#just focusing on one thing for long enough

[galene-gothic]

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES TIP JAR

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 1 ꒱

꒰ What are you looking for within a partner outside of worldly distractions, personal insecurities and limiting beliefs? ꒱

Your ideal type is someone who thinks that life is tasteless without you. You want them to have undergone the lowest of lows in life because you think that they’ll be able to connect with you well if that’s the case. You’re someone who wants to be pursued and you want them to be sort of self conscious when it comes to you because they care about what you think of them. You want them to value long term connections and to have a pure mind i.e. be someone who doesn’t lead anyone on and only does long term connections. You honestly want them to share such a connection only with you. You want them to be someone who’s first kiss, first time, everything was delayed until they met you and they got to experience it all with you. You want them to not have connections progressed enough for any sort of seriousness. You also want them to be focused on their career and save certain things for their forever person, and open their heart to you and only you. You want them to be very generous when it comes to you. You want them to want to give you things, you want them to want you bad enough to pursue you, to earn your approval and to win your trust, and love, even if they’re risking wasting their time. You want them to be someone who doesn’t give their heart away to others, is focused on their career and puts themself first but is generous with you, has time for you and becomes open, and vulnerable with you. You don’t want them to be holding onto any memory with any one of the past and to cherish you, and only you. The concept of a ‘first love that they can’t forget’ and ‘the one that got away’ makes you sick to the stomach, and makes you want to throw up. You want them to be slightly possessive of you and codependent on you honestly. You want them to be someone who doesn’t mind being blunt, sarcastic and rude with others if the need is there. You want them to be charming but in a way where it’s sort of a miscommunication and they never intended for things to be taken a certain way. You want them to know how to get what they want from the world simply because they’re too charismatic with their words. You want them to be extremely aware of what’s going on around them, possibly to the point of hyper vigilance but to still act distant and flighty to others. You want them to question their belief systems, values, actions and way of life, and to be someone who is able to deal with major upheavals without much of a reaction to them. You want them to be independent and difficult to fool. Someone virtuous who doesn’t need the approval of others. Also, someone principled and intelligent according to others as well. You want them to be respected by others. Emotionally, you want someone who is highly dependent on you and is afraid of losing you.

You want them to be slightly possessive and also needy. You want them to be almost smothering with you but also very vulnerable, like even if they were to try to suppress their emotions, they wouldn’t be able to when it comes to you. You also desire for them to have a secret perverse and dirty side. The side that just wants to take you at any moment. You want them to express this dirty side to you and only you, the idea of having someone be this vulnerable, intimate and dirty with you and only you is very sexy to you. I’m not sure if you realise it but you seem to enjoy slight quarrels and fights within a romantic partnership. You also enjoy adult jokes and communication through the eyes with your romantic partner. You desire a partner whose loyalty for you is very obvious and manifested strongly beneath the surface without you having to tell them anything about loyalty and devotion at all. I’m not sure what the reason is but you have a desire for a partner who doesn’t quite fit in, someone who might have had some issues with their parents? It’s not something you consciously seek but you desire for someone who you can soothe and become the most important person to, even if they don’t have any issues within their family. You likely desire someone with more conservative views or culture when it comes to romance. You desire utmost submission and devotion from a person who’s very strong within themself, and to the outside world. You want someone who wouldn’t be able to leave you no matter what. You want to be the dream person to your romantic partner, you want them to idealise you and daydream about you. You also want them to plan a future with you and be determined to be with you. You want someone who has many options but will choose you to build a life with. You want your romantic partner to choose you and not have any regrets about doing so. You want to be treated well, almost like royalty and be offered a variety of qualities and options by them. “Tell me what you want and I’ll be that for you.” Is what you want your romantic partner to be like. You want them to look reserved and determined. This is weird but you don’t want them to share eye contact with many people but when they do, it’s very intense? You want them to have a direct gaze that is intense and observant at other times. You want someone with well defined facial structure, nose and overall appearance. You want them to look ethical, intimidating, intense, calculating, respectable, high status, powerful and someone who either doesn’t smile much or even their smile looks powerful. You have a thing for a strong jaw that causes the lower face to look naturally chiseled but not a full on square jaw. Like, when someone’s jaw is so strong, their chin area looks sexy and well defined.

You also like when someone with this facial structure smiles because their chin and structure looks more pronounced plus their face just folds in certain ways. I’m not sure if I’m able to explain it but my lover - Jake of Enhypen would be a perfect example for this kind of facial structure. You want them to be known to be a hard worker who’s hard to get. You want them to be able to keep up the image of being fine and doing well in front of others. Also, someone who is very fair and has a sense of inner contentment. You want someone who’s known to continue working hard and go for another goal when they’re done accomplishing one. You want someone with a mindset “one life, I’ll do and get it all” kind of mindset. When it comes to their morals, you want them to be someone who befriends the weird person and talks to the new employee, etc. You want them to have a genuine desire to include others. You also want them to be someone who understands what is valuable and is forgiving towards self, and others. You want someone who has a conscience and feels guilty when they do certain things, and grows through it. You desire someone who is emotionally mature emotionally to work on themself and heal instead of blaming everything onto circumstances. You want to be with someone who is able to let go of the past completely without any regrets or memories. You also want them to be someone who doesn’t mind apologising if they’re wrong. Someone who’s very strong minded and willed, and possesses the strength to cut through any challenge. Also, someone whose strong love and morality always surpasses their strong hurts, regrets, resentments and hate. You want someone who actively chooses to be a good person. In their core, you want them to be someone who is warm, loving and generous. Also, someone very genuine and passionate. You want them to possess an incomprehensible depth and honestly, be a kid at heart. You want them to admire you and be attached to you by the hip. You want them to be heavily emotionally attached and involved with you. You want them to be strongly connected to their inner child and feel safe enough to let it out in front of you. You want them to have a crush on you and be in love with you decades into the relationship, and also in a very innocent fashion. You want them to have a sense of purity and innocence naturally. You want them to be sensitive and to understand your emotions, and needs without having to say much. You want to be able to laugh around, cry and just have an innocently deep connection with someone who’s ethical and serious, and self sufficient on the surface but vulnerable, loving and childlike with you. You also have a strong desire to be their first and last love, and have them be your first and last love.

꒰ Who do you need to become in order to attract them? ꒱

Right away, if you believe in manifesting, you need to just simply step into your manifestor state by not doubting things but instead just setting the intention and having faith. With them, you need to be someone who is fairly possessive but also gives others the space the breathe. You need to become slightly argumentative with them so that the arguments end in bed in order to restore stability. Well anyway enough about them, you need to develop more stability in your own life first. You need to put a laser focus on your own goals and success for now because trust me, right now, even if your ideal type existed, they’d not date you. You need to let go of any and all issues completely, once and for all, prioritising building a new life and mindset for yourself. There is someone or something that is not serving you good that you are still holding onto. It might have long passed you by but the effects of it have lingered because you were led to feel really trapped, helpless, hopeless and victimised. You’re being told that the first step to your ideal person is to let go of these deep seated fears and trauma, and never consider settling. Embrace life wholeheartedly and with passion. You need to become someone who has goals in your mind that actually light you up on the inside, goals that you are truly passionate about and you need to be fierce in your execution of them, not letting temporary circumstances steer you away from it or break your flow. Ofcourse, life happens so you might have to take a day or two off sometimes, like you might have to attend a funeral or a family member of yours might get sick, don’t let such days ruin your flow, always get back to it as soon as you can. Learn how to maintain a strong sense of self worth and always see the wins in the losses because the more you explore of any interest, the more you’ll realise that you are not doing certain things right, the more aware you’ll be of your past mistakes but that just means that you’re winning. Look at life as “oh this time my business failed, that means I’ll be able to avoid making the same mistakes the next time” instead of “oh my god, my business failed, now I have nothing to live for.” Look at life as once you’ve climbed a mountain and are able to look down, you’ll notice where you went wrong and where you could have moved differently. The main way to build stability is consistency with self control. Also, allowing yourself to grow in every aspect is going to be crucial too. You need to learn how to do things even if you don’t feel like it, how to maintain a routine even if you don’t feel like it. You’re being told to be a workaholic if the need be there but there’s a lot of emphasis being put onto work-life balance, you need to be careful about not burning yourself out while hustling. Never give up and never change your path as long as you’re aware that you want it. Like, some people have always desired to become performers, others have always desired to write, others develop a desire to become a fashion designer along the way, etc. Fashion designer - Coco Chanel didn’t go to fashion school in order to become a great fashion designer. Don’t let your emotional abundance and fulfilment depend on anyone or anything else. You’re being told to build an emergency fund right away and if you have one, grow it a bit. Learn how to not burn out so that you can always come back on track.

