#i woke up to my partner telling me to take my meds and i was like nooo i wanna sleep more

[pocket-cowbae]

i had a dream i was dating Anthony Padilla and he was the sweetest gentlest softest ever, he kept smiling all soft n genuine at me and giggling when i blushed and we were walking thru a store and he was holding my hand (AND HIS HAIR WAS VERY SOFT!!) and he told me he wanted matching pikachu backpacks because he wanted me to make sure i knew how much he thought about me even when he was busy or traveling and it was amazing and i woke up feeling like 🥰🫣🥹

[thedollydiaries]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[xlocalxpunkx]

Cramps

Logan Howlett x afab!Reader

Warnings: Periods, cramping, gender neutral pronouns, soft!logan, fluffy, very light

Summary: Logan comes home from a mission to find you sleeping in bed, a stain forming under you. He wakes you up to tell you. Then, takes the day off to take care of you.

Logan gently shook you, trying to wake you up. He had gotten home early from a mission and wanted to sleep with his partner and rest but the world had other plans. The red stain below you stared at him from the mattress. You groggily woke up and looked at him, seeing his concerned expression.

“My love, you’ve gotten your period,” He explained and added, “if you go clean up, I’ll change the sheets.” You groaned and nodded. Your period had come a week earlier than it was supposed to. You went and cleaned yourself up, putting your preferred method on to keep any more blood going where it’s not supposed to. Logan’s flannel and a pair of his sweats awaited you when you opened the bathroom door. You smiled, he was so sweet. He risked his clothing to bring you comfort. When you looked around the bedroom, he was no where to be found.

Sighing, you climbed back into bed after changing into his clothes. The sheets were fresh and smelt like Logan’s laundry detergent. You grabbed the remote off the nightstand and turned on the TV. Being woken up, you couldn’t fall back to sleep. Especially with not knowing where Logan was. You put your comfort show on and laid back, waiting.

The door to your bedroom opened 20 minutes later. Logan had a couple grocery bags in tow as he walked in. He smiled at you, setting the bags down on the floor.

“Got you a few things, love.” He told you. He quickly began going through the items he got you; Your favorite chocolate, drinks, candy, chips, some pain meds, and even a little stuffed honey badger animal. A grin spread across your face. He handed you one of the drinks he got you, the pain meds, and the stuffie.

“Chocolate too, please,” You smiled. He handed you the chocolate, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Thank you!” You exclaimed. Logan was so caring to you. He quickly got changed and climbed into bed next to you. He sat closer to the middle.

“Of course, love. Sit in front of me?” He questioned. You didn’t dare deny the sweetest man on the planet a cuddle opportunity. You shifted and placed yourself in between his spread legs, leaning back against him. He snaked both arms around your waist, holding you to him. He rested his head on your shoulder.

“Told Charles I’m taking the day off, for you.” He whispered. You turned your head and kissed him gently.

“You’re so sweet, Lo.” You complimented.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell anyone, kay?” He teased playfully. He showed his soft side to few, but you’re the only one he let it out consistently towards. He remembered all your favorite things. He placed the palm of his hand flat against your abdomen, knowing his naturally higher body heat would help soothe any pain you were having.

You spent the rest of the day in bed, cuddling and watching movies, with Logan doing anything you needed. He was at your beck and call the whole day.

A/N: on my shark week and I just want cuddles and softness from him 😭😭

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part eleven//t.c.

Warnings:cursing, Hollywood toxicity, smut including some light choking, talking about sex with a former partner

The next morning, you awoke with Timmy’s arms around you. His head rested on your chest as he slept soundly. You combed your fingers slowly through his hair, just admiring him as he got some much needed rest. You loved seeing him so calm.

After awhile, you realized that he was content to stay that way until he woke up. So, you kept your hand in his hair, and started to scroll through social meds on your phone, beings how you couldn’t move. Not that you wanted to.

Timothée and Kylie’s kissing photos were all over twitter and tik tok. You couldn’t escape it. There weren’t even that many solo shots of him on the red carpet. It was all photos of Kylie at the A Complete Unknown cast table, laughing with Elle Fanning.

You personally did not follow Kylie Jenner on social media, but her posts often got shared around enough to where you would see them. She posted a selfie of herself, Elle, and Monica Barbaro, the caption reading, “cuuutest night w the cutest girls in a little 1999 Versace.”

You found it rather annoying and distasteful that there was no mention from her about the reason she was even at the Golden Globes. She was Timothée’s date, but you would never know that by the post.

You knew that he and Kylie strictly did not post each other or verbally mention one another publicly. But this was a little much for you.

Timmy stirred, groaning softly as he lifted his head from your chest. “Hm, scrolling dear?” he asked, perking up and look at your phone screen. He rolled his eyes, grabbing your phone from your hands. “Don’t look at that shit.” He dropped the phone onto the bed, curling back up to you.

"That shit is you, Timmy."

"No." he whined like a child, "Not the real me, you know that. This is me, here."

You sighed, "Well, I guess it's more Kylie than you. You would think she had been nominated at the Globes since she doesn't show you or mention you."

"We don't do that shit. We don't post each other." he mumbled, his forehead nudging your jaw.

"Well, between her in that Versace dress and the drama with Demi Moore, it's all about her. People aren't even mentioning you."

Timmy raised his head, "What drama with Demi Moore? She came over to our table, but nothing bad happened."

"From Kylie's point of view, Demi blatantly ignored her."

You could tell he was genuinely annoyed now, "Oh, she was just talking to Elle and Monica about the film and congratulating all of us. Kylie wasn't part of the movie; she's not even an actress. Demi didn't owe her anything."

You shrugged, "That's not how Jenner fans see it."

He sighed heavily, sitting up next to you in the bed. "Fuck, somehow she always makes everything about her. It's like they can't stand it if someone else might get more attention."

"Who's they, babe?" you asked, taking his hand.

He held your hand, "Her and her sisters. And their mom." He shook his head. "I wish this would just go away so I can just be with you."

"Maybe it's my fault. I shouldn't have been scrolling." you admitted.

He looked at you, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss, "No, it's not your fault. Someone would have brought it to my attention eventually."

“Yeah,” you leaned into him this time, rested your head into his neck, “I guess so. When do you have to see her again?”

Timmy scoffed at the question, “I don’t want to talk about her.”

“You never want to talk about her.”

“Yeah, maybe I’d rather just enjoy the time I have with you.” he shoved the covers off himself, getting out of the bed, contrary to what he had said. He needed to escape the conversation.

“I’m just trying to understand-"

“All you need to understand is that I love you.” he paused at the foot of the bed.

“Timmy, sex isn’t love.”

“I tried to tell you before we had sex, you wouldn’t let me. But I fucking feel it, and it’s not because we had sex or because you’re a distraction from Kylie. It’s because you’re you, y/n. I love you.”

“Okay, okay,” you quickly moved to meet him at the end of the bed and pulled him in close by the shoulders, “I believe you.” You kissed his lips.

“It’s okay if you don’t say it back, I mean, it took a lot for me to say it so I imagine that you’re the same way and-"

You tapped his cheek, “Timmy, stop rambling.”

“I know. I’m just nervous.” he admitted.

“You’re nervous? Timothée Chalamet gets nervous around a woman?” you were loving the effect you had on him.

“Oh, fuck off.” he said, playfully shoving you back on the bed.

You giggled as he climbed on top of you. You threw your arms around his neck as he kissed you. The weight of his body slowly collapsing on you. You were both still naked from the night before, and you felt his cock hardening against your thigh.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hand cradling the side of your head.

“Yes, god, I want you Timmy.” you lifted upwards, smashing your lips to his. You tucked your legs around his waist. His cock slapped your pussy, and you moaned in his mouth at the feeling. You wiggled your hips.

With a soft thrust of his hips, his cock slid into you, “ugh, baby.” he huffed.

You laid back as he pumped into you.

He held you down, soft wet sounds hit your eardrums as well as your light panting. He looked deep into your eyes, slowly alternating between that and kissing you. He placed his hand across your throat, squeezing your neck, decreasing your air intake. You were completely dependent on him to breathe as he bottomed out inside of you. He moved his hips side to side.

You gasped, feeling so full of him.

He released his grip on your throat. Then, he laid down, his flesh on your flesh as he continued to thrust his hips into you.

…���.

Afterward, you lay together in bed, your head in his chest this time with your leg thrown over him lazily. You couldn’t help but wonder if his sex with Kylie was as good as it was with you.

