#industrial aftercare is probably hell

[just-otter-thoughts]

I probably!!!! Have good anatomy for an industrial piercing. On BOTH ears.

The flap of cartilage is there on both helix and reverse helix, the flat doesn't protrude forwards a lot, and there's space behind the reverse helix. So. I probably have good chances of a successful industrial.

All I'm lacking is the money lol

[honeytama]

Please Please Please

Matt Dierkes x Musician!Fem!Reader

A/N: Sabrina Carpenter reference? Likely. I’m always writing Matt things when I should writing something else. Enjoy!

Summary: While at the Rock Sound Awards afterparty, you’re alerted that a frontman from another band is throwing a tantrum over your band’s win. You’re pissed, but level-headed knowing you shouldn’t do anything about it. One of your friends, not so much. You relieve him of the stress the best way you know how.

Content and Warnings: Reader is in a metalcore band, friends to lovers, smut 18+, bathroom sex/semi public, raw p n v, squirting, facial, aftercare

Word Count: 2.7k

“Y/N,” your bandmate sings in your ear as you dance with Courtney LaPlante on the Rock Sound Awards afterparty dance floor.

“What’s up?” You ask him while keeping hold of Courtney’s hip as she sways with you to Fergie.

“Our favorite band is pissed at us, again,” he sings again while shamelessly pointing his thumb over to the corner of the room.

“Our favorite band?” You whip your head around to the corner and spot them. They’re huddled together, as always, with the frontman looking angry and annoyed as all hell. “Oh. Them. What now?”

“They don’t like that we won Best Live Act for the second year in a row,” he starts dancing with the two of you. “Frontman is throwing a hissy fit as always and calling you out by name. He says your production ideas and things you came up with for us to do onstage are a joke.”

You let go of Courtney and they both can see you’re beginning to fume. “Well, if he wants to talk about me, then he might as well come say it to my face. I’m not here for drama! I’m here to have fun!” You yell over the music.

“Y/N,” your bandmate says your name in a tone that tells you you have to get ready for what he's about to say next.

“What?” You hiss.

“They’ve started a rumor that we only won because you’ve started to show more skin on stage,” your bandmate says, cautiously.

You let out a gasp and turn to give your rival frontman a harsh glare. You want so badly to give him the finger or to go storming over there to give them a piece of your mind. But you can’t. You have to remain professional for many reasons; most importantly, the cameras that float around are held by Rock Sound hires.

“What I do with my body is none of their fucking business!” You start to walk towards the restroom in the back of the venue, “I’m going to go take a breather.”

“Let me come with you,” Courtney urges while holding your forearm.

“It’s ok, babe,” you pat her to reassure her and she lets go. “I’ll be back later.”

Your feet take you as fast as you possibly can go in your chunky heels. It doesn’t help that your short, black strapless dress keeps riding down your chest.

“Hey, buddy, where are you going so fast?” Matt steps into your beeline towards the back hallways. “Congrats on your win, by the way. I knew you would get it,” he smiles wide down at you.

“Thank you, Matt—” you give him a sheepish smile back before noticing what he’s wearing. You don’t bother hiding your eyes looking him up and down. He’s wearing a tuxedo and dress shoes, still with a black cap on his hair, but he looks so good. “I haven’t seen you all night. I’m sorry.” You pull your friend into a hug.

“It’s okay?” He notices you aren’t completely there. Usually, you were ecstatic to see Matt, he’s probably your closest friend in the industry. He and Bad Omens put your band’s name out there; you had him to thank for this award. Coming to your side, you two walk together to the back hallway. It’s quieter. No cameras. There are no other bands. Just you and Matt. “What’s wrong?”

“Fucking, ugh!” You clench your hands in front of your eyes. You want to punch something so bad. “That fucking band I told you about! The one from last year! They started a rumor that the only reason we won tonight is because of my stage outfits,” you grunt out while pulling the lapels of Matt’s tux jacket.

Matt’s face twists from concerned to heated. “What? Like, slut shaming you? Are they being fucking real?”

Tears start to well up in your eyes out of anger and shame.

“How can they say shit like that when both their drummer and bassist play with their shirts off the entire show?” He barks.

“I know it’s fucking hypocritical. They’ll never realize that.” You rub his lapel soothingly. You’re glad he understands, but oh, God, what have you started?

“Maybe they need my fist in their jaws to realize it?” His eyebrows furrow and his eyes turn a shade darker. His lips purse like he’s holding himself back from saying something else.

“Matt, it’s okay,” you try to get through to him. “Just talking to you is helping me.”

“I’m gonna go do something about it.” Suddenly Matt is out of your grasp and you're jogging to catch him by the waist.

“Please, please, please,” you plead him while hugging him from behind. You use all your strength to tug him back with your hands pressed firmly on his pectorals and stomach. “Matty, please, you’ll embarrass me.” He halts in the middle of the hallway and it gives you enough time to wrap around to his front and press your hands into his chest, pushing him backward. “If you go out there and start something with him, then his band will know it was me that told you about the issue. I don’t need you to fight for me.”

His eyes peer into yours as you look up at him pleadingly. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this yourself! Those fucking assholes deserve what’s coming to them.”

“Matt, no,” you urge him with a pout in your lip.

“If I don’t go out there and defend you, then I’ll be thinking about it all night,” he hisses. “You don’t get it, Y/N. I need to do this,” he grabs your hands from his chest planning to storm out into the party again.

You step into him one last time, hoping what you’ll say next will get him to stop, finally. “Then take it out on me.” The words sound like they’re blaring in your ears, but you know they came out as a whisper.

His feet unmoving now, he holds your wrists to your sides. “What was that?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

“You heard me,” you roll your eyes and clench your fists. Why did he have to be such a tease?

“I know,” he smiles. “Just say it, again.”

“Take your frustration out on me,” you gaze into his eyes. “We can go to the bathroom.” You nod behind him at the empty women’s restroom.

His dominant hand makes its way to the small of your back and leads you down the hall to the sleek door of the bathroom. You do your best to keep up with his eagerness while in your heels.

You both push into the pristine, pearlescent room lined with shiny counter-to-ceiling mirrors, white marble countertops, and quartz flooring. Your heels click against the tiles as you make your way to the sink counters. You watch as Matt removes his jacket and locks the restroom door behind him.

He comes to you, quickly, and presses your body into the counter. The square edge of it digs into the fat of your ass as he makes his first move on your exposed chest. With hunger, he kisses, sucks, and licks the skin between your breasts up to your neck. Your whines reverberate in the empty room and you hope everyone is too distracted at the party to hear you. Your hands find themselves behind Matt’s neck, interlacing your fingers in his hair to fully pull him in. You wanted him to mark you.

Matt moans at the feeling of his dick pressing into your clit as the dress has ridden up in the process of him feasting on your skin. He undoes his belt buckle and the sound of the jingle makes your thighs quiver. Matt pulls his dress shirt from his pants and rolls up the sleeves. The sight of his toned forearms and tattoos always turns you on. He zips down his slacks before commanding, “Turn around.” You do so and lift your dress over your ass for him to see you barely covered by your tiny thong. “I want you to see yourself in the mirror when you cum on my cock.” He hooks his index finger through your thong to pull it to the side.

You gulp as you watch him tug the front of his brief down and pull his half-hard dick out. Shamefully stealing glances at the imprint of dick as you two changed next to each other on a past tour, you still would have never guessed he would be that girthy. “Matt, please, go slow. You’re bigger than I expected,” you admit.

“I thought you wanted me to take my frustration out on you,” he shakily breathes out while rubbing his tip along your slick slit.

“Didn’t think I would actually be sore in the morning,” you taunt him. He forces a moan out of you when his hard tip finds your pulsating clit. He teases you with small circles and slaps your cunt with his cock, before going right back to soft circles again. You didn’t think his dick could get harder and bigger as he played with your pussy, but it does. Your breath hitches when you feel his tip tickling your entrance.

“You’re not going to snap back from this,” he taunts as he presses himself into you. “You’ll fit me like a glove,” he groans. Luckily, with the height from your heels, your pussy is at the most perfect height for him to enter you with ease.

Matt watches your face twist in the mirror as you adjust to his size. You try to grip onto anything: the marble countertop, the polished sink, the faucet hardware? But to no avail, you keep slipping. Your legs already feel like jelly. Luckily, Matt puts both of his strong hands on your hips and supports you. You notice from his hard grasp that he’s still pissed, and you ignore the pain to urge him, “Matt, fuck me.”

He grunts and pulls your hips fully into his dick, bottoming himself out.

You moan in unison.

“Fuck—“ “Baby,—“

Your chest rubs against the cold counter as he fucks into you mercilessly. Whenever you whine or moan on his cock, the noises bounce off the mirror and you sound like heaven to your own ears. Matt smiles down at the reflection in front of him that has drool coming down her lips and hands that are searching for something to grab onto. You leave fingerprints on the mirror in front of you during your search.

The squelching and wetness of your cunt is the worst. You believe that if anyone outside of the room could hear anything, it would be that. Matt revels in the sound of his hips meeting yours as he fucks you as no other man has before.

His dick hits every spot, too. Especially the soft, bumpy spot at the roof of your cunt. His mauve tip hits it so perfectly that it makes you squeak with every thrust. The pressure building up in your lower stomach is something you’ve never felt before. It’s scary and makes you want to push Matt away, but the punishingly delicious feeling forces you to fuck Matt back.

Matt watches in awe as you gain the energy to press your hips to meet his while he pumps into you. “So. Fucking. Hot,” he grunts as he slaps your ass with each word.

“Matty, I’m gonna cum—,” the broken words come out of your moaning mouth.

“Go ahead,” he reaches around your head to grip your chin, lifting you higher up the mirror to see you clearly.

“Matt—!” Something is different than usual. Heat builds up fast and you feel like you want to pee. Without thinking anymore, you relax and let go. Something sprays your lips and trickles down your leg as Matt continues to pump himself into your sopping pussy.

You two moan in tandem at the realization of your actions. He allows you to ride out your high as he slows his thrusts. “Did you just squirt?” Matt chuckles as he pulls out slowly. His fingertips trail down your soaked cunt and thighs; it makes you shutter.

“Yes? I’ve never done that before,” your heart feels like it’s racing itself as you face yourself in the mirror. His dark eyes meet yours as he grins deliciously; he makes you feel proud of yourself.

“Where do you want me to come?” He breathes out while stroking himself languidly.

“Anywhere,” you nod your head as if saying “yes” to any place he can think of.

“On your knees, then. Let me ruin your makeup some more,” he suggests.

You take one last look in the mirror and notice your makeup is fucked. Spots of your foundation on your chin and cheeks are gone from being pressed into the counter, your eyeliner and mascara have smudged, and your lip combo has gone to nothing. It’s mixed with your drool and now dried on your chin. Fuck it.

You take his hint by slowly turning and dropping to your knees before him. Usually, no man could ever convince you to kneel before him on a bathroom floor, but Matt just gave you the best dick of your life, so…

Whatever power you have, you let it go for him. The way his demeanor changes when he wants to defend you and show he cares for you is not only heartwarming, but it turns you on. So tonight, he can have whatever he wants.

You stick your tongue out below him and bat your eyelashes as he strokes himself. You act like you're thirsty for his cum, because you are. You want to know what he tastes like so bad. This works on him. He growls as he unloads his cum in sprays that hit your cheek, forehead, and on your open lips. It just misses your eager tongue.

Matt hums when you lick your lips to try him. The salty tang isn’t amazing, but what is is the satisfying look on his face. He’s so impressed by you, in so many ways.

“Ready to stand?” He asks as he tucks his dick away and hikes his pants up.

Your head is hazy and you look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Mhm,” you hum softly. You take his extended hand and slowly get up. Nearly slipping again, he catches you with an arm around your waist.

Once you're supported by the counter again, he lightly wets a paper towel with warm water to clean you up.

“Do you feel better?” You ask him as he carefully wipes his relief from your face.

“I do, thanks…” he kisses the cheek he’s not cleaning. “Do you feel better?” He reaches into your purse which you’ve thrown into the sink earlier and grabs two makeup wipes.

“So much better,” you respond while wiping away the sad remnants of your makeup. “Fuck them!”

“Fuck them!” He agrees with a smile.

“Either way, we should avoid them tonight. They don’t deserve our attention,” you tell Matt. “Will you come to dance with me to celebrate my win?”

“You know I don’t—,” he starts. You both start to walk towards the door.

“Please, please, please,” you beg him with your hands clenched together as he unlocks the door and ushers you out of the restroom.

“Fine, just one song,” he agrees with a huff and takes your hand in his.