You’re being told not to change your mind in a fickle manner. Like, if you were thinking about saving money but you had to spend money on some food or other expenses, don’t start taking that as a “just this once, I’ll spend some money” and start buying more things, going out more often, etc. Spend money on whatever expenses may arise but stay firm on saving money. You need to become someone who believes in the mutuality, fairness and equality of any relationship, be it professional or personal. However, your kind and giving nature is going to be something that attracts not only them but also other loving experiences and people towards you. So, you’re being told to grow into someone who is publicly very kind but in terms of personal relationship very picky. You need to become like a phoenix, someone who grows more powerful and beautiful after having completely burned down. You are bound to deal with unfair circumstances and connections in this lifetime. You’re going to have to learn how to reclaim your power, no matter how many times you may have to do it. Until eventually, you’re so in control of yourself and have learned how to deal with the lack of reciprocity that you do not even lose your power anymore. You need to stop having guilt and regrets of any sort but be fairly self critical as in, you always keep yourself in check. I just heard “never let anyone wrong you” including false accusations or treating you poorly like you deserve it. In terms of the way you put yourself out in the world, become someone who’s willing to learn and be humble. When I tell you that you need to grow into this person in order to attract your ideal type, I mean to show you who you’re meant to be as well, don’t do anything solely to attract romance, it’s going to lead to you not being able to enjoy your life as it is. Please understand that the lack of romantic love doesn’t make your current life any less beautiful than when you might have a romantic partner. I’m not sure what it is but you’re going to have to motivate others and teach them to go through life and emotional pain in some way. It could be by sharing how you got over certain situations and manoeuvred through life. At your core, you have to be someone who is very controlled, loving, compassionate and strong. You’re going to be strong but in a very feminine manner. I’m picking up on shame and heartbreak over who you naturally are because you’re someone who is compassionate yet strong, wild yet refined, wholehearted yet aware of others’ boundaries, virtuous yet have your own vices, however you’ve had your softer qualities been taken advantage of and your stronger qualities villainised so well, no matter what part of yourself you embody, there’s no winning. However, trust me all you need to be is yourself. You don’t have to try to embody more of anything but if you want to, you can definitely do so. You’re very pure of heart and don’t have to change that about yourself. If you’ve had to deal with a lot of fear and confusion but have been finding clarity, you’re already at least quarter to half way there. You’re going to have to be someone who’s very subconsciously aware of who you are, even your deepest and dirtiest parts. Also, someone who is very powerful, influential, warm, shines brightly and is the creator of their own life. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

꒰ What are you looking for within a partner outside of worldly distractions, personal insecurities and limiting beliefs? ꒱

Your ideal type is someone who is unique in the way they think and open minded. You think that certain beliefs that you have and the way you are is slightly different from what others can usually accept or even understand so you want them to understand and accept you completely. You also want them to have a strong conscience and sense of what’s right, and wrong. You want them to be private but still very honest, someone who’s willing to correct their wrongs and work on their negative traits. Someone who’s self aware enough to see, understand, accept and work through certain actions that may not be the most ethical. You want someone who’s fair and has a strong knowledge about the rights that they may not directly benefit from. Many of you here are feminists or/and child activists, you may not go out there and fight but you have a strong knowledge of the rights that these two groups of people should receive and have a desire to stand up against any injustice that you see these people may be facing so you want a partner who pushes you towards it and would understand why you feel so strongly about certain topics. You want them to be an individual who doesn’t just blindly follow what they’ve been raised with. You don’t want them to hold onto outdated beliefs that separate people from one another, such as different religions, different castes if you’re hindu, etc. You want them to be someone with a strong sex appeal but not that social. You want them to be social as in be able to have fun and interact with others but also not be available just anywhere and everywhere. You want them to be a busy person with individual projects and just high maintenance, you want others to envy them due to their personality, character, image and success. You want them to not want to or even be able to stay away from you. You want them to feel homesick without you and come back to you as soon as possible after travels or even cancel travelling to be with you. You want them to have eyes and heart only for you, and only give you time and affection. You’re not overbearing because you do understand that they have a life and you’ll let them have it but in terms of emotions and certain aspects of them, you want to be the only one to receive it. You want them to prioritise your connection above all, most definitely. You want them to be fiercely loyal to you and for you to share a connection so deep that they feel comfortable enough to talk to you about their failures, disappointments and hurts. You want a very intimate connection with a natural understanding and acceptance of one another. You mostly desire someone who is untouchable and comfortable with being alone. Your biggest fear is ending up with an experienced hoe who can’t be alone for shit. That’s not even my usual vocabulary, that was the spirit I swear 😭. You want someone who looks independent and as though they don’t need anyone but in a more closed off manner.

You want someone who looks like they work really hard and have no problems in life. I’m getting that you like someone who probably looks like they work out too. Definitely someone fairly glamorous and gorgeous who stands out though. Honestly, you desire someone who no one has had or known properly. You want them to be known by how hard they work and how busy they are. Also, someone who doesn’t mind being seen as ‘boring’ just because they are responsible and old school. You want them to be pretty unhinged in certain ways, someone who pursues their dreams and goals abashedly. Also, someone who is known for being dominant and well respected. You want someone who people can’t even figure out or put into words. Like, the type who will just take your breath away because of how unconventional yet true they are to themself. Also, someone who has build a lot of money by themself due to how hardworking they are. You want them to value depth and intimacy, and take connections seriously. You want them to be someone who values personal achievements that they may not gain recognition for just as much as external achievements. You want them to be intentional about life and know what they want, and go after it. You want them to be someone who has a lot of faith in themself and desires to improve their skills. You want them to value passion and communication, and be very smooth with their words. Someone who lowkey has a god complex, as in they know that they’re one with the universe and powerful enough to get what they want. You want them to be someone who thinks that whatever ideas they have, they can bring them to life. You want them to have a strong willpower and consciousness about how the universe operates even if they may not exactly use words like ‘god’, ‘universe’ or ‘manifestation’. You want someone who values being influential and succeeds in doing so. Someone who is capable of learning from everyone and everything. Someone who is just a true man (if you’re interested in men). You want them to have a willpower that can’t be crushed no matter what, someone who will always push forward. Emotionally, you want them to hold a silent power. Someone who naturally expects and demands respect from others. Also someone who is quick to cut people out and off. You want them to be someone who grows from every situation and is grateful for what they do have. Someone who’s present and grounded within reality, and doesn’t think about the past. You want their emotional focus to be on self and reality. You want them to be selfless with those who need it but still very focused on their own life path. You want them to have a zest for life and be ambitious. You want them to have a certain pride within themself. You have a desire for someone who either comes from humble beginnings or if not (because everyone loves generational wealth), maintains humility despite being successful and rich. Whether you may expect it or not, you want them to have never been in love with or given anything to anyone else, you want them to have you as their first and last love forever, and always.