“So, what was it like to have sex with Kylie Jenner?” you asked.

“Y/n, don’t do this.” he warned.

“No, it’s okay. I won’t get mad or jealous or anything. I just wanna know. I mean, she’s gorgeous…she’s probably spent millions on her body and face, but she’s perfect. What’s it like to fuck the perfect woman?” You folded your arms, resting your chin on them on his chest so you could look at his face.

Timmy sighed of course, his chest heaved dramatically. He rubbed his eyes before he began, “I mean, you expect every straight man’s dream, and it was, in a way. Like, she looks incredible naked, everything is just perfect and big tits in your face, ass looks great when you’re hitting from the back. But once you touch her, it’s different. Nothing moves,” he brought his hand up, “and you can’t even grab her boobs, they’re like hard or something.”

“Hm.” hearing all this, you felt pleased with your natural appearance. “But what’s she like? Is she…good in bed?”

“Not really.” he chuckled, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, especially to you, but she just lays there, expects you to do it all. Not that I mind doing all the work, but she never went on top. I got one blowjob in a year and half of screwing her.”

“I had no idea you’d have so much to say. And not much is positive. You would think with a body like that, she’d have more to show for it.” you shrugged.

Timmy turned on his side, “Can we stop talking about her now?” he pouted.

You grinned at him, “Yes, thank you for being a good sport.”

“Anything for you.” he kissed your forehead. “Now, let’s get a shower so maybe we can get some work accomplished today.”

February 6, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala @heatherpi

[unhingedoveractivemuse]

Title: “I want to do chores with you for the rest of my life.”

Tags: Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Love Confession

===============================================

Eddie does not know what he did to deserve this.

“Don’t do that!”

“But…” he says, waving the shirt in his hand that he was about to toss into the washing machine.

Buck huffs, staring him down, and, with equal measures of fondness and exasperation, he drops the shirt into the hamper.

“Good. Now, if you could just go sit down somewhere, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’m not completely invalid Buck. My therapist told me to start using my shoulder, remember?”

The expression on Buck’s face tells Eddie he’s not quite happy about that development. “Light exercises. Doing laundry is debatable.”

Eddie sighs. There’s no way to win against Buck when the blonde is being stubborn.

And, honestly, a large part of him is relieved he doesn’t have to do the chores. He's not sure how much his shoulder can handle. Another part is glowing from the attention Buck is giving him.

He just wishes he could do something.

But, nope, Buck has been on top of everything, doing all the chores with ease, cooking them meals, making sure Eddie’s alarms for his meds are accurate, dropping off and picking up Christopher from school when Carla wasn’t available.

Eddie had protested, reminding Buck that there was nothing he could have done to prevent Eddie from being shot, but the Buckley stubbornness knows no bounds.

It’s not just the necessities either. Buck has been going above and beyond for them.

His best friend has done everything he could to make Eddie’s life easier. He changed the hinges on all the cabinets so Eddie could open them more easily (not that they were hard to open before), moved everything he could need to somewhere he could reach easily, changed the locks so he doesn’t have to wiggle the key around to open it, and even rearranged this clothes so he doesn’t have to shuffle through his drawer for stuff.

That wasn’t even the end of everything that Buck had done the last three months. He coupons to save them every cent, looks for deals everywhere (which is why there’s a mountain of flour in the kitchen right now for the inevitable school bake sale in two months), puts lavender and other herbs in Eddie’s room to help him relax and sleep better, and even got sewing lessons from Abuela to mend his favorite Henley.

Buck has made it so that he has nothing to worry about. Not the finances, the chores, Christopher, etc. Everything has been taken care of. All he has to do is focus on healing.

Even Christopher noticed, going so far as to say, “Buck’s a househusband.”

And if that hadn’t spent Eddie down a rabbit hole of feelings, he doesn’t know what did.

Househusband.

It’s a term that Christopher had picked up at school from a classmate, and it has Eddie thinking to this day.

Househusband.

He’s heard of ‘housewife’, of course, and he’s not so traditional that he thinks it can only be the wife that stays at home to take care of it.

It’s just that hearing the alternative version of the word had him thinking.

It’s always been ‘You have to be a man to take care of your wife one day’ or ‘Find a wife and start a family with them’.

But does it have to be a wife? Can’t it be a husband?

The idea hadn’t repulsed him or grated at him like he thought it would, and it made him think of it in a context with the man he calls his best friend.

And promptly went to therapy about it.

If it meant also having to talk about the shooting? Worth it. Because he can’t not figure out these feelings he might or might not have for Buck. They’re partners. If he doesn’t figure them out, they could be over.

And what a revelation it was.

It makes sense, in hindsight. The feeling of wrongness when he woke up with Ana next to him because all he wanted was Buck, a thought that had him promptly breaking up with Ana. The ease and happiness he feels when Buck is around. The safety he feels knowing Buck is there. The comfort of Buck’s hugs and touches. The eagerness that fills him when they plan another thing to do together with Christopher like a family.

Now he just has to figure out what to do with those feelings because he’s getting better and, sooner rather than later, Buck won’t be around the bungalow anymore and…

Eddie misses him already.

He’ll miss seeing Buck’s smiles in the mornings, the mindless chatter that permeates through the house, the relaxing evenings on the couch, the laughter over some corny joke.

If he says something, he’ll risk it all. Buck’s never been with a guy, so Eddie’s not sure if he’s straight or the string of women was just a coincidence. He doesn't think Buck will stop talking to him or let him down, but it’ll get awkward, that’s for sure.

If he doesn't say anything, nothing will change between them. But it'll also mean watching Buck get together with someone else and having to love him from afar.

If he says something though…

Well, he’s trying to wrap his mind around the possibility that Buck would even want him. It's hard to imagine Buck would.

Because what did he do to deserve Evan Buckley?

He doesn’t know.

He does not know what he did to deserve this.

Everything that Buck has done for him and his son has been out of this world, and there’s nothing Buck has asked for in return. He even gave up whatever he had going on with Taylor Kelly for Eddie.

What could Eddie possibly give him in return?

He’s a widower, he has a son, he’s got a ton of PTSD that he hasn’t quite worked through, he’s a terrible cook, and he’s…

He’s a mess.

But as he watches Buck crouching on the floor of his laundry room and separating the clothes to get them into the washing machine, he wants.

He wants Buck to stay. He wants to dry the dishes as Buck washes them. He wants to chop the ingredients while Buck cooks. He wants to separate the clothes while Buck puts them in the dryer. He wants to work on every chore together and then cuddle up on the couch. He wants the first and last thing he sees every day to be Buck’s face. He wants to officially raise Christopher together with Buck and maybe even adopt more kids.

He wants forever with Buck.

“Buck,” the name falls from his lips unbidden as he steps forward and falls on his knees so they’re almost face to face.

Soft-looking lips purse. “I’m not letting you do the laundry.”

”I won’t. There’s just something I want you to know,” he says, reaching up.

“What is it?” Buck asks, adorably confused even as Eddie brushes a thumb over that pretty birthmark.

But Eddie is a man of action, so his hand travels down onto Buck’s neck, pulling in his best friend for a kiss.

And what a kiss it is.

Buck gives a little sound, something that Eddie doesn’t quite know the meaning of, but easily accepts the gesture, resting a hand tentatively on Eddie’s waist. He reads it as the go-ahead it is and presses firmer onto Buck’s lips, relishing in the taste of Buck and the barbeque they had for lunch. The lips are pliant, unsure, at first but the longer Eddie presses, the more they gain confidence, and then they’re battling, hands searching.

By the time air becomes an issue and they pull away, they’re panting, eyes searching. Eddie watches as Buck blinks at him, lips swollen from their kiss and a blush rapidly starting to form on his cheeks.

“Hi,” he says like an idiot. “That was okay right?”

“Y-yeah.”

Eddie frowns. “You can tell me if it wasn't.”

Buck shakes his head. “It was. I just didn’t…When did you realize you wanted to kiss me?”

“Not that long ago. Christopher said something and it made me realize that I didn't necessarily want a housewife.”

“So what? The chores did it for you? Or was it the domesticity?” Buck asks teasingly, a tiny smirk on his face.

“No. You did it for me.” He brushes their noses together, planting another soft kiss on his best friend. “I want to do chores with you for the rest of my life.”

Buck grins, a rare, shy smile on his face. “I love you, too. I really didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

Feeling elated, Eddie kisses Buck again, again, and again until Buck laughs, gently pushing him away.