The familiar tune of Sabrina Carpenter's ‘Espresso’ plays over the speakers in the main room and you hear excited screams.

“C’mon!” you yelp and scurry in your heels with Matt in tow to the dance floor.

[pillage-and-lute]

Pins and Needles: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

———- 🌷 🐺 🌷———-

The butter yellow of the awning of the new tattoo shop carried on inside. The color scheme was classy, though. 

During Geralt’s mostly misspent youth, he’d been inside his fare share of tattoo and piercing parlors. He’d never gotten a tattoo, and his piercings had mostly been his own work, but still, the culture seeped in. He had learned to expect a lot of red and black and exposed brickwork. There was nothing wrong with that look, but he considered the interior of Pins and Needles to be much more friendly. 

The walls were a deep blue, denim, if he had to name it, or perhaps Prussian Blue. It was on all the walls, and the ceiling, with the floor in a dark, smooth wood. He wasn’t sure if that was kept from the last shop or was newly installed. The counter was in the same polished, dark wood, so he supposed it was new. All the accents were dandelion yellow, or yellow brass if they were metal. His leg brushed up against a velveteen chair, something of a vintage style, and of course, in that same buttery yellow. 

The waiting area had the chair, a matching loveseat, and a high-backed chaise lounge in a teal color. It had more green to it’s color than the walls, and was in a lighter shade, but it was adjacent to the color of the walls, and a pleasing focal point. Overall, Geralt was impressed. The blue and yellow color scheme could have easily been overdone, but it was masterful, and clearly completed by someone with an eye for color. 

Ciri was delightedly pouring over a piercing display. Geralt was startled to realize he owned the exact display box. It was, in fact, a large glass terrarium, the metal that same shiny brass. The shelves of piercing were cleverly angled and set within the case so that they were all visible. 

“Nice display case, isn’t it?” 

Geralt turned, and there was Jaskier. He had a BB8 coffee mug in his hand, and a shimmery teal shirt unbuttoned low. It framed his sternum and the peaks of color visible through his chest hair and pointing down in a tempting arrow to--

“urk,” Geralt said, choking on his own tongue. 

“Priscilla found it on the side of the road one day, the legs were scuffed to hell and one was missing, but the glass was intact, so she took it back to her house and fixed it up.”

“I have the same one,” Geralt managed, the tips of his ears reddening.

“Oh, as a display case?”

“Um, it’s a terrarium.”

“Is it really?” Jaskier beamed and Geralt felt like he was dying. “I always thought it was a funny shape. It makes such a lovely focal point along that wall though.”

Ciri was beaming as well. “Dad keeps succulents in his. Is Priscilla the lady that does piercings?”

“She is,” Jaskier said, tilting his head so that his hair flopped and Gerald got a better view of his undercut and dangling chain of a cuff piercing on his ear. “Are you in the market for a piercing, miss...”

“Ciri,” she said, sticking her hand out to shake. “And my dad might get a tattoo sometime, but he’s being a baby about it and doesn’t know what he wants.”

Jaskier shook her hand and levelled a devastating grin at Geralt. “Well, some things aren’t to be rushed, but if your dad ever want’s a tattoo, I’ll give him anything he wants.”

Geralt desperately tried to reel his thoughts in from the absolute trainwreck that that statement illicited. Obviously Jaskier was just trying to sell his craft not offer...anything else. 

“Are you taking walk-ins for piercings?” Ciri asked. 

“Absolutely,” Jaskier said, turning and shouting. “Priscilla?” Down the hall of the shop where, presumably, the actuall tattooing and piercing rooms were. 

“YEah?” came the response. 

“Got a consult for you!”

She poked her head out of a room, smiled quickly, popped back in for a second, then emerged. “Hiya, sorry, I was just doing a little sketching, how can I help?”

“I’d like an industrial piercing please,” Ciri said. 

Priscilla tilted her head, eyes squinting slightly as she, apparently, assesed Ciri’s ears. “That’ll suit you well, left or right side?”

“Left.”

“Cool,” she looked to Geralt. “I’m assuming you’re the dad?”

“Uh, yes,” Geralt said, feeling wildly out of his depth. 

“Great, and does she have your permission for the piercing?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, absolutely.”

“Cool,” Priscilla said, digging behind the counter. “I’ve got paper work for both of you, and then we can get this lovely lady poked full of holes.”

Geralt’s stomach flipped over. Despite how many times he had actually stuck a fucking sewing needle through his own ear as a teenager, he couldn’t stand the thought of normal piercing needles. 

“It’s okay, Dad,” Ciri said as they were handed paperwork and pens. “You don’t have to hold my hand or anything, you can wait out here.”

“Great,” Geralt said, looking at the paperwork. Pretty standard stuff, parental release, aftercare papers, all that. He signed quickly and returned the relevant documents, keeping the aftercare instructions. 

“Thanks very much,” Priscilla said, checking for signatures before smiling at Ciri again. “Got any jewelry picked out?” They walked over to the case as Ciri gestured to some. 

Jaskier was looking at Geralt assessingly over the top of his coffee mug. “You know,” he said. “Most dads aren’t this cool about piercings.” He licked a bit of foam off of his lip and Geralt tried very hard to pretend that he hadn’t seen the flash of a tongue piercing. 

“I, uh, I’ve got plenty of bad ones, I’d rather she got her’s done professionally.”

“Bad ones?” Priscilla’s head jerked up. “Can I see?”

Geralt nodded as she was already bustleing over. He brushed the strands of hair that escaped his ponytail back so she could see his ears. 

“Amatur work for sure, although no lasting damage, where’d you get these done?” 

Geralt flushed. “I did them, uhm, way back.”

“Oh god, you didn’t buy one of those cheep piercing guns, did you?” Priscilla asked, poking gently at Geralt’s ear so she could look at the back of the piercings. Jaskier smiled at Geralt’s probably confused expression. 

“No, I used a needle.”

Priscilla pulled back, eyes wide. “A sewing needle?”

Geralt shrugged guiltily.

“Yeah, okay,” she said quickly, turning to Ciri. “Hold out your pinky, you have to make me a promise.”

Ciri’s brow furrowed, but she linked pinky fingers with the excitable piercer. 

“I promise,” Priscilla said, gesturing with her other hand for Ciri to repeat after her.

“I promise,” Ciri said. 

“Not to pierce myself.”

“Not to pierce myself,” Ciri said, smiling.

“No matter what my dad did.”

“No matter what my dad did,” Ciri finished. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

“Good,” Priscilla said, releasing Ciri’s pinky from it’s hold and sending a theatrical shiver of disgust toward Geralt. “A sewing needle, yikes. C’mon kiddo, we’re gonna stick a needle through your ear, and I’ll show you how a real piercer does it.”

She hurried Ciri into the back room, grabbing a couple sealed packages on the way, needle and jewelry, Geralt presumed. 

“Don’t mind Prissy,” Jaskier said. “She’s just very big on piercing safety.”

“No, I agree,” Geralt said. “I was a really stupid kid back then.”

Jaskier smiled and came out from around the counter a bit, leaning against the side, hip jutting in those ungodly tight leather pants. “Ciri seems pretty smart though, does she get it from her mother?”

“Um,” Geralt said, the sight of those long, leather-wrapped legs making his mouth weirdly dry. “I suppose? Her dad was pretty smart, too.”

“Ah, so you’re not her biological dad?” Jaskier said, leaning forward. Geralt wondered for a second if he was fishing, but surely not, pretty tattoo artists didn’t flirt with frumpy guys like him. 

“No, uh, but I’ve been her guardian since she was just a baby so...”Geralt trailed off, unsure how to finish.

“That’s very cute.” Jaskier’s eyes trailed down Geralt, then back up. To his shame, Geralt realized he hadn’t even removed his apron. 

“You know,” Jaskier said, conversationally. “My dad would have never even thought about letting me get a piercing.”

Geralt looked over the form in front of him, piercings in each ear, more than one, even, a nose ring, and that ellusive tongue ring, as well as the colorful tattoos that swarmed over his skin. “That worked out well for him,” he said without thinking, then blushed.

Jaskier, though, laughed, head back, shoulders shaking. “Indeed,” he said at last. “I shrugged off my father’s wishes rather fully, I think.” 

The bell rang as another person entered the shop and Geralt stepped aside as Jaskier went back behind the counter. He sat on the yellow chair and watched Jaskier’s lips--and that hint of silver on his tongue-- as he made the young woman a tattoo appointment. 

Jaskier’s hands, full of rings and swirling ink, were so quick on the computer keys, and when he talked with them, they were so expressive. 

Geralt wanted to hold one. 

Unfortunately, by the time the young woman was gone and Geralt could have possibly had Jaskier’s full attention again, Ciri was all done. Geralt paid, thanked both Jaskier and Priscilla, and went over the care instructions, before he and Ciri crossed the road. 

It felt very much like a retreat. 

———- 🌷 🐺 🌷———-

Tag List!

@jaybeefoxy @sweetiepieplum  @holymotherwolf

[blackstonesandtrapnest]

Ma’am MA’AM those yasu headcanons slayed me. I was 🥺🥺 in awe afterwards. Thank you for writing them!!!! By any chance would you be willing to write some for Shin too? 👁 sfw + nsfw, if you’re comfortable with it ahajsjdjddjd

Awww thank you for the kind words Anon! Yes I will definitely write for Shin! Such a gorgeous boy isn’t he? :) Also Shin is indeed aged up for reasons that should be obvious! Also NSFW under the cut!

~~SFW~~

Shin honestly doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships. He’s self-destructive to the point of self-sabotage and his self-esteem and self-worth have been shot to hell quite frankly. Pursuing a relationship with Shin outright is ill-advised as you are definitely gonna get rejected.

Shin may be young but he’s not stupid. If you have any ulterior motives, keep it moving because Shin won’t go any further than a fuck-buddy relationship with you. He’s already used to women simply using him for his body and you’re not gonna fool him.

Shin doesn’t let people get close to him and he’s quite secretive. You’ll only find out what he wants you to find out. Don’t bother snooping as that’ll only make Shin angry and far less likely to open to you. Mind your own business and don’t be a snitch!

Needless to say, getting into a relationship with Shin will definitely be slow-burn. Emphasis on the word slow. If you want Shin to trust and open up to you, you’ll have to prove yourself to him and show that you genuinely care about him. Even then, there are probably still some things that Shin will probably never open up to you about and you’ll just have to accept that.

Once Shin feels like he can truly trust and love you, he’ll shower you with so much affection and it’s so adorable! He has a great need for security so expect a lot of hugs, kisses, and words of affirmation! No Shin doesn’t care who’s watching and if he’s being teased, he’ll pull a Reverse Uno on them to shut them up.

Shin’s need for security does extend to money which is the main source for how ambitious he is. He’s used to being spoiled so buying gifts for him doesn’t really do much for your relationship. He doesn’t mind when you do things for him and definitely appreciates it but it’s not the way to his heart. That being said, Shin will definitely support you in your own ambitions and if they happen to fall within the music industry, that’s even better! He’ll have your back no matter what!

Shin is very rebellious and does NOT like people telling him what to do or trying to enforce rules on him. He does what he wants when he wants. If you’re the kind of person who prefers being dominate in your relationship, you’ll definitely have a rude awakening with Shin. He can be quite a little shithead at times so you two will definitely have many arguments regardless. Making up can take a while because Shin will definitely hold a grudge against you. At this point, it’s best to just give him space so you can both cool off and try to resolve things.

Shin is quite possessive and wants all or nothing from you. He’ll put 100% effort into your relationship and wants the same from you in return. Shin isn’t worried about anyone taking you away from him but if he is feeling insecure, you’re gonna know about it without a doubt. He doesn’t contemplate and immediately goes in head-first when there’s a problem with you two. If someone is trying to get in between you two or simply be nosy, they’re gonna face Shin’s wrath and it won’t be pretty.

Shin is quite a wild person and loves taking risks as well as trying his luck. Perfect for a daredevil and someone who simply loves to let loose and have a good time! Speaking of which..........

~~NSFW~~

There’s a difference between having sex for money and having sex for pleasure which Shin has come to realize. With you, Shin wants nothing but pleasure, passion, and intimacy. Because of this, he’ll actually be a bit reluctant to have sex with you the first time around. He doesn’t want a simple fuck this time around and if it’ll be your first time having sex in general, Shin wants it to be special and unforgettable.

The minute you two start having sex, Shin considers your relationship official but he won’t stop prostituting either. But not because he wants to have his cake and eat it too. Shin only does it for survival and the money. If BLAST has hit it big by the time you two get together, then Shin will stop hooking without a second thought. The only person he wants on his dick is you and you alone! If you happen to be rich and successful, that will also make Shin stop hooking.

