#i’m tired of feeling anxious and like i’ve ruined things with them when i just

[devil-in-hiding]

[letstripdotcom]

what’s wrong?- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n- not a song title but i hope you like. it’s definitely different than what i write.

summary: after a long week of being tired, overwhelmed, and sexually frustrated you can’t take it anymore, and you end up taking it out on your best friends.

warnings - slight argument, language, smut 🤺

-

fuck. i sigh getting close to the high i’ve been chasing all week. my chest heaves and i throw my head back being overcome with pleasure. “fuck fuck fuckkk” i whine when i can feel my stomach get tight. a bead of sweat drips down my forehead.

just as i get close my phone buzzes beside me. “fuck!” i yell. this was the closest i had been all week and it was ruined. i don’t know what was wrong with me, but i just couldn’t cum for some reason. i had tried everything i liked and it was really fucking with my mood.

i sigh as i answer the phone and head to the bathroom to wash my hands after what seems like the 1000th unsuccessful orgasm this week. “hello?” i say, putting it on speaker and setting it down next to me. “hey” nick spoke “me matt and chris are going to get food then go shopping and we were wondering if you wanted to come with.” “yeah i guess” i reply. “ok be there in 30. love you byeee” he hung up

the triplets arrived in 30 minutes just like nick said. i walked out to the van and went to the back seat as normal. i opened the door and my face was met with chris. “i saved you a spot in the front today” he smiled at me. i shut the door and walked to the front rolling my eyes. i don’t know what was wrong with me i was just really upset. well actually, i know exactly was wrong

“hey girllll” matt spoke as i got in the passenger. “matt” i deadpanned looking at him. “sorry” he said and backed out the driveway. i was silent for a while, ignoring the conversation the three were having.

“you okay?” matt asked squeezing my thigh, his cold rings causing me to shiver. “i’m fine” i said not looking at him. matt was without a doubt my best friend, but there were things he didn’t need to know, me not being able to orgasm being one of them. “you sure?” he looked at me “yes matt i’m fine!” i snapped “sorry” is all he said. the car went completely silent and it was like that the rest of the drive.

“i’m not really hungry” is all i said when we got to the restaurant. “y/n you have to eat something” nick said “oh my god i’m not starving myself i’m just not hungry right now!” i snapped at him as well. i sighed as i sat back in my seat knowing i fucked up.

i was an anxious mess for the rest of the day. i didn’t talk at all and i couldn’t stop shaking. “hey it’s okay” matt reassured me on the way home. i half smiled at him. he handed me is hand and i fidgeted with his rings. it was stupid, but it always helped when i was anxious.

i bit my lip trying not to cry for the rest of the car ride. when we pulled into my driveway, my first thought was to get out of the car and run inside, but i wouldn’t forgive myself if i did. “look guys i don’t know what’s wrong with me i’m really sorry.” my lip quivered and tears brimmed my eyes “thanks for inviting me” i closed the door and hurried inside.

-

matt’s pov

after i got home, i couldn’t stop thinking about y/n. she told me everything and she was never upset like this. i honestly felt bad about leaving her alone. i called her phone twice, but i didn’t get an answer. she lives alone and has no one to talk to. if i let her be alone, i wouldn’t forgive myself.

i told nick and chris where i was going then i left. i got in the van and hurried to her house. i knocked on the door a couple times but she didn’t answer. i knew i was being invasive, but i took the key from under the plant where she always kept it, and i opened the door, locking it back after i got in.

“y/n?” i called out for her. no reply. i walked up to her room. as i lifted up my hand to knock, i heard her sobs on the other end of the door. i opened the door with caution. “y/n?” i looked down to see her on her bed, in only her underwear and a tank top. her head was buried into the pillow, and she sobbed. “oh my god y/n are you okay?”

i sat down on the edge of the bed. “hey y/n talk to me please” she sat up and buried her face into my chest. she engulfed me in a hug and kept crying. i ran my hand through her hair, and my other one rubbed circles on her back. “it’s okay” i reassured her

-

y/n’s pov

i felt so weak crying for such a stupid reason, but i just couldn’t help it. “are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” matt asked. “i can’t matt i just can’t” i cried. “cmon y/n you can tell me anything” i just cried even more. i’ve never felt so pathetic.

“i-it’s so stupid i can’t” i said between sobs. “y/n i swear i would never judge you.” he patted my back softly. i took a breath and sat up to look at him. “it’s so stupid you have to promise not to laugh” i looked at him. “i swear i won’t.” he put his hands up in surrender. “pinky promise?” i held out my pinky. “y/n is this 3rd grade” he laughed locking pinkies with mine. “ok that was so corny” i laughed

“ok let’s get serious” he said. i let out a long breath “i c-can’t umm” i sighed “i can’t cum.” his eyebrows furrowed. “i know that’s tmi but you asked and i really can’t and i haven’t been able to all week and i’ve tried everything and it’s really frustrating and-“ i stopped myself when i noticed i was rambling. i looked at him with an embarrassed expression as i waited for a reply.

“oh” he replied. i dropped my head in embarrassment “would you- would you want me to like help you?” i snapped my head up to look at him. “i’m sorry i overstepped” he sighed. “no” i said. “could you help me? please?” i asked. “you sure?” he looked at me. i nodded. “just relax and i’ll do all the work okay?” “ok” “and if you need me to stop at any time just let me know and i will” “thank you so much matt you really don’t have to do this.”

“thank me later” he smirked before kissing me. he look his time on the kiss, making it as hot but as sweet as possible. his hands glided up my body starting at my waist and coming up to squeeze my tits. i moaned into the kiss. he continued to massage my breasts while he started to work his mouth down my jaw, to my neck, and then to the exposed skin on my chest.

he then moved his hands under my top, and he pulled it off, freeing my bare chest. he latched his mouth onto one of my nipples, making me wetter than before. i’ve known matt for so long and never knew he was so good at this kind of stuff.

his hands moved down to the waistband of my underwear, playing with it before he pulled them off completely and tossing them to the side. every movement he made was so gentle but so attractive.

he then took two of his fingers and rubbed them up and down my folds, spreading around my juices. i slightly grinded down onto his hand. i tired not to be too needy, but i needed his touch so badly. “you ready for me to touch you?” he looked me in my eyes. “please matt” i whined.

he stuck his fingers inside of me, pumping in and out at the perfect pace making me moan. his thumb met my clit, rubbing it in fast circles, causing more stimulation. i arched my back off of the bed and moaned uncontrollably. “fuck mattttt” i whined. “you’re doing so good for me” he said softly. “oh god matt” i threw my head back.

“i’m wanna taste you” he said lowering his head between my legs. “can i taste you?” he asked. “yes matt please” before i could register, his mouth latched onto my clit. “oh my fuck matt! oh my god” i couldn’t control my moans. “mattttt i’m so close please don’t stop.” he continued licking and sucking my clit, as he added in a finger, making the pleasure double.

“mattttt i’m cumming! oh my got im cumming” i cried out in a state of euphoria. i had tears of happiness running down my face, as my chest heaved. “thank you so much matt i owe you big time” he came up from between my legs and smiled at me. “feel better now?” he asked

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- i hope you liked!! lmk bc it was definitely different for me

[ashdreams2023]

Can I please request hcs for Loki x reader who experience nightmares? And maybe how he would react and help the reader ? :)

Loki x reader who has nightmares

It was something you were genuinely anxious about and made you rethink spending the night a million times

But all that needed to be dealt with since you were already moving in with him in the averagers compound

The first few nights were fine and you slept most of the night without any upsetting dreams

Then fourth night rolled, you were extra tired and went to bed early, the dream was suffocating and you felt like you couldn’t scream or that anyone can help you

You only woke up when Loki shook you awake, your eyes were watery and your body shaken

"It’s ok it’s ok, it’s only a bad dream"

You wanted to cry, because wtf is wrong with you?! You just had to ruin his this streak

Loki could tell you were still upset about the whole thing because the next night you offered to sleep somewhere else to not disturb him but he wouldn’t allow

You still had nightmares that night but he held you and did the same as the night before, caressed your head and let you calm down

The feeling of shame was something hard to get rid off but Loki was willing to help you not feel in such way

"I don’t know why they wouldn’t stop…I’m so sorry" "don’t be daft, you can not control your dreams"

He shares his own experience with nightmares, he explains how he used to wake up drenched in sweat and screaming

"We can try some things to calm you down, if it makes you feel better" 

"That would be…nice, thank you"

Loki introduced you to old Asgardian herbs, they calm your nerves and they tasted nice in the form of tea or you’ll add them to cakes and have it as a snack

You slept better, you still had nightmares but they were less aggressive

He rubbed your shoulders before bed with some oils and basically lulu you to sleep

Loki had his fair share of them too but he always woke up and looked down at you then sighed, he will curl up by your side and fall back to sleep

Also you wouldn’t know this but he places calming charms all over the bed

"I don’t think I’ve had this much peaceful sleep since I was like…forever?"

"Don’t think about it, I’m pleased to see my dove happy and well rested"

"Truly my knight in dark armor" "thank you for acknowledging my aesthetic"

[undercoverwizardninjaturtle]

This is a vent post, I just need to let something’s off my chest. There are a ton of trigger warnings

I’ve never felt so empty in my life. My last six months at my job screwed me up by trying to get me to quit screwed my mental wiring so bad that I almost can’t remember how to talk to other people. My christmas was so bad I now refer it to “my reverse scrooge christmas” cause i spent the whole time being yelled at and belittled, being insulted for my weight, my job and everything about me multiple times a day by my dad my sister was no better. I came home thinking I could go to work with enough time to find a new job but no after not being able to bully me into quitting they did it while I was gone, so now I’m on unemployment and government insurance. I tried to talk to my landlord to see “hey i can still resign up for another year right?” since i’ve been a good tenant but he hasn’t given me a answer yet so now there’s that i need to worry about. I’m applying for 30 jobs a week and hearing back from one maybe every other week. I’m in a constant state of anxiety and I can’t even talk to anyone about it cause i’m terrified of talking to my best friend at the moment because they have their own things going on right now and I can’t hurt them, I can’t ask my parents for help or even to vent to because i’ll be bullied into moving home which i will not survive. I thought I could take advantage of my new insurance and get top surgery but my doctor says i can’t because my BMI is just a weeee bit too high (even though BMI are out of date and in inaccurate) I ruined a dnd session by talking too much because in these two campaigns I’m in there are these two separate players who talk so much already so when you have two people in a campaign who are like that it just ruins it for everyone to the point maybe i shouldn’t play at all and I’m so done. I can’t even ask my friends for a hug cause the idea of talking to them makes me so anxious i feel like i’m about to get sick. God even looking at this makes me want to cry cause it’s just been nonstop. I’m so tired and so sad, I keep telling myself it’s going to be ok. I’m not going to set up a go fund me or anything cause it won’t do my mental health any good to see that account stay empty. I just feel alone and scared. My anxiety is so high at the moment that even just hearing other people’s voices makes me feel sick . I’m trying so hard to stay strong and positive but it’s hard. I don’t even have someone who can just hug me. I’m scared i’m sad and i’m so tired

[peacht44]

literally screaming for him to wake up and see me and appreciate me for everything I’ve done for us since coming back home to him after the break(up) because he is losing me, I’m getting tired of fighting. And still he is apathetic at best.