꒰ Who do you need to become in order to attract them? ꒱

You will not attract them unless you’ve worked through heartbreaks, hurt and trauma of your own. When I say ‘worked through’, I mean moved on completely to the point that you think it’s too irrelevant and boring to even think about. You should learn how to balance things and a proper schedule even if unavoidable circumstances may come up. Like, supposing you received news that a close relative passed away and you have no choice but to go to help with their funeral, go do so but don’t forget your routine in the process. Even if you’re unable to check everything off, check a few things off. Like, even if you’re unable to workout and study, if you had an essay to write, make sure to do so or if you wake up late because you went to sleep late, make sure to get up and follow your routine as far as you can. If you have to skip the workout part for that day it’s okay but make sure not to skip it the next. Try to be consistent and don’t let your inability to do one task stop you from doing the rest of them. You need to mature a lot more in order to attract this person that you desire into your life. Yes, if you manage to have an overnight shift into this identity, you will attract them eventually but most people do not change overnight because human change is more of a process so I’d suggest that you start working towards becoming this person right away. You need to be a hard-worker and have self improvement, and life improvement as your top priority. You need to be so busy and so grounded within yourself that you don’t even have time to think about the past unnecessarily. You need to forgive your past and move past it. You need to become aware enough to not engage in conflict, arguments or making any choice driven by anger. Learn from your mistakes instead of ruminating over how you were done wrong. Regrets won’t do anything, move on without them. You are going to have people who are competitive with you and envious of you. You need to become confusing by seemingly appearing like you lack assertiveness but winning every competitive battle in one way or another. Emotionally, you need to get rid of being too emotional. You need to have a strong desire and will to succeed and grow. Also, to follow the light towards the end of the tunnel. You’re being told that the sooner you get rid of heavy hearted energies, the sooner you’ll get better. Morally you need to be very quick and firm, like no one should be able to sway you away from your morals even if they were the sweetest speaker and most persuasive person ever.

Your desire for fairness and reasoning needs to outride your emotions for anyone in any situation. You also need to maintain your fiery and passionate nature. I recommend that you look out for children and try to take care of them, I’m not sure why either but it just came through. You need to become fearless and never lose your zest for life, if you already have, you need to get it back. You need to prioritise enjoying the essence of life, never lose perspective of the beauty of it. You’re being told that you need to live. You need to go out and experience life instead of being in your head. Physical appearance and image wise, you need to be a bit more closed off and secretive. You need to create a sense of mystery around yourself by keeping to yourself but when you speak, you should say something wise or teach people how to do something, etc. Be humble in your approach. Also, never approach people first and avoid being too available early on as well. You should not pretend to be something you’re not so all you need to do is build enough of a life for yourself to be busy enough to not be available just anyone and everyone. You need to be a stable person who values close and stable connections on a core level, and build a level of detachment so that you’re apathetic to things and people not being the right ones for you. You need to learn how to enjoy working so that you have enough of a life for yourself and should give yourself away in social service of some sort, that’s where you’ll find true contentment. You’re going to have to develop a lot of inner and outer power in order to attract and get with your ideal type. You need to become protective of yourself and keep parts of yourself only to yourself. You need to start self worshiping to a certain extent. You need to understand the divinity that humans are, having been made by the most divine itself (god, universe, whatever you may want to cut it). Don’t forget your divinity and sacredness. Be a sharp thinker who takes no bullshit. Don’t be afraid of hurting other people’s feelings in this process of life because being real, everyone hurts someone or the other, with decent people, it’s not even intentional. You need to be able to see things as they are, even if it’s painful. Also, you need to live in the present moment completely. You need to have an active lifestyle instead of being by yourself, in your head all the time. Extend your love to yourself and to those in need but don’t hand it out for free in interpersonal relationships. Teach others and learn from them. Be humble but don’t let your guard down. Have sacred time when you do nothing but bask in yourself, when you do nothing but appreciate yourself, when you do nothing but think thoughts that help you connect to yourself better. Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

꒰ What are you looking for within a partner outside of worldly distractions, personal insecurities and limiting beliefs? ꒱

“Nobody gonna love me better, I must stick with you forever. Nobody gonna take me higher, I must stick with you.” You probably dislike those who indulge in any sort of intoxication. You are into someone who is a bit bossy and controlling but deeply passionate, and fiercely loyal. Also, someone who would get jealous. You want to see them all riled up over you. You want them to desire power, wealth, status, etc. and be very fierce in approach to it but also not let these desires have a hold on them. You want them to have an empowered mindset and just truly be free. You want them to be someone who faces their fears and gains power out of it, instead of acting out in fearful and anxious ways. Like, for example, this person does not trust themself enough when it comes to singing in front of everyone, they choose to face that fear and lack of trust head on, and practice really hard, the first step being that they don’t sing well enough to be confident in their singing, they consciously decide and work hard in order to get better at that skill. That’s the kind of person you want to be with, someone who can turn fears into power. Also, someone who thinks or at least knows that everything is a learnable skill. You don’t want them to be someone who makes excuses about not doing or being certain things. You want them to be a winner in front of others. You want others to see them as hardworking, driven and successful. You also want them to possess a duality. You want them to be a kind and hardworking person who is well respected, and liked but also sorta underestimated and disrespected but the underestimation comes from fear or jealousy. You want them to be so powerful that their power is sort of hidden. I’m not sure how to explain it. You want them to be more powerful than people can fathom. I’m trying my best to put it into words but I’m unable to do so. Maybe you want someone who’s very difficult to describe, explain or understand? You want them to have a hypnotic effect on people that sort of breaks when they interact with them because they seem easy going to and easy to take for granted but then they still have power, and to be much more hardworking, firm and almost stoic than how they look. You want them to include you everyday. You desire to feel seen by them and feel special. You want someone who’s liked by other people to only like you and for those other people to witness it. You want their affection for you to be visible to everyone and for you to receive envy as well. You want them to take your breath away with their genuineness and how they’re loved, and looked up to by everyone. You want them to be emotionally intelligent and to genuinely care about your emotions.

I wonder if you have some unresolved emotional pain because you want them to have undergone enough to understand you and your pain. You want them to love themself a lot but be willing to martyr themself just a little bit for you. You don’t want to settle for someone who stops talking to other women, thirsting over celebrities, watching porn, etc. just because they’re dating you, you want them to normally be this way whether they’re dating anyone or not. You want them to be the kind to patiently work and wait for their fruits to show instead of talking to every woman, chasing them, clubbing every weekend, etc. You want them to look ethereal yet dangerous in some way. Possibly a taller, stronger or/and bigger physique. You want them to be known for being hardworking but not open enough. Someone who’s hard to get close to, someone who doesn’t let others into their life that easily. You want them to be someone who doesn’t let just anyone get to know them on a deep level. You want them to be a parent-like naturally. Someone who treats everyone well and with good intentions. You especially want this energy stronger with you, you want them to take care of you and do things for you just because they want to, just because they adore you. It’s very obvious that you want them to be nurturing and beautiful inside out. For you, outside beauty by itself won’t do much. When it comes to you, physical beauty is a lot about the image they have. Like, the way they carry themself, the aura they have, the reputation they have and the way other people view them. You’re attracted to those who make you feel better about yourself and rise you further in life. You want them to be a bit alone at their core and be fine with it. You want their main moral to be love, you want them to be someone who doesn’t separate from the essence of love no matter how successful they may get or the opposite end, how much life may betray them, how much they have have to hurt. You want them to be able to lead with love and be biased in their treatment of you. You want them to treat you differently from the rest of the people around you. Also, you want them to have a lot of willpower and power over their emotions. Also, someone who has the ability to get what they want in life no matter what. You want to be shown off to everyone and loved publicly because well, it’s sweet plus flattering. You love attention and affection, and want someone who’s not scared of loving you and choosing only you. Unfortunately, there’s a deep rejection wound that you seem to possess, it may not have been that you received a direct rejection but you felt like people were embarrassed of you and thought you weren’t good enough for them. This wound runs very deep and while it’s okay for you to desire to be loved publicly, you need to work on healing this wound.

