected publication date: October

The sorceress of Arkadia, Raven, has only one job—to keep Prince Murphy alive until his coronation. There have been multiple attempts against his life and it has been decided that she is best equipped to protect him. She takes him far from the palace so that she can protect him. What she wasn’t expecting was to fall into bed and then in love with him.

BORN WITH TRAGEDY IN HER BLOOD

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: October

Clarke is the beloved queen of Arkadia and when Azgeda declares war on Arkadia, she is right there beside her soldiers fighting. During a battle, she is wounded and she’s not sure that she will survive but a man rescues her and nurses her back to health. Bellamy tells her of the chaos that the world has become since she went missing—water turning to blood & crops dying. It seems that there is some kind of curse on the land. Clarke immediately tries to drag herself from bed but she can’t even stand. Eventually, he agrees to see her home so that she can right their lands. And if he’s a little bit in love with her, who can blame him?

SOULMATE AU

BELLARKE/MINTY/MURVEN

Expected publication date: October

A continuation of chapter 39 of "We are all caught in the in between (Of what's real and what's a dream?)"

CONTINUATION/EPILOGUE OF A WALKING DREAM OF LIFE AND LIGHT (HATH LEFT ME BROKEN-HEARTED)

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: October

A continuation/epilogue for my fic A waking dream of life and light (hath left me broken-hearted)

SUPERNOVA GIRL

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: October

Zenon: Girl of the 21st Century AU — Clarke grew up on the Ark with her parents and loves everything about her life in space. But after getting into trouble one too many times, her parents are sending her to spend some time on Earth with her Aunt Diyoza. To say Earth is a huge culture shock would be an understatement. But things begin to look up once she manages to make some friends, especially Bellamy, the cute boy who is fully fascinated by her life living among the stars. Everything is actually going great until Clarke discovers something that puts life on her beloved space station in jeopardy.

DARK MAGIC AU

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: November

Arkadia, once a prosperous land filled with magic is slowly crumbling beneath the darkness that spreads from the forest that borders their lands—the magic all but lost and forgotten. As the darkness spreads, Arkadians begin to sicken and die. Following his mother's death and his sister falling ill, Bellamy decides that he shall brave the darkness and destroy Wanheda. Wanheda, the Commander of Death, used to have another name—Princess Clarke of Arkadia. In order to keep her people and her lands from being overwhelmed by evil, she took it upon herself to keep the darkness at bay. Into the forest, she went and made her home in a tower far from anyone and everyone that she has ever known. For centuries she has taken the darkness into herself to save her people and it has slowly been seeping into her soul until she has forgotten her former self. Now all she knows is the darkness. Can Bellamy save Arkadia and Clarke?

WEREWOLF AU

BELLARKE

Expected publication date: November

Clarke bought a little cabin in the woods so that she could get out of the city. She just can’t do all of the people and all of the constant going anymore. Everything is going well until she gets bit by a wolf and then on the next full moon, she turns into a wolf herself. She’s scared and confused—not to mention lost—when the black wolf finds her. She immediately knows that he’s like her—a werewolf. He helps her through the night until they fall asleep under the stars. When they wake up naked, she finds out that the black wolf is a very hot guy named Bellamy who has a proposition for her. Bellamy was born a werewolf, a gene passed down by his mom. He was raised as part of the pack and Marcus, the pack leader, was training him to take over when the time came. But then another pack came and killed most of their pack. Those that they didn’t kill they took prisoner—his sister being one of them. The only reason he’s alive is that Marcus had sent him out of state to meet with another pack. He knows that the wolf that bit Clarke is in this pack because he’d been watching her when she got bit—he just hadn’t been fast enough to stop it. Bellamy tells Clarke that he can help her get revenge on the man that turned her into a werewolf as long as she helps him get his people back. She doesn’t hesitate, her thirst for revenge and blood running too deep.

MERMAID AU

LINCTAVIA

Expected Publication Date: November

Lincoln sets sail one week following his wedding to Octavia, promising to return in six months, leaving her with nothing but a paper boat. It's been two years and everyone thinks he's dead. But then rumors reach her of a man who looks likes her dead husband, swimming in the sea—with a tail instead of legs. So she steals her brother's boat and sets off to find her husband.

UNTITLED

BELLARKE/CLEXA

Expected publication date: November

Clarke finds herself in love with two people: Bellamy and Lexa. Neither of them can stand one another and it's probably at least in part due to the fact that she refuses to choose between them. Tired of the pair's fighting she tricks them both into coming over at the same time and tells them that she will not choose. If they cannot get along then they can both leave. It's either both or neither of them. Reluctantly they get to know one another and realize that maybe the other isn't so bad.

UPCOMING OTHER

TRY AND STAY OUT OF YOUR HEAD SERIES (MURVEN HOLIDATE AU SERIES)

Holidate AU. FWB. June holiday. Expected Publication Date: 6/28/21

Holidate AU. FWB. July holiday. Expected publication date: 7/12/21

Holidate AU. FWB. August holiday. Expected publication date: 8/23/21