Blue eyes glimmer with so much love that Eddie would have been weak-kneed if he was standing. “As good of a kisser you are, these clothes aren’t washing themselves and you are still not helping.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got the rest of my life to do them with you anyway.”

And he will.

[malarign]

facetime doctor

(when you’re ill while he’s on tour)

contains: idolbf!Jake x gn!reader | genre: fluff | tw! an illness description (?), apart from that none i think | wc: 0,6k

reblogs likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

The sound of you coughing filled the living room once again. Yesterday you felt perfectly fine, until the end of your every night face time call with Jake. You called each other nearly every day, apart from days his schedule was too packed to manage to get even 5 minutes away from other members. You missed him dearly, but seeing his happiness on stage while performing with his friends made you the proudest partner in the world.

Today was no different and you wished to tell him how happy he makes you feel by his achievements. At the same time, the last thing you wanted was for him to see you in a state like the current one.

Your whole face was puffy and red as a long snot hung from your nose. Your current appearance perfectly reflected how you felt. As if there was almost no energy left in you, body and mind too tired to get up and make yourself something to eat.

Just when you didn’t expect it you heard a ring, notifying a face time call. You prayed you didn’t look too horrible on camera and your illness wouldn’t be too visible for him.

Accepting a call you covered yourself and instead of yourself pointed the view to your ceiling.

“Hey, bubba,” Jake spoke in a baby voice. “Where are you?”

You mustered all the possible energy you had left to make your voice sound plausible and normal. But to no effect.

“Hi,” you said and your voice cracked on the way.

You watched as his expression dropped in shock at how differently you sounded.

“My lovely, are you okay? Can I see you?”

You hesitated for a while, but then thought he had already seen you in much worse states than this one. You slowly moved the camera so that now it showed your face. You almost didn’t recognize yourself.

“My Y/nie, what happened? What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, his honey voice soothing all the ailments you experienced right now.

“I don’t know it was fine yesterday and after our call, I started coughing and all. In the morning I woke up like that already.” You pursed your lips.

He gathered his thoughts and peppered you with plenty of questions.

“Have you seen any doctor? Have you taken any meds by now? Gosh Y/n I told you not to ignore the weather, it’s really treacherous. Have you eaten? Should I call my mom to take care of you?”

“Jake, Jake stop for a moment,” you giggled at his worried state. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine by tomorrow or the day after. You have nothing to worry about,” you assured him.

He raised his eyebrow scanning your face. “Are you sure? What did you eat today?” he continued.

Knowing his reaction to what you were about to say you already prepared for scolding.

“Baby, you can’t do that. You need to eat especially when you’re sick. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation once again,” he scolded you, but his tone and expression were ever so gentle. “Let me order something for you quickly, you’ll just need to get it from the delivery man, okay? And please eat before heading to bead.”

You watched his face as he scrolled through the delivery app, wondering what he was going to pick for you.

“This one will help you be back on your feet, love,” he said and smiled noticing your dreamy gaze.

“Thank you, Jakey,” you whispered a little bit shy, feeling butterflies at his protectiveness, despite the long distance that split you.

“Maybe I should really call my mom?” he asked once again a little bit more quiet, but you reassured him you’ll be fine. “Why does it have to happen when I can’t take proper care of you?”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl

[possibilistfanfiction]

argument pt 2?

[here's argument pt 1 (i guess lol); u don't need to read it for this to make sense fully but if u are so inclined & haven't read it yet it might be helpful context.]

//

you don't know what else you expected. upon a very quick reflection — once your brain reorients itself from beatrice is so hot — you realize you were foolish to think anything else, especially not without a discussion. but, still —

'what are you doing?'

it's clear what beatrice is doing, standing with jillian in one of her fancy labs. she's dressed in all black, a t-shirt delightfully tight on her biceps (focus, ava) tucked into loose pants reinforced at the knees, boots that are tougher than normal but lighter than those you would typically wear in combat — ones she prefers when fighting because it allows her quiet, stealth, full range of motion. 'trying on new armor,' she says, and if it was years ago, the spike of anger that starts in your gut and shoots up your spine — anger, and sheer panic — would have set the halo off.

jillian looks between the two of you — your fists clenched; beatrice's arms crossed over her chest — and says, 'well, i'll be looking over some specs in... another room,' and excuses herself.

wisely.

it hits you, all at once, when you look at beatrice — your fiance, your life partner — that, right now, maybe more than ever, she looks like a soldier. it's not been lost on you over the years, not with her nightmares and the quiet, chronic pain she bears with little more than a tender wince some mornings, the way she loses herself after loud noises or too many people in a crowd, her usually steady hands trembling — it's not been lost on your that beatrice has been fighting for a long time.

'you can't seriously be telling me you're not going to stop.'

'i'm fine, ava. i was cleared by my surgeon and my physical therapist to return to all normal activities.'

you're so used to gentleness, now, even with demons to fight on occasion and the lingering affects of a holy war too great to fully comprehend. you're used to beatrice's loose cotton crewnecks you like to steal; the rust-colored linen pants she loves, light in the breeze off the water. you're used to her whining for posterity about couples halloween costumes, her afternoon naps with her kitten purring on her chest softly. you're used to dates she plans meticulously that you don't even try to mess up because she's so intentional with how she loves you, full of thought and care. you're used to your big house on the beach and her laugh in the afternoon, the freckles on her shoulders, her hand in yours.

'i don't understand.' you release your fists with the progressive muscle relaxation you've worked on in therapy, then take a deep breath. 'you — you want to keep fighting?'

you're the one who changed her dressings after surgery, who took her to months and months of painful and slow-going, steady physical therapy. you're the one who washed her short hair with the gentlest hands you could, even that hurting the bone bruise along the back of her skull. you're the one who filled the prescriptions for her pain meds, who held her hand when she woke up. you're the one who loves her the most. you're the one who thought she was going to die.

'i —' she seems at a loss, for a moment, and then, 'it's my duty.'

'your duty?' it comes out shrill; so much for your muscle relaxation. 'beatrice.'

she clenches her jaw.

'you're telling me that you're, what, just fine getting fitted for new armor because your last vest got punctured by shrapnel and almost killed you?'

'ava.' it's a warning, and a tired one — exhausted from over a decade. 'you're still fighting.'

'i don't have a choice.' you hate yelling but you're overwhelmed by the idea of having to go through what you did again and again. 'don't you want — don't you want to choose?'

she swallows and leans back against the counter. 'if i —' she shakes her head.

'bea.'

'i — i can't.'

'i want to live,' you tell her, an echo of one of the first things you knew years and years ago, and her lower lip trembles. 'for so long i have wanted to live so badly, bea.'

'i know.' her voice is laced with unshed tears.

'i — do you want to?'

she sniffles and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling; it's a sure tell she's trying to compose herself but you can see her shaking, holding it in. 'i never thought i would.'

you step toward her, wait until she offers her hand. you lace your fingers together and wait. 'did you want to?'

'i didn't think — i didn't think i deserved to. i didn't think that me living a good life would be nearly as valuable as, well —'

'dying young in a blaze of glory for god?'

it takes her a moment, because it's the hardest thing in the world to hold, this grief, but then she laughs a watery little sound. 'something like that.'

'okay, but — do you want to now?'

it hangs heavy in the air. you know that she goes to therapy faithfully and you've seen her cry multiple times watching the sunset; she touches you like a benediction. but the answer is impossible to come by, sometimes — worthiness, and belief. 'who am i, ava, if not... this?'

you remember a book you'd read a few months ago, one of mary's favorites, that had made you cry often — where does it all lead? what will become of us? these were our young questions, and young answers were revealed. it leads to each other. we become ourselves. it's easy, to kiss the faithful gold band on her ring finger and then take her in your arms, put a protective hand to the back of her head. 'you're a fucking miracle,' you pray into her skin. 'you're the love of my life. you're a genius, and a black belt, and someone who avidly watches reality tv and tennis, only one of which is worthy of that kind of devotion.' you feel her laugh, snotty, into your shoulder. 'you're so pretty, and so handsome, and really funny when you want to be and sometimes even when you don't. you're remarkably forgiving; an incredible friend, a wonderful sister. you're someone who surfs because the ocean is beautiful and you want to see the sunrise. you're a very hot lesbian, and you're my fiance, and you're going to be my wife. you're my life partner. you give the world so much more than it has ever, ever deserved.' you both back up, just so you can look into her eyes. you hold her face in your hands, as gently as you can, run your thumb along a cheekbone, the constellation of freckles there that have bloomed in the sun by the sea. 'you will always serve the world, i know that about you. you're a child of god,' you say. 'you're beatrice.'

it doesn't surprise you when she kisses you gently and then tucks her face into your neck and lets out a full body sob. you rub her back through it, hold her up when her legs grow weak. eventually, as she always does, she calms and composes herself, steps back and dries her tears, runs a hand along her hair. her eyes are red but she takes a deep, steadying breath.