Currently in financial ruin for this “man” ama.

Idc if this isn’t want tumblr is for- I literally have lost my entire family due to my decision to come home and try to make it work with him again after what he did to me, they don’t respect me and are keeping their distance. So I have no family of my own blood (just my little fam who adopted me as their own for giving their dad another chance) and exactly 1 friend who lives on the other side of the country. I have no one and nothing currently (other than a sick ass LDR stash necklace dupe on the way 🙌🏻) so forgive my old ass for being a MySpace kid who hated fb and went offline during the tumblr era, I’m just gonna rant here when I need because NOBODY knows me here.

It’s been 8 years since I attempted last, but each and every day lead me further down that path again and my depression sinks deeper and deeper and gets darker and more unholy by the day 😪 I’m too sunny and too bubbly to feel this way god I hate feeling this way. It would be so easy too and then 🤫 all quiet, no more pain physical or metaphysical or even emotional god that would be a dream. I can’t even buy my dad a Father’s Day or birthday gift (both back to back this month) because I threw my whole paycheck on the house we share that he’s refused to pay for (or even work for like physically Have a job for) in almost 2 years.

Where tf did my self respect go?? Why can’t I be the baddie I try to uplift other women to be when they’re down? Why am such a pushover who let’s him get away with murder??

My whole life is falling apart and all I can think is that no one is coming to save me this time. All I have is me and my own back, and even I hate me. I wish so badly I could be someone else, literally ANYONE else, and so I wish even harder for the silence. That eerie quiet to be only pierced by occasional muffled wails that I let out behind my hand clamped over my mouth through gritted teeth with the vent turned as high as it can go where no one can hear me slowly lose every single part of me that made me human, or even just me.

Maybe a nice grippy sock vacation WOULD be just the ticket to getting my mental back on track. At least it would be quieter there, in my head and in my bubble. For now my only comfort are racing nightmare anxious thoughts that play on a loop every minute or every hour of every day, I can’t seem to quieter them or stop a panic attack anymore. I don’t even know how to breathe on my own any more. I am 36 and no better off than living on my own for the first time at 16 again, and all I want to do is d*e, sometimes. Or kill the pathological people pleaser I give all of my energy to being. It’s time to go scorched earth on this Mf but it still won’t make him see me, or love me; or appreciate me for being a GD DISABLED WOMAN HE HAS LET FINANCIALLY SUPPORT HIM FOR 2 YEARS NOW. It’s gaslight gate-keep and hypocrisy 24/7 on my life so maybe it’s time to girlboss my way tf out of it and ghost every living soul I know, pack up my fur babies and flee this hell hole I’ve let my life become again. This Mf couldn’t even bother TO DO A THING for my birthday this year but cry about how he couldn’t afford a gift for me. Not try to earn some cash to even go on a date, just whine about not having the funds and then having the audacity to pass out on me early and let me agonize over every single thing I’ve fucked up in my life lately by diving deep down a cold lane with him again.

Nothing feels real anymore. I don’t even feel like a person. I’m so numb yet so soft and emotional and unstably sad all of the time but all I do is avoid it. Sitting in this pain might kill me, I can’t risk that.

[metal-mouse]

mental illness rant don’t mind me

Being hypomanic is literally the most fucking annoying thing on the god damn planet. I can’t sleep, I can’t sit still, my brain is running at Mach fucking Jesus, I’m so easily agitated and just so quick to explode, I’ve started about a bajillion projects (which most of them will not be finished because I can’t concentrate on things for very long)

Then of course when I’m not sleeping, it triggers my chronic illness so on top of not being able to sit still and being literally Satan I am nauseous literally all the time.

It seems so fucking stupid, but having to rely on medication so my brain doesn’t act out like this is SO frustrating - especially when it isn’t fucking WORKING. And then my body straight up rebels against me, never in my life have I had a problem taking pills, but rn while I’m taking 6-7 pills every god damn night? I HATE it.

I am so physically exhausted but my brain just will NOT let me sleep, even when I’m pumping it full of clonazepam and trazodone. I just get drowsy enough to doze in and out while my brain makes such a racket that it feels like my ears are ringing (they probably just might be, I do have tinnitus). I have CONSTANT nightmares when I do manage to fall asleep properly, so then I’m waking up throughout the night because of that.

The hell ride my brain has taken me on in the last year has now officially cost me my job, it’s stolen my passions from me, and it’s come so SO close to ruining my life so many times. I had to move back in with my parents, I’ve had to apply for welfare just so I have SOME sort of income coming in because I don’t qualify for EI because I had to quit my job after my medical leave time exhausted.

Shit, even just trying to sit down and write something my brain goes haywire and I can’t concentrate. I have so many WIPs that I’m legitimately proud of but I just can’t seem to finish them. I WANT to write more, I want to share my creations with everyone, and I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve cried because I just can’t get myself to do it.

And don’t get me started on the anxiety. HOLY SHIT. I can’t even be at a family gathering without shaking like a leaf, staring at the ground, and then crying on the way home while my mother pats my hand. I went to Anime North and spent nearly an hour crying in the car in front of my best friend and partner because I was so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people. I’m literally losing hair in clumps because I’m so stressed and so god damn anxious all the time.

Anyways, I’m pissy and I’m tired and I miss being involved in things and actually creating and I’m sick of feeling this way and it’s very hard to be patient while I’m working with my medical team to try and be a functioning human being!!!!!!!

[sounds6noise9]

I really wish I were dead but I’m too much of a coward to end things . I don’t see any reason to stay here there’s nobody I can’t put a halt to the self loathing i can’t suddenly become better or the person i want to be and i’ve tried for so long and i haven’t gotten anywhere. I cant talk to people and i don’t really have any friends. i cannot feel anymore alone, i wish someone could love me but it’s impossible. i never am myself it’s artificial, i’m not authentic in who i am so i feel anxious or confused every time i talk to someone that i feel worthy. and i hate myself for viewing some people with high stakes but others have no importance . i cant stop feeling that way and i’m so tired now. i have no fight left in me, i can’t change enough, i can’t discard the me i am now. i mutilate myself yet i can’t kill myself no matter how much it benefits me. i’ll never be loved and even then i’d probably ruin it. i’m self destructive and impulsive in some ways more than others and don’t have stable relationships with people. maybe less impulsive i’m not sure if i’m really all that impulsive anymore. i guess i can be and i definitely used to be and i guess when i harm myself i am and when i get angry and when i blurt things out but everyone does that at some point . some days i can really love a person and be obsessed with them, but then hate them out of nowhere for no reason or maybe for a small reason. my obsessions with people are all consuming. i want to be them and involve myself with them but i always feel like i’m bothering them and with self loathing in mind, i distance myself m. i purposely self isolate, and i cannot talk to people properly. i don’t know what it’s like to be comfortable around people. i don’t feel welcomed in any social group. i don’t know how to be myself so i mimic others and do a terrible job at it because i don’t understand anything or anyone. i hate people, i love people, it fluctuates between the two but it’s mostly hate. i’ve wasted so much time and i’ll continue to do so because i’m never going to change. i don’t like my friends nor being around them. i feel even less of myself when i’m with them. i’m putting up. a constant act when i’m with them, performing, i’m casting as someone else. i just want to know what’s wrong with me. why do i get so anxious to talk to people that i’ll avoid it altogether. why can’t i connect with anyone. why does it take me so much longer than everyone else to do anything, to understand anything. i know my friends judge me and i feel awful when i’m around them. i want to get far away from them but i can’t. there’s nothing that i can do and i can’t become anyone. i cant cry anymore or feel anything. everything i do is terrible and i despise waking up. i despise being alone but i hate myself when i am with other people. i’m not ever myself and i don’t have a clear self image. it’s warped as i’ve tried to become to many other people and i still do it. with every person i talk to i become them in order to talk to them. but i do it very poorly because despite it all, i’m still me. Despite everything I am still me

[boonandbash]

Benjiman Fujisaki

Do they like their name?:Never thought about it but he’s alright with it

Nicknames: Benji, he’s also called Zombie

Age?:16 highschool

How old do they appear?: By his height, 17-18 but y'know he’s only a year younger

Birthday: December 7th

Eye color?: Axel makes them appear maroon and blue but his original eye color is brown

Glasses?: Only for the style

Weight/build: bean poll and a small bit toned

Height?: 5’9(175.26 cm)

Skin type?: sunkissed when put into the effort but can go pale when tired

Hair color/length: chin length and he dyed it blue, originally a reddish brown though

Taste in clothes: he dresses like a hobo, unless axels in control you are dealing with a feral raccoon (aka won’t wear pants)

Healthy?: depends, usually pretty healthy until needed to activate quirk then his heart stops beating at a normal pace(going extremely slow)

Music:(https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ofUCcX3Qj0Ublmo5DzQCR?si=agB449UlTha0N49xlSmT6w)

Daredevil: considering Axel is like venom and keeps benji alive, he’s very reckless it gets to the point where even Axel can’t fix it sometimes

Are they the same alone: talks to axel a lot but other than that he sleeps in his free time

Good habits: Hygiene is on point and remembers to sleep at a healthy time

Bad habits: self destructive as well as explosive anger

Hobbies: water coloring and playing LOZ over and over again

Family situation?: loves them with all his heart, Axel tolerates them

Friend situation: treats them like family and is very welcoming

Deepest fear: Axel taking over when he’s sleeping and he murders everyone in a hunger haze

Worst that could happen to them?:

being left alone again with axle for too long, silence makes him anxious

Favorite thing: Brownies no not weed brownies just nicely made brownies that melt in your mouth

Roll model: his Momma (yes he’s a momma's boy)

What would break them: seeing his little brother mark + his mom dead by his own hands or someone he trusted.

Best/worst thing in his life: best thing is definitely the fact he can function as a healthy human and worst would be that he can’t remember his life from 5-7 those memories are gone

What are they reluctant to tell people?:

He was quirkless before Axel and would’ve rather stayed that way

Opinion on intimate/ romantic relationships: cool awesome Thumbs up from benji

Major flaws:

Self destruction (and I mean the whole sha-bang, tearing up papers scratching his arms breaking stuff and even ruining his voice from screaming) plus facial dysmorphia

How does he feel about himself?: he doesn’t remember, and thinking about it makes his head hurt

Selfish,selfless: would sacrifice himself but know that he has to take care of himself as well, his family comes first though

How does the way the character try to be different from how they actually act:

Benji tries to ignore the ability that axel heightens his senses a lot more so he can hear everything at a dogs hearing and see a lot but if you mean by personality he drains himself completely of energy by the end of the day (the people pleaser life)

Now questions answered by Benji!

What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten: sandstone with ants on it, axel force fed it to me when I was hungry. Humans can not eat anything with nutrients regardless if it would solve the problem

Hogwarts?: between a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, bff is defo Luna for acceptance, Harry angers me as a protagonist, no love interest too Id get distracted by magic,

Ever bullied or have anyone afraid of you?: No I’ve never bullied but dark shadow seems to avoid me

Ever given away something expensive for free and do you regret it: I gave Mark my Pokémon cards because he got interested in it. I don’t regret it the way his face lit up is something I will love forever

Do you donate?: I would but I’m incredibly broke due to schooling and medication bills

What would you haunt as a ghost?: I would be the kind of ghost that mildly cleans for my brother Mark but if he’s a ghost with me then probably Mount Rushmore

Ever do something dumb/cool and acted like it was on purpose/accident.: there was this one time where I was cornered by some druggies and I ended up scaling the wall with my main torso towards them and my arms to the wall. That was by accident I just stuck to the wall! It wasn’t my fault I did take credit for it every time I tell the story though

If you could drink something for the rest of your life with no negative affect what would it be?