Despite his young age, Shin is vastly experienced and definitely has a high sex drive. He’s like the damn Energizer bunny! But if your sex drive is lower than his (which it most likely will be), then Shin will accommodate you and won’t push you to have more sex than you can handle.

Shin’s very open-minded so don’t be afraid to tell him what you like and don’t like. Talking about sex is like second nature to him and he has no shame. If you have any insecurities about your body or your performance, don’t be afraid to tell Shin about them. He’ll definitely make you feel better ;)

Shin’s utmost favorite kink is praise, both giving and receiving. Calling him a good boy will absolutely drive him insane and he also likes being called baby boy as well. Yes Shin has a Mommy/Mistress kink and yes he’s a sub. He may not like being dominated outside the bedroom but he definitely loves being dominated inside of it! Don’t be afraid to be rough with Shin either! He can handle it ;) When giving praise, Shin is absolutely filthy and quite detailed. You will definitely be blushing and at a loss for words once he starts talking!

Shin’s favorite positions include this, this, this, and this. He prefers rough and passionate fucking but if you want romantic love-making, he’ll give you that too! Shin will definitely fuck you in the studio and not give a single damn about it! Good thing the place is soundproof (it was his idea)! He will also fuck you backstage before and after a show! In fact, Shin isn’t afraid to have sex with you in risky places at all! Quickies are definitely his specialty and the risk of getting caught and/or being overheard is too good to pass up for Shin! You can also expect some sexting to happen as well!

It’s rare for Shin to be the dom but when he is, boy are you in for some fun! He likes to be called Master and he is one of the biggest teases ever! Shin definitely has many items and toys that he uses in bed with you and having a safeword with him is paramount since he can get pretty rough and sadistic and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.

A big no-no with Shin is verbal humiliation and degradation. He already has low self-esteem and self-worth as it is and he doesn’t need you adding to it with that kind of stuff. As for physical humiliation, Shin is more accepting of it but still has his limits. He also won’t use it on you as he doesn’t wanna be a hypocrite. But if you insist, prepare to walk funny for about a week!

Shin’s aftercare isn’t really the best since he’s usually the one receiving it so you’ll be the one doing the work. He definitely will have a cigarette after sex and loves to take a bubble bath with you while exchanging pillow talk and cuddling. This is when Shin will be at his most vulnerable so cherish it as much as possible because he’ll most likely tell you things that he hasn’t told a single soul. Please don’t abuse this or take it for granted!

[smileysuh]

i have to ask... bc im yr cambaby anon... but yr masterlist says one sided pining and i have to ask... is the reader pining or are some of the idols pining after her (well ik she thinks the world of jin and johnny) - 🍓

the idols all pine for her! thanks for the question bb, look, let me show you, i tried to make all the guys soft for her in ways, some are obvious like Jaehyun, but some are softer and more show it with their actions :) all of these quotes are found in the end of the fics ;)

this is a pretty lengthy analysis lol, but you can see the progression of the series quite well i think :)

Mark Tuan :

When he comes to a stop, you both just kneel there for a few moments, catching your breaths. Then the coin noise interrupts your thoughts and Mark chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “say goodnight to your fans and come cuddle.” he tells you, sliding from your cunt and collapsing on his bed, quickly hiding under the covers

This section is in cambaby's perspective so i can't dive into Mark's thoughts, so we have to show his pining in actions.

Mark's very soft and quiet, but the domesticity and comfort in him jus saying 'say goodnight to your fans and come cuddle' like- soft boy, in my experience, fuck buddies aren't HUGE cuddlers you know?

Jaebum :

when your phone is away, you turn to look at Jaebeom. He strokes your face, fingers coming to touch the collar still on your neck. He takes it off gently, putting it on his bedside table.

You like the quiet with Jaebeom, every second needn’t be filled by word

Another section in y/n's perspective means we can't say what Jaebum is thinking so we have to look at his actions

the way he touches her so lovingly- softly touching the collar and gently taking it off, this is soft aftercare and the comfort they have in each other is obvious in the silence im so soft for them

Lucas / Hendery / Johnny :

“What about aftercare?” Hendery’s voice is unsure, wide eyes darting between you and your two big protectors.

Johnny scoffs, “what do you two know about aftercare? Look at Lucas, he’s about to pass out.”

Lucas does look really tired.

Lucas simply shrugs, tugging you to his chest so he can press a kiss to your mouth, his tongue invading your mouth before he bites down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his face, “see you later baby.”

this scene has 4 people in it but is mostly y/n's 2nd person pov, so again, body language of the boys is key

Hendery is whipped and asks about aftercare because he's soft boy

Lucas is tired but he makes sure to say goodbye and use pet names, he's a lazy kind of lover but it works for him i think

Johnny showing up at all to drive them home goes to show how whipped he is for cam baby lol

Jinyoung :

he never falls asleep easier than when you’re with him, and you’re already passed out. But tonight, it takes a while for Jinyoung to get out of his own thoughts, too many anxieties running through his head.

Five orgasms was enough. One for each man you’ve slept with on camera. He’s not sure why that number means something to him, he doubts you’ll even consider it. But for some reason, it calms something bubbling in his chest.

You mumble his name in your sleep, and it’s the last thing he hears before passing out, a smile on his lips, cheek nestled against your forehead

our first scene in the dude's pov so we can see their feelings!

Jinyoung has the domestic watching you sleep trait, and he uses this time to face his anger and jealousy. although he doesn't overtly state he loves the reader, the clues in this scene are enough to hint that he does ;) like what's softer than falling asleep with a smile after kissing the forehead of the girl you just fucked the shit out of-

Taehyung :

“Stay the night.” Taehyung says, kissing your forehead as he cuddles you tighter, “and for breakfast.”

You laugh a little, humming with happiness as you burrow yourself deeper into the embrace. “How could I skip breakfast when I’m your main dish?” you tease.

Taehyung smiles, fuck, he loves-

Oof. He has to reel in his thoughts. Love is not on the table. It never has been.

Then why the hell does he keep feeling this way about you?

He’d met you through Namjoon originally. The entire maknae line had been in awe of you that first night, and you’d closely become friends with them all. Namjoon had told them all later that you were friends with a lot of idols and had worked in the industry for a while. He’d said you were discreet and a great companion, someone who understood what they were going through with work.

Someone who wouldn’t be a risk. Your feelings would never be compromised. Namjoon said you had a handle on your emotions and that friends with benefits with you would never result in any unwanted or sticky feelings.

On your end at least.

The sex is great, you’re a great girl, wonderful to talk to- who wouldn’t fall in love with you?

Taehyung looks down at you, you’re already asleep. He brushes a finger across your cheek, removing a stray lash that was there. He looks at the lash for a moment on the pad of his finger. After a moment of reflection, he blows it away and makes a wish, although he knows it will never come true.

Taehyung's pov really sheds light on a lot of this. it sets y/n as an idol fuck buddy (referred to tae by rm) who's good at not catching any 'sticky/unwanted feelings' so this alludes to the fact that she's probably not catching feels with ANY of her fuck buddies

Tae solidifies 'who wouldn't fall in love with [y/n]' hinting that everyone in the series is in love with her

taehyung knows it's one-sided pining when he makes a wish on a stray eye lash :(

Jaehyun :

They act as if this is the most normal thing in the world, Johnny pulling you to his side so you can taste his cooking. Johnny makes you open your mouth so he can spoon feed you, making an ‘ah’ sound that has Jaehyun’s skin heating with jealousy.

He has to remind himself, you’re not his.

And, from the way you look up at Johnny with stars in your eyes, he realizes you may never be.

our most recent boy Jaehyun, like Jinyoung, also gets his own inner monologue of jealousy :(

this solidifies Jae's pining, but also Johnny's again when he babies y/n and feeds her at the stove, because Johnny is low key the central figure of the series lol

[flyingcatstiel]

Cap - Iron Man Rec Week 2020, Tropey Tuesday

Tropey Tuesday, June 16th: “Team movie nights!” Come and rec works that have your favorite tropes. A stony fic recs for @cap-ironman community. <3

Hurt/comfort, Established relationship, Hanahaki disease, Identity P*rn and Fake relationship are some of my favorite tropes. Do plot twists count as tropes? There's couple of those as well!

all of our faces by Myrime [NR, 7,514 word count]

Married life has done wonders for Tony. He has mostly cut down on his working hours, he eats regularly, he takes care not to accidentally blow himself up in his lab. Life is good. Then Steve comes home bleeding and that carefully built house of cards threatens to fall apart.

Established relationship with not so secret secrets and wonderful  if belated communication. 

I Mean It, I'm Okay! (Trust Me) by casuallyneurotic [T, 5,051 word count]

Steve has had it with Tony skipping out on the debriefings after battles. When he goes to confront him, he's reminded that Tony isn't the untouchable person he pretends to be. (This is just another one of those fics where Steve sees through Tony's blustering and realizes he's been an asshole to him.)

Tony is hurting and this time Steve is gonna do something about it. A very emotional read with all the right punches.

like i don't even know who you are by nightwalker [NC-7, 6,400 word count]

  The divorce papers were just as unsigned as they had been an hour ago.

Didn’t expect so much hurt and so much comfort in such a modest word count. Very, very nice!

Mercy in You by Sineala [M, 9,598 word count]

When Tony comes back from a very bad D/s date, in pain and abandoned by his dom, Steve offers to help Tony out and give him all the aftercare he so desperately needs.

Steve gently taking care of hurt Tony while they both hide their feelings? Yes, I’d read another 100k of it.

Nobody Panic, Everything's Fine by itsallAvengers [T, 14,271 word count]

Steve doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. Honestly. It's just...well- Tony's been spending an awful lot of time with a new employee. Who's smarter than him. And funnier. And more interesting and generally a better match for Tony than he ever would be. But he's not jealous. Honestly.

Established relationship with insecure, self doubting Steve and oblivious Tony? An absolute must read!

Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree by Annie D (scaramouche) [NC-17, 21,092 word count]

Steve doesn’t mind that Tony doesn’t return his feelings. He just would've preferred if it didn’t come with the side effect of his coughing up flowers and possibly dying.

Right now, this is the longest stony fic with Hanahaki disease trope. And boy, does it cover a lot of ground. Every possible flavor of angst is here. But the thing that killed me was Steve's reasons why he declined to remove the flowers even if it could save his life. That’s the essence of love.

Role of a Lifetime by Annie D (scaramouche) [NC-17, 60,810 word count]

It’s been almost a year since Tony was rescued from the Ten Rings by SHIELD. In this time, Tony has forged a new path for Stark Industries and taken on a new under-the-radar role as a consultant for SHIELD. Tony’s SHIELD job eventually brings him into contact with the newest Captain America, who’s a pretty cool guy, though for security reasons Tony can’t know his real name or see his face without the Captain America mask. This is also about the time that Tony notices a certain Mr. Stevens, a new hire in SI’s corporate office.

Without a doubt, Identity P*rn is one of my favorite tropes and I have been devouring stony fic with it like there’s no tomorrow (my other fandom’s offering is rather modest). Even then, this fic does some pretty unique things with the trope and I'm forever in love with it. The fusion of IM 2 and CA The Winter Soldier plots also deserves a special shout out. 

What Happens In Vegas by sabrecmc [NC^17, 161, 955 word count

“What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely. Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear. “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel. I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN. They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern? Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09. You look like shit. They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way. Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy. Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.” “Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered. Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram you sent. Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

A combination of two classic tropes - Fake Relationship and Suddenly Married in Vegas gets only better and better with every new plot twist and subversion. I absolutely loved Steve’s journey here and I keep coming back to the first couple of chapters just to enjoy the twists and turns . 

I also have a stony fic rec tag with more stony recs, my other  Cap-IM rec posts are here.

[maltedmilkchocolate]

How do other artists manage having personal social media, and ‘professional’ social media? Because I can’t understand it. 

Between Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram. As well as maintaining a portfolio website, and if you’re a comic artist, hosting your comic. Then on top of that, maintaining a Patreon and/or a Ko-Fi. 

As a neurodivergent artist, I don’t have that level of energy. I have limited resources available to me, and somewhere amongst that, I also need to 1) Draw, and 2) Apply for jobs. 

Most of which require networking. So there needs to be time for that too. 

And between Twitter and Instagram whose algorithms are fucked six ways to sunday, you need to be pumping out a constant flow of art to maintain any chance of getting seen through social media (unless you have a pre-existing following).