'thank you.'

you kiss her cheek. 'you're also my favorite.'

'now that i do know.'

you grin. 'don't get me wrong, like, fuck the military industrial complex obviously, but this is kind of a look.'

she rolls her eyes but her shoulders settle and then she looks at you seriously. 'i want to live a long life.'

'yeah?'

'so badly.'

'it's a little scary, right?'

she lets out a shaky, honest breath. 'yeah.'

'well, we'll figure it out.' you kiss her, the first of a kind stretching out ahead of you, infinite. 'i have an idea?'

she sighs, and you can't help but laugh.

(you watch her slice a plum on the shore of the lake in the alps you used to train at all those years ago, the lake you knelt down in front of her and she agreed to be your wife. the fruit is juicy and a color you can't quite bring yourself to comprehend: blood, your favorite sangria at the beach, natal dahlias. the house you stay at now — a few quiet days before you head home — is small and gorgeous, with a giant bed and a wall of windows that overlook the mountains. i love you here, you tell her — i love you like this; i love you however you are meant to be — i love you in peacetime, and you watch her slice a plum, the juice red and sticky on her fingers. she puts it to your mouth gently and the taste explodes like a kiss. she smiles and you feed her too; she sucks your finger into her mouth and you close your eyes — there will be time enough to touch her later. the water is calm, and the flowers are in bloom, and the sun shines bright.)

[livsspecialinterests]

hi lads quick question are there any coping strategies for when it's too warm at night and the sound of the fan you use sometimes dowsnt bother you but sometimes cant be drowned out, and your partner snores (sometimes right fucking next to your head!!) and every single strategy people try to suggest is already something you do?? if one more person tries to "just use earplugs, they really work!" me I'm going to lose it.

basically it's 4:50 AM I've been awake since 3 and have to be up anyway in less than an hour so I've just got up to do my skincare stuff and might try to write for half an hour.

I've been on the whole sleeping better since starting ADHD meds, maybe that's why I react so strongly to having a shit nights sleep now. Like I work weird hours and have a decent number of days off between shifts for the next few weeks but just because I can sleep in some days doesn't mean its okay that I spend half of the night awake??

and my husband doesn't mean to snore, obviously, and he sleeps downstairs on the sofa if it's been a few nights where he's been snoring badly so I'm not even directly complaining about him but I know the shit effect that long term sleep deprivation has on people's health, let alone how fucking annoying it is in general to lie there listening to someone REALLY LOUDLY sleeping for hours on end and then needing to get up at 5:45 AM for work

I know it's partially an issue of my mood regulation but jesus fucking christ if lying awake for hours/drifting in and out of sleep/dragging myself downstairs to sleep on the sofa doesnt make me want to kill myself literally nothing does (and don't get me fucking STARTED on the process I have to follow in getting changed, moving my pillows downstairs etc because the sofa is "dirty" and my pillows are supposed to be "clean", yes I probably have OCD but I've never managed to get anyone to take it seriously so I just deal with it)

like my poor husband if he wakes up while I'm on my way downstairs says I'm really mean and like... yeah? my tone is a mixture of being pissed off that I've not slept AGAIN, trying to not cry because insomnia is something I've been dealing with since I've been a literal child, and also trying to not just flat out tell him that I want to die because I know he knows its hyperbole/something that I say in the moment to try to express my distress but I know it worries him when I talk like that so I don't want to do that

(though he will now check with me before saying he's had a bad night's sleep, since for him a bad night means he maybe woke up a few times before going right back to sleep ie he slept for like 7 hours but it wasn't great quality sleep, whereas for me a bad night is getting maybe an hour or two, interspersed with rage/sadness/loneliness/anxiety)

[goldenwolf0821]

Vi had been feeling off all week. It had started with morning sickness, starting her day with her head in the toilet, throwing up last nights dinner into the bowl, with Caitlyn gently rubbing her back. After the first time, both of them thought it was a cold, so Caitlyn kept a close eye on Vi's condition throughout the day, though nothing changed. After the thrid and fourth time, Caitlyn decided to not cook the dishes anymore, thinking that it was something in the food causing her Wife to be sick. But even with other dishes, Vi still woke up the next morning running to the bathroom, and holding in a gag.

Then it was the random bouts of vertigo causing Vi to lean against the desks head down trying to ward it off, or agaisnt the wall while on missions. Caitlyn helped the best she can, worried on what was happening to her partner. Finally Caitlyn had Vi get checked by a doctor after almost falling off the roof when a random bout of vertigo hit. Vi was luckily quick on her feet and caught the edge of the roof before she fell, but Caitlyn called enough. Though the doctor didn't seem to be much help, and instead just prescribed her some meds.

A week later and Vi had enough. She was annoyed at the morning sickness and vertigo, and a recent symptom of sensitive to certain smells. She had an inkling on what it could be, though she didn't think much of it as she headed to the store. Caitlyn was at work, letting Vi take the day off to hopefully recuperate and relax, so she didn't have to worry about her wife being worried. After she bought what she needed, embarrassed but needed, she headed home.

She stood in the bathroom in a tank top and shorts, deciding to change into comfortable clothes and stared down at her purchase. If she was truly what she thought then how would Caitlyn react. Would she think the brawler had cheated on her? Would she yell and kick her out to the curb and divorce her? It took Vi a painfully long time to notice she was shaking, and it was only until warm water hit her hand did she realize she was crying to. Hastily wipping away the tears she tore open the package, unable to wait any longer.

It was around dinner time when Caitlyn finally got off. Her mind was on a certain brawler back home, the worry never fully leaving. She knew Vi could take care of herself, she never doubted that after finding her in Prison, but she still couldn't help but worry. In the way home she stopped by the couple's favorite soup stand and ordered their usuals. The guy behind the counter greeted her and started working humming softly. Before long Caitlyn was heading to the apartment again, this time geared with food. She had to put down the bag to dig the keys from her pocket and stood confused when all the lights but one were out.

A sliver a light reached from behind the bedrooms door, faint but bright amoung the dark apartment. Putting the bags on the counter, after closing the door, Caitlyn made her way to the bedroom. Upon pushing it open, she saw the bedroom was dark, the light from the bathroom lighting up some of the room. Standing over the counter, eyes on something, stood the brawler in question. As Caitlyn approached Vi made no movement or noise that she heard her, so she wa ready for the punch launched at her face from the brawler, when she hugged Vi from behind.

"Ca-Cait?" The uncertainty in the brawlers voice had Caitlyn frowning lightly, though she hid it as she tried to peak over the brawler to see the counter. "Hey babe.. why are you in here..?" Caitlyn said softly, frowning again when Vi hastily moved the object on the counter. "J-just thinking.. how was work love?" Vi spoke alittle too quickly, as she turned in chairs arms to kiss her softly. Caitlyn chuckled and kissed her back. "It was fine.. Ekko and Powder stopped by to tell me to tell you that they got an apartment together. They said they called you but you never picked up." Vi frowned at that and walked out of the bathroom to grab her phone.

"I didn't have my phone on me all day.. I'll have to call them later and apol-" Vi froze in the doorway of the bathroom, when she saw Caitlyn holding what she had been trying to hide. Caitlyn turned her gaze to Vi curiosity clear in her gaze. "Vi? Is this?" Vi swallowed loudly and looked away, giving a slight nod. "Wh-what..? How did? When?" Caitlyn started mumbling, putting the test on the counter and fully facing the brawler. "Your pregnant?" Vi just nodded again, her eyes trained on the ground. She flinched as Caitlyn moved closer then looked up confused as Caitlyn hugged her. "Wh-what..? You're not mad..." vi stuttered hugging her wife back, though hesitantly. "Of course not! I mean I'm confused sure, but this is amazing news Vi!" Caitlyn said smiling happily. "It actually makes so much more sense with the symptoms you've been having.. but one question on my mind is how...?"