Shirley temples I can’t drink alcohol with my slowly deteriorating liver so definitely that.

Garden stuff?

I like cantaloupe and carrots but I think I would have a swamp other than a garden, y'know cat tails and moss.

Do you have any beliefs?:

I say dear god I’m sorry when I’m about to do something stupid and stuff but axel says that deity(s) are silly since why do you need to know what happens before you. Looking backwards does more bad than good

Motivation?:

Being a hero was all I could think to do with such a destructive power. If Axle is satisfied with hurting villains and destroying property than I can keep everyone safe

Who were you raised to be?: no idea I just kind of came into existence and my mom was proud and happy of it no matter what I became to be

How do you feel about yourself?

I exist to spite whatever allowed Axel to exist and hubris I guess it does effect how I treat him and others by simply making them worry but know Better than nothing

How do you feel about things you can’t control?: absolutely terrified next question

Can you use Chopsticks?

uh embarrassing to admit since I’ve used them before the amber(or so I’m told) but I can never use them again it’s so difficult

What do you do when you can’t sleep?

I watch cartoons that I enjoy like adventure time and Steven universe

What order do you wash in?

Weird flex but okay and whatever container I look at first ig so my hair and then everything else or it’s my teeth

Buying impulsively?

I buy keychain stuffed animals or just small one I have a few shoe boxes filled with them

Coffee order?

I can’t drink coffee, Axel rejects it and makes me throw it up once it gets in my stomach. It was not fun to figure that out all nighter with Mina.

Whatsapps did you get on your phone?

Tind- no I’m kidding I have tumblr, Snapchat and YouTube and like 7 different puzzle games

You like kids?

Sometimes it literally depends on whether or not they like me but I do tend to be sweet to them

What do you watch when you're bored?

I rewatch ATLAB, a lot

Where are you from?

Hosu city:

INFJ-T

(I have more just not very proud of them)

[bejun]

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐍  ! 𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 𝚂𝙾𝙻𝙾

𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐋, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 Jun reflects on the sports day… 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 562 words

Another interview, another chance to think back on what had occurred. Jun’s beginning to like these interviews. Thinking back over everything makes it easier to remember later on, when he wants to recall fond memories. He’s ready, and he thinks he might be getting better at this—more relaxed as time goes on and figures out how best to word what he wants to say. He’s not got much to say that could be misconstrued this time, anyway. Not when he enjoyed the sports day more than anyone else, probably. Jun readies himself, straightening his posture and looks at the interviewer beside the camera, watching as she shuffles papers and takes a sip of water. He does the same, just to make sure his voice sounds clear. Then, they begin.

“So, did you enjoy the sports day? What game was the most fun?” 

Easy. “I think I enjoyed it more than anyone else, frankly. I love sports. I love keeping active and staying on the move. The more I tire myself out in a day, the better I sleep, and I love a good nights sleep. Who doesn’t, right? As for my favourite game... I think dodgeball. I’ve always loved it, and I’m good at it. Name tag was great fun, but I’m loyal to my favourite game, and I think I showed my skills off quite nicely.” He’d enjoyed every second their relaxation day, running and jumping and leaping and bending, not to mention all the laughing he’d done during Name Tag. 

“What part of today was most relaxing as you head toward the finale?”

“Honestly, spending more time just having fun with people I’ve grown really close to over the past few weeks. Not everyone is still here, and I’m still dealing with that, missing them, feeling guilt over not doing more for them. It’s tough, but this sports day helped me take my mind off all the burdensome aspects of the show, and how anxious I am about the finale, and what it may hold. Being able to just spend one day really just having fun all together was exactly what I needed.”

"Are you worried about the finale?”

“Of course I am, I think everyone is. Obviously I want to do well. I want my ranking to go back up. I’ve been steadily dropping in the past couple weeks... and it’s hard to watch that and keep my morale up. But this is the last chance to show I can do it, that I can get back that number one spot. I got there once, so I can do it again.”

“When you wrote your letter, did you have anyone else in mind that you thought about writing to?”

“I decided to write to myself because, while I have some people I’d have liked to write to, like my best friend, the things I would say to him are probably a bit too soppy to air on television. I didn’t want to ruin my tough-guy image with the kind of things I’d write to him. He’s my rock, though, and I couldn’t have made it through this show without him. But yeah, I wrote to myself because I think I needed to talk to myself and recenter myself for the finale. To remind myself of my goals and what I need to focus on. Now that I’m so close.”

[angelapleasant]

this is honestly the biggest compliment anyone could have given me (i’m taking it as one LOL). i love how you said that ripp pushes boundaries, buzz pushes back, ripp pushes back, it’s never ending because yessss and that tank doesn’t realize he isn’t under the same expectations as ripp (because he doesn’t need to be?)

i wrote all that word vomit background about buzz because i realize i’m waaaay the opposite of what anyone is doing and i’m mutuals with a lot of ppl who straight up hate him (i agree with them if he’s characterized as the fanon does LOL) and i didn’t want anyone to be overly put off since they hate the most common version of him. i really wanted mine to be a separate entity and that just wasn’t possible with tank’s limited POV since he is so anxious/ putting himself under so much pressure 😂

like for mine, buzz could have used some therapy before lyla got sick/ passed (but good luck getting him to admit to it/ agree to it) and they def all needed it after but at least buck got to grow up watching the others’ mistakes and learning from them/ buzz didn’t make the same mistakes with him he made with the others

i feel like my ripp is such a stressor for the whole household bc of how he rebels for no reason— buzz doesn’t want him to ruin his life/ not be able to take care of himself when he’s gone. he’s not getting any younger and lyla proved that you can die unexpectedly. he also doesn’t want him to destroy the house by being a slob and he has to wake up early to work to support them and the loud music blaring is bad for everyone. getting arrested for doing dumb shit is bad not only for him but also for a high ranking military officer in their small military town. ripp is obviously struggling and no one understanding how to help just makes it worse

i’m just so pleased that i could have inspired a new and unique take on him/ the rest of the family! i based mine loosely on my late dad (also military, a little gruff and his speaking voice was unintentionally louder than it needed to be, expected us to be good students/ people/ be respectful of others and was stern when we weren’t, etc, but of course my dad was a bit more affectionate and fun, and made sure we knew we could go to him for anything rather than just assuming we knew. also the standard “doesn’t want a pet/ loves the pet the most” dad haha) so he’s one of my favorite characters i’ve written and i fully respect, appreciate, and encourage everyone’s right to write how they want to/ in a way that’s meaningful to them but i still feel a little :((( when people are like he is so evil!!! like sir/madame/otherwise or nongendered entity… you wrote him that way…

also tank is my favorite grunt but i feel like i would get along with buck the best bc tank would give me anxiety but me and buck could sew together

i didn’t proofread this at all and i’m tired from sewing and grocery shopping all day (please free me from my xmas chains) so i hope it was coherent. really i just got so excited. this is like. my fav thing i could have read after posting my story

so thanks to angelapleasant's take on Buzz in Something Wicked (brilliantly written btw), I've been thinking about how I want to do the Grunts, because I was never satisfied with how I was writing them. If I ever bring back my modern uberhood (I have the canon URL!) or if I want to play them in medieval PV or what have you. and well.

I do like the fanon more than she does, but I also want it to be more. complicated. tastier. a bit less... teenage. and seeing angelapleasant's depiction of Buzz and Tank made it click, the exact dynamic I want.

so in order to make this work we first need to accept a postulate: all the Grunt boys are neurodivergent. yes, all. None of them will ever get a proper diagnosis while they're living under Buzz's roof. But...

Buzz is the kind of middle-aged white guy who yells at everyone if he can't keep to his strict routine, and only eats three foods, and has Strong Opinions about sportsball statistics. He's very invested in Looking Like The Right Kind Of Person-- he's constantly masking, honestly-- and very invested in Being Normal. (Incidentally, this is why Buzz hates PT- not aliens in general, PT and the Smiths. He can't stand that someone so Weird is better at Being Normal than his family.)

Tank takes after his dad, and also has the profound misfortune of Taking Ideas Seriously. When Tank believes in something, he genuinely believes it with his whole chest. This is a rarer quality to have than one might think. It is also a deeply unfortunate quality to have in a place like Strangetown.

Ripp doesn't like routines. Or being told what to do. Or having to focus on anything but the, like, three things he cares about. And none of those things are Normal- he likes art and music and writing terribad romance novels. He's also flamingly bi, and since he's a Romance sim, he's not very good at keeping it under wraps. He started talking about having crushes on boys in kindergarten.

Buck has exactly one interest (pet fashion!), is also an incredibly picky eater, doesn't like loud noises or crowds, and can't tie his shoes or tell time on an analog clock. He talks a lot with family and friends, but completely clams up around strangers.

And so we've got this family dynamic where...

Buzz is harder on Ripp than he is on either of his other children. Buzz desperately wants Ripp to be Normal, for both selfless and selfish reasons. The world's a cruel place to be Not Normal, after all... and it's a cruel place if your kids reflect Weird back on you.

Perhaps a bit too hard. Perhaps pushing into the realm of "asking Ripp to do the unwise or impossible". Perhaps getting worse and more unreasonable the older (and surlier) Ripp gets.

Ripp resents this, ofc, and pushes back. They've got a vicious cycle going where Ripp rebels harder every time the General puts more expectations on him, which makes the General push back harder with more expectations, which makes Ripp rebel...

Tank has been watching this horrible cycle his entire life. And no one bothered to tell him that the expectations Buzz puts on Ripp are not the same expectations that Buzz wants him to live under.

And Tank takes ideas seriously.

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to this impossible ideal that no one asked or expected of him. He's trying to be the perfect soldier, get perfect grades, be perfect at his job, keep his room perfectly tidy, be Better At Being A Good Normal Person than anyone else in the family, hate the people the General wants him to hate...

If Buzz knew what Tank has internalized, at this point, he'd be horrified. He mostly just wants his kids to do their best... and mayyyybe not publicly embarrass the family.

Buzz is also easier on Buck than either of his other children, because he's the baby and you just kind of ... instinctively want to take care of him. It doesn't hurt that Buck looks more like Lyla than either of the other kids...

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to an impossible ideal that no one asked him to live up to; Ripp is desperately kicking against the pricks of an impossible ideal that everyone seems to want him to live up to; and Buck is alternating between Getting Forgotten and Getting Spoiled Rotten.

You've got this horrible, horrible family dynamic, that could probably be resolved with, like, three honest conversations and some honest renegotiation around expectations. But all of these men (except maybe Buck?) are incredibly emotionally constipated and Will Not Talk To Each Other without some severe goading from an outside force.

idk, that's just where I'm at at this point, and I don't think I've seen anyone else with this specific headcanon. especially not neurodivergent!Buzz.