I’m coming to the end of my Masters degree, and I need to start thinking about getting a job. But from all the webinars and panels we’ve been attending, a lot of art jobs are being picked up through 1) Social media, and 2) Who You Know (duh). 

Which means having to maintain EVERYTHING mentioned above to have a fighting chance in an industry now revolving around social media presence.

Which requires a HIGH amount of mental and even physical energy, which isn’t often achievable for folks who are neurodivergent, disabled, or on low incomes meaning they need to work day jobs to pay bills. 

Competition is far higher now, and there is a race or fight to get seen online. Or maybe you just get lucky and get seen by the right person at the right time.

But either way, maintaining all of the above is exhausting, when your ability to social media manage should not reflect your ability to create art. It’s intensive labour to micromanage ten different tasks, that all require a certain length of time that can be fairly extensive. 

Maybe I’m a bit salty because I’m about to graduate in the middle of a fucking pandemic and any semblance of guidance into getting that ‘aftercare’ the uni promised is probably going to be a train wreck. And maybe i’m a bit terrified that my job prospects are damn low because it’s solely reliant on how much energy I can pump into maintaining an online presence. 

But I’m frustrated at having an already competative career race, have its road shunted directly up a cliff in terms of demands to have a hope in hell of succeeding in. 

Anyway my tutor wanted our thoughts on starting up a company as a storyboard team ready to market, and well, faced with that question, having also been asked to take part in a conference panel, combined with only having three weeks to get my final deadline done, no university support, and the looming threat of job prospects on the horizon - I’m about to lose my whole ass mind.

[ernestsinclairs]

NS*W Alphabet - Raleigh x MC

A - Aftercare

The first couple of times you’d slept with him, you’d expected little to no aftercare. And like many times before, you were right. It was common knowledge that Raleigh hadn’t had any real serious girlfriends before, mostly flings and one night stands and haphazard relationships with an array of models that only lasted a few short months at best. For him, it was do it and go. Not anymore. Slowly, but noticeably, he began to come around. First it was the quick cuddle after the two of you fell back into bed, then the steadfast presence of his arms when you began to drift off into sleep, then take out arriving just as the two of you came down from each other. 

B - Body Part

Like so many other men, Raleigh is a sucker for the chest. Every time you slip into another one of Zadie’s stage costumes or a low cut gown for some award show, the cameras are there - as are his eyes. In your more private hours, when the two of you are right in the middle of it, his hands are running down your chest, cupping and massaging while you groan beneath him.

C - Cum

Raleigh definitely prefers to do it inside of you if he can. It just adds to that feeling, that feeling of closeness and intimacy and proximity. In the end, that’s what he craves, and it’s the perfect ending to a perfect night.

D - Dirty Secret

Though he’s usually the one who will take control when the two of you get it on, he has absolutely no problem with letting you take the lead. It’s relaxing sometimes to let someone else take the reins for once, to just lie back and enjoy for a few hours in a hectic schedule that’s 24/7, three hundred and sixty five days a year. 

E - Experience

There’s absolutely no way in hell Raleigh’s not experienced. He’s been one of the top bachelors ever since his boy band debut all those years ago, and now, as a solo superstar, he’s the one everyone’s chasing after. Ever since the first time the two of you slept together, you knew he had quite a lot of experience, and you knew he was going to teach you some things.

F - Favorite Position

Definitely against the wall. Actually, it doesn’t have to be a wall, it can be anything - a window, a pillar, just something solid that he can back you up on. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t give him a rush seeing you pressed up against him as you nipped at his neck. If it wasn’t that, Raleigh would be perfectly fine with you on top too, just so he could see all of you and run his hands up and down your body before pressing kisses on your stomach that tended to start to trail a little lower. 

G - Goofy

Raleigh has a pretty big ‘why not?’ attitude about doing the do. He teases a lot, infuriatingly so with that mocking smile and tiny touch of sarcasm. It’s more a seductive style of mockery rather than lighthearted laughter. Not that you’d have it any other way. It was pretty hot.

H - Hair

Sure, his PR team might have made Raleigh cut his hair for the persona of it all, but there was still plenty to run your fingers through as he pressed you up against the wall and pull when he moved against you. 

I - Intimacy

Raleigh had a reputation and touch starved wasn’t one of them. But the more time you spent with him, the more you realized it should be part of said reputation. Right from the start, you noticed tiny touches everywhere - on your waist, trailing your forearm, tiny kisses on your neck and cheek wherever you went - he just had to be touching you in some way or another. After a long and passionate night, the two of you would fall back with you curled up in Raleigh’s arms as he continued those tiny, light touches, which might not be so chaste after all. 

J - Jack Off

A concert tour lasts for several months of hard travel already, and for a star of Raleigh’s caliber, the term ‘world tour’ is pretty common in his vocabulary (and that sweet, sweet contract). If he’s going to be away from you for that long, waiting for a break in the tour schedule or a performance where the two of you will collide on your respective tours, he’s got some needs. 

K - Kink

It doesn’t happen inside the bedroom, it’s what happens outside of it. Nobody knows for certain that Raleigh’s trying to touch you underneath the table at the Grammys. People think, but they don’t know. And that’s the magic of it all.

L - Location

If he can do it, he does it. When on tour or performing, Raleigh will pull you back into the tour buses or in the dressing rooms or behind the screens backstage for a quickie. Literally no area is safe. There was the time where he pulled you in for one right before your Coachella set in what looked like Travis Scott’s dressing room. Before the Grammys, he pulled you aside in a closet right next to Beyonce’s prep area. Not that you were complaining - the risk of it all gave a little rush to all the situations. 

M - Motivation (what turns them on, what gets them going)

To Raleigh, nothing’s hotter than watching you sing a melody on a new song or rehearsing or just plain performing. And seeing as that’s your entire job description, it’s quite often that this happens. It’s just the way you do that power walk across that stage or hit that high note illuminated by the fireworks behind you, and then run excitedly off the stage when the lights dim right into his arms. And of course, just a slight suggestive touch like a stroke of the thigh underneath a table at the Met Gala will do the trick. Nothing gets him on more than being teased with the very thing he just can’t do in the moment. 

N - NO (what turns them off, what is a no for them)

Anything with other people involved. Sure, he might joke about it or still have his reputation as one of the biggest playboys in the industry, but Raleigh’s commitment to you is dead serious. When he’s with you, tracing your curves under the sheets and pressing himself into you, it’s all about the two of you and no one else. If anyone tried to get in on the situation, you’d probably end up hauling a couple bank statements to the police station to make bail. 

O - Oral

Raleigh absolutely loves when you give, probably from seeing you pressed over him, eyes looking straight at him as you take him on. There’s that absolute rush just from thinking about it, and he most definitely reciprocates. Like said before, he’s definitely experienced. So when he gives, you can be sure it’s going to be a good time. 

P - Pace

Between going slow and going fast, Raleigh most definitely goes for the latter. He absolutely loves going a little faster and a little rougher than most men would do, but if you want a slower, more romantic experience, he’ll definitely do it though. 

Q - Quickie

Some people were more established, preferring the extended privacy of the bedroom or home. Raleigh was not one of those people. Any time he could get a chance, he took it, even if might entail a few embarrassing encounters with interlopers. For him, pleasure was pleasure, and it didn’t matter how long or how private it was as long as it was with you.

R - Risk

The more risk the better. You’d teased Raleigh about his penchant for risk and his nonchalant attitude about ever getting caught. Any level of risk didn’t really deter him, and you soon came around to it. Besides, the more it happen, the more you started to enjoy it. He was right - the adrenaline more than made up for it. 

S - Stamina

That man can literally go all night. In fact, that became the subject for a song for one of his upcoming albums. One round? Okay. Two rounds? Cool. Three rounds? Okay, now we’re getting started. Not having stamina just wasn’t Raleigh’s thing 

T - Toy

He doesn’t necessarily use them or have them in his arsenal, but he’s not going to complain if you bring one home. But to him, there’s really nothing hotter than getting rid of all that extra fluff and rituals and just things getting in the way and getting right down to business.

U - Unfair (does he tease, and if so, how?)

Oh please. Raleigh’s entire brand and persona is about being that rebel, yes, but also that serial heartbreaker and major tease. You can bet that carries over into your bedroom as well. He’ll start by kissing you all over, starting from nipping at your neck and working downwards, always bringing you right to the threshold of pleasure before drawing back and making you work for it all over again. For him, the fun’s also in the chase, and in this case, the buildup.

V - Volume

Raleigh’s a talker. And an infuriating one at that. It’s not just dirty talk or some kind of romantic sweet talking. It’s also the slight teasing and banter the two of you already do pretty much every waking hour that you’re together. Good luck showing any type of desire, because he seizes on that fact. That man’s impossible, but in a good way.

W - Wild Card (a random headcanon)

The two of you nearly stumbled into a tabloid scandal while on vacation. You and Raleigh had ended up renting a yacht (thankfully he didn’t crash this one), and he proceeded to do what he did best to you right on the deck. The tabloids picked it up and proceeded to run it, and you thought Fiona would have a stroke and die right there. Thankfully, the pictures got bought back and the crisis was averted, but not exactly for long. 

X - X-ray (what’s going on down there

Lemme’ just say you’re eating good

Y - Yearning (how high is their drive?)

Raleigh’s drive is pretty high, definitely higher than any others you might have been with it. Multiple times a week is the norm, especially the honeymoon period, though you doubted Raleigh had fully grown out of that phase. You can be in the most chaste and unassuming of situations like brewing the coffee in the morning or calling Fiona about a future engagement and he’ll be there, waiting for just the right moment to pounce. The man never stops. 

Z - ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep for quite a bit afterwards, preferring to let you drift off first and make you comfortable and well rested for the day ahead. Raleigh’s always been somewhat of an insomniac or night owl, seeing as that was the time he’d write his music or get his ideas flowing when he was in the middle of writing albums or singles or whatnot. That extended over into the bedroom, but instead of nurturing a new song, he was nurturing you, tucking the covers over you and rubbing steady circles on your back and giving you that nightly kiss on the forehead he always did. 

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

@sinclaire-made-me-sin @lifeat314universe @isabella-choices @cora-nova @gonewithpersephone @foulcroissantknightpalace @xkinikilig @writinghereandthere @betelgeusebee @thepotatobleh @alwayslietohidethetruth @donknowhowtonamemyself @drink-of-paradise @poeticscolt @adricnraines @pixelberrytrash @buckett-harrington @sunattuned-vance @noeschoices @katie-sinclaire @makitokito @thequeenschoice @donutsgirl36 @myname-is-ehm @chanceisagoodboy @agentmilayawithshield @lightofcordonia @desiree-0816

[assholemurphy]

‘Til Action, Lust : Chapter 10

Also on AO3

The 100

Murphamy

Explicit

Summary:

Having just recently turned eighteen, Murphy decides it’s time he finally visit the Bunker, Arkadia’s BDSM club, in search of a dom. He manages to find one in Bellamy Blake, charming and sweet and prettier than any man has a right to be, in Murphy’s opinion. But after getting arrested vandalizing a cop car, Murphy’s brought down to the station where he runs into someone very familiar. Turns out Bellamy’s a fucking cop. Sleeping with a cop breaks every rule Murphy’s ever set for himself. He’s an anarchist, a rebel, a delinquent, and there’s nothing he hates more than a cop. So, he shouldn’t want Bellamy now, right? Except he does, but Bellamy has rules, too. He doesn’t consort with criminals. So, Murphy has to choose between Bellamy and his illegal extracurriculars. It’s an easy choice, but following the rest of Bellamy’s rules won’t be so easy. It’s not easy for Bellamy, either, because just when he’s gotten used to handling Murphy, he realizes he might actually be falling for him. Which sucks for him, because their relationship is purely built on sex, right? Maybe not, but just when he’s got things under control, they meet a switch named Atom that turns their world upside down all over again.

Beginning

<- Previous Chapter

Murphy grit his teeth, anger coursing through his veins. He wasn’t even sure who he was angrier with, himself or the damn colleges that had rejected him. Sure, he didn’t have perfect grades in high school, but the recommendation letters he’d forged he been pretty damn great, he thought. And it wasn’t like he’d failed. He’d managed with Bs and Cs and yeah, his standardized test scores had been low, but those were bullshit anyway. They didn’t measure anything but memory and while Murphy had a good memory, to the point that he could recite the first two paragraphs of the Constitution and three-fourths of the Gettysburg address on the spot, the tests had been timed and he’d never gotten through enough of the questions for it to matter.

He was smart, he knew that, but the schools didn’t care. He didn’t look good enough on paper, so why bother with him? That, and he didn’t come from any proper background so his name carried no weight. He parents couldn’t donate a library to the college just to get him in, so he didn’t matter to them.