"Before you say anything no I didn't cheat on you!" Vi said frantically, eyes widening as she tried to defend herself. "Vi, I never thought that love, your fine I promise." Caitlyn grabbed Vi's hand softly and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "We-well.. remeber a couple months ago I had left early for something..." At Caitlyn's nod she continued. "We-we'll.. I went to Jayce and Viktor, they had came up with some sort of thing that takes both parents dna and combined to make a kid? I can't remeber the full thing.. but I asked if they could for us.. and they agreed so..." Caitlyn stood shocked before she hugged Vi again tightly. "Oh my god this is amazing love! If it has both of us in him/her.. oh Vi!" Vi stood shocked, but thankful that Caitlyn hadn't dumped her. Hugging Caitlyn back tightly she felt a smile grow on her face.

Both couldn't wait to meet their little bundle. 

[ready-to-read7]

Rottmnt Raph x Kraken reader (Part 4)

Once they reach the layer Raph immediately took you to the med Bay, after he put you down, he turned to his brothers and started spouting commands, his brothers followed what he said mainly because what he was asking for was manageable but also because they could hear the fear and stress in his voice and they want to help.

Leo helped Raph tend to your injuries, Donnie went to his lab to analyse the sample of acid he got and Mikey went to go get one of Raphs  hoodies, because raph told him to.

After Raph and Leo bandaged you up and tended to your wounds, Mikey came in and gave raph the hoodie, Raph took the hoodie and put it over you so that you are at least covered.

 As soon as you fell asleep Raphs brothers took him to the living room  and asked him who you were.

Raph hesitantly says “ their name is reader and they are my partner’.

Leo, Mikey and Donnie stand in shock but before any of them can say something April comes in and says “you are dating someone”. all four of them was shocked to see their big sister there, but before anyone could respond to what she said splinter came out of the TV room  and said “who is dating someone who’s going to potentially give me grandkids”.

Raphs entire face turned bright red to the mention of kids,

Raph shyly   raised his hand and said I’m the one with a partner.

April immediately ran up to Raph and started asking him questions like how long have you two been dating, what are they like, how did you meet them, what’s their favorite food, and so on.

Raph gently pushes April back and tells her that she can ask all those questions later he’s currently not in the mood, for one  Raph was to concern for your well-being to even think of anything else.

He told his older sister “April I’m happy to see you again and I would be happy to introduce you to my partner, but they are severely injured and I just want to be at their side right now”

Everyone looked at Raph and nodded their heads, splinter then put his hand on Raphs arm and told him that they can discuss all of this later, and made a gesture that told Raph he was allowed to check on his partner.

Raph smiled at his father nodded his head and  quickly head back to the med Bay.

After a few hours you woke up still in a lot of pain but much better than what you were before.

You then explained everything to Raph and he understood but was still upstate that you took that type of risk and hurt yourself so severely, you then emphasized on the fact that you were half Kraken meaning you would have never died from the acid since it is  made by the one half of your species, and that it would’ve been more fatal if he fell in it.

He seemed to understand more especially after Donnie came in and confirmed what you said, but he still told you not to take risks like that, he didn’t like seeing you get hurt.

 You smiled at his genuine  concern and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

You then spent the rest of the day answering questions from his family.

part 1, 2, 3,

[alaskan-wallflower]

i’m sorry i keep venting but i swear this is my lowest. and i don’t really have any other way to filter it out because it’s like it’s consuming me and i can’t get it out of my head and i don’t wanna relapse again so. tw for self harm, sa mentions and suicide (i’m not gonna do anything but things will be mentioned.

today has been absolute hell. i don’t know why but the ask from this morning has me all jumpy or whatever. i just feel sick. i dunno. i guess i deserve it. i deserve to feel this way. i deserve what happened to me because i hurt people. i don’t like to say i was assaulted because i was young when it happened (8-12y/o or so) and it just kinda feels like i don’t have a right to say that because it wasn’t that much. like my grandpa used to slap me on the ass. he touched my chest area once or twice but that was it. but he did that to a lot of people. and i dunno. i feel like i can’t call it assault because it wasn’t. he didn’t know what he was doing because he had alzheimer’s and was demented. i dunno. i wish he was nicer. he used to scream at me and my brothers a lot. he made us cry and hide a lot too. he wasn’t very nice. but he’s still family and i have to love him. and i thought i was over it but the stupid ask from this morning just had me like…i dunno. feeling weird.

i suppose i deserved it. if i told my family they would tell me im being a dramatic attention seeker. so i guess that’s what im being. but i dunno. i hate complaining about this stuff because it doesn’t do anything. but still. and the shit about my brother doesn’t bother me as much. he was probably joking around or whatever when he was touching my clothes. it’s blurry now. but it’s whatever. i deserve this all. i deserve it. and i keep telling myself that.

i relapsed last night. for the first time in about nine months. i had one of the worst mental breakdowns of my life. i was just stuck on the bathroom floor crying while i relapsed. it wasn’t that bad. i shouldn’t count it as s/h. it never broke skin. or well; that much at least. i don’t even know hat happened, i was just thinking for too long and i ended up spiraling. i thought about ending it last night while taking my meds because i was thinking about how easy it would’ve been. i deserve it. but i was thinking like…i dunno. running from this won’t do anything. so i guess i have to face it myself.

every time i hear my mom tell me im a loyal friend, or that im kind, or whatever, all i can think about is how many people i’ve hurt. and it’s just become my life now. i hardly sleep. i either don’t eat or i eat til i feel like throwing up. i feel like there’s no escape and i did this all to myself. i wish i could turn back time. i do. but i cant. i wish that i could tell my past self what a fucking idiot she was. i don’t want to keep fighting this. i wanna be happy. but i feel like i can’t do anything.

everyone says im just doing ‘good’. good in school, in clubs, in whatever. but good isn’t great. and i need to be great. i need to be exceptional. i need to be exemplary. i need to be the best. that’s always where my mind is at. and if i’m not the best, i’m nothing. and i am nothing. i will always be nothing. because i can’t get off my lazy ass to do anything productive so i either drown myself in work or i do nothing but waste time holed up in my room because there’s something wrong with me and i can’t turn it off.

i’m scared. but i deserve to be scared. i deserve all of this and all of what’s to come. i don’t even think it’s because of friend issues either anymore. i just finally woke up and realized how meaningless everything i do is. because i’m not a good friend. i’m not a good sister. i’m not a good partner. i’m not anything. i’m not the best and when i’m not the best, i’m nothing.

[rosesoutofbounds]

Observe - Yandere!Liquid Snake x Male!Reader

Summary: Snake has been resisting torture, so when Liquid finds his partner, he gets a couple of ideas

Words: 2,843

Content warning: Rape/non-con, anal sex, fingering, voyeurisms, humiliation, degradation, reader has AMAB anatomy

Reader pronouns: He/Him

AN: First post on the blog, so I'm kind of nervous. Also, I know this is out of left field, but people keep saying "be the fanfiction you want to see in the world, so FUCK IT. Here's Liquid being a douchebag, then railing the reader. 🌹

2 hours had passed since Snake first woke up in chains. Ocelot’s electroshock torture had lost its novelty after a while, and after about a half hour, and not a single word from Snake about the location of the supposed other two PAL cards, it seemed like Ocelot had gotten bored. Since then, he’d had about an hour and a half to ponder. Meryl had been captured as well, but what about Y/N, the man he’d met in Otacon’s laboratory? He’d left him in the med lab, with the assurance that he would be back within 30 minutes. Had he also gotten captured, or was he holding up? Just one more reason to get out of here as soon as possible.

The door slid open, and Snake’s blue eyes narrowed with caution as he saw Liquid Snake, his genetic twin, step through the door, dragging a smaller, slimmer male by the arm. Snake swore. Y/N L/N, one of the last survivors of the Shadow Moses staff. He didn’t appear to be hurt, but his arms were bound behind his back with a pair of handcuffs, and he was barefoot.

“Y/N…” Snake breathed “Are you ok?”

“I’ve been worse.” He responded. “You look like death, Snake.”

“I feel like death.” He craned his head to look at Liquid. “So… what do you want?”

Y/N felt a low rumble of laughter from the man behind him, and felt the grip on his arm pull him closer into his chest. It was unsettling to be the captive of Liquid, as he looked practically identical to Snake with the same sharp blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and athletic build. If it weren’t for the long blonde hair, and strong British accent they would be virtually identical.