꒰ Who do you need to become in order to attract them? ꒱

Firstly, you need to prioritise your personal healing. I just heard that there’s no one coming to save you. You need to understand that no matter what you go through, the healing is going to be personal to you and only you, no one else will be able to experience what you experienced and hence, help you heal. One thing that I won’t lie about is the one sidedness that you seem to have faced in life so far. You need to accept the one sidedness that you have experienced, even if it hurts and is not easy to accept, and move forward with it. “I’ve been big and small, and big and small, and big and small again but still nobody wants me, still nobody wants me, and I know no one will save me, I’m just asking for a kiss, give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.” You’re desperately affection starved but focusing on how you’ve been starved of it won’t do any good. You need to learn how to nurture your soul affectionately outside of external validation and affection. One way to know that you’re on your way is if you are dealing with internal and external aggression or have already done so. You’re someone who wishes for your interactions with others to go smoothly but sometimes that’s just not how it goes, they may be rude, belittle you or just make a demeaning joke, and when you were younger, you’d likely have laughed it off and moved on but now you feel really really angry on the inside. There are times when you externally blow up on people as well. You are someone who is very extreme, there are or were times when you were incredibly submissive and nothing people said got to you to the point of ticking you off, and now, you desire for interactions to go smoothly so when that’s not the case, and when you feel disrespected, you blow up or at least feel really aggressive internally. You need to move past this thought process that your past trauma from one sidedness and other people’s thoughtless actions have given you. You didn’t mind it at that time but now that you look back, you feel really wronged and disrespected, and due to how you don’t want the history to repeat again, you’ve started putting people in their place even if it’s a bit extreme at times. I’m not sure but some of you here, probably many of you seem to be a real life version of Pearl. There’s a chance that you wanted to become an actress or actor, or still secretly dream of doing so, some of you may even be trying to pursue it. This seems to be a path that your heart never leaves. However, right now, you’re the “I’m not staying on this farm. Nothing’s gonna keep me here” or/and “why are you leaving me if I didn’t do anything wrong, I don’t understand, I thought you liked me” kind of Pearl. You need to find a way to be externally passionate such as finding new goals or hobbies. There’s just this zest for life that you need to develop. You need to have fun with whatever you’re doing, that’s for sure. Also, you don’t have to be a hundred percent honest and transparent with anyone, especially not with someone you don’t know well yet. Act strategically and don’t trust anyone. Trusting someone should come to you only after years of knowing that deeply. You’re being told to not be naive enough to forget the dark nature and psyche that human beings possess.

I just heard that not everyone is going to have your best interest at heart. Be secretive and never share your plans with anyone or even tell them what you’re doing to the full extent. “Even the people closest to you can use your strengths and weaknesses against you if the need be there. Your past is proof of it.” You’re also being told not to act out of anger or blow up on people. There was once a point when you could not say anything mean to people even if they were doing so to you because you are supposed to have and maintain a natural grace. Keep in mind that when you grab a burning coal and throw it at someone, you may or may not hurt them but you’re definitely hurting yourself. You doubt yourself for no reason and easily feel guilty because for you, judging (misjudging) yourself comes easier than to even just see or at least understand the wrongdoings of others. Which is why you’ve often taken unfair blame. You’re very critical of yourself which is good because you’re aware of your own wrongdoings but you need to stop being so hard on yourself especially knowing that others have done worse and don’t hold even half the remorse you do. Just use your self criticality to refine yourself further. Due to all the one sidedness that you’ve experienced, you wonder if you’re putting yourself out there in a manner which makes it hard for others to truly understand you but what you’re failing to realise is that you can’t make them understand you when they are committed to misunderstanding you. Partially, this self doubt is present because you feel like you’re a pretty good person at heart and even through actions, for the most part despite the mistakes that you may have made here and there. So when others do not see your worth or value, or even seem to understand you. It genuinely confuses you. You often overestimate other people, especially if there are personal feelings or desires involved, you need to understand and accept that who you’ve lost wasn’t even that great to begin with, what you’ve lost wasn’t even that great to begin with. Actually no, it was great but do you know why? Because of you and your efforts. Fight back for yourself when others misunderstand you but don’t try to fight back verbally because language will most definitely be mistranslated. Fight back through silence, fight back by removing yourself, fight back by getting better for yourself and surrounding yourself with better people. You need to put the past behind completely and not even think about it anymore. You need to move on without any regrets and mental or emotional attachment. “And now the chapter is closed and done, and now it’s goodbye, it’s goodbye for us.” This makes me so emotional. I’m not sure which cancer (or cancer placements) here dealt with a pisces or aquarius (or someone with those placements) but damn, the heartbreak seems to have been real. If not these placements, some of you could have similar placements like this. For example, aries with sagittarius/scorpio placements, taurus with capricorn/sagittarius placements, gemini with aquarius/capricorn placements, so on and so forth. I’m getting that majority of you probably dealt with pisces or aquarius placements or with neptune squares/pluto aspects in the astrological synastry or composite chart with someone though.

Sometimes, there’s just this thought in your mind that maybe your intense love nature and your willingness to ride or die is causing you to suffer. You’re someone who’s very responsible. Even if you don’t have the means to, you try to help others especially those you love. ‘Unconditionally’ by Katy Perry is coming through. You have the ability to stick with people through thick and thin, and you genuinely have the desire to do so, and receive the same from someone else as well but you’re going to face disappointments in your lifetime in regards to that. I’m not getting you simply just being slightly hurt by like a situationship, relationship or anything. I’m getting your soul merging with someone’s and having to have your heart and soul deal with the pain of separation with your beloved. You’re going to have to learn how to forgive and accept the situation as it was i.e. if they were capable of loving you the way you wanted and needed them to, if they were even just as half as loyal to you, if they genuinely wanted to be present, you’d be together. I’m literally crying at this point, this is very emotional. You’re supposed to learn how to find solace and stability within yourself without any external love or validation. Your romantic, intense and ride or die nature is an innate part of you, don’t remove it. Learn how to create a persona and character with this deeply integrated within yourself but have this acceptance that you should not have to settle for less. Develop the mindset of “I’d rather not be with anyone until I reach my death bed than settle.” You’re also being told to use your love to become a universal mother, to tend to others who need your love. You’re being told that your life will have to revolve around social service and mothering of some kind in order to attract your ideal type. The easiest way to do this is to deal with underprivileged children and just spread kindness to children in general. Always come out of any isolations (because you’re going to go through phases of it) with more love and service to give, and offer. When I’m telling you to be all of these things, I’m not asking you to change yourself, I’m only telling you to be who you are authentically and who you’re supposed to be, not just for them but also for yourself. So please take my words very seriously, it’s not just to attract someone outside of you but also to help you become happier and lead a better life. You need to continue valuing passion, having it as one of your main values and learn how to not go deep with just anyone and everyone because not everyone is deserving of the ride or die, intensely loving nature that you’re inevitably going to extend to them at some point. Appearance wise, you need to have a power due to how easy to underestimate you look but are actually not. Like, supposing you wear skirts and a lot of light colours (you don’t have to, it’s just an example), and have a baby face, others may assume that you haven’t achieved anything, and are reliant on your parents when in reality, you have a business that you’ll never give them enough details on. You also need to have an image of being someone busy who doesn’t give your attention to everybody who asks for it. “Act like you don’t need anyone’s attention, approval and validation.” Thank you for reading. Much love and take care.