All he wanted was a damn education so he could fucking help people, but nobody cared about that. Nobody wanted him. He wasn’t important, not in any way that mattered to the school, so he was useless to them. What the fuck did they know, anyway? He’d be a great student and he was going to make a damn good doctor one day, if he could just get into a fucking college that could take him places.

He’d applied to eight in total, but he’d heard back from his first two choices that morning. Well, technically, he’d heard from them on Thursday, but he hadn’t checked his email in a few days, just clearing the notifications off his phone without caring because he’d been too damn tired to care lately and most of it was spam from sites he’d bought things from trying to sell him more shit he didn’t want or need. So, he’d ignored it, which had either been a mistake or a good thing, he couldn’t decide.

He could have found out sooner, but then he just would have been angry then instead of now. But, now he was pissed off as he stood outside Bellamy’s front door, the cab he’d taken driving off and leaving him no choice but to knock. He kind of wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for a few years, but he had responsibilities that he had to attend to, so he couldn’t do that. He also wanted to break something, maybe someone’s face or a Starbucks window, but that qualified as illegal behavior, so, as per Bellamy’s rules, he couldn’t do that, either. That left him with one option.

Bellamy.

If he was lucky, Bellamy would get him out of his head and make it a little easier to bear. He could fall into him and let him do whatever he wanted and completely lose himself to it, using Bellamy as an outlet. And then the aftercare would make him feel better, too, comforted and safe, like he mattered, even if the colleges didn’t think so.

But he was so fucking angry that everything was pissing him off. He’d bit his tongue so he didn’t shout at the cab driver for making an offhanded comment about where he was going, basically implying Murphy was some high end hooker, because he tried to make it a point not to shout at people in the service industry, even if they deserved it. They dealt with enough shit, they didn’t need him adding to it, no matter what comments they made.

So, now he was here, standing on Bellamy’s porch and contemplating ringing the bell or just calling the cab back and going home to curl up with Puck on his sofa and watch shitty movies that made him feel better. But, he knew if he left he wouldn’t go home. He’d end up in some seedy bar where they didn’t check ID and he’d get so drunk that he either got into a fight or wound up in someone else’s bed for the night and even though he and Bellamy weren’t officially exclusive, he didn’t want to do that. Besides, if he was going to get fucked, he may as well enjoy it rather than going home with someone who didn’t know the first thing about bondage and would just fuck him with nothing to it, leaving him feeling empty and dissatisfied. No, Bellamy was better. He always made Murphy feel better, so, if he was lucky, tonight would be no different.

He pressed the doorbell and waited, shivering slightly and letting out a curse, wishing he hadn’t forgotten his jacket at home in his rage. The cab had been warm, but he’d been standing out here for several minutes contemplating ringing the bell and now he was shivering in the wind that the open porch did nothing to stop. His phone had said it was twelve degrees outside, but he figured the windchill was the reason it felt like four. He was stupid for leaving his jacket behind.

He rubbed at his arms, hating himself just a little bit more with each passing second as he waited for Bellamy to come to the door.

Finally, he heard footsteps inside and the sound of the lock turning as Bellamy opened the door for him, stepping out of the way to let the freezing boy inside.

Murphy let out a quiet sigh at the warmth of the house, feeling himself warming up a little bit. He dropped his bag by Bellamy’s coat rack and wandered in further, Bellamy right behind him.

“Where’s you jacket?” Bellamy asked, taking in the sight of Murphy still shivering in his living room.

“Home,” Murphy shrugged.

“Why? It’s below freezing, you’re going to get sick,” Bellamy chastened, concern in his voice.

“What are you, my dad?” Murphy snapped, glaring at him.

Bellamy raised his eyebrows at him, clearly surprised by the outburst. “You okay?”

“I’m fucking peachy. Thanks for asking,” Murphy sneered. He didn’t mean to take his anger out on Bellamy and he wanted to stop, but he couldn’t hold his tongue and it caused guilt to bubble in his gut, which only served to make him angrier, but this time it was definitely at himself.

“Murphy,” Bellamy warned, grabbing for a blanket. “Here, it’ll warm you up faster.”

“I don’t want that,” Murphy huffed, crossing his arms. He wasn’t a child, he didn’t need someone trying to baby him.

“Just take it, asshole,” Bellamy demanded, trying to wrap it around Murphy’s shoulders.

Murphy swatted at his hands, shoving him and the blanket away. “I said I’m fine, Daddy,” he mocked.

Bellamy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, straightening the mess of curls and shaking his head. “Murphy, what the hell is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem. Do you? Because if not, then there’s no good reason that you aren’t fucking me right now.”

Bellamy frowned, “You need to calm down.”

“I am calm, Bellamy. Fuck off,” Murphy snapped, raising his voice and gritting his teeth, wishing he could stop himself from being such an ass to the one person who deserved it least. Bellamy had never done anything to deserve his anger, so why the hell was he being such a bitch to him.

“Murphy, you’re acting like a child. Stop it.”

“Or what? You’ll punish me? Go ahead, I don’t fucking care.” That was true. He didn’t care if Bellamy punished him. He just wanted out of his head. He wanted to get away from his emotions and the hurt that the anger was masking.

Bellamy stared at him for a long moment, looking disappointed and borderline upset. He was completely taken aback by Murphy’s behavior. Yeah, he had a mouth on him and he could be a disrespectful brat, but this wasn’t that. This was anger and Bellamy couldn’t think of a single reason why it would be directed at him. “Are you angry with me?” he asked a little hesitantly. If he’d done something to upset Murphy, he wanted to know so he could fix it.

Murphy rolled his eyes and sneered at him. “No, Daddy. Everything’s fine, so just take me to your dungeon and punish me like you want to.” He did deserve it, after all. He was being horrible to Bellamy and he knew it. He didn’t mean to be, but his temper was getting the best of him and it was apparently beyond his ability to have any self-control. If there was ever a time for Bellamy to get angry enough to punish him, this was it, and Murphy wouldn’t complain. Hell, he probably needed it. It might actually help him find whatever couple shreds of his sanity he had left that he’d apparently abandoned back at his apartment.

Bellamy’s first instinct was to do just that. To tie Murphy to one of the crosses in his playroom and whip him until he apologized, but before he could order Murphy to go, he stopped himself.

He was probably overthinking it, but maybe there was a reason for Murphy’s anger. Maybe he wasn’t being a pain for the hell of it. Maybe he wasn’t doing it to get under Bellamy’s skin. This wasn’t his typical brattiness. This was sharp and biting anger that Bellamy knew better than anyone usually hid hurt or fear or some kind of pain Murphy didn’t feel comfortable expressing. He might not be doing this to be a bitch, maybe there was a reason for it.

Bellamy needed to take a different approach. Sure, punishing Murphy might help calm him down, but if he was upset, Bellamy wanted to know why, and more importantly, what he could do to help him.

“Murphy,” he started, his voice soft and gentle, like he was trying not to frighten away a wild animal. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Murphy scoffed, “Nothing’s wrong. Just fuck me already. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

Bellamy shook his head. “No.”

“No?” If he wasn’t going to get fucked then he had no business being there. “Fine. If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.”

Bellamy was a little hurt. Sure, they weren’t exclusive, but the idea that Murphy would go to someone else bothered him. Murphy was his, and it was his job to take care of him.

Murphy turned to leave, walking towards the door, but Bellamy caught him by his arm and gently pulled him back so he was in front of him.

Bellamy reached out to tuck a strand of Murphy’s hair behind his ear, looking at his face and trying to understand why he was doing this. “Tell me, baby. Let me help you.”

“Like you’d fucking care,” Murphy spat. He looked towards the door but made no move to leave again. If he left, he might not ever come back. He didn’t want to ruin things with Bellamy just because he was in a bad mood. Bellamy needed to fuck him so that things would continue as normal and Murphy would know he hadn’t ruined their relationship. Because losing Bellamy would break his heart, especially if it was his fault.

“I do care, pretty boy,” Bellamy told him, resting his hand on the side of Murphy’s face and gently turning it so Murphy was looking at him. “I do. Just let me in, okay? Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

“You can help me by fucking me,” Murphy told him, but there wasn’t any bite to his words. He was calming down a little bit. Bellamy’s touch was comforting and he felt the anger leeching from him slowly, leaving behind only hurt and guilt.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. Then, if we decide that’s what’ll help you most, I will. But first you’ve got to tell me. I can’t help you if you won’t let me in.” And Bellamy wanted Murphy to let him in so badly. He wanted to help him, to comfort him. He wanted to be someone Murphy could rely on, preferably for more than sex. “Come on, baby. I can help if you’ll just let me.”

Murphy sighed and gave in, leaning into Bellamy’s touch. “I got rejected from my first choice college. And my second. And honestly, I’m probably going to end up going to the community college in Azgeda and becoming a lab tech or something because they don’t think I’m worth letting in. It’s because I’m not good enough and they know it. They think I’ll fail and they’re probably right.”

Bellamy nodded, listening. “It’s not that bad, baby. You’re brilliant. You’ll get in somewhere, I know it. Just because they couldn’t see your worth doesn’t mean you don’t have any, okay?”

Murphy just shrugged, not really believing him. How could Bellamy know more than a college admissions board? Two of them, even.

“Hey, stop it. It’s not that bad, okay? Everyone gets rejected from a couple of schools. It’s just life. How many did you apply to?”

“Eight,” Murphy told him. But it was hopeless. They’d all look at him the same way the first two did. Like he didn’t matter, and honestly, he didn’t. They were right.

“Baby,” Bellamy sighed, seeing the look on Murphy’s face and pulling him close, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re going to be accepted by one of them.”

“But none of them are that great for my major. They’re just cheap and far away.”

“Come on, let’s go to the couch, okay?” Bellamy suggested, pulling away from Murphy and guiding him to the couch. Bellamy sat and pulled Murphy down close to him, so he was sitting with his back to Bellamy’s chest. Bellamy wrapped his arms around him again and rested his head on Murphy’s shoulder. “What are you majoring in, sweetheart?”

Murphy’s stomach did a flip. Sweetheart was new. He’d only ever been called that by men at the club who were hoping to get lucky when he went on break, it usually made his skin crawl, but when Bellamy said it, it felt nice. He sighed, trying to relax against Bellamy and let himself be comforted. “You’re going to laugh.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Murphy sighed. He didn’t tell many people because it didn’t fit with his general aesthetic. It didn’t work with his whole ‘fuck the system, destroy the government, eat the rich’ outlook, not on the surface, at least. Most people assumed he’d end up burning out and working a menial job as some washed up former revolutionary when he reached twenty-five, but that wasn’t true. He was going to do everything he could to help people for as long as they let him. “Pre-med. I want to be a doctor.”

“Yeah?” Bellamy asked. It wasn’t what he was expecting, but it made sense. Murphy would be good at that, he thought. “I can see that. You taking care of people, stitching them up and making them better. I think you’d make a good one.”

“You think?” Murphy asked quietly. He’d expected laughter or mocking, but Bellamy was still being comforting and sweet and Murphy felt like even more of a dick for snapping at him. “I’m also going to minor in political science so that I can run for office one day.”

Bellamy hummed. That sounded much more like Murphy. He’d expected something like that. “Which office?”

“Something local first. Get elected on a state level, then one day run for Senate.”

“Well, you’ve got my vote,” Bellamy told him, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck.

“Really?” Murphy sounded a little skeptical. “I thought you said my politics were bullshit?”

“I didn’t mean that. And your politics are sound. A little radical, maybe, but that might be what we need. And you’re not afraid to stand up for your beliefs, that’s a good thing. I think your politics are just fine. Maybe the system does need to be torn down and rebuilt from the ground up. Maybe that’s for the best,” Bellamy said.

Murphy’s politics seemed to boil down to the fact that every human being was equal and that they all deserved the right to life, no matter what they contributed to society. Bellamy agreed. Nobody should have to struggle to get by. Nobody should have to worry about putting food on the table or being able to pay rent, regardless of if they had a job or not. It didn’t matter what someone else thought their worth was, because every life mattered and every person deserved to be able to thrive, not just survive. And Murphy believed that, so Bellamy could get behind his politics. Sure, he wished he’d stop his vandalism, – though, as far as he knew, Murphy already had – but he understood his reasons for it. And maybe having someone like Murphy in office would be good for the world.

“You know, Arkadia has a great med program. Clarke’s in it, actually. It’s great, and they’re a lot more accepting than most schools. You could try applying there,” Bellamy suggested.