[sanisse]

Hands Up, Palms Out, I’m at Your Mercy Now | Elrond x Masc!Reader Version

SUMMARY: Elrond takes the reader’s virginity at his request. Basically, this is just a version of Hands Up, Palms Out, I’m At Your Mercy Now for masc!readers, because masc!readers deserve more love and I really wanted to do this. It’s the exact same thing except mechanics are changed around. Elrond is still topping, reader is still bottoming. 

Here’s the original fem!reader version.  

AO3 Link, in case anyone wants to easily bookmark this or prefers reading there. 

Spice level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶 (pretty dang hot if I do say so myself).

Warnings/tags: first time, getting together, friends-to-lovers, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex, cuddling, fluff & romance

Word count: 5k WHOOPS

MINORS DNI, your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Your legs feel like jelly as you knock on the door to Elrond’s study. Part of you can’t believe you’re really asking this of him. The rest of you is screaming to get it out before you lose your nerve.

He calls for you to come in. You step inside and shut the door behind you. His study is always so comforting, with its overstuffed reading chairs, the neatly-shelved rows of books, the golden sunlight streaming in through the high windows to glint off the mahogany bookcases. Elrond is at his desk working on some letters, wrapped in a velvet indigo robe, face pinched with concentration. He looks up from his paperwork and his expression softens. He sets down his quill.

“I can come back later if you’re quite busy.” It rushes out of you before he can even greet you.

“What is the matter? You’re shaking,” he says, getting to his feet. Of course he notices. He crosses the room to take your hands in his bigger warm ones. His voice is laced with concern. “What can I do to help?”

“No— I—“ you bite the inside of your cheek, unable to look up at him. This could ruin everything but you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather do this with. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything,” he says immediately.

You don’t even know where to start. It’s building up inside your ribcage, filling your lungs. You can hear your own heartbeat. This really could ruin everything. He’s your best friend— he’s so good to you—

“I should go,” you say, too anxious to stand it. “This was a bad idea.”

When you pull away, his grip tightens— not imperiously, only with the worry of a healer. “Will you sit and tell me what has you so anxious?”

“I don’t want to sit,” you say. You feel as if you’re about to combust. Sitting down won’t help.

Elrond doesn’t say anything. He studies you. His gaze is as sharp as one of his scalpels. He’s patient, though, waiting to see what you’ll say. You try to swallow, to get the words out; you still haven’t the slightest clue of how to begin.

“Elrond, I—“ it sticks in your throat and then turns into: “You know I haven’t…been with anyone?“

You glance up at him and see he’s frowning, and immediately you have to look away. For some stupid reason your mouth just won’t stop talking and you tumble into: “In bed. Sexually. I haven’t been with anybody sexually. I haven’t— I haven’t had sex.”

You feel hot all over. Elrond’s still quiet. When you manage to meet his eyes, he looks perplexed.

“And this…bothers you?” he says at last. He strokes the backs of your hands with the pads of his thumbs and gives them a squeeze.

“No! I mean— well— yes. A little. I just—“ you don’t know how to say it. “I—I want to. I want to know what it’s like, I’ve just never— I’ve never found the right person—“ until now, “—someone I felt like I could trust. It just— feels like this big hurdle now and I’m tired of it and I— I want to.”

He’s quiet again, watching you. You can’t read the expression on his face.

You swallow again and break eye contact. “I just want my first time to…I want it to be with— with someone…like— I don’t know—“ You’re starting to tremble again. Elrond still hasn’t said anything. For once you wish he’d be less patient. You chew on your lip and finish in a small voice: “I want it to be with someone like you.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. Instinctively, you pull away from him, drowning for distance.

The silence that stretches between you is awful and heavy. Elrond is the first to break it.

“Are you asking me to be your first?”

Just like you can’t read his face, you can’t read his voice either. Your eyes grow hot and your vision fogs and you wish you could just disappear.

“I’m sorry— I know it’s— you’re my best friend and I don’t want to ruin that— I just— I know that you’d— you’d be so good. You’d be really gentle and I just— I feel so safe with you—“ your voice wobbles and then cracks.

He closes the distance between you faster than could be believed. He’s right there, so solid and warm and radiating kindness and feebly you wonder if you haven’t completely ruined everything the two of you have. Elrond takes your face in his hands, coaxing you to look at him. When you do, his smile is soft for you, gray eyes shining. He leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I am honored,” he murmurs. “Truly. I am honored that you trust me so.”

Relief smacks you like a wall of water. The tears you’ve been holding back spill over. He makes a little displeased sound and rubs at them.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” he promises. “Is this truly what you want? You have thought about it at length?”

You nod, leaning into his touch.

“Give me some time,” he says. “I will not say yes or no now, but rest assured that regardless— I still care for you deeply and nothing has changed.”

Your mouth twists and you nod again. Elrond pulls you into a tight hug and holds you. When you bury your face in his shoulder and heave a shuddering breath, he rubs your back and holds you that much tighter.

—

True to his word, nothing changes. The two of you still go for your long walk; you still read on the porch that sun-drenched afternoon; you still join him in the Hall of Fire with the rest of his house and sit at his table while Glorfindel teases him about his bad jokes and Lindir anxiously hovers from goblet to goblet, trying to be useful, until Elrond eventually begs him to sit down and eat something.

You go on one last walk together to watch the moon rise, then take the path back to the house arm-in-arm. When it comes time to part your separate ways, Elrond turns to face you, taking your hand.

“I truly am honored,” he says at last. You brace yourself, ready for the ‘but’, and he goes on: “This is a precious gift: letting me share this with you. I accept.”

It knocks all the air out of you. You look up at him in wide-eyed shock. “Truly?”

One corner of his mouth turns up in a little half-smile. He dips his head. “Truly, dear one.” Then, his voice takes on a more serious note. “But there will be no Bonding. I will be closed to you, and you to me. I will not risk an accidental tethering.”

You agree, shoving down the strange disappointment that rises in your chest. Of course this is how it must be. Elrond had no reason to want to Bond in that way. You’re friends. It was good to set a clear boundary.

“When shall we do it, and where would you be most comfortable?” he asks.

“My room?” You offer. And then you say, “Tomorrow? Or—if that’s— if that’s too soon—“

He takes your hand and squeezes it. “The choice is yours.”

“Tomorrow night?” you repeat. “I’m just— I’m worried that I’ll overthink if we put it off too long— but if you need more time or— or you’re busy—“

Elrond shakes his head. “I will make time. Tomorrow night, then. Very well.”

You share a hug, then go your separate ways.

—

Elrond is so calm at dinner the following day. You wish you could have half his composure. You hardly eat, completely unable to tell if the way your stomach twists is anxiety or anticipation. After dinner, the two of you go for your usual walk. In the quiet space between the rustling leaves overhead and the trilling crickets, Elrond softly asks:

“Are you still certain you want to do this?”

“Yes,” you say at once. “Yes. I am.” You’re perfectly aware of how your anxiety is radiating off of your body.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we head back?”

You give him a tentative smile and let him walk you to your room.

The two of you slip in together— Elrond first, then you. When you shut the door and the latch clicks, your stomach ties into all sorts of knots again. You have no idea what to expect.

Elrond, to your surprise, simply gathers you up into a tight hug, resting his cheek on the top of your head. Your breath hitches, then rushes out of you. He’s so warm and solid. He makes you feel so safe. His heartbeat ticks steadily away in your ear. When he pulls back at last to take your face in his hands, his expression is soft and full of affection.

“Would you like to be kissed?” he asks.

Your stomach flutters. “Yes.”

Elrond dips down and captures your lips with his own.

Somehow, this feels no different to any other touch you’ve shared. Elrond loves gently, deeply, generously. Every touch is infused with warmth. His kisses are no different.

He kisses you just the once, then draws back to gaze into your eyes. There is a gravitas to his gaze which you have always admired. It draws you in.

“We can stop at any time,” Elrond says, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Just tell me if you wish to.”

You nod, then wet your lips and say nervously: “I— I don’t really know what I’m doing— I’m not going to be any good—“

Elrond interrupts, “I seek no benefit for myself. Let me take care of you.”

You swallow and nod once. Elrond gravitates down again to brush his lips against yours. His breath ghosts over your mouth, warm and even. Your eyes flick up to his. He doesn’t press any further.

Tentatively, you stand on your toes to close the distance yourself, and kiss him.

You feel him smile against your mouth. He kisses you back, sliding his fingers into your hair at the nape of your neck, cradling your head. Then, he leads you into a second kiss, this time a little more openmouthed, but still sweet. You can’t help the little sound that escapes you, so close to a whine that you blush and pull back to duck your head with a nervous, half-embarrassed laugh.

“Sorry—”

He presses his fingers beneath your chin to tilt your head back towards his. His gray eyes are warm and bright and fond. “Do not be.”

Elrond kisses you once more, just briefly and chastely, and then takes your hand and leads you to sit with him on your bed.

Despite your nerves, you lean in for another kiss, resting one trembling hand on his thigh, wanting to be so much closer, but too shy to do much. You’ve done this before with others, gotten this far. Never farther. You don’t know how to get where you want to go, but he’s promised to guide you. You trust him. You trust him. You trust him.

Elrond’s mouth wanders: just the dry brush of his soft lips against your cheek, then he presses a kiss to your ear, then trails down to kiss your neck just at your thundering pulse. A delicious shiver slides up your spine. Your fingers on his thigh twitch and you curl them into a fist.

“You can touch me,” Elrond murmurs against your skin.

“I don’t know how,” you whisper back, horribly shy.

Elrond pulls back and adjusts to sit cross-legged, then curls his fingers— confident but undemanding— around your hip and tugs, guiding you to straddle his lap. Your heart lurches and speeds. You settle. He coils one arm around your waist and brushes your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“Any way you like,” he tells you.

You’re so close that you can feel the way his voice rumbles in his chest. The starlight filtering in from your window paints his face into chiseled lines of blue and silver. He hardly looks real. You reach up and graze your knuckles along the curve where the light splashes against his cheek. He leans into it, eyes slipping closed.

Feeling a little braver, you feather your fingers over his mouth, tracing the shape of it. His eyes open, dark and pitch-blue, somehow comforting despite the depth, and he kisses your fingertips. The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter. You’ve thought about this, if you’re honest with yourself. You’ve seen what he looks like under his robes, seen him training with Glorfindel in the courtyard in nothing but a pair of leather trousers and boots— a creature carved from power, not quite an elf and not quite a maia and not quite a man— and yet somehow he is here, just at your fingertips.

Without thinking, your hand wanders down to the clasp of his robe.

You stop and look at him.

He’s still smiling.

He unclasps the pin with his free hand in one deft motion and leaves the rest for you.

You curse the way your hands shake as you push the first button through its loop. Then the second, then the third. Elrond shows no resistance, only rubs circles on your hip with the pad of his thumb that drive you almost to distraction.

The robe pools around his shoulders as you free it. You hesitate at the laces of his shirt. It’s then that it hits you:

This is really happening.

You never thought you would ever get this close. Your tongue feels like its turned to sand in your mouth, you’re so nervous. Your stomach winds in knots. Fear is a spike of ice, skewering you from crown to root. I don’t want to mess this up—

It’s Elrond who unlaces it, lets the robe fall to the bed, lets go of you long enough to tug his shirt over his head and cast it aside, then gently takes your hand and places it, palm first, to his heated skin.

You suck in a breath.

Your eyes lock. He is still open and warm and fond. His heart pulses beneath your touch, steady and sure, just a little faster than you remember it ever being.