“Well, apparently Ocelot wasn’t able to get anything out of you, so I figured I’d try a method of my own after we found your friend hiding in the med lab.” His voice held an arrogant and cruel tone. “Such a pretty boy, a real diamond in the rough. I’m surprised you managed to hide him away as long as you did, but to be fair, if I had a pet like this, I wouldn’t want to share him either.”

“What’s the point of this?” Y/N asked through gritted teeth. “Are you going to torture me or what?”

“Hmm… not quite. See, I happen to be looking for some PAL cards. They’re fairly valuable to me, since they control the locks to Metal Gear Rex. I can’t exactly have you two running around them, but since my brother has ardently refused to hand them over quietly, you’re going to help me find them.”

“He doesn’t know where they are, Liquid.” Snake said. “You’re wasting your time.”

“I know he won’t tell me.” Liquid responded, running a finger across Y/N’s bottom lip. “You will.”

Liquid suddenly shoved the young man harshly to knees on the cold concrete floor, and dropped a knee on the center of his back, propping his clothed rear in the air. “Here’s what’s going to happen here, little brother. You’re going to tell me where the other card keys are…”

His fingers coiled around Y/N’s locks, lifting his head just a couple inches above the ground.

“…or I am going to fuck the brains out of this pretty little thing right in front of you.”

“You wouldn’t!” Snake hissed, fruitlessly tugging at the metal restraints that kept his body upright. “Damnit Liquid, why not just torture me?”

“Simple.” the blonde responded, running a hand down Y/N’s side. “You can take any punishment we throw at you. He can’t. So what’s it going to be? Are you going to tell me where those cards are, or will you just watch as I fuck your partner?”

“Snake, you better not tell that asshole a damn thing-” Y/N groaned, but was cut off when a gloved hand squeezed around his windpipe. Liquid groaned at the feeling of the young man’s breath catching in his throat. He thrashed weakly, but with his hands cuffed behind him, and a knee on his back, his range of motion was pitifully limited, just what Liquid wanted. 

“Last call, brother.”

Snake, as much as it hurt him, stayed quiet. Y/N shot him a quick look of encouragement. Three seconds went by before Liquid gave a fake sigh of disappointment. 

“I see your choice has been made, but just remember as I’m splitting Y/N open on my cock, that this is entirely your fault.”

Liquid slowly removed his gloves, dropping them on the ground just by Y/N’s head. Then, without a moment of warning, Liquid savagely tore the threadbare shirt away from his body. Y/N gasped as the sting of cold arctic air washed across his skin, raising lines of gooseflesh across his body. Liquid ran his uncovered hands across every inch of exposed skin, across his hips, up his abdomen, across his pecs. His fingers stopped to tease the perfectly pert nipples eliciting a silenced whine from the smaller man. The reaction from such small stimulation had blood rushing to Liquid’s groin. He could already feel his erection staining in his pants, and he’d barely gotten started. With a single push, he shoved down Y/N’s pants and boxers, tossing them aside, and finally getting a look at what lay underneath.

Y/N felt a shiver run down his spine as a gust of cold air came into contact with his exposed lower body, and another when the warmth of Liquid’s hands ran over the smoothness of his ass, the rough texture on his sensitive skin, and the possessive squeeze that accompanied it, making the younger man gasp.

Snake flinched as the last trace of clothing was removed from Y/N’s body. He couldn’t deny that he was attractive, and had often imagined what he might look like if they’d made it out of Shadow Moses, and gotten some time by themselves, to finally see him in all his glory, to see him given all the pleasure he deserved after such an ordeal. But this was the last way he wanted this to happen.

“Flawless…” Liquid breathed. With a sadistic grin on his face, he turned to the petrified Snake. “And judging from the lack of additional marks, I’m guessing you didn’t get a chance to take him before I did.”

He squeezed down roughly on one of Y/N’s asscheeks.

“How about it sweetheart?” Liquid hissed in Y/N’s ear, licking a stripe from the nape of his neck to the base of his ear. “How would you like to have had my brother bend you over and break you in by force? Did you ever tease him with this slutty ass of yours?”

Y/N kept in a retort, biting down harshly on his lip to hold back any reaction as Liquid latched onto his neck, sucking at the sensitive spot. Liquid growled at the young man’s efforts of silence, slapping his ass hard, the snap ringing around the room. Y/N couldn’t help but cry out, and in the moment of weakness, Liquid forced his fingers into his open mouth, effectively gagging him.

“Suck.” He ordered. “Unless you want me to prepare you dry.”

Y/N obediently ran his tongue over the thick digits invading his mouth, coating them with as much saliva as he could before they were removed. Y/N visibly flinched as he felt one of Liquid’s fingers probing at his ass, teasingly circling the tight ring of muscle before pushing in. The intrusion wasn’t painful, but it was so unlike anything Y/N had ever felt, that he couldn’t help but cry out. This did not go unnoticed by Liquid, who laughed cruelly.

“A virgin whore…” he cooed. “My lucky day.”

Before long, a second finger had forced its way into Y/N ass, scissoring him open with quick motions. Y/N tried to regulate his breathing, keeping his eyes on the bright ceiling lights, doing his best to try and ignore the violation of his body. His eyes drifted over to Snake’s, wide with horror, still struggling to break free from his unmoving restraints. Y/N’s cheeks darkened with shame, and he looked away, back to the searing fluorescent lamps that illuminated the room, and for a moment, he almost succeeded in fleeing from the reality behind him, until a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through his body. His hips jerked forward, and a choked moan split from his mouth.

“Found it…”

“What- what are you- a-ah!”

Liquid’s rough fingers started mercilessly abusing the smaller male’s prostate, drawing out moans with blunt stabs that made his legs shake, and his tearing eyes see stars, bringing Y/N’s cock to full hardness in only a few moments. Liquid’s other hand started teasing his erect dick, running his fingers up the length of his cock, rubbing a bead of precum forming over the tip, flushed red, forcing a broken cry out of Y/N. This pleasure being forced on him, he didn’t know it could feel this good. Just as Y/N was sure he was reaching his limit the fingers torturing his prostate were removed, and his body was flipped on his back. He hissed as the cold floor met his flushed skin. He tried to use his bound hands to push himself back up, but was discouraged when Liquid’s boot pressed down on his sternum.

“Be good, and I might be gentle with you.” 

He pulled off his long brown coat, revealing a perfectly sculpted body beneath it. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he heard the click of a belt being unbuckled. 

“Keep your eyes on me, darling.” He grinned, his blue eyes soaking in the sight below him. Y/N’s naked body on full display, flushed and trembling, hair matted with sweat, and cock standing tall. It was picturesque. He was ashamed that he hadn’t brought a camera to capture the moment.

“Liquid stop!” Snake's voice rang out, showing true fear for the first time since Y/N met him. “Don’t do this, I’m begging you!”

“If you want me to stop, then give me the keycards.” Liquid sneered. “Or I’m just going to go with plan A.”

Y/N weakly shook his head. They both knew what was at stake if they let him have what he wanted. A nuclear warhead straight for the heartland of America wasn’t something they could allow, even if it meant being used as a fucktoy for Liquid’s amusement. 

With blinding speed, Liquid had freed his straining erection from the confines of his pants, and much to Y/N’s horror, it was massive. He knew that Liquid didn’t care whether he could take it or not. Liquid straddled Y/N’s waist, tilting his chin upwards to force their eyes to meet. 

“Don’t you dare look away from me.” He warned. “Or I’ll make this a much worse experience for you, my little virgin whore.”

He sat up, and with two strong hands, lifted Y/N’s legs, pushing them to his chest, exposing his hole. He pressed the blunt tip of his massive rod to the unyielding muscle. Panic set in once again, and Y/N desperately tried to wriggle away. Liquid’s eyes darkened, and his grip on his thighs tightened.

“The more you fight, the more I’ll make this hurt.” Liquid growled. “I’d rather you enjoy this, but I can always do this the hard way.”

Y/N’s head thudded against the ground as his struggle stopped. 

“Good boy. Now… relax.”

That was the only warning before he pushed his way inside. Y/N cried out with a mixture of pain and pleasure. He felt like he was being torn apart. He involuntarily thrashed against the dick buried deep in his insides, filling him up like no-one else could, but a hand caging his throat stopped any attempts of rebellion.