“Yeah, but Arkadia is hell to get into and even if I had the grades the tuition is a pain in the ass, I'd be in debt over a hundred grand before graduation, plus then there's med school, which means more loans,” Murphy sighed. If he couldn’t get into the other colleges, he definitely wouldn’t get into Arkadia. And even if he did, he’d spend the next thirty years drowning in debt.

“Apply anyway. A lot of places have scholarships and financial aid available. Have you put in for a pell grant yet?” Bellamy asked.

Murphy shook his head. “No? I'm honestly not sure how to. My guidance counselor didn't believe I was worth the effort so I'm kinda going into this blind.” No one had thought he was worth the effort, so they hadn’t given him the time of day.

“I'll help you, if you want,” Bellamy offered. “I mean, I helped my sister and now she's out of state, Polis U. It wasn't easy but we figured it out. I can help you, too.”

“You’d do that?” Murphy couldn’t believe he would, not really. What would he get out of it?

“Yeah,” Bellamy said, smiling when Murphy turned to look at him. “Of course.”

“Why?” It puzzled Murphy. He didn’t get it. Why would Bellamy care that much?

“Because you need help?” Bellamy wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Murphy needed help and Bellamy could help him and that was enough reason for him to do it. Besides, he cared about him, a lot, and he wanted to do anything he could to take care of him.

“But why would you want to help me? You're just my dom, you shouldn't even have to deal with listening to this, why should you-”

Bellamy cut him off, “I want to help you because believe it or not, I do care about you. I'm your dom, it's my job to care about you.” It was his job to make sure Murphy was okay. Sure, they weren’t anything more than casual, but that still came with some responsibility, nevermind that Bellamy wanted to take on more responsibility than that.

Murphy scoffed, not quite believing him. “It's your job to fuck me-”

Bellamy cut him off again, shaking his head. “It's my job to care about you, too. You're mine, and part of that means letting me take care of you when you need me to. Let me help you, alright?” He pressed a gentle kiss to Murphy’s neck, trying to convey how serious he was and how much he actually wanted to help.

Murphy sighed, giving in. “You really want to?”

“Yes, Murphy, I do.” More than anything. He wanted to be someone Murphy could rely on, someone he came to when he needed help. He wanted to prove to Murphy that he would take care of him, always, no matter what he needed.

“Okay.”

Bellamy smiled and pressed another kiss to Murphy’s neck, making the boy shiver slightly. “Good, now have you filled out your FAFSA?”

“I haven't got any idea what that is,” Murphy admitted. He was completely lost with this whole thing. Maybe it was more trouble than it was worth.

Bellamy sighed, not surprised. “Right, let me get my laptop.”

“So, no sex tonight?” That was disappointing. Murphy had hoped to get fucked so he could get out of his head.

“No, tonight we get this taken care of,” Bellamy told him, climbing off the couch. Sex would be nice, but this was more important. This was Murphy’s future. They needed to get him on track before it was too late. He could fuck him later. Tonight, he took care of him.

Murphy sighed but gave in, nodding. If Bellamy thought it was for the best, then maybe it was.

Bellamy returned with his laptop and sat down beside Murphy, pulling up the FAFSA page and turning to Murphy, “Alright, first question….”

They made it through half of the first page before Murphy got antsy and bored, leaving him to make up ridiculous answers that weren’t even on the page, but Bellamy just rolled his eyes until Murphy answered them right, but by the time they were done with the first page, Murphy was groaning and sighing and refusing to even make up answers anymore.

Bellamy sighed and set his laptop on the coffee table before turning back to Murphy. “Come here.”

“Why? Finally going to give me that punishment? Gonna spank me, Daddy?” Murphy snarked, grinning.

“If you don’t shut up and come here, I just fucking might,” Bellamy threatened, grabbing for Murphy’s hip and pulling him closer, Murphy complying willingly.

“You know, there’s still time for you to fuck me.”

Bellamy chuckled quietly. “Maybe when we’re done with this.”

“But I’m bored,” Murphy whined.

“I know.” Bellamy took Murphy’s face in his hand and pulled him close. “So, how about an incentive?”

“Yeah?” Murphy breathed out, moving forward and trying to kiss Bellamy.

Bellamy pulled back out of reach, but only barely, making Murphy whine. “This is how it goes. For every page you get through, I’m going to kiss you. I’m going to touch you more and more until you’re close to coming. But I’m not going to let you come until we finish. How’s that?”

“But no sex?” Murphy asked, frowning.

“Depends on what time it is when we’re done. If it’s too late, we’re just going to bed. I’ve got work tomorrow, so I can’t stay up all night.”

“Tomorrow’s Monday. You’re off on Mondays.”

“I had to fill in for someone in order to be able to get part of Saturday off so I could fulfil that fantasy of yours,” Bellamy told him. “But I’m still off on Tuesday, so even if I can’t fuck you tonight, I will tomorrow night for sure. You’ll just have to be patient.”

“Patience is not one of my virtues,” Murphy huffed.

“Do you have any virtues?” Bellamy smirked.

“Chastity.” Murphy grinned.

Bellamy laughed and shook his head in amusement. “Come here, asshole.”

He pulled Murphy in, gently kissing him and running his tongue over Murphy’s bottom lip before biting it, making Murphy let out a quiet moan. Murphy parted his lips so Bellamy could deepen it and Bellamy wasted no time in wrapping his tongue around the younger boy’s, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back to nip at his lips. He slid his tongue against Murphy’s, playing with it and drawing quiet moans of pleasure from him.

Bellamy let his hand wander to the front of Murphy’s pants, undoing them and shoving his hand down them to grip Murphy, causing him to gasp into the kiss. He stroked him lightly, just enough to make Murphy buck into his hands as he began to harden under Bellamy’s ministrations. It wasn’t long before Murphy was rutting into his hand and tangling his fingers in Bellamy’s curls, tugging gently and pressing ever closer to him, until he was almost in Bellamy’s lap.

Bellamy pulled away, taking his hand away from Murphy’s cock and giving him a pleased smirk, “Ready for page two?”

“No,” Murphy whined, disappointed by the loss of Bellamy’s touch. “Why can’t we do this later?”

“The sooner you get it done, the better. Don’t worry, baby. It won’t take too long. Now, let’s get this page done and then I’ll touch you again.”

Murphy huffed but pulled away from Bellamy so he could grab his laptop again. “Fine.”

“Alright. Now, parent’s information. Mother?”

“Dead,” Murphy deadpanned.

Bellamy winced. “Okay. Father, then.”

“Also dead.”

Bellamy bit his lip. “Any legal guardians?”

“Nope. I ran from my last foster home about seven months ago. Nobody’s adopted me and I have no living relatives.” Murphy shrugged, not looking to upset by it. It was just a fact of life for him. Nobody had wanted him, not even his own mother once his father had died, and it had hurt for a while, but eventually he’d gotten used to it. It wasn’t worth getting upset about, especially not right now. There were still times that it fucked him up, but for the most part, he managed to be indifferent to it. It didn’t matter, anyway.

Bellamy looked at him in concern, sadness in his eyes, but Murphy’s face was hard, like he was forcing all emotion away from himself. Bellamy sighed, “Alright, then I guess we don’t have to fill out this page.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna touch me again?” Murphy asked, a wicked grin on his face. He didn’t want to think about his parents, but he did want Bellamy’s hands on him again.

Bellamy snorted. “I don’t know. Does it really count?”

“I think it does,” Murphy replied, inching closer to Bellamy.

Bellamy rolled his eyes and shook his head, giving in. “Alright, fine. Come here, then.” He held out his arms, waiting for Murphy to come closer.

Murphy wasted no time in moving into Bellamy’s outstretched arms. As soon as Bellamy’s lips were on his, all thought of his parents vanished, replaced with the feeling of being completely surrounded by Bellamy.

Bellamy traced Murphy’s lips with his tongue before nipping at them gently, getting Murphy to open his mouth for him. He slid his tongue against Murphy’s and was pleasantly surprised when Murphy wrapped his tongue around Bellamy’s and sucked on it, giving more into the kiss than he usually did this early into being touched.

Bellamy was a little worried that bringing up Murphy’s parents had hurt him, but when Murphy tangled his hands in his curls and pulled gently, causing Bellamy to smirk into the kiss and pull back to bite Murphy’s lip, drawing a moan from the younger boy, Bellamy’s worries were forgotten.

Bellamy’s hand found its way back into Murphy’s pants and soon he was stroking him, faster than last time with more pressure. Murphy bucked his hips into Bellamy’s touch, wanting more. He whined when Bellamy broke the kiss but his disappointment didn’t last long as Bellamy began trailing kisses down his neck, just barely brushing his lips against Murphy’s skin, making Murphy shiver.

“Bell,” Murphy breathed out when Bellamy tightened his grip on Murphy’s cock, giving Murphy more of what he so desperately wanted.

Bellamy began sucking a dark bruise at the base of Murphy’s neck, only stopping when Murphy let out a quiet curse as his hips stuttered.

“You getting close, baby?” Bellamy purred, scraping his nail across the head of Murphy’s already leaking cock.

“Y-yeah,” Murphy nodded, panting slightly. “Please, Bell!”

Bellamy just chuckled as he pulled away, removing his hand and making Murphy whimper loudly.

“Bell!”

“Next page, pretty boy,” Bellamy told him, well aware of how frustrated he was making Murphy.

“How many more pages?” Murphy whined.

Bellamy looked at the computer for a second. “I think it’s just this one.”

“And then I can come?” Murphy asked a little quietly, voice softer now that he was getting desperate. He did that sometimes. He’d get really submissive and sweet when he wanted to come, or when he wanted Bellamy, and Bellamy loved it. Sure, he could still be a brat, but it was less of a problem when he was like that.

Bellamy smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah, pretty boy. Then I’m gonna make you come.”

Murphy knit his eyebrows together and looked down, looking worried.

“What, baby?” Bellamy asked, concerned.

“You’re not gonna- I mean, I don’t mind, but- Fuck,” Murphy stumbled around the words. “Are you gonna make me come in my pants?”

Bellamy bit back a laugh, finding Murphy to be absolutely adorable in that moment. He thought for a second before shaking his head. No, he wanted to do something else. “No, baby. Don’t worry. You’ll like what I’m going to do.”

They finished up the last page, Murphy giving his answers easily, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible so that he could have Bellamy’s hands on him again.

Finally, they finished. It had probably only taken a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity to Murphy.

Bellamy set the laptop down on the coffee table and closed it before turning back to Murphy. He stripped him of his shirt quickly before placing a hand on his chest and gently guiding him to lay down, Murphy watching his face for any sign of what was going to happen.

“You decide to fuck me?” Murphy asked when he was laying down, his head resting against one of Bellamy’s throw pillows. He really hoped that was the case. He wanted Bellamy, needed him, and he was willing to do just about anything to get him.

Bellamy chuckled and brought his hands to the waistband of Murphy’s jeans, sliding them and his boxers down his legs. He frowned when he got to Murphy’s boots, they were in the way and he preferred people not to wear shoes in his house, but considering what had happened earlier, he could forgive it. He took Murphy’s boots off and finished removing his pants, tossing them to the floor.

Murphy stared up at him, his features a mix of anticipation and lust and Bellamy smiled at him. “I’m not gonna fuck you, not tonight, but don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

“Then what are you gonna do?” Murphy asked, wanting to reach out and touch Bellamy, strip him of his clothes. It wasn’t fair that he was naked and Bellamy wasn’t.

Bellamy gave Murphy a wicked grin before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. He nipped at them and swiped his tongue across them to soothe the pain before sliding his tongue against Murphy’s when the younger boy parted his lips. He toyed with Murphy’s tongue, sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it and making Murphy’s head spin. Murphy moaned into the kiss when he felt Bellamy’s hand on his cock.

A second later, Bellamy broke the kiss to move further down his neck, leaving kisses in his wake. He sucked a bruise into Murphy’s neck before trailing kisses across his chest, slowly stroking Murphy as he sucked one of his nipples into his mouth. He bit down harshly, Murphy gasping and arching into the touch with a small whimper. Bellamy ran his tongue across it, soothing it before going lower, kissing Murphy until he got to his cock, Murphy watching him lustfully, knowing what he was about to do.

Murphy reached out, tangling his hands in Bellamy’s hair, but Bellamy pulled away.

“Hands above your head,” he ordered sternly.

Murphy blinked at him, already mourning the loss of being able to touch him.

“Now, Murphy,” Bellamy demanded.

Murphy let out a pathetic whine but did as he was told, resting his hands on the arm of the couch, looking displeased with the order. He wanted to touch Bellamy, but Bellamy had given him an order and he wasn’t going to resist. He didn’t have it in him tonight, not after the anger had left him. He would follow Bellamy’s commands and be good for him. He needed this, needed to obey. He didn’t want to have to think and the best way to do that was to just give in.