He is built like a Vala.

It’s different. It’s so different being this close. So close you could press every inch of your body against every inch like his—- and you want to, Elbereth, you want to.

Your head falls to his shoulder, resting in the crook of his neck, and you begin to map every shape. Every muscle. Every time you hear his breath hitch, your confidence grows. You map the sensitive places: the line of his breastbone, the way his stomach quivers and flexes when you drag all five fingers down the flat plane of it.

“Are you learning me by heart?” he whispers.

“I already know you by heart,” you whisper back.

But it’s different when you’re this close.

You lift your head in a burst of courage to kiss his neck, and you think you hear him whine.

“You can touch me,” you repeat his words back to him.

He does.

Just as in everything else: he is patient and self-assured, every touch infused with tender reverence. If he hesitates, its out of respect. Each time he does, you murmur your encouragement. He strokes your sides, your back, your neck, runs his hand over the planes of your chest and swipes his thumb over your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. It makes you gasp and arch into him, hips tilting to his, feeling your trousers tighten as your cock starts to fill. He does it again, seeming to relish your reaction, and kisses your neck once more.

You want more. Your clothes are an annoyance that you want out of right now. You tug your shirt up over your head and cast it aside —though it makes your face heat— then take his face in both your hands and kiss him again.

Without thinking, you roll your body along the length of his, and he pours another breathy sound into your mouth that makes your mind empty. It feels so good.

Through the fabric that’s left between you, you can feel he’s just as hard as you are.

He also feels big.

Anxiety ices your spine again. You pause, blushing furiously, and drop your head into the crook of his neck once more.

Elrond senses it— he always does— and cards his hand through your hair, soothing his thumb over your temple. He’s so safe. He makes you feel so safe. You know he won’t hurt you.

Your body aches for his. You don’t know how to ask for more.

Gently, he asks: “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes,” you hiss out.

You can swear you feel him smile. He strokes the curve of your spine and asks, “Do you think you would rather take me, or have me take you? The former would be easier for your own pace.”

He’s probably right. But the thought makes you even more anxious. You’ve never done this and you don’t really know how, and you’re worried you’ll be too awkward, too unsure, for it to be even half enjoyable for him. 

“I–I’d rather you-- could you be on top? Please?”

He hums something in the back of his throat and traces the hem of your trousers, tentatively at first, giving you a chance to stop him. You only whine and tilt your hips toward his touch, so he traces down and palms you through the fabric, just a gentle squeeze that feels so, so good. 

It makes you jerk. More out of the surprise of it than anything else. You’ve touched yourself. It’s a completely different thing for someone else to do it. Let alone for that someone else to be Elrond.

Your goosebumps are back. When he next catches your eye there’s something mischievous in his gaze that you don’t understand-- that is, you don’t until he actually brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and slips them -- now wet-- inside your trousers to wrap his fingers around your cock. 

You gasp at the touch and he responds with a hum of approval. The sound arrows straight to your cock and makes it jump in his hand. You let out a whimper and turn to bury your face in his neck. He’s hardly touching you, holding you in a loose grip, but the heat spreading through your body is unlike anything you’ve ever been able to build for yourself. His fingers are so long and clever...(what would it be like--him pushing them inside of you, filling you up, scissoring you open, fucking you on them—)

—you moan and immediately flush red.

Elrond doesn’t seem to mind in the least, only stroking you just a bit faster, and it’s so, so good.

The pleasure winds at the base of your spine, tighter and tighter, stoking the fire burning inside of you as you buck up into his hand. Elrond studies your face, then slows his pace and stops, and it makes you whine in disappointment.

Elrond murmurs and apology in your ear with a fond sort of smile, holding you flush to his chest.

“If you come too quickly, you may be oversensitive later.” 

You blush, because you had been about to come-- and you can hardly breathe, you’re still so close to the precipice, unable to stop yourself from rocking your hips and grinding your cock down to his, relishing the surprised moan that rumbles out of him. If you thought he felt big beneath you before, he certainly feels big and rock hard now.

You’re still panting as he winds his fingers through your hair again, scritching your scalp, soothing your spine, before unlacing your trousers the rest of the way. Then he flips the pair of you around and gently lowers you to your back, grabbing a pillow to tuck beneath your head.

He sits on his knees next to you on the bed, then Elrond reaches out to the hem of your trousers again, pausing like a question. You give him a shaky, still-nervous smile and hook your thumbs in the waistband, then tug them off. 

You had expected to feel…exposed. Vulnerable. You’ve never been naked in front of someone like this. Somehow, you don’t. There is nothing lewd in the way Elrond looks at you. His expression is one of admiration. If you shiver, it is only because of the cold of the room. 

He bends over you to kiss your forehead, then your mouth, then the curve of your jaw, and each touch is like a spark, building that fire in your belly higher and higher and higher. 

Then he trails his lips down your body, pausing to press his lips to your hip bone, and then --without warning-- takes your cock into his mouth.

You have to cover your mouth to stifle the surprised shout. His mouth is so hot and wet, perfect, as he flattens his tongue along the length of you, hollows his cheeks out, and sucks. Stars burst across your vision and you have to reach down to clutch at his hair just for something to hang on to. Elrond just looks up at you through his dark eyelashes, gray eyes twinkling, and damn him--- he moans.

The vibration has you bucking up into him to hit the back of his throat, for which you immediately apologize. Elrond simply pulls back, unbothered, and licks his lips, expression casual (maybe a little smug), but you think it’s entirely too modest considering he’s utterly wrecking your world. 

He sits up and settles back on his haunches again, stroking your thigh, and then his touch traces inward, brushing between your legs. It’s so featherlight, barely-there, even still your breath hitches. When Elrond catches your eye again, there’s a touch of concern in his expression when he asks: “Have you done this? With yourself, even?” 

A breath rushes out of you. You nod. Never more than a finger, really. Still, it’s not entirely new territory. 

He looks relieved and goes back to rubbing little circles on your thigh with his thumb. Unconsciously, you part your legs a little more for him. Elrond smiles at this, but just reaches past you to his bedside drawer and pulls out a bottle, pours a little of the liquid inside into his hand, and then brings his slick fingers to your hole.

Despite yourself, you clench. It’s more out of surprise than anything else. Elrond doesn’t push inside, though, he just traces tiny circles, drags the crook of his finger up to the sensitive place behind your cock, then back down again. You let out a breath and reach for him, and Elrond takes your hand in his free one and gives it a warm, affectionate squeeze.

“Open for me, dear one,” he murmurs.

You let out another breath, trying to relax, and the second you do he pushes in past that ring of muscle. 

It’s not uncomfortable, only a little strange. Elrond pushes in a bit farther, leaning down over you and bracing himself on his elbow so he can kiss your cheek as he drags that finger out, in again, gentle strokes that have you opening up for more. 

“Good?” he asks softly. 

You nod, twisting your hips to try and get more friction. “More?” you beg softly.

He smiles against your cheek and carefully presses a second finger inside with the first. It’s farther than you’ve gotten with yourself, and his fingers are bigger and longer than yours. You already feel so full-- 

When your forehead pinches, Elrond croons something in the back of his throat, withdraws, adds more lubricant and slides his fingers in again-- and then it’s not too much-- it’s good, wringing another hitched breath out of you which he seems to drink in like it’s something holy. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises with another kiss to the side of your head. 

You twist your hips again, trying to catch a bit more friction, and plead: “I-- I want--” 

What you mean to say is his cock, but he just kisses you again and adds a third finger, and it’s like it pushes all the air out of your lungs. 

He doesn’t move. He stays like that, letting your insides flutter around it, letting you adjust. Then he curls his fingers, pets something inside of you, and your vision blurs.

You cry out, clutch at his shoulder, Elrond rumbles another moan and something warm and affectionate. It feels so fucking good. He strokes over it again and your spine melts into the mattress, every nerve in your body alight. You want more, you want more, you want more. 

“Elrond,” you breathe. “Please-- please fuck me?” 

Shy as it is, it’s dripping with lust.

Elrond only smiles and says: “Not yet.” 

You could cry from frustration. He almost looks like he enjoys the desperation written all over your face, the way you cant up into his touch and sink your fingernails into his skin. He only kisses your neck, fucks you on his fingers, and then starts to scissor them and it’s like nothing--- nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You can hardly breathe as he works you open, petting your insides, stroking over that spot that he’s found. Your cock’s leaking precum all over your stomach and you can’t fucking think. 

At last, he says: “You’re ready.” His hand stills. 

The lack of movement is a kind of heartbreak. You tremble and reach for him, and he just catches your hand, gives it another squeeze, and asks: “Are you sure you want me inside you? I am content to finish you like this.” 

“Yes,” you sob out. “Please. I want nothing else— please Elrond—”

“Hush.” It’s gentle and reassuring. He kisses your cheek and withdraws. “I promised I would take care of you.”

He sits back on his heels again and unlaces his trousers, then shucks himself out of them. His cock springs out: magnificent, long, thick, flushed red at the head and leaking. He is— he is huge. And he’s beautiful— every inch of him is beautiful. Impulsively, you reach over to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

He hisses. He’s hot and pulsing and stiff in your hand. Heavy. You give him one curious, almost open-handed pump, then your eyes flick up to meet his.

His eyes are darker than you remember.

Still kind.

Elrond pours a generous amount of lubricant out onto his palm, slicks himself up, pushes more inside of you, then he settles over you again, resting on his elbows and cradling your head. You spread your legs to accommodate him without thinking.

When the tip of his cock touches your hole, that’s when it sets in. It’s blunt and huge, so much larger than his fingers. You trust him. You trust him. You know he’d never hurt you, but you panic and clench anyway.

At once, you shiver and blush and stammer out an apology. “I want this—” you try to reassure him. Almost like you’re trying to convince yourself, because you do, you do. You’re so horribly turned on— “I’m sorry— I’m sorry— I’m just so nervous—”

“Don’t fret.” Elrond dips to kiss your forehead. Its warm and firm and full of affection. “You are perfect. I am in no rush.”

“Is it going to hurt?” It comes out of you in a rush. He still feels so safe— but he’s so big. 

“It shouldn’t,” he says at once, holding your face, soothing the pad of his thumb over the muscles that’ve tensed in your face. “If it does, I want you to tell me.”

You nod. He kisses your forehead again. Your nose. Your mouth. You let out a long, shuddering breath. He slips his hand between your bodies and begins to stroke you again, and your spine relaxes.

“I am right here,” he reassures. “I have you, dear one.”

“Elrond,” it slips out of you in a sigh. You trust him.

He drags his hips only a little at first, just rubbing the head of his cock over your hole and stroking your cock until you’re weightless and moaning into his mouth again. Only when he’s content that you’re finally relaxed does he press the tip inside.

It breaches you with a little pop that makes you gasp.

Elrond pauses, hovering. Studies your face.

“Does it hurt?” he asks to be sure.

“No,” you breathe. You reach up to drape an arm around his shoulders. Elrond sinks a little deeper and all the air leaves your lungs. It doesn’t hurt— it just feels… “You feel so good. M—more?”

Elrond pulls out, then slides a little deeper, still touching you in languid, decadant flicks of his wrist that leave your head light and every nerve in your body singing. That is how he does it: in slow, shallow thrusts, deeper and deeper until he’s fully seated inside of you and you’re so fucking full that you can’t think.