[eldritchgriffin]

As an ADHDer, I have experienced pretty much all of this. As a person who has now convinced two separate people to get tested for ADHD, resulting in them getting diagnosed, absolutely look into how you can get tested if you relate to even half of this.

Also, I frequently experience over/understimulation, so here's some Eldritch ADHD Advice. The most important thing is to become aware of when you are over/understimulated.

Some indicators of understimulation are boredom, difficulty focusing, or your mind wandering. The critical part is realizing that you losing focus is due to not having enough to focus on, not due to having too much to distract you.

Signs of overstimulation include feeling overwhelmed, disengaging from conversation because you can't find the energy to join in, and wanting to go somewhere quiet or lie down.

Now, for the actual advice:

The way I think of it is that my brain requires a very specific level of stimulation at any given time. Different tasks offer different levels and types of stimulation. The trick is figuring out what kind and how much engagement something takes.

As an example, I cannot listen to podcasts if I am not doing anything else. Podcasts are an audio only experience, and not one I have to actively engage with, so I struggle to focus on them. In the other direction, I can't listen to podcasts while driving, because driving requires too much focus, and I can't pay attention to the podcast. The balance I've found is podcast combined with a simple task or game. Cleaning is good as long as it doesn't require much thought, and for games I'll usually choose something like sudoku, nonograms, endless runners, or similar - nothing that requires reading though. The important thing is that it gives me something to look at and keeps my hands busy.

If I'm having trouble doing a task because it doesn't stimulate me enough, I'll try listening to (usually instrumental) music, or if the task requires audio, finding something to fidget with.

For overstimulation, noise-canceling headphones have been a game-changer for me. Also, know that sometimes it's okay to just leave. If you've been at an event for long enough you're getting overstimulated, and you don't need to stay longer, you can just go home, or at least find somewhere quiet to unwind for a bit. As the skeleton says, "if it sucks, hit da bricks."

This turned out much longer than I had planned lol. Hopefully at least some of it is helpful!

bro im gonna CRY i didnt know this 🥺

[barnacles34]

Diamond Ring (Karina x male reader)

tags: 2.4k, historical smut (French Empire), subby sub karina, marriage, and sex.

Wealthiest of them all, you are the Medici of North Europe. Your vast estates span back to the plantagenets - an everlasting relationship established between the English and French - Duke of Touraine, wealthiest of them all. 

It would be an understatement to state that you have seen greed - you are the epitome of greed, and even you would be appalled by the display of greed and such bad humors. And there’s no such thing as the French without bureaucracy: a long, lengthy, powerful bureaucracy.

And, you, Duke of Touraine, are the master of the bureaucracy. This wasn’t some practiced effort or a hereditary nepotist agenda. You were akin to Ivan the Terrible: all hereditary claims stripped, your entire family stripped of its glory and massacred in cold blood, but you weren’t killed - that was Frankia’s fatal mistake.

Coal turned diamond, endless pressure as if you were held under the deepest part of the Earth, and forced to endure its endless torture for years gone will drive anyone to adapt - it just happens to be you.

This backstory, alongside the natural cunning of the plantagenet dukes before you, led you to gain some significant, absolute, palpable advantage over all else. Stories of you utilizing those very debased by this society: cunning troubadours, your faithful concubines (most of which you never engaged with in lustful relief), and all else ignored with a distaste. Somehow, someway, this became the lever with which the entirety of medieval Europe moved, and you jammed it, over and over, until you became Master of Europe.

And, this lever, also became the bane that you resent - the lever that led you to fall in love with the serene, beautiful Karina. 

“Emperor Napoleon? He’s decided to invade Prussia?” You ask, with a pen in hand, mostly focused on the writing rather than the person begging to talk to you.

But when you hear that first word, laced with everything that you desire, deeply pavlovian, your eyes stick on Karina.

“Yes, Master, he’s set his sights on Prussia and likely Russia if he crushes the coalition.”

“He’ll crush the coalition.”

“What?” A surprised remark from Karina, she’s never so informal, dear bird.

“He has an army that has stuck with him since the time he first commanded control, dear. Experience in this dastardly elitist century beats all else. The only thing that could possibly kill his momentum is if his army is slowly dwindling, and that’s something that he hates to the very core, paradoxically, those who die first are one of the most faithful to him. He’d rather use them for menial and laboriously easy wins.”

“Excuse me, amor, but how would he go about this operation? Winter is rapidly approaching and the coalition is only of the most efficient winter warriors.”

“Confidence is a trap that is waiting to be set up. Expect some sort of feigned retreat, then absolute destruction.”

All of this conversation, natural to the core, all happened during the duration while Karina - now, your only concubine, and by proxy: lover - placed your favorite tea and a cup of the sweetest Swedish mead atop your table, that was brought across the Ottoman Bosphorus.

And during this moment, slight and short kisses were exchanged. First, she’d plant a peck on your cheekbone; then, she’ll decide that it wasn’t enough, then plant a peck on your lips; then, she’ll indulge her own desires, into a kiss that was more involved, of tongues and spittle.

It was clockwork, and she didn’t for a second notice this routine that she so adorably set for herself. And, how could you resist her? This matchwork routine never bored you, in fact, excited you to the very core.

And so, it’s very distressing when you can’t destroy her over the table, let her back bend in angles only ventriloquists even dare to attempt, let her throat return to its usual color after a daring handprint - white where you gripped - makes her squirt all over your expensive table.

But she leaves regardless, that’s her duty, because you’re so buried in work these past months, of course, being master of Europe is a job that’ll always be difficult. But, you don’t let her leave without a few words of encouragement. You grip her thin, soft wrist, leading her on so that her ears are closer to your mouth.

“I’ll fucking destroy you today.” The words had the intended effect, you felt the tremor in her body, that’s how you deconstruct Karina. If she’ll train you pavlov-style, you’ll fight back, fire with fire, and you’ll fucking win.

You let your hand go below her dress, and grab, hard, on the soft ass-cheek that so cheekily points towards you. God. You’re already salivating thinking of all the ways you can get Karina to wet your entire master bedroom.

It’s a shame she’s so brilliant at desktop research: you would’ve had her, under your desk, suckling on your nuts and your length till hell freezes over.

Royalty from the eastern world, Karina was suddenly here, in Paris. She cites her reasons to be fairly absurd, she was just forgotten: she wasn’t royalty to the extent of high status, rather a scholarly sort of lineage that lost any sort of favor with the Chinese Emperor, and to your understanding, was a sort of exile. You just hope, somewhat, that you provide her the homeliness that she deserves and desires.

Oh, and, yeah, it’s a fucking surprise that Karina loves to be submitted so fully.

—

The steam of the bath rose in the heavily humid room, dew drops form on your face - the day’s hardships melted off your face, physically and mentally. Especially because Karina was next to you, with a scrub that’s often too harsh for princely skin rubbed considerately all over your body.

“Eyes up here, amor.” While she scrubbed the remaining area of your chest.

“No.” As is, cause, how can anyone keep their eyes off.. that?

“Heyy!” She splashes some water toward you, some sort of cover to hide her beautiful breasts.