“Good boy,” Bellamy praised. “See, you can be good for me, can’t you? It’s not so bad.”

Murphy nodded, watching as Bellamy leaned back down and started pressing kisses to his hip.

Bellamy sucked a large bruise on Murphy’s skin that left him squirming, letting out little moans that went straight to Bellamy’s cock.

Bellamy purposely tortured Murphy, kissing everywhere but his cock, going so close to it that Murphy thought he might actually touch him this time, but each time he simply moved away again and Murphy would let out a desperate little whine that brought a smirk to Bellamy’s face.

“Please, Bell,” Murphy begged. His voice was still soft, like he was trying to ask without stepping out of line and Bellamy loved it. “Please stop teasing.”

Bellamy just hummed in response, making no move to stop his teasing as he trailed kisses up Murphy’s thigh.

Murphy bucked his hips, desperate to be touched.

“Calm down, Murphy. No need to get all worked up,” Bellamy chuckled. “You’re just going to make yourself more frustrated.”

Murphy whined loudly but stilled his hips as Bellamy sucked a mark on the inside of his thigh, Murphy moaning at the feeling.

“Please, Bell!” Murphy whimpered. “Please, I need you to stop teasing me. Please just touch me!”

“I am touching you,” Bellamy replied cockily. He loved getting Murphy all worked up like this. He looked so pretty when he was desperate and Bellamy would never get tired of his frustrated whimpers.

“Bellamy!” Murphy whined, drawing out Bellamy’s name, frustration evident in his voice. “Please? I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Bellamy nodded. “You have.”

“Then please!” Murphy pleaded, squeezing his eyes closed and pressing his head back into the pillow.

Bellamy just laughed and shook his head, deciding that he’d teased Murphy long enough. He pressed one last kiss to Murphy’s thigh before raising up a little bit and licking at the head of Murphy’s cock.

Murphy gasped, not having expected Bellamy to stop his teasing anytime soon. He bucked his hips involuntarily and Bellamy snorted.

“Such an eager little whore,” he teased. He brought his hands up to hold Murphy’s hips down. “But you’re gonna have to stay still for me.”

Murphy nodded, willing to obey. He focused on stilling his hips as Bellamy licked at him again. He wanted nothing more than to thrust his hips up into Bellamy’s mouth, but Bellamy had said to stay still and the light pressure of his hands on Murphy’s hips was a constant yet gentle reminder of that.

Bellamy licked at the shaft of Murphy’s dick, short strokes that left Murphy moaning and wanting more. Bellamy teased him for a while, until Murphy was fighting to keep his hands above his head and looking at Bellamy with a pleading look in his eyes. When he’d decided Murphy had had enough, he licked a long stripe from base to tip and then took him into his mouth.

He sucked on the head for a moment, Murphy moaning loudly as Bellamy’s tongue found the bundle of nerves on the underside of his cock. Murphy struggled to keep his hands where they were, fighting the urge to tangle his fingers in Bellamy’s hair and hold him as he sucked him off. He wasn’t in to forcing people’s heads down or gagging them on his cock, no, he just wanted to touch Bellamy as he went at his own pace, even if it was excruciatingly slow.

Having put all of his focus into keeping his hands above his head, Murphy wasn’t able to stop himself from thrusting his hips up into Bellamy’s mouth.

“Fuck. Sorry, sir,” Murphy said, worried he may have upset Bellamy and would end up with a punishment because of it.

Bellamy just hummed around his cock as he took it down further, pressing down harder on Murphy’s hips, keeping them still himself. He didn’t feel like torturing Murphy any more than he already had. Murphy had had a shit day and Bellamy just wanted to make sure it ended on a better note. Besides, he could excuse one mistake. He wasn’t a tyrant. And it turned him on knowing how badly Murphy wanted him, so badly that he couldn’t control himself.

Murphy let out a loud keen when Bellamy pulled up, scraping his teeth none too gently against Murphy’s shaft as he went. It was a good thing that Bellamy was holding his hips down because Murphy wasn’t able to keep himself from bucking them, his body demanding more.

“B-Bell!” Murphy moaned as Bellamy bit down gently on the head of his cock, scraping his teethe across it and sending shocks through Murphy’s body. “Harder! Please!”

Bellamy tried to smirk, but it wasn’t easy with his mouth otherwise occupied, so he settled for humming around Murphy as he took him down again. As he bobbed his head back up, he let his teeth graze him again, but when he got to the head, he bit down much harder than before. Murphy let out a loud curse followed by Bellamy’s name as he felt his orgasm near, the pain driving him wild.

“Bell, fuck, I’m c-close,” he panted out, turning his hands over to clutch at the couch as if that would help him hold on. With every movement of Bellamy’s head his tongue slid against Murphy’s dick and Murphy felt more of his control slip. He wasn’t going to last long at all. Especially not with Bellamy using his teeth like he was. Murphy hadn’t even known he was into that, but he loved it and he never wanted it to end.

Bellamy nodded in response, looking up at Murphy through his lashes so he could see his face, all flushed and panting, his eyes trained on Bellamy like if he looked away he might disappear. It was quite the sight, watching him struggle to keep his hands above his head. He’d given up on keeping his hips still when Bellamy had taken over, but that was alright. Bellamy liked feeling the little jerks that came every time he did something Murphy really liked. It sent more heat to his cock that was already straining against his boxers.

He took Murphy down as far as he could, until Murphy’s cock was brushing the back of his throat and he swallowed around him, Murphy moaning and letting out quiet curses as he tried to remain in control of himself. Bellamy wanted to tell him to let go, just this once, that it was alright, but he loved the sight of Murphy fighting himself far too much.

It took a few more scrapes of his teeth and a particularly harsh bite before Murphy was begging for release.

“Bell, Bell, please. God, fuck, Bell, can I please-” Murphy begged as Bellamy continued to bob his head, going faster and pressing his tongue against it to soothe the sting of his teeth. He wasn’t stopping even as Murphy begged, which only served to make Murphy beg even more. “Oh, fuck, can I come, Bell? Please?”

Bellamy hummed in thought, the vibrations sending sparks shooting up Murphy’s cock. Murphy’s begging was so pretty, but it was getting late and they needed to get in bed soon. He looked up at Murphy and nodded his head, giving him the permission he so desperately wanted.

He took Murphy down again until he was brushing the back of his throat and sucked harder than he had before. That was all it took before Murphy was coming down his throat with a loud shout of Bellamy’s name.

Bellamy kept up, swallowing it all and sucking him through his orgasm and even after until Murphy was whimpering and squirming beneath him.

“Bell, please,” he whined. The overstimulation was great, but he had a feeling Bellamy wasn’t going to let him come a second time if he got hard again.

Bellamy made a satisfied noise as he pulled off of Murphy’s cock. He made a mental note to suck Murphy off more often, because he loved the moans and whimpers he got from him.

Bellamy looked at Murphy, who was trying to catch his breath as he watched Bellamy. His lips were red from where he’d been biting them and his face was flushed. He looked completely debauched and Bellamy wanted nothing more than to take him right then and there, but a look at the clock on the wall told him it was almost eleven and he had to be up early, so he couldn’t.

He settled for pulling Murphy up and into his lap, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. He bit Murphy’s bottom lip hard, making Murphy whimper and press closer to him. Murphy parted his lips and let Bellamy deepen it. His hand wandered to the front of Bellamy’s sweatpants, shoving past the waistband as his other hand tangled in Bellamy’s hair.

Bellamy broke the kiss when he felt Murphy’s hand around his cock. “You don’t have to-”

“Just let me, okay?” Murphy asked, waiting until Bellamy nodded to pull him into another kiss.

Murphy stroked Bellamy, fast and hard, making the older man moan into the kiss. If Murphy had his way, he’d let Bellamy fuck his mouth, use him in any way he pleased, but he knew Bellamy wanted to go to bed and this was faster, even if it wasn’t as fun, though Bellamy seemed to be enjoying it.

Murphy twisted his wrist and ran his thumb across the head, smearing precum around it. He pulled away from the kiss and pressed one to Bellamy’s cheek whispering, “I wish I could taste you. Take you down and let you fuck my mouth while you pull my hair and call me a slut. You’re gonna have to do that eventually, you know. Just use me with no regard to my pleasure. Use me like I’m a fucktoy and I only matter when it comes to getting you off, like that’s my only purpose. Like I was made for you to fuck and use. Use me like a cheap whore, make me feel like the slut that I am.”

Bellamy groaned and pulled Murphy closer, growling out, “You’re my slut. Only mine.”

Murphy practically swooned at the possessiveness and was quick to agree, saying, “Only yours.”

“You’re not going to run off and find someone else to fuck you,” Bellamy demanded. “You’re mine and mine only. I’ll use you and give you everything you need, but you are mine.”

Murphy nodded, speeding up his pace, making Bellamy moan and let out a couple curses. “I’m yours, sir. I don’t want anybody else. Nobody makes me feel like you do. I’m yours, Bell.” He meant it, too. He was Bellamy’s. For anything Bellamy wanted to use him for. He was Bellamy’s, and not just for sex. He wanted to belong to him, and even if it wasn’t official, even if Bellamy didn’t care, he already did belong to him. He didn’t want anyone else. No one else would ever compare.

“Good boy. My pretty boy,” Bellamy groaned. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna-”

He wasn’t even able to finish his sentence before he was coming all over Murphy’s hand. Murphy stroked him through it, Bellamy dropping his head to Murphy’s shoulder as he moaned.

“God, baby,” Bellamy whispered when Murphy pulled his hand away. Bellamy gave himself a few moments to enjoy the feeling before he raised his head up. “Here, I’ll get you something to clean up with.”

“It’s fine,” Murphy shrugged, reaching for his shirt.

“That’s-”

“I’ll just wear one of yours,” Murphy said. Then, “If that’s alright?”

Bellamy grinned at him. “Of course, it is.” He loved Murphy wearing his shirts. They were a bit too big for him but he looked adorable in them. No, he looked like he was Bellamy’s when he wore them, and Bellamy really, really liked that.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Bellamy told him after he’d cleaned up.

Murphy nodded and gathered up his clothes. He followed Bellamy to the bedroom where he promptly dumped them by the side of the bed. His side of the bed.

Bellamy handed him his pajama bottoms and one of Bellamy’s own shirts.

Murphy gave him a grateful smile as he got dressed. He walked into the bathroom and brushed his teeth before laying down, waiting for Bellamy to join him.

A moment later he felt the bed dip and then there was a protective arm around him. Murphy relaxed against Bellamy’s chest, feeling content.

“Did you mean it?” Bellamy asked after a moment. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant and Murphy wondered why.

“Mean what?” he asked.

“That you’re mine,” Bellamy clarified. “Did you mean that?”

Murphy smiled and turned over so he could face Bellamy. It was hard to read his expression in the dark, but Murphy tried. He wasn’t sure it meant anything, but there was something in Bellamy’s voice that told him it did. “Yeah. I’m yours, Bell.”

He didn’t say any of the things he wanted to, like how he meant he was Bellamy’s for more than sex or how he thought he might be falling for him, but it didn’t matter because a second later Bellamy’s lips were on his.

The kiss was soft and sweet and there was more to it than there ever had been previously and it gave Murphy a little bit of hope that maybe he wasn’t the only one who wanted more. Of course, that wasn’t the kind of conversation you had when you were both dead tired, but maybe one day soon, one of them would get the courage to say something. It wasn’t anything definitive, but the kiss meant something. Murphy just hoped he was right in what he believed it was.

Next Chapter -> (Coming Soon)

[smokeybrand]

Don’t Call Me Shirley

A guy i know replied to a Facebook post I made with something pretty superficial and aggressively nationalist on the post i made about how the government bribes people with socialism in order to throw themselves into war. He believes that Vets deserve all of that stuff because they defended our country but the common man doesn't for reasons? Buddy, have i got news for you! Buckle up because I woke up this morning and, like US International Policy, I chose violence.