His head falls to the pillow and he groans in your ear as your body clenches around him, getting used to the sensation. You’re gasping, panting, digging your nails into his shoulder so hard that you’re worried that you might be drawing blood.

Then, Elrond rolls his hips.

Pure pleasure sparks behind your eyes. It’s so much. You gasp and clutch at him. He stills, stroking your hair, kissing the side of your head.

“I have you,” he reminds you.

“More,” you beg.

He smiles against your skin and obliges.

This is going to ruin you, you think inanely as he pulls out and sinks back inside, splitting you open. You have always loved him. Now you know what it feels like to be with him, and nobody else is ever going to compare with this.

You can’t bring yourself to care. Not now. Not while he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and your body sucks at him, trying to pull him deeper still.

He builds his pace. Never demanding, never hard. The slide is a slow-building fire that saws up your spine, coiling around it. You can feel the blood rushing in your ears, hear the way he praises you—

“You’re doing so well,” he hisses out, voice thick with pleasure. “You feel so good wrapped around me like this. So good. I love the sounds you make. Love to hear you. Love the way you clench around me just. like. that.” It’s punctuated with three, deep thrusts that make you shake. You’ve never felt so utterly consumed. You can’t think about anything else except Elrond, Elrond, Elrond. He feels so perfect inside of you, like you were made for this.

Your hand joins where it’s wrapped around your cock. The pleasure winds to a fever pitch, crashing over you in wave after mounting, cresting wave. You’re so close— surging up to a cliff bigger than any you’ve ever fallen off before.

“Come,” you find yourself panting in his ear. “Please, Elrond. Come for me. I want to feel you come inside me—”

He makes a surprised, choked noise in the back of his throat. His hips stutter, then speed. He hits a spot inside of you that wrenches a cry out of you, that makes your vision spark and split. Then, he bursts.

It’s that sensation: the feeling of him filling you up that shoves you over the cliff with him. You come with an utterly wrecked noise, grabbing on to any piece of him that you can just to hold on to something solid as you splatter Elrond’s stomach and your own, shaking and moaning and saying thank you, thank you, thank you. Elrond cradles you and fucks you right through it, and vaguely you register that he’s saying: “Good— beautiful. Beautiful boy. Good boy, just like that—”

He sounds just as overwhelmed as you feel.

Eventually, his pace slows and stills. You collapse together. He lies next to you and draws you up to his chest. You’re still floating, high off the hormones and adrenaline coursing through your body. Every single inch of you is trembling.

He draws circles on your shoulder and murmurs soothing noises in the back of his throat. Kisses the top of your head, then each cheek. It’s then that you realize that your face is wet. You don’t remember starting to cry.

“Thank you,” you manage. You wrap your arms around him and cling to him, shivering like a wet branch. “Thank you, Elrond.”

He pushes some of your sweat-slicked hair back from your forehead. “No, thank you, melda. You were—” his voice seems to crack. His lips brush against your forehead and he slips out of you, softening. “You were utterly magnificent.”

As your body cools, a hollow space begins to grow between your ribs. You feel so empty without him. 

He didn’t bond with you. That was the agreement, of course. But this only solidifies it: you have to go back to being friends. You don’t want to.

You love him.

Tears fill your eyes again. Frustrated with yourself, you try to rub them away, but they just won’t stop welling up.

Elrond makes a displeased sort of noise and dries them for you. “You’re not hurt?”

“No,” you say. Your mouth twists. “No— I’m so—” your voice catches on happy. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

You curl up, turning to face him despite your better judgement, and bury your face in his chest again. You just want to be close to him.

The shock in his voice is obvious when he asks: “Whatever for?”

“I—” can you say it? “I— I only— I just—” I love you. I am in love with you. This is a horrible idea, now that it’s happened. Because I won’t ever be able to stop thinking about you.

You pull back to look up at him. His face is etched with concern. You can hardly bear it. Immediately, you break eye contact and look away.

“I only wish that…” you trail off. “I’m sorry. I know that you— that you don’t— I just…I really like you, and I know that I shouldn’t. I don’t have any right to you. I just wish that this…” you run your hands along his chest. “That this could be us. All the time. I’m sorry— I didn’t realize— I didn’t realize that I was in love with you until…”

He sucks in a sharp breath. You freeze.

“Will you look at me?” he asks softly.

You do. His eyes are filled with so much love that you can hardly breathe.

“I am in love with you too,” Elrond says.

He stare at him in dumb shock, unable to believe that you heard him correctly.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. You can’t remember seeing him ever look shy. He rests his head on the crook of his elbow and reaches over to stroke your cheek.

“The boundary about bonding was for me. I did not want to accidentally… impose myself—”

“It’s not an imposition,” you say at once. “You could never be an imposition.”

His smile softens. “I do love you, if you will have me.”

Your breath catches. Quietly, in the silence that stretches between the two of you, you ask: “Do you want to be kissed?”

Elrond’s features soften, and he answers: “Yes.”  

[officialcharactersimp]

Dark! Sugar mommy melina posing as r's mother

A/N: so this one is a little different from other stuff I’ve written. I’m really excited about it tho!! I think it requires a little bit of backstory: I have crippling social anxiety and selective mutism, and I’m also just not the best at functioning in general. People thought I was 18 from the time I was 15, and now I look 18/19 (I am 18), but due to my mutism and and functioning issues, in public or at the doctor’s people have always turned to my mother to speak and decide for me. Usually it’s helpful in my life, but the potential for dark!content can’t be ignored >:)

Send me your h-word thoughts!

CW: smut! DNI if under 18!; dark!fic; mommy!melina; hints of Stockholm syndrome; mute!reader; manipulation of Doctor; Melina posing as mother; strapwarming; irresponsible driving practices; heavy manipulation; dub-con?? Sorta; it’s really dark and weird ok

“So, mom tells me you’re very anxious and sometimes have outbursts,” the doctor addresses you. You give a small nod, legs bouncing. He’s not wrong, after all.

“It’s such a struggle at home—I have such a sweet kid usually, but sometimes…” Melina fakes a disheartened sigh. “I know we spoke some on the phone about some possible medications to help,” she says.

You glance up at her. She had told you you were going to the doctor, but not why. Is she going to try and drug you up? She gives you a smile and squeeze that look reassuring, but you know better.

You’ve been mostly complacent & compliant with your captor at first, hoping good behavior would be in your interest, but as things escalated, you’ve started to struggle. It looks like she’s going to put an end to that.

“Yes, we did. From what you described, I think I have some medications in mind, one for daily use and one that would be more for those uncontrollable moments,” he says to Melina. “How does that sound, huh?” he drops his head a little and makes his voice a little softer to speak to you, how one speaks to a child.

Melina squeezes your leg a little tighter when you hesitate, making you nod quickly. He smiles at you, oblivious to the true situation at hand.

“Now, they will both be controlled medications, so make sure to keep track of them and keep them locked up,” he says as he gets up to go get his prescription pad.

“Thanks so much again for letting me come to the appointment today, doctor, it really helps. I know you don’t usually let parents of legal adults come along,” she says sweetly. He smiles and leaves.

“You did very good, baby,” she says softly to you once the door is closed.

“But, Me—mommy—I don’t need any medicine,” you whisper, looking up at her. “I don’t want any.”

“You’re behaving so well, don’t ruin it now. So far you’ve earned yourself a reward when we get home,” she coos, hand running up from your knee to your clothed mound. You gasp a little and buck gently into her touch. “Don’t you want a reward?”

“Y-yes mommy,” you say.

“That’s what I thought,” she hums. At the door handle jiggling, her hand moves back to your knee. The doctor enters and hands Melina two pieces of paper for the pharmacy.

“Now the daily one might make you feel a little more sluggish or tired than usual, just let mom know if you’re getting dizzy or feeling nauseous,” he tells you. “And mom, for the PRN one, don’t use it more than three or four times a week, and make sure you stay close—dizziness is a normal side effect,” he explains. You give a small whimper.

“Aw, it’s okay baby, it’s gonna help you,” Melina says. “Thank you, we’ll be in touch with any questions or concerns,” she turns back to the doctor, who nods. “Can you tell the doctor thank-you, sweetie?” she prompts.

“Th-thank you,” you mumble.

“Of course,” he says. You and Melina leave, pausing at the attached pharmacy to get your new prescription. When you’re finally back in the car, you fold over and cry.

“Oh, it’s alright little one, mommy’s here, mommy will take care of you,” she says sweetly, rubbing your back. “Now get your bottoms off and come sit on mommy’s lap so you can get started with your reward,” she says. You undress and crawl over to the drivers seat while she unzips her pants, revealing that she’s been packing.

“Just like that, baby,” she says as she guides your hips to sit you down on her strap. “So good for me,” she says as you give a needy whimper despite yourself. She buckles the seatbelt around you both and puts the car into gear.

“Someone will see!” you say, panicked and trying to get off.

“Settle, dekta. Remember, I have tinted windows,” she says, an iron grip around your waist. “But make sure to not move too much, I can’t be distracted,” she warns.

“Yes mommy,” you say, gently rocking your hips like you know she likes.

“That’s it, dekta,” she purrs, one hand on the wheel and the other stroking the back of your head, face buried in her neck. “It’s only thirty minutes home.”

[myperfectdad]

29. Dad’s first second life

My boyfriend and I lived together, but you’d never know it for how little time we spent with each other ever since he got that stupid computer game.  As soon as he came home from work each night, he’d go straight to his laptop and sit, hunched over and glassy-eyed, clicking and typing for hours.  Whenever I’d walk by, he closed the screen.  When I asked him what he was playing, he mumbled something about it being “kind of like The Sims.”  When I asked if we could play together, he shooed me away, saying he wasn’t ready for two-player just yet.

This went on for a solid month, and I was getting frustrated.  One night, after lying in bed for hours waiting for him to join me, I’d had enough.  I stormed into the living room and slammed the laptop screen down.  He looked at me like I’d just robbed him at gunpoint.

“What the hell?” he barked.  “I was in the middle of something.”

“You’ve been in the middle of something for a month now, Jake,” I said.  “I swear you haven’t even said a word to me for the last week.  I’m not going to lose my boyfriend to some stupid computer game.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, looking genuinely offended.  For a moment I thought I’d actually hurt his feelings.  “It’s important.”

“If it’s so important, why can’t you tell me what  it is?”

He raised the screen, bathing his face in a glow of eerie blue light.  I used to think he was adorable, but he’s become a completely different person since getting into that game.  He even looks different.

“I just can’t,” he said.  “Now leave me alone.  I’ve got work to do.”

In hindsight, I should have just left that night.  But dammit, I cared about him, and I know that somewhere, deep down, he cared about me, too.  It wasn’t his fault; it was that stupid game.  I had to get to the bottom of it, so I waited in the bedroom until I heard him snoring.  It was just past 3:30 am when I crept back into the living room and found him asleep over his keyboard.

Carefully, I lifted his hand and rested his index finger against the fingerprint scan.  It worked, and as the laptop came back to life, I let out an anxious breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.  I gasped just as anxiously when I saw the screen.

At the center was a near-perfect likeness of myself, naked except for plain white briefs.  It spun slowly as long blocks of text scrolled down either side.  I recognized the stats on the left.  At the top were my age, height, and weight, but further down the information got unsettlingly granular.  Intelligence quotient.  Religious affiliation.  Professional ambition.