Oh, now her arms are covering it, such a shame.

“Karina, let me.” Pointing towards the scrub, and of course, Karina suspects some ulterior motive; and, it’s justified, you’ve failed 100% of the time to avoid her breasts.

You place your hand on her shoulder, let handfuls of water flow off the perfect curve of her back - you could do it for hours. Then lightly press on her skin with the palm of your hand; then, softly moving your palms around the entirety of her body while you are behind her.  She’d already washed, and your request to wash her body was a pathetic excuse to touch her body - but, she never seems to mind it, her face knits in a fake frustration, then when she’s turned around, she slowly vibrates against your firm touch.

Sometimes, this turns into a wet fuck session around the large bathroom, and today, might just be one of those days. Because, the hand that trailed her shoulders, then her collarbone couldn’t stop its firm grasp on her throat. 

She lets out the faintest gasp, she wants it, she so badly wants to be ravaged against these tiles of various blue hues. Her head retreats back, letting it slot right in the dip of your clavicle as you begin pinching her pink nipples - erect in a place as humid and hot as this place can only mean one thing only: an utter rutting desire to be fucked into oblivion.

She’s just begging for it, her resting head on your clavicle turns to the side, trying her best to goad you in some way - and, you’d wish she’d stop, otherwise both of you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Yet, still, she nibbles on your earlobe, trailing kisses on the side of your princely face. If you asked her what reward she desires, and as a joke, she’ll say your dick, your hands, your lips, but sometimes you suspect whether or not that was some Freudian slip showing her true intentions.

That hand that endlessly teased her breast trailed down her body, letting you feel the curvature from the tip of nipple to her underboob, then the slight curvatures of her abdomen, sleekly muscular yet feminine. Then the purely smooth lower pelvis, and finally, her flower - a word that she begged for her pussy to be called, rather than it being used for its intended purpose, it quickly turned to a joke.

And… this is where she seriously breathes in, preparing for the soft onslaught she has to face with the pads of your fingers trailing over her sopping wet cunt. Circles around her hooded clit, wet to the touch, slick, and you’re just dying to have a look. And she’s just dying with the arousal, not even penetrative, and she’s already creaming on your fingers.

“You’re a fucking slut.” You nearly growl into Karina’s ears. 

And her eyes are closed, fighting back against the onslaught of pleasure, yet still, she has something witty to say, “I - I’ll seri- seriously just leave.”

“I doubt that, you good-for-nothing slut,” you tighten the grip on her throat, and she just begins gyrating her hips over your fingers, speeding up every so often until she’s just about to climax.

And then she’s just rutting her hips, against nothing, and every so often her pussy looks for the phantom feeling that your fingers left just at the cusp of her orgasm, leading to an unsatisfactory orgasm. Now, that’s fucking irritating, and she’ll press you until the end of time for that, and you’ll fucking love it.

The finger that dwelled on her wet cunt, that also left prematurely, swiftly went to her face, first, a soft slap on her cheek, then a shove into her mouth - there, she’ll taste the essence of herself. 

Oh, and she’s just loving it, you don’t even have to look at her to see in your peripheral that her mouth is just perpetually letting out these uneven moans - moans indicative of the highest pleasure - and her dilated pupils just rolling everywhere.

“How do you feel that you get an intense orgasm from just the cyclical motion of one or two fingers, huh?”

You pull her neck in, and she’s just blasted out of her mind - all sorts of pleasured, and she hasn’t even sampled the main course yet.

“I lo…ve it… so much,” you swore you could see heart pupils for a moment when Karina was staring at you: she wants your dick to punch against her cervix.

“That’s right. Who’s the master? Who owns you entirely?” 

“You! Amor, you are my master.” She’s back to reality, but she’s even more insatiable, the way her eyes dart every second down to your erect length.

Well, you’ll just have to give it to her.

This time, you both enter back into the knee-deep part of the bath, and as standard protocol would have it, she’s bent over, perniciously waiting and rutting.

And then you realize something, that she doesn’t have the largest bedazzled diamond ring on her ring finger. The smack was loud enough that Karina immediately, abandoning all pretenses of a submissive session, came over to attend to you. 

“I’m sorry Karina.”

And, she seemed to know exactly what you were thinking about, the facepalm, the tone.

And she hugged you, “That’s okay, amor, I would’ve waited until the end of time.”

A contradiction that shows how badly she wanted to be called your wife.

It’s rather ridiculous, this situation, this relationship, all of it, but you couldn’t be happier.

You’d propose, and she’d say yes, then you would resume destroying her soft and supple pussy, then cream it with your baby batter.

“I’ll get the biggest diamond ring.”

“Hmph. You better.” Pretty angel.

“That’s a yes?” You ask, just to be sure.

“Dummy.” Karina kisses you deep, stroking your cock while she’s at it. 

And she knows that you’re gonna say something stupid like, “cockdrunk slut, you want it so bad?” so she’d rather just seal your mouth with a kiss, either way, you’re happy to oblige.

Then, the fateful penetration, the way Karina still stares at you - the same as the day you deflowered her - is always the extra hardness that drives Karina crazy.

Face-to-face, your dick prods at her squishy entrance; then, you enter, the velvety folds full of the arousal that Karina accumulated, likely, from the assgrab at the office, so almost the entire day. That’s why it’s so soft, yet so succulent. Everytime you exit, her pussy drags along, smearing a trail of her delicate arousal, flowery, from her flower.

And, she’s just fucking losing it.

“I love it! Amor! I love it so fu- fucking much!” Her voice gets all manners of shaky, and misconstrued, yet she’ll still profess her love for you.

And, you just know exactly what’ll drive her over the edge. A grasp on her throat, and a steady stream of hard slaps against her ass, or the side of her thighs - any place’ll do, in fact.

Up and down, up and down, her breasts - perfectly aligned with the law of inertia, has a delayed bounce that just interests you to no end, and Karina will stare at you, confused at how a person could love someone’s breasts so much. You probably couldn’t name a single thing that you disliked about her body, or her personality or anything for that matter.

And that’s the progressive upscale, the deadly slope that you climb, your thoughts get more opulent and luxurious as you approach climax. Everything becomes one-sided truths, that’s when you know you’re about to cum.

“Karina, where do you want it?”

“I want it everywhere, especially inside me.” 

“As you wish, dear.” One thrust, then two, then three.

You grab hold of her asscheeks, one completely red and the other normal, both’ll get the treatment that you administer. Then you enter to the deepest part possible, and you’re just completely painting her insides, your throbbing length pulsating till the very last second.

“Argh!” You growl against her.

And she moans, squeals, an unintelligible amount of squirt trails down her legs while you’re still face-to-face. 

She’s on her 5th orgasm, she must’ve really like the assurance for the ring.

As you pull the plug, a stream of semen just trails out of her, passing her folds, then trailing against her left thigh - what a fucking sight.

And, with an intense propensity, you pull Karina down, holding all her hair as she cleans your cock.

When she finishes, remnants of semen still on her chin, looking up, she says, “Amor.”

And you reply, “Dear.” Rubbing her soft, pliant face.

[distantdarlings]

SORE LOSER // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Gender Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* After tossing and turning for hours, you decided to take advantage of one of your Prefect privileges, which is the gorgeous Prefect’s bathroom. It seems, though, that someone else had the exact same idea.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in gn!Reader), gender neutral reader, fingering (gn!receiving), slight voyeurism, Dom!Theo, Sub!Reader, sex in bath, spanking, Theo is slightly rough, language, not fully proof-read. (Lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

ME&U - Zeke Bleu, Midnight Moon.