Every war that the US has fought after WWII, was in defense of its interests not the country. Those two things are not the same. No country since the fall of Hitler has ever directly threatened the sovereignty of the US. Maybe Russia but we haven't technically gone to war with them and our beef is basically just a dick measuring contest over who can have te most influence (Spoiler warning: It's us because we have the most guns and the most money and act like f*cking D-Bo to the world at large) so what have you been defending? Freedom? Democracy? When has that sh*t ever worked? Every war we have ever fought to stave of the entrenchment of Communism or install a democratic leader, has ended in failure. The Korean War gave us the Ils. You ever see Iran before the US installed their first puppet dictator? Don't get me started on how spectacularly we failed in Vietnam. I'm not even going to touch the shambles we left basically any country to our immediate South. Motherf*ckers are real aggressive about that border. Probably because they want to keep out the couple decades worth of displaced Brown people from getting in here, after we kept failing at coups for the last three or four generations. What about the two Iraq Wars? Surely those were fought to defend our way of life. They killed a couple thousand of us that one time. Surely these last twenty f*cking years of imperialist aggression were more than just the US trying to steal sovereignty away from a country because of oil? Surely all these f*cking lives lost were definitely given in service to freeing the shackled people of... Whatever sandy and Brown country we were supposed to be liberating, and not to line the pockets of profiteering billionaires right? Well, i got news for you kid...

We "won" the original Iraq war because the Saudis told us to stop pursuing the fleeing Saddam, another one of out installed puppet dictators that went rogue. We didn't win, we stopped. Like in Vietnam. That wasn't and embarrassing retreat, we stopped. You see, Hussein was setting Saudi oil wells on fire as he fled, so the Saudis demanded we protect their bottom line instead of actually finishing the job. The war had it's effect, though. Hussein ceased aggression on Saudi Arabia, mostly, and went back to terrorizing everyone else in the region. Keep in mind that the people there, the one's Hussein was torturing and murdering and raping and whatever else, remember that it was the US who put him in power. They can't forget. They have all those scars as reminders. That's going to play into what comes next. The second Iraq war, the one that has lasted a bit more than half my life, was another grab at that oil by the US, with a sprinkling of personal presidential revenge, coated in the the saccharine sweet of US Nationalism and fear-mongering of the "other", in order for the American people to swallow it all. And swallow it they did. And, f*cking two decades later, we are all still choking on it.

My older brother fought in the same war that his oldest kid can now fight in. That's f*cking dumb and objectively terrifying. F*cking why? Iraq didn't even have anything to do with 9/11. Nothing. Bush II lied to get us in there. That's been proven. Al-Qaeda didn't move in there until after we destabilized it. The Taliban, another problem we f*cking created for ourselves, were based in Afghanistan. We ran through there and, in less than a month, brought that whole organization to it's knees. Then we bailed at the behest of Bush II, leaving those motherf*ckers to evolve into ISIS. We did that. We made that. That's on us because we didn't cut the head off the snake. We went in there and ignored the aftercare after beating the sh*t out of that Afghan ass. How could ISIS not be a thing? Both times, actually. Bin-Laden wasn't in Iraq, he was in Palestine. The whole goddamn time! Hell, not one of the hijackers who started this sh*t were from Iraq. But there were Saudis on that motherf*cker, though.

The Military Industrial Complex of the United States is f*cking absurd, man. There are more guns than there are people here. The international community looks at us like we're an infant with a loaded revolver. No one is coming over here to invade us. No one is shooting missiles off at us. No one is going to press us because we'd destroy everything with our many, many, nuckes, before we let our zealous, nationalistic, ego be pressed. Sure, motherf*ckers well posture and flex but to a point but they know we'll push the f*ck out of that button because we're 'Murrica! Guns and NASCAR and McDonalds and Racism, Hooraw! We spend an average of six hundred, fifty, trillion, yearly, on "defense." China spends the second most and they only spend half. The second strongest military force in the world, spends half as much we do. No one is f*cking with us so why are we f*cking with everyone else? Seriously, and without hubris, ask yourself why?

Why do we keep sewing strife throughout the world? None of the countries we ever liberate, stay liberated, if we actually liberate them at all and don't just f*cking stop. We never stay long enough to install stable rulers, just decimate it and quit it. All this sh*t does is breed US resentment and gives rise to anti-American terrorist groups so why the f*ck do we keep doing it? The answer is simple: Money. War is profitable to a select few, more profitable than even the oil we all seem to covet. That sh*t goes back to the inception of this country. The DuPonts and the Rothchilds played both sides of the American Revolution and got dummy rich off of it. It's why Louisianians speak French. That region was basically a gift to France after the war. The US has been exporting what can only be described as terror and imperialism, ever since.

So, no, you're not defending our country. No, you're not defending our rights. No, you are not justified to go overseas and kill a bunch of brown kids because some assholes in Washington wanted to line their pockets with blood money. You are not fighting to keep America safe or spread freedom or whatever the line is for Democracy. The patriotism you espouse as reason enough to fight a war on foreign soil, is and has been a lie for decades. You are murdering and terrorizing innocent people, in a sovereign foreign country, for the financial benefit of billionaires who probably have skin in both sides of the conflict. They will actually fly to space before bettering this country. And when you come back with the blood of innocent people on your hands, remember that the devastating alcohol addiction you developed to cope with the constant stress of being part of a terrorist outfit, will dog you for the rest of your life because the VA is so grossly underfunded  that the socialist help you think only people who have seen conflict deserve, is going to be topical at best. Remember that as you limp around the house you bought with your GI bill because shrapnel in your leg from the IED that killed the rest of your squad right before your eyes, couldn't be removed in time because the VA didn't have enough volunteer doctors to make that surgery happen. Be sure to keep the Camaro you bought at discount under 120 or you might lose that, too, just like you lost the love of your life after being away for so long perpetuating a conflict that has done little to safeguard the homeland.

Remember that, if these socialist programs were available to everyone, that the quality would increase considerably because the funding behind them would multiply dramatically. Remember that, with these programs accessible to everyone, the GDP would increase substantially over time, probably less than the twenty years of this god awful f*cking war, partly satiating the capitalist greed to make money by any means necessary so, maybe, your f*cking kids won't have to be state sanctioned mercenaries. Remember that, if these programs were open to everyone, the collective intelligence of the populace could increase and we'd have the understanding in order to question this sh*t so we don't have to nuke everyone in the world for scuffing our proverbial Puma. But, you know, thank you for your service, regardless. Sorry for the chronic nightmares.

[pisati]

I think I managed to buy myself at least a year. 

that’s how long the lease is going to be, anyway.

it’s hard for me to look back now. for a number of reasons. firstly because my memory isn’t all that great. secondly because, despite it not being all that long ago, it feels like I’m looking back at a totally different person. 

I noticed... maybe yesterday. after reading some old posts on timehop. I do need to get out of that habit, I know. I guess I feel kind of afraid of forgetting. not that I have much to be proud of remembering. but uh. I was so fucking miserable, lol. I would’ve called a lot of it “just okay” when I was still in the midst of it. not great, not bad. I did well in school. I worked hard. I kept to myself for the most part, and sometimes it got lonely, but I made it work. I learned how to be alone and at the very least not want to die because of that fact. I missed my friends so much it hurt, but what could I do about it? after I moved home, it went straight downhill. I dug myself into a hole I knew I didn’t want to be in. I didn’t see another way out. I guess I learned how to resign myself to it. I was surprised at how much better I felt once I got out of it. I’m surprising myself right now with how much better I feel than even then.

I loved what I was studying in school. I really liked the person I thought I was becoming. but with my health and with my indecisiveness about grad school and industry... it all faltered. I was scared. I’m still scared, if I’m honest.

I see more avenues now, but I don’t really know which one to try. I think I do really need to prioritize supporting myself alone. that’s the way my life seems to be heading. can’t say I’m terribly upset about that fact, but at the same time... I’m starting to wonder if I’m really okay being alone or if it’s a face I put on so I won’t be so hurt. I really don’t think it’s the worst, but.. ya know.

so as far as that’s concerned. I need to make some decisions, and I’m just really not sure what I want. 

I could stick with animal care. right now, I’m actually happy. I mean... I wouldn’t go that far; I’m not thrilled and I’m still nervous about how much there still is to learn. but I haven’t felt this sense of balance in a long time. I don’t dread waking up every single day. at my appointment the other day, my endocrinologist seemed to be really happy that I have the job I have right now, because, as she put it, “it’s really therapeutic for you to be working with animals”. I never thought about it like that, but she’s right. it’s why I love going to the shelter, and why I’ve been going back at least once a week (if I can) for almost 2 years. I know I love animals, and it’s really helped me mentally to have rats these last few years, but it didn’t occur to me that getting to see dogs and cats every day would have such an influence on my mood. even if I don’t get to pet them, even if they’re really nervous, even if my job on tech days is to hold the peanut butter stick or break up treats to let them lick the bits off my fingers so they don’t wiggle during blood draws. I come home and I don’t have to drag myself upstairs; I don’t curl up on my floor (or in bed, if I can make it there) and cry, feeling like I want to jump out the window. I don’t feel like my day is being wasted; I feel like I actually get something done. sometimes it’s hard for me to tell exactly how different I feel; I remember that day when I felt so fucking awful I didn’t know what to do; that day that prompted my first psychiatry appointment. but looking back on it it’s hard to remember how much worse that feels than what I feel now. when I’m in it, it’s hard to remember feeling better. I’ve been depressed for so long, it’s hard to see anything without a shadow over it. 

I don’t think I could do tech for real. I’d need to dedicate a lot of energy to redirecting my entire education, and even if I did that, I wouldn’t get paid enough to live on my own. the techs at my practice know so much, and they can do so many things, and they still barely get paid more than I do. in order to become an LVT you need a licensure course; I know my local community college offers a 2-year program. but 1. it’s expensive, and 2. I just don’t think I could. I watch what our more experienced techs do; they’re assisting on surgeries, doing anesthesia and x-rays, consulting with owners on estimates and surgery aftercare, and they’re pros at blood draws, vaccines, nail trims, and anal gland expressions. I get nervous when dogs twitch away from blood draws, I don’t know if I could handle some of the severely anxious pets I’ve seen. I’m still not really comfortable handling dogs or cats, though I’m okay at faking it. one of the doctors hinted to me today that as part of my vet assistant training I’d maybe learn vaccine administration and anal gland expressions, and that makes me nervous too. and those are the easy ones, so they say. the assistant I was shadowing today (who I’ve easily got at least 6 years on) did a blood draw and anal glands on at least one or two dogs, and it just... it seems like something beyond my abilities. I’m sure it could only help me to learn those things, though, so maybe I’ll just have to learn to be more open to it.

because another option I’ve considered is trying to pursue shelter work again. my shelter is opening their new location next year, as far as I know, and they’ll be looking for new care staff. it’d be a government job, with government benefits. just county government, of course, but it’s still something and it’d still look good on any resume. with medical experience I’d be a much more valuable candidate. I’m sure my shelter would love to hire me since staff already knows me pretty well. 

but even that wouldn’t pay enough. not here.

mom’s not going to support me forever. she’s told me that, I know that, and I don’t expect her to. I know I need to get my feet under me, and thankfully she knows I’m trying. but I’m honestly really scared that I’ll have to force myself into something else that makes me miserable just so I can afford to support myself. I hate that I have to choose. I absolutely fucking hate it. that’s another reason why being alone blows. my friends with significant others can afford shit, even if it’s just the basics, because with their earnings combined it’s doable. I’m not about to force a relationship for financial stability, but I would also like to be happy with my job, and I feel like in order for that to happen I’m going to need more support. right now it’s coming from my mom. I’m grateful for that, truly, but I know I can’t lean on her forever.

so I feel like I have to look at grad school. I just don’t know what degree I want. what kind of career I want, where I want to go from here. a sterile, professional environment just... it feels like something I couldn’t go back to, now that I know what it’s like to get my hands dirty. I’ve always known I’m this kind of person; I feel so stuffy in even business casual clothes, and I’m so out of place in professional settings. I resent the fact that I have a LinkedIn, lmao. I just don’t know what degree I could try to go for that could afford me better opportunities at jobs like the one I have, or more like the ones I could be comfortable in. I feel like there may even be a niche market for some kind of small animal thing (mom suggested I create something like Rover but for small/exotic animal petsitters, and one of the shelter staff said I could probably make a killing making little beds for guinea pigs). I’m not really an entrepreneur, but if I can find something like that and make it work, hell. but do I want to go down the animal path? after all this? after my linguistics degree, all my research and tech experience?

that’s where looking back kind of pains me. I feel like an entirely different person from even two years ago. I can hardly remember my schooling; I feel really detached from the linguistics sphere as a whole, and it was a place I wanted to fit so badly. I don’t know what I want. I don’t really think I knew then either. 

but anyway. I have a year, starting in december. at least a year that I’ll be ‘stuck’ here, but I don’t think I’m too upset about that right now. what I’m worried about is if, a year from now, I still won’t have made any decisions. I had a year-- over a year-- to think about it, after my last job, and I’m still no closer to having a goal. 

well. much to think about