“So tight…” Liquid grunted. Buried to the hilt in his constricting heat, begging to be ruined, he turned his gaze down the trophy he’d stolen, eyes blown wide with powerful stimulations that only he could bring. He pulled out until just his tip was left inside, then slammed down, thrusting hard into the velvety feeling of Y/N ass. His pace began slowly, but quickly ramped up as his ass began to accept the cock pushing in and out. Y/N could no longer hide his moans and cries, spilling from his lips as each furious thrust hit deeper than the last, brushing up against his oversensitive prostate with each movement. While Y/N was falling to his own body’s reactions, Liquid was on cloud 9. Seeing his shaft disappear into Y/N’s ass, the feeling of his neck beneath his hands, the pathetic whimpers of pleasure that came with every thrust, it was all perfect. He’d wanted to do this from the moment he’d laid eyes on him in the medical office, and while obviously this was a means to an end, the true prize was fucking Snake’s partner before he could. Maybe Y/N didn’t realize it yet that Snake was in love with him, but that just made it better, and the horrified expression on Snake’s face said enough. Snake couldn’t take another second. Watching his partner being raped and humiliated by a brother he’d barely met was too much for the mercenary to take.

“Stop it!” He shouted. “I’ll tell you everything, just stop!”

Liquid heeded his brother’s words, slowing his thrusts to a lazy, languid rolling of his hips. 

“Took you long enough.” He huffed. “Now then, the other key cards. Where are they?”

Snake’s head slumped, as he told Liquid of the shape changing card, how it could respond to different temperatures to form other keys, which would unlock the controls to the Metal Gear. Liquid had a triumphant smile on his face as the information was disclosed. 

“I knew you would see reason eventually.” He drawled. “I knew a patriotic champion such as yourself couldn’t stand to see your partner being hurt.”

Y/N sighed in relief, believing that his torment was finally at an end. His hopes died when a devilish grin crossed Liquid’s face.

“But unfortunately for you, like most Americans, you are incredibly stupid.”

Liquid’s hands seized Y/N’s hips, and snapped his cock back into him, starting up again harder and faster than before. Y/N cried out in the sudden stimulation, pleasure that came so suddenly that bordered on painful, fruitlessly trying to fight back against the sensations that overwhelmed his body.

“There’s no point.” Liquid cackled. “You’re not getting away from me, so just lie back like a good boy, and fucking take it.”

“You said- you would- stop…” Y/N gasped out between thrusts.

“I lied.” He laughed sadistically. “Did you really think I would let you go without blowing my load in this tight little ass at least once?”

“Liquid!” Snake screamed with anger and sorrow. “I swear to god, I’ll kill you for this!”

“You can try… but right now, I’m too busy to care.”

Liquid bucked into the helpless male below him, and slid his hand down to his hard dick, pumping it in time with his thrusts. The feeling of his ass clenching down on Liquid’s pistoning cock, and the sight of his shaft sliding in and out of Y/N’s glistening hole was enough to drive him out of his mind.

“This is mine.” He snarled. “You are mine. Even if you make it out of here, if you run to the farthest reaches of the world, you will always belong to me.”

Y/N couldn’t fight it any longer. With the pressure on his prostate, the hand on his cock, and the degrading words in his ears, the coil snapped, and he came hard, ropes of white coating his chest, and as he did, Liquid’s lips crashed into his own, stealing a kiss that wasn’t his to take, and slamming deep and, shooting his own load in Y/N’s ass. After a few moments, he pulled away from the smaller man’s limp body, dragging his massive shaft out of the abused hole, watching as it continued to spasm even after his orgasm was long over

“Slutty little ass… clenching down on nothing.” he sneered, giving it one last slap before he went to retrieve his discarded clothing. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’m not done with you yet.”

For Y/N, the world was nothing but haze. He could only dimly register the feeling of Liquid pulling out, the sticky feeling of his own release over his body, and the hushed whispers of Snake, telling him how sorry he was. He flinched as he felt a pair of strong arms picking him off the ground, and a coat being pushed over his shoulders as he was carried out of the room.

“All mine…” he heard Liquid whisper as he lost consciousness. “I’ll make sure you never get away.”

[rianafying]

hello diary i’m back idk what is happening or why i ever feel what i feel, but here goes nothing

i’ve been feeling very creative today, had a terrible morning woke up insanely dehydrated, could barely move, my arthritis and psoriasis had flared up as well, i had to cancel my gig but they’re fine, they had other people on board. i don’t really feel like i missed out because i literally couldn’t have gone and needed to stay home and rehydrate, plus it’s like 37 degrees outside, i’ll stay home thanks. anyway, so i got some much needed rest and i ate and drank loads of water and i feel replenished now and i feel hopeful and creative and i wish i could’ve just started something, a project or whatever. but i have no many chores standing firmly between me and what i actually want to do. will is a terribly difficult thing to conjure. i had a telehealth appointment to get diagnosed w adhd in melbourne so i can access the necessary treatment, but they’re telling me it’ll be at least $800 and at least 4 sessions to just get diagnosed. and that to me is a huge undertaking. i told them ill think about it but what is there to think of, i know fully well i cant afford it. i wish i had an ipad to draw on. ive been wanting to draw something for ages and i could draw on my physical sketch book but i just haven’t? i just cant? its the guilt from all the chores i haven’t done. there’s a proper inspection due in 4 days and i just know it’s going to cripple me with anxiety as the date comes closer. there’s so much stuff that i want to do. and yet i do nothing. i’m not doing even 1% of everything i want to do, because im stuck doing 100% of the things i hate but have to do. when im older, i hope i get permanent residency in australia or any other first world country, i wish i have a safe and permanent place to live, regardless of size or quality. i wish i have someone who can help me with the tasks i struggle with and i can help them with tasks they struggle with and if we both struggle at the same things, we’ll understand each other, we can struggle and learn together. hopefully this will not be a romantic partner because i don’t think my brain is hardwired to deal with matters of the heart in a stable way. i hope that by the time i feel safe, the children of gaza feel safe too. i hope we win. i thought of them when i got dehydrated and worried that ill get a uti, i thought about how much worse they have it. i think of them all the time but especially when im suffering and im reminded that they have it many folds worse. i try to derive hope, strength, and gratitude from that instead of helplessness, and powerlessness.

i haven’t been able to take out the trash and get rid of my dead plants and they’re starting to attract bugs and i really need to do that today, i’ve been saying that everyday, it’ll just take seconds. i also am very close to having $0 in my account because i had to buy some meds and i found some vitamins for half price and decided to buy a whole buttload of them #forhealthiguess also its SO HOT. and im trying to avoid turning on my air conditioner because my electricity bill last month was $140??? like why? it’s a crazy world out here. crazy expensive. for the millionth time, i really should get a real job soon. or try to. i doubt i’ll ever have enough to be independent. i fear i’ll always be at the mercy of my parents. i fear i’ll heal too slow to keep up with the damage.

all day i did nothing. that’s not true, i went grocery shopping and i made meatballs, and spaghetti and it turned out great. the one thing i always cook successfully is any kind of pasta, never fails. i feel 50% guilty for not doing anything important today. such as taking out the trash, cleaning my room, etc. it’s the one thing i hate doing: house chores. makes me wanna scream, cry and throw up. i made a mistake, last night i accidentally left my earphones on the couch at reception downstairs and hadn’t even realised until earlier today when i was leaving the building and saw it on the couch. i feel so relieved that i live in a place where nobody stole it all day. part of me feels like i don’t deserve to live so well. because for nearly a year, i have been living wonderfully, everything’s going so well, and all my demons are inside of my own head. this is new for me. there’s no actual threat, i think. still feels like there is. i’m less overwhelmed than usual, but still pretty overwhelmed. there’s always too many ideas and not enough ability to implement them. how do i feel chaos and clarity simultaneously. i just need a break from this mental torment. i think getting my apartment clean will definitely help with that. but it’s such a big task, even thinking about it makes me fall to my bed and start to rot. suddenly i find that my body won’t move. adhd sounds like it’s so quirky and funny until you’re surrounded with piles of garbage and flying insects and there is a mysterious sticky brown patch underneath the fridge that just will not move. until there’s no space to walk from one end of the room to the other without stepping on and crushing things underneath my feet. it feels as if my brain has acquired an endless supply of shame and guilt. i will probably not feel focused until my room is actually clean. clean enough to be inspected. clean enough to maybe even have visitors. i get anxious just thinking about the prospect.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Traveler's Guide to Yesterday

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam, Flash Rogues

Summary: Owen is stranded in his present (a time he's never been to) while traveling through the past in search of his soul mate. He needs a con artist's help to repair his timepiece and return to the past.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Owen Mercer, Axel Walker, Leonard Snart, Meloni Thawne, Evan McCulloch, Mark Mardon

Relationships: Owen Mercer/Axel Walker

Additional Tags: Time Travel AU, No Powers AU, Dysfunctional Family, Boys in Love, True Love, Soulmate, Con Artists, Strangers to Lovers, Partners in Crime, Romance, Amputee Axel Walker, Not Actually Unrequited Love

Chapter One: Med Pod

I woke up in a battered med pod, which meant something had gone horribly wrong. I pressed my hand against the glass, knocking it until I heard whirring from outside the machine. The incubation fluid spilled onto the floor, making a gelatinous noise as it hit the pavement. I shivered as the cool air blew against my skin. Someone removed the breathing apparatus, and I gasped, taking in the sour taste of their oxygen. I spilled out of the machine, naked and exhausted. I couldn't see. The med pod temporarily blinded me, but I could feel and hear everything around me. "I thought you fixed the drain in the old med pod," a man asked. His voice was deep and cold. Almost detached from his present state of affairs.