- - -

Between the day you had and the evening you’d failed to make relaxing for yourself, you would have assumed you’d be ready to pass out. But for some reason, you could not fall asleep.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying here, tossing and turning amongst the golden silk sheets, but you knew it had to have been a while.

The quiet breathing of your dorm mates beyond the canopy curtains, had slowly transformed into calculated, deep inhales and little snores. You knew that you were the only one left awake, and for some reason that made you feel even less confident you’d ever get to sleep, simply because of how focused you currently were on the little sounds they made.

The whole room was too quiet and the cold stone walls seemed to amplify every single breath that was taken in and bed spring that creaked. It was maddening.

You rolled to your left side and shut your eyes, the change in position was comfortable and gave you a bit of hope until the student to your right let out an echoing snort and a few nonsensical murmurs.

At that moment, you huffed and yanked your duvet back, feeling the cold air scrape along your exposed skin. You pulled the canopy curtains aside and let your feet hang over the bed. With a whispered summoning charm, your slippers whizzed to your feet. You stood and made your way to the foot of your bed.

Your shaking fingers gripped the heavy lip of your clothing trunk. The old wood creaked against its hinges as you slowly eased it open, wincing at the interrupting sound.

Hopefully, it wasn’t loud enough to wake any of your dorm mates. You plucked your soft robe off of the hook fixed to one of the bed’s posts and slipped it over your shoulders.

Quickly, you selected a change of clothes, toiletries, and a towel, before easing the trunk lid back down.

You shuffled over to the dormitory entrance and slipped through the heavy door. You supposed if anything would make you sleepy, it’d be a nice, warm bath. If that didn’t do it, you may resort to knocking yourself out.

Once outside the dorm, you readjusted everything stacked in your arms and held your breath. A second passed before your body felt as if it was sucked into a tube.

Whooshing sounds echoed all around you, and your arms struggled to keep all of your supplies clutched together. Just as it felt as though you were about to drop your things, your feet landed on solid stone ground. Your legs wobbled just slightly as you gathered your bearings, recognizing the gorgeous stained glass shimmers that belonged to the Prefect’s bathroom.

As your eyes adjusted to the change in lighting, you noticed that the grand pool had already been filled to the brim with steaming, bubbly water. With a sigh, you smiled and set your stuff down one one of the benches lining the water.

It never failed that the castle read your mind and prepared exactly what you wanted. You had previously thought that the only part of the castle that could read one’s mind was the Room of Requirement, but you soon discovered other areas of the castle could also do it.

With a deep sigh, you worked the knot of your robe loose and let the heavy material slide off your arms. It hit the floor with a muffled thump. Next, you tugged the old tee shirt over your head. The cold air swirled around your exposed breasts, coaxing your nipples up and forward.

You slipped your bottoms down your legs. Colored moonlight shone across your thighs and hands.

Just as your bottoms hit your ankles, you stepped out of your slippers and the thin fabric puddled atop them.

Even though you could wash them, the thought of your underwear touching the bare bathroom floor was too much for you to handle. You stifled a gag at the thought.

Turning, you slipped strands of hair behind your ears and walked to the edge of the pool. The tile was cold and biting beneath your feet, but the water was warm and inviting. Even from the rim, you could feel its heat radiating up.

Settling a toe into the water, you could feel the heat spread across your feet and up. Chills erupted along your whole body as the warmth combated against your cold skin.

You sank the rest of your body down the stairs, each inch submerging more of your aching muscles.

Once you settled all the way down, and sat on the edge of the tile that jutted out near your hips, you closed your eyes. The warm water ringed around your neck, soothing every bit of your body.

You couldn’t help but let a slight moan slip between your lips as your skin heated up.

You could already feel the pain and insomnia alleviating.

Your fingers wiggled aimlessly in the black emptiness, their weightlessness easing your mind. If you picked your feet up, the pool was just deep enough that you’d float.

A thought passed briefly before your eye. You gasped and opened your eyes.

For a moment, it felt as though someone might be here. The feeling creeped up your spine and niggled in the base of your skull.

You glanced around, the tips of your damp hair gliding across your neck. The light from the grand windows was just enough to cast glares across your eyes as it reflected off the water. It was near impossible for you to see anything at the opposite end of the pool clearly. It all just seemed to disappear into the dark.

Trying to ignore the feeling, you murmured a locking spell, hearing the door’s lock clunk into place. If someone had been in here, you would not have been able to just walk in. They would have locked it. Surely.

You shook those thoughts away and turned to reach for your things laid out across the bench. You selected some hair oil and body wash—the same you’d used since you were a child—and set them just at the edge of the pool.

The water splashed gently as you wet your hair and face. The only sound was the soft pattering of the water and your breathing.

As you lathered the oils into your hair, your eyes shut and you thought of the stressors that had thrown themselves at you earlier today.

Not only had you spilled your tea all over your bottoms (and were late to class because of it), you’d actually gotten something wrong in your class today. And that wasn’t even the most frustrating part of it. Everybody got things wrong in class from time to time, but no one had ever gotten a fact wrong in the middle of a debate with the only asshole in Hogwarts that had ever managed to upstage you. And to make matters even worse, it was a debate on Astrological matters, which was your best fucking class.

It was humiliating. You could still see the way that bloody Theodore Nott had smirked when he realized you’d misspoken. He knew he’d gotten you cornered, and you’d known you were screwed.

How pathetic.

You rinsed your soapy hair out, wringing the excess bubbles from the strands and watching them pool around you in the water.

“I haven’t gotten a show like this in a while—”

A scream left you as shock splattered across your body. You turned anxiously, trying to find the source of the voice, while simultaneously trying to cover your naked body.

Finally, your eyes landed on a figure in the darkness, hidden by the rays from the window.

“Who’s there?” you demanded, covering your body beneath the water.

Then he walked into the light and you recognized the very boy you were trying to ignore. Theodore Nott.

Your eyes betrayed your mind and glanced down, tracing the tight muscles that ran along his entire body. Quidditch would do that to a boy, you supposed.

“Hey, Hufflepuff,” he whispered, edging closer.

“No, Nott,” you said, holding a finger out. “You stay back… Cover your eyes and I’ll get out and leave.”

He was now standing a few feet from you. You could see the details in his unfortunately gorgeous face. A deep smirk was drawn across his lips. The light behind him illuminated him like a god. You swallowed nervously.

“What if I don’t want to cover my eyes? Or want you to leave?” he asked, cocking his head to the slide slightly.

With every word, he slid slowly closer, the soapy water trailed over his naked stomach. Even at your full height, the water consumed most of your chest. You hadn’t remembered him being this tall.

He stopped just before you, your head directed upwards just to look him in the eye. The moonlight carved into one of your eyes, painting your skin in reds and greens and blues.

One of his fingers slowly came up to trace the lines of the patterns the stained glass cast on your cheek. Then you were stepping back away from him.

“Uh, Nott, that’s not a good idea,” you shuddered, looking away from him. You pulled some of the bubbles closer to your chest to conceal yourself.

Standing naked in a relatively small body of water with your notorious academic rival wasn’t exactly the greatest idea. The thought of his hands being so close to your exposed body was making you nervous.

He was gorgeous—that much was obvious. Given the chance, you’d likely sleep with him but—

Given the chance, you’d likely sleep with him. Was this your chance? Merlin, you were pathetic.

“Why not? Call me Theo, by the way,” he said, walking back over to you.

“Erm, alright, Theo…this isn’t a good idea.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Well…,” you started. You couldn’t lie—it was hard to think of a reason why the two of you couldn’t do something, besides the whole rival thing. “Because you’re a Slytherin.”

You almost rolled your eyes at what you’d blurted out. Because you’re a Slytherin. What, were you five years old? You refrained from slapping a hand to your face.