On the right-hand side, the stats described a completely different person, older, bigger, and dumber than I.  Most of the fields were blank.

“What are you doing, Kevin?”

I physically recoiled as my boyfriend’s hand grasped mine.  His eyes, while bloodshot and tired, shot daggers at me.

“You wouldn’t tell me what you were doing,” I said.  “I had to find out for myself.”

“Christ,” he spat.  “You ruined it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Forget it.  I’ll just have to go with what I’ve got.”

He dragged his finger across the touchpad and clicked the mouse.

The sun felt hot on my big tummy, so I got out of my hammock, turned around, and laid back down facing the other way.  Now my legs were getting all the sun.  I smiled and put my arms behind my head, proud of how when I really think things through, I can solve even the most complicated problems.

I love laying out in the sun because it makes my pits nice and sweaty.  Sometimes I just lay out here and sniff them for hours.  I guess it’s hours.  I don’t know.  My Son started wearing my watches.  That was fine with me since I couldn’t tell the time anyway.

“Oh, come on, dad,” I heard my Son yell from inside the house.  I wonder what I did wrong this time.  Son always gets on me for every little thing.  I never seem to learn.  He peeked his head through the screen door to the kitchen.  “How many times do I have to tell you to lift the toilet seat?”

“Sorry, Son,” I said with a chuckle.  I was sorry.  Honest.  Son gets mad at me because I don’t feel bad when I do stuff wrong.  I can’t help it.  It just feels so good to smile.  Smile and rub my big tummy and sniff my pits.

“I’ll do better next time, Son,” I said, adjusting my favorite baseball cap.

“No you won’t,” Son said.  “But that’s not your fault, dad.  It’s mine.”

Son went back into the house without another word, and I heard the clanging of pots and pans.  Son wanted me to do all the cooking, but he got tired of cereal and peanut butter sandwiches, so now I just hang out here in the sun and wait for him to make stuff.

Man, my pits smell awesome today.  I love it here.

[luxwritesfanfic]

Bedside Manners

Sherlock figures out who the father is and the cat has the reader’s tongue. Or, the reader reads auras and Sherlock realizes that maybe The Woman has nothing on the one he already has. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You hadn’t seen Sherlock in over a week.

It had all happened so fast you could barely keep up. One moment you’re out on a case with John and the next Sherlock is heavily involved with a woman who you only knew as beautiful, powerful, and way smarter than you. 

It was too much to be around him and his constant texts with his very specific ringtone so you had decided in order to save your friendship, you’d mourn your imaginary relationship in peace. He hadn’t called or texted, but since technically this was a case you didn’t expect him to. Usually, you were working the case right alongside him. You honestly hadn’t thought he noticed you were gone.

You were cocooned under the blankets watching old recorded episodes of Maury when your phone went off.

Can I come over? SH

And then, right after:

I’m coming over. John told me it was polite to ask but I know your work schedule and I know you’re home. SH

Your lips gave way to an involuntary smile at that. It shouldn’t surprise you as much as it did that Sherlock knew so much about you because you have spent most of your days together as of late, but it still made you feel special even if it was a little odd. Sherlock Holmes coming to your flat was the last thing you expected tonight and you were nowhere near prepared. Sherlock had never shown any interest in seeing where you lived before and it wasn’t that shocking seeing as you spent more nights on his sofa than you did in your bed. You got up and tried your best to tidy up, put on some better looking pajamas and unlocked the door for him.

The door’s unlocked. Y/I

You got back under the blankets and made sure to leave room for Sherlock to sit, too. It wasn’t long after you sent the text that you heard steps coming towards your bedroom door. You hardly expected him to show up in his pajamas and horrible-- but so cute, you thought-- bedhead but there he was in all of his glory. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and you weren’t sure you wanted to know what (or who) kept him up all night. His lips were fixed in what you could only describe as a pout and he looked like he was on a mission to decipher you as soon as his knees bumped the bottom of your bed. 

Shades of blue and purple complimented his complexion tonight. You tilted your head back to see the colors better and tried to find where the light was stemming from. Before you could even say hello or finish your analysis, Sherlock was on your bed and pulling away at your blanket cocoon to invite himself underneath. You let him, of course, and realized this is the closest you had ever been to him. It felt like it could be a normal night routine and your heart ached.

It was then that it fully hit you how much you missed him. You had hoped that the way he was acting now was a reflection of how much he missed you, too, but getting your hopes up never did bode well for you. Remembering the reason you hadn’t been around all that much hit you like a freight train and you wondered if he saw right through you.

He got settled and you both sat together in silence watching as the program played. You couldn’t imagine that he came all this way just to watch telly with you and your curiosity got the better of you. “Sherlock,” you started, turning your head to face his profile, “why’d you come over here?”

“Do I ask you that when you’re at my house?” He shot back quickly, his eyes never leaving the TV. While that would sound rude to anyone else, you knew that tone. He was anxious.

“You always invite me over. You don’t have to ask.” You countered. 

“Hardly my fault you don’t invite me over. That says more about you than it does me.” Sherlock finally turned to face you and you thought he looked like ethereal with the TV light cast on his face. How you loved him so.

You could tell he was avoiding whatever it was that was bothering him and figured if he came here to sit in silence with you, you could do that for him. Turning back to the TV, you brought the blankets up even further around you two.

“He’s the father,” Sherlock said minutes before the talk show host announced it, “and you’ve been... avoiding me.” So he did notice. Just as you were about to deny it, he added, “do not lie to me. We know each other far too well for that.” 

You sighed. You really didn’t want to have this conversation with him now, or ever, but here Sherlock was snuggled up in your bed with you secretly worried that you haven’t been around. If you’ve read all the signs up until this point wrong, well, you get an A for trying. 

You could feel blue eyes boring into you and he was surely expecting an explanation. “I don’t know. This case has just been a lot on me.” 

You didn’t know what else to say. Everything involving Irene Adler was too much for you and you thought if you pretended it wasn’t going on, you’d be able to forget about it and move past it. Of course the “it” you were trying to move past was laying in your bed with you. 

You didn’t have to further elaborate because just as Sherlock was about to speak, his phone moaned. Figures.

You couldn’t hide it if you tried. She was texting him late at night and he didn’t even seemed surprised so that meant she had been texting him late at night. Your body slumped immediately and you cursed yourself because you knew Sherlock was watching. You didn’t want him to see you so weak.

“Irene Adler.” He murmured, talking more to himself than you. “You’ve been avoiding me because of Irene Adler. I don’t understand.” 

He truly was lost at this point. How Sherlock could be so brilliant but so blind was an anomaly you’d never understand. You looked at him as he tried processing this new piece of information and you could see that it wasn’t adding up for him. He couldn’t possibly understand how hearing the love of your life’s ringtone for another woman being a moan would ruin someone’s mood. It was too far beyond him.

“Sherlock, it’s fine-- it’s not her. It’s not you. I’ve just been tired. It’s me.” You try reasoning with him but it’s no use, he already off on his mental tangent. He sat up farther in bed and brushed his fingers against his lips. Something suddenly dawned on him and he was shoving his phone in your hands.

“Our texts, read them. She keeps asking me to have a night with her and I never reply. I don’t want to. Look.” He’s urging you to look at this point, and you’re unsure of what he’s trying to prove that for. You didn’t think he knew that you’d be jealous, and frankly, you didn’t think he’d care. But it was unlike you to keep him waiting, so you started to read their message thread and he was right. He had literally never responded and at this revelation you looked up at him.

Sherlock was watching for your reaction, that much was clear. Still sat up, he looked down on you as you read and met your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t discern.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Sherlock. You’re a grown man, and you’re allowed to do, and see, whoever you want.” You watched as his aura got stronger as you spoke and you wondered what he was feeling. It looked like it was coming in waves.

“Not at the cost of our relationship. She is not worth a damn to me, especially if it means losing you.” Sherlock was serious now, and that took you by surprise. You had never expected him to say anything like that about you, much less in this context. You started to wonder if all of your hopeless unrequited feelings weren’t so unrequited after all.

Now you were sitting up, and you were sitting knee to knee next to each other. “You won’t lose me. You will never lose me, Sherlock, I need you to understand that.” You matched his tone, speaking in earnest.

“Besides, if I ever did get lost, you would come find me. You wouldn’t be able to resist the game.” You offered him a smile to try and lighten your heavy confession, and when he took it, yours turned into a grin. 

You really didn’t know how you got lucky enough to love someone as beautiful as Sherlock. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss him stupid.

You don’t push him any farther tonight than what he’s already offered you because it’s more than enough. Instead, you lay back down and pat his pillow for him to lay next to you and start another episode of Maury. He lays back down and he’s the calmest you’ve seen him all night.

“If you guess the outcome of the episode correctly within the first three minutes, I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.” You challenged, looking over at him like he put the stars in the sky himself. And in your world, he did.

“The game is on.”

[taekooktimeline]

Hi everyone! I hope you’re all doing well💜

I feel like I say I’m not happy with my posts quite a bit, but the four I just uploaded are not as detailed. I’m heading to Hawaii next week for a much needed vacation and I wanted to cross off as much as I could before because I know when I come back my personal life will be hectic. I hope they are satisfactory enough in archiving the closeness and cuteness of Taekook🥰

Another thing that I thought I’d take the time to address - I think most people know at this point, but I have suffered with anxiety my entire life. My mind is my own worst enemy. I always find something to fixate on and be worried about, without fail. Even now, typing this makes me anxious! It’s so silly and frustrating. I’ve been writing a lot more recently, thanks to the encouragement of two dear friends, and that has helped as a distraction + studying Japanese takes my mind off things too.

The point I wanted to make with this is - I didn’t ever expect the timeline to blow up to the level it did. It blows my mind and I’m humbled by the support and response. It has been over 2 years since it was launched. Time flies! Of course, with the passage of time I look back and see things I think I could have worded better, but I’ve come to learn a lot of writers feel that way so I try not to think about it too much💜

Because I didn’t expect the blog to get as much attention as it did, my name and face are out there. Whereas a lot of people have the luxury of anonymity on platforms like twitter, I don’t. At this point I can’t change it so I just continue to upload sporadic personal updates because it is what it is now.

But due to that, and my anxiety, it means I’m a lot quieter. I tend to quietly like and RT posts. I love sassy, fiery Taekookers and do my best to like their posts as much as I can. But that’s just not my personal style as far as how I operate on platforms, to tweet and be loud. I admire those who do soooo much, and I have quite a few moots who do this and their tweets are favorites to read. I’m not going to apologize, though, because I’m quiet compared to others. I overthink things to the point even my simple tweets get read by three or four friends before I post. I highly doubt anyone else is like this! My mind works against me + I’ve seen people canceled for misconstrued things, and I’ve seen good friends doxed for an opinion, an opinion, which everyone is entitled to have, whether you agree or not, and it’s scary and disturbing. There’s life outside of Kpop and being online among strangers, but not for some people, sadly, and they have no problem taking their hateful hearts and malicious intents and harming people’s personal lives.