"I was gonna get to it but couldn't find the right parts. Couldn't make the pieces either... Not without boiling the gestation gel and the occupants inside. Get him a towel. He's probably freezing half to death," a younger, sardonic voice commanded.

"Don't get sharp with me, Kid... And his belongings better be accounted for when he's ready to leave," the older man warned. I felt a warm, rough fabric wrap around my bare skin, and I couldn't speak to tell him thank you. The words were lost on my tongue as my heart beat quickly. "Don't worry, Kid. Your senses'll come back in a few days or so... Old machine's busted," the older man reassured.

"Give him this before he gets sick," the younger voice warned.

I felt a gloved hand slip under my chin, tilting my head upward. "Open your mouth," the older man ordered gently. I obeyed and was immediately met with the taste of orange and corn syrup. It was a disgustingly viscous fluid that made me want to puke the second I tasted it, and the older man must've sensed that because he squeezed my nostrils shut. "Swallow... Swallow." He used the same tone a parent would for a difficult child.

"He couldn't spit that up if he tried, Len," the younger one reassured him.

"Just to be safe, I'll wait until he's got it down... All the stuff we found in this old med bay, and we couldn't scavenge some of the good meds," Len complained, "Axel, all this stuff is pond sludge."

"Pond sludge that saved his life. You're the one who wanted to keep the time fugitive," Axel muttered. Len let go of my nose, and I gasped for air.

"What makes you think he's a time fugitive? He might be somebody important," Len replied in my defense.

They were both right. I was a fugitive, but not necessarily a time fugitive. I had a bad habit of looking for love in all the wrong places. Having dalliances with men in times where it was outlawed. This last time, I thought it'd be it. I thought I'd found the one. Charming. Bookish. Blonde. Rich. He was perfect, and we got along pretty well for a few months. That was until the maid caught us, and he turned on me. His father fired a shot at me. That was the last thing I remembered. Pain. He betrayed me as if I was only a simple pleasure of the flesh. I could've understood it had he not convinced me otherwise. Had he not snuck into my bed at night to whisper poems in my ear or indulge in the smoke from my mouth while I smoked. He loved me... And that made his betrayal all the more raw.

I must've lost my senses because I woke up crying. This time, I was clothed in a fabric I'd never felt before. It was strange, yet comforting. I felt the pillows around me and soughed relief. "How long has it been since you stepped foot in your own time?" Axel asked.

Time sickness. It happened whenever time travelers made a drastic jump forward. I was experiencing my memories in real time while blacking out in my present. It was a lot like hallucinating, except the moments were real. It was the mind's way of skipping like a scratched CD.

I reached for Axel in the dark, and he squeezed my hand. His hand was smooth, artificially warm. Not like a glove. I let my fingers travel to his wrist, and he pulled away. "Do you want something to eat?" Axel asked. I nodded. I still couldn't speak. He opened a container, and I could smell the savory aroma of seafood. "It's all we have right now until I can get money for the repairs I did on the shop down the street."

He placed the cup and fork in my hands, and I bit into it, screwing up my face. "Squid's the only cheap meat we can get here now... Especially in this area," Axel explained. The texture was strange, but I couldn't see it. So, I ate.

But eating made me remember. Maine in nineteen-seventy-seven. I worked in a restaurant on the shore, and he was a regular customer. I tried to shake myself free from the time, but I was too deep into the memory. I could taste the clam bake and blueberry pie. I knew he wasn't the one but ignored all the signs. I slept on his boat, kicking myself in the morning for falling into bed with him again. He was wrong, but he felt so good.

Someone punched me, and I woke up. I shook my head, still in the dark. "It's two to this bed, buddy. Try to have a memory that doesn't make me wanna take a green med pac," Axel complained. I ran a hand over my face, embarrassed and flushed from my memory. I turned on my side and tried to sleep. "You must've jumped two hundred years forward when you got shot..."

My breath caught, and I started choking. Shot. It never once occurred to me that I got hit. Axel rubbed my back until I relaxed. Fever. The time sickness shifted, and I was no longer in and out of consciousness. I'd reached the physical illness phase. Unlike most illnesses, time sickness had to run its course. There wasn't a cure for it. That's why time travelers rarely returned to their own times. The jump was enough to have a man bedridden for weeks. I shivered and violently trembled as Axel threw blankets over me. There was nothing else he could do. It had to run its course.

[mosscaller]

Today, I learned a harsh lesson..

It's going to sound odd, but due to how weird my transition has been ( I'm Agender and on Testosterone, about 3-4 years now. ) I have been getting the urge to have that feeling of accomplishment.

Ex: Putting a bookshelf together, or sometimes a desk.

Well, yesterday my Wife bought me a new chair ( my old one was causing me a lot of back problems. )

The chair is going to be my last chair for the rest of my life, it's made that well. So there will be no problems, ever.

However, since the chair is made to last. It means it's heavy, and requires more than one person to put it together. I ignored that…

It was the testosterone, and my own drive to put together my chair. I'm not allowed to do many things due to how badly a flare up hits me. ( I want to preface that I am not being abused or controlled. My partners just want to ensure that I don't over do it and end up in the hospital. )

They were watching me build it, and telling me to take breaks, drink some water and to hit my inhaler if I need to.

Well, it was put together and at the end of it I was wheezing. I sat down, and took a breather.

Everything is good-ish.

Last night the pain in my shoulders and lower back finally hit me. I started feeling pain in both my arms. So one of my partners helped put some lidocaine patches on and I took my meds.

But around 3am I kept waking due to a sharp pain in my shoulder that just kept getting worse. I finally got up around 7 and took my morning meds.

When one of my partners woke up, she helped me put some bio freeze on my shoulder and she said there was some serious bruising on my right shoulder. It hurts to move, and breathing is a chore.

When my partners wake up, I'll have one of them take me up to the hospital. I want to make sure nothing is torn.

Fibro makes everything worse, so I just want to be sure.

[fagnumopus]

Whay does it mean to have a good day? A good week? A good year? Or a bad one? How much does a stubbed toe count against a comforting cup of coffee? What measurements are we using, and what's the conversion rate of "good" and "bad"?

How many Goods make a good day, and how many Bads make a bad one?

Was it a bad day? Even if I woke up to a warm cup of coffee with my partner, even if I pet my cats and played with them, even if I went for a walk, even if I looked in the mirror and thought my hair looked nice?

What's the measure of a Bad Thing, and why does it feel like it's always so much heavier than a Good Thing?

How many bad days make a bad month?

What about the neutral things that just happen, too? Taking my meds. Doing the dishes. Working. Peeing. Showering. Are they truly neutral? Have I not succeeded at doing tasks that keep me healthy, safe, and comfortable? When I count my blessings against my curses, why don't I count the things I do nearly every day oh my life to ensure my well-being?

I feel like I count my curses like I count cards, and life is dealing me hand after hand, trying to tell me, "You're alive. You're alive. You're loved and full of love, too", and I don't believe it. I'm always gambling, I always feel like a stubbed toe is a royal straight flush and a good cup of coffee is just a 3 of spades. But maybe life's a little bit less like Poker and a little bit more like Go Fish.

Maybe every day can be a good day because I lived through it and came out the other side a little bit better, a little bit richer, a little bit wiser... and believing in love just a little bit more.