When I went to Vegas, harmless posts of me at the concert with a friend, taken by another friend + me posting my Taekook outfit, had hateful people quote tweeting us threatening violence. It was alarming, and it was sad. I still see those photos circulating with not so nice words. It’s disappointing people can be so vile over things like headbands (and it wasn’t just us wearing hybrid headbands). We made sure to enjoy the concert anyway, to not let their words have power over us. We didn’t spend that time and money for online keyboard trolls to ruin it. But it was not pleasant to see, tougher to get out of that negative headspace and enjoy the concert and it was a reminder I’m not interested in engaging with hateful people online.

I’m also tired of fandom police who think they should tell you who you should or shouldn’t follow, but that’s a complaint for another day.

I’d rather quietly and happily update my blog, tweet once in a while, and hype my moots who are loud. That’s my style. I barely even update on my personals on other platforms because it just gets to me. It shouldn’t. But it does. Anxiety just works that way. That’s just who I am. I’m here to support Taekook, not the people of the internet, and that means I’m going to support them in the way that is best for my mental health. The timeline takes up a lot of time, and I think some people fail to realize that. A 10 min video can easily take an hour to watch, draft, review and post, and I’m doing that in my free time, for free, because I want to and enjoy it. For me, my support comes from archiving their beautiful, precious moments. It may not be loud in the way some people tweet, but if we measured off of time and energy than I’d certainly be up there. I support in a different way is all.

Also - I think I’ve said this before, but I’m not in DMs, and haven’t been in quite some time. I hope no one finds this rude and I hope you understand. I’m very busy, more than anything. Plus, I don’t feel the need to be a temporary bandaid for someone’s insecurities or worries. Just believe what you like and don’t worry about what others think or say. I’m just here to support Taehyung and Jungkook, individually and together. And I believe, because they’re intrinsically good, humble people, beautiful inside and out, with so much talent, that the universe will always move in the favor. The rest - people’s negativity for instance - is background noise to me💜

I’m sorry if any of this disappoints people, and if someone has some sort of expectation of a level of loudness or response (on twitter for instance), but I’m under no obligation and I’m not going to feel pressured.

If this seems random, it’s because I’m tired of the occasional comment about it, and I wanted to address it. I hope you can understand.

All the love, Kayla💜

[dysfunctionalcrab]

cute vets, pets, and boys

Pairing: Quackity x reader

Pronouns: Gender neutral

Description: Tiger needs to go to vets. Over there, his owner meets a cute veterinary assistant (yes, I mean you)

Notes: Doctor Anderson is the name of an actual doctor I shadowed I couldn’t think of anything else okay, leave me alone.

His knee bounced up and down impatiently. The place was unusually packed today.

Tiger sat in his basket, loafed and with his eyes closed. Quackity’s heart ached for the small cat, the poor animal had stopped his regular eating habits. When he filled his bowl, it was only half finished, which was abnormal, since Tiger was usually finished within 10 minutes, and then meowed for some more.

He glanced at the clock, sighing after calculating that he had been been waiting for almost a whole hour, until a vaguely familiar man walked into the room with a clipboard. He was a middle aged man, grey hair and and stubble. He wore giant glasses with black frames. It was only when Quackity’s eyes landed on the name tag pinned to the pocket of his white lab coat, did he realise this was their regular vet.

“Alex!” He called out, looking up from his clipboard and locking eyes with him

Tiger hadn’t been to vet in ages, and when he did, it was usually his mom who took him, so to see him so enthusiastic, or even remember his name, startled him quite a bit.

He stood up, clutching the handle of the cat basket and lifting it off the floor.

“Doctor Anderson?” He tried to play it off as if he wasn’t reading his badge to remember his name.

“How have you been?” The doctor asked him.

“I’ve been good, busy, but good,”

“How are you? How is your mom?”

Quackity tried to be polite, answering all the questions he had. But in reality, he didn’t care about catching up with his vet, especially after waiting an hour of waiting just to even be spoken to while his cat sat miserably in his basket. It had entirely ruined his mood. He just wanted to know what was wrong with his cat.

He was relieved when Doctor Anderson finally ushered him into the room.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The other guy looked you, not in a weird way, but just to curious to who you were. You offered him a kind smile, and when you started to think wasnt going to, he returned it. Doctor Anderson watched the interaction from across the room.

“This is [Y/N],” he introduced, putting a gentle hand behind your back. “They’ve been shadowing me for the last 2 months, today is their final day,”

Quackity nodded, glancing towards you again, but less soft. Your smile dropped. You started to assume he wasn’t in a good mood today, especially since he probably had a sick animal with you. So, you resorted to standing in the corner of the room, just to observe.

“So then, how can I help you?” The doctor asked him

“I don’t know,” You watched him as he distressedly pushed his hair away, alongside fiddling and adjusting his beanie anxiously. “Tiger just hasn’t been eating lately and it’s been worrying me,”

Doctor Anderson opened up the basket and took out a small tabby cat who you now knew was named ‘Tiger’. Your heart awed at the cat, you loved cats. I mean, you loved animals in general, which was the reason you wanted to help them.

You watched as he started to check the cat, feeling his fur and his body for any irregularities. His face was fully focused, eyebrows furrowing. You could tell the owner was nervous since he was rubbing the seam of his shirt aggressively between his finger and thumb.

“Has Tiger ever-“

The door suddenly swung open with a loud creak. All your heads snapped towards the entrance, another doctor stood there, her face a little sweaty and she was huffing, completely out of breath

“Doctor- we need you please, it’s urgent,” She stated.

The doctor looked at you, and then looked at the cat, and then looked back at you. You felt yourself freeze in fear. You knew what he was asking, and you frantically shook your head, pleading with your eyes that he didn’t leave you alone.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, before taking off and dashing out the room,‘following the tinder woman. He accidentally slammed the door a little hard that the noise startled Tiger. He let out a small and scared meow.

You pursed your lips, looking down sympathetically at the cat. You then looked at his owner, he was giving you a blank, expressionless stare, his brown eyes told you he was a mixture of tired, irritated but concerned. You wondered how long he’d been waiting.

Quackity was nervous around pretty people, he was far from confident. After the way you smiled at him, he felt himself heat up. He’d be lying he if he said he didn’t find you cute.

If you weren’t in such a formal environment, he’d be initiating some sort of casual conversation with you to start things going, if he even knew how to. But now, especially since he had a sick cat with him, wasn’t the ideal situation. Your voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

“So,” you gnawed at your lip nervously. “He’s lost his appetite?

Quackity nodded slowly.

You hummed, observing her on the table. He was a cute little cat, his eyes were glossy and wide. You felt a pain in your chest at the poor thing. You had never been left alone with a patient before, so you were anxious to say the least.

“Has this ever happened before?” You asked

He shook his head. “Uh- no. No it hasn’t.”

You stroked her, he immediately nuzzled into your palm. You and him both locked eyes at the adorable moment.

“He’s cute,” You stated.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He is.”

He picked up a mental note of your interaction with him. It was uncommon that Tiger relaxed at someone’s touch so easily, usually he would do that at-least within a week of knowing or playing with them. He was also quite aggressive, living up to his name.

“You don’t need to worry, you know, I’m sure he’s fine, the worst it could be is like- kidney disease or something,”

His eyes widened

“Not that it is!” You took back, wishing you could swallow your words back up again. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just saying that he could-“

He raised an eyebrow at you, this time out of confusion of your rambling.

“I’ll stop talking now.” You muttered to yourself

You felt ridiculous, being so nervous. You couldn’t tell if it was from the pressure, or the fact he had a strong gaze on you.

“I’m going to check his teeth, if that’s okay?” You asked

Quackity stepped back abit from the table. “Yeah, yeah, of course, do whatever you need,”

You patted her head before positioning her so you could look at her mouth. You gently held her head and used your fingers carefully to pull her jaw open. It all looked pretty normal, until your eye fixated on one of her canines that were looking black at the root.

You sighed, observing it a little longer. You smiled, thankful that you found the problem. It was funny to you how this guy hadn’t even thought to check her mouth before-hand.

“Well, we’ve found the problem,” you said. Quackity stepped closer and watched to where you finger was pointing. “Just a bad tooth, it most likely hurts when he eats,”

You smiled at him reassuringly and he relaxed. His Tiger was going to be just fine

“So now what?” Quackity asked you, petting Tiger. He quietly purred

You ran your tongue at the seam of your lips. “I don’t know, I guess. I don’t think if it’s legally permissible for me to diagnose anything or 8 anything- I think,” you spoke awkwardly. “It’s better to just wait for the doctor to come back,”

He nodded again. The silence in the room was making it a little uncomfortable for the both of you, the only thing making it less... weird, was the cute little cat laying on the table.

“So, how long have you been shadowing him again?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, he was clearly just trying to make conversation with you to diffuse the awkwardness.

“For two months,” you answered. “Today is actually my last day.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, kind of disappointed actually, this experience has been quite nice. Now it’s back to textbooks and PowerPoint presentations, it’s like being stuck back in high school”

“I get that. Law school is just case after case and it can get boring sometimes,”

“Law school? Holy crap,” you said, before throwing a hand over your mouth, remembering he was still just a patient. “Sorry, excuse the language,”

He giggled nervously. “Don’t worry about about it,”

Conversation with him from then on was easy. It flowed quite smoothly, from talking about about school to other general things.

He liked the way you listened, Quackity knew that he waffled on about certain subjects a whole lot. But you seemed to actually be interested, your face lighting up every time. You found it sweet the way he talked so passionately about things, for a stranger, you were pretty intrigued.

You enjoyed his company for the next 30 minutes, still waiting for Doctor Anderson to come back after rushing out of the door. To be fair, It was nice to have conversation during the day that wasn’t with a fifty five year old man for once.

“But we have restaurants here like Chipotle, or Taco bell!” You exclaimed, now sitting beside him on one of the blue chairs.

“They’ve never been as good as the ones I’ve had in Mexico,” he told you.

“Well then I guess-“

Again. The noisy door swung open. Both your heads simultaneously turning towards it. The doctor walked back into the room, his hair was a little ruffled and messy. He came in as if he was looking for a certain something, and then his eyes landed on you.

“[Y/N]? What are you still doing here?” He questioned, looking at his watch. “It’s past four o’clock,”

You took out your phone from your back pocket. Damn, time really flew by and you didn’t even realise.

“We were just talking about Tiger, he’s got a bad tooth,” you said

The doctor smiled at you. “Good work, [Y/N]!” He said, pride overtaking his voice. “But it’s really time for you to go home. You can pack up your things now and relax! You’re finally finished!”

“Oh-,” you said, feeling the slightest bit disappointed as you looked at Quackity. “Thank you,”

You stood up and hesitantly slipped off the spare white lab coat, folding it up and placing it in on a nearby counter.

You looked at Quackity again, his eyes were almost saying ‘sorry’ for you having to leave.

Quackity watched you leave the room. His mood dropping straight away. He knew he wasn’t going to speak to you again after this.

The doctor started talking to him again, giving him advice for Tiger and how they would deal with the problem. However, the unfortunate problem was, his attention was focused on you. You know sometimes you talk to someone once and then for the rest of the year you constantly think about that interaction? Yeah, that’s how he was feeling. He had no idea why you had suddenly invaded all his thoughts.

Too bad you’d left without so much of a goodbye.

If only he built up the courage and asked for your number.

———

Masterlist

Taglist: @inniterhq @basilly @nite-land @bunnyloo @siriushxney @notphilosopherstudentblog @tinyegg @dreamiewrites @kai-was-here @shiyanchan