He chuckled a bit and placed an arm to the right of your head, caging you against the wall of the pool even more. Your hands shook beneath the water.

“Because I’m a Slytherin? Isn’t that a reason to want to fuck me?”

Heat shot to your abdomen, but it wasn’t from the water surrounding the two of you.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you laughed nervously. His other arm went beside the left side of your head. He had now completely caged you in.

You could hardly believe how he was behaving. You didn’t think he’d even noticed except when you were in the middle of one of your heated class debates.

Then, he not only noticed you, but he saw you as well. His eyes looked through you and into you. His lips formed every word so perfectly as he pushed and fought for the win, and, damn it, if it wasn’t one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen.

Those debates always had you panting and with your hands between your legs. All except for today. You’d never lost before.

You win every time, you feel the tension between his desperation to overcome you, you fuck yourself beneath your sheets. You lose, he feels the tension, he fucks you? Was that how this worked?

“Come on, Hufflepuff,” he whispered, face so close to yours. “You know you want to. I know you feel it when we debate. The way your eyes always flicker down to my lips, the way your cheeks flush. That’s not just nerves from a debate. No…” He leaned down beside your cheek, lips gently caressing your ear. “It’s lust.”

He pulled back and watched the changes in your eyes. Fear was keeping you from slamming your lips into his, but desire was urging you to take him right there. You were frozen.

The back of his index finger stroked the outside of your arm. It traced slowly up the curve of your elbow, then your bicep, then your shoulder. It stopped when he reached your collarbone.

At that point, his hand turned and pressed its palm between your clavicles. His hand was so large, the tips of his finger spanned up to the top of your throat.

The heat from his skin was ten-thousand times hotter than the water. Your eyes fluttered.

“Say you want it,” he whispered. Your eyes opened again.

Could you even say yes to this? After years of pining after him, would there even be a point? A quick fuck and then the two of you never talked again? That didn’t sound good to you.

Still, the pulsing between your thighs was almost too much to bear. Between the light cutting across your skin, the hot water, and his skin on yours, you found it impossible to even move your lips enough to form words.

Desperate for more of him, you ignored all of your doubts and nodded your head.

Without another moment, the hand on your chest cupped your jawline and pulled your lips to his.

His lips were hot and wanting—angry, almost. His tongue pried your lips open with a cruelty that was unmatched. Your shaking fingers lingered on the edge of his naked chest as he kissed you open. You wanted so badly to touch him, but—

You gasped. His hands roughly grabbed yours and pressed them flat against his chest. He must have sensed your hesitation to touch him.

He pressed your body even farther against the edge of the pool as his lips detached from yours and attached to your neck.

You’re gasping and your stomach is broiling and heat is building between your legs and everything in you feels like it’s engorging.

With a gained moment of confidence, your fingers rose to curl in his damp hair. Your fingernails scraped gently over his scalp, to which he replied with a sighing moan against your skin. His hot breath blown against you made chills erupt down your arms.

His fingertips traced down your sides, eliciting flames with their trail. You shuddered beneath his body which controlled your every move.

Once they’d reached the top of your thighs, he pulled away from your neck and placed his forehead against yours. Panting against your lips, his body smelled lightly of his toothpaste and the heat between the two of you.

“Can I?” he breathed.

“C-can you what?” you stuttered, fingers holding onto his shoulders like a vice. The water was warm around you.

“Can I fuck you?” He didn’t linger on the question. He just asked. His confidence was like a drug. His nose brushed yours as his fingers slipped toward the inside of your thigh, teasing farther and farther, until you let out a stifled whimper and nodded your head frantically.

Then he was sinking his hand between your wet thighs and grasping you within his palms. You gasped beneath the pressure of his large hand. The pure size of him covered the entirety of your core far better than yours ever could.

The amount of nights you’d spent imagining this happening with Theo was lengthy, but you’d never imagined how much bigger he truly was.

Your eyes clenched tightly at the sensation. Your lips mouthed his name silently, your fingers scraped down his back. He groaned against your lips at the sensation, the pain urging him on.

“Turn around,” he demanded. He released your sex and grasped your waist roughly.

The speed with which he turned you around and leaned you over the rim of the pool had your head spinning. The cold tile pressed against your bare chest and stomach, the shocking sensation blurring your eyes.

The edge of the pool bit into your hip bones as he raised your ass out of the water and balanced you against it.

You placed your hands down to try and rearrange yourself when Theo grabbed them and pulled them behind you. They were held tightly against your tailbone, clutched meanly in just one of his hands.

You groaned at the sensation, the tile rubbing against your sensitive nipples and core. Fuck. Between the heat of the water still covering your legs and the freezing tile, your heart was racing.

“You’d better be loud for me, baby,” Theo said, free hand tracing down the line of your ass. “Want all of the school to hear who’s fucking you so well, okay?”

One finger breached your entrance suddenly, the sudden feeling causing your body to jolt forward away from the boy behind you.

“Fuck, Theo,” you moaned.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Let me hear you.”

He worked you open gently, surprisingly letting you adjust to every inch of his lengthy finger before he added a second, then a third finger.

Once he felt you were stretched enough, he hummed approvingly.

“Breathe for me, darling,” he whispered. “Gonna hurt just a little bit…”

Then he was pressing himself against your entrance as anticipation swirled in your stomach. Your cheek pressed against the cold bathroom tile.

When he pushed into you, your fists clenched so tightly, your fingernails bit sharply into your palms. You were sure blood was pooling across your fingers.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking tight. You ever been stretched like this?”

You moaned loudly as he slowly worked himself out, then pressed himself back into you. Every inch of his length was tracing every inch of your insides, claiming your body as his.

His free hand came down hard against your ass. You yelped loudly at the sensation, the sound echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Answer my fucking question,” he demanded, hand around your wrists squeezing tighter.

“No! No…never,” you moaned louder.

“All those fucking debates,” he growled, beginning to pound into you harder. “Always giving me that fucking smirk when you win. It got to the point where I wanted you to win so you would give me that smirk and turn to the rest of the class and bow. I could always get the perfect view of your ass. Merlin, I wanted to bend you over the fucking desk and show everyone what a bitch you are.”

You groaned at his filthy words.

“You may have won those fucking debates, but I’ve won this fucking body. You’re mine.”

“Theo,” you whined shamelessly, your finish building up rapidly within your lower stomach. Your shoulders were beginning to cramp from where Theo was holding you so tightly.

“Yeah, baby? That feel good?” he teased. “Always wanted to make you feel…so…good…”

Every last word was punctuated by a particularly sharp thrust.

The sloshing of the water between the two of you splashed up around your hips, coating you in its warmth. Every sensation was building and beginning to become too much.

It wasn’t long before your hands were clenching again and your hips started to shift. You were so close and Theo knew it.

“Fuck, I can feel you tightening around me,” he groaned. His voice was cracking slightly with every few words. His fucked out rasp echoed off the walls, traveling around and crashing into your ears.

The sound alone was enough to push you over the edge, but the hot stripe that he leaned down and licked along the length of your back finished you.

You came hard. Your stomach clenched as your eyes rolled upwards.

Your orgasm slipped into the water between the two of you.

The sensation of your finish clenching around Theo had his thrusts becoming more desperate and disorganized. He only lasted a few more strokes before he was cumming shamelessly inside of you.

He released your arms and laid across your back, groaning deeply as he finished himself off, pulling himself out and then pushing back in. He pumped you full of his cum a few more times until the sticky sensation was rippling overstimulation through him.

“Fuck, that was perfect,” he groaned against your wet spine. He placed an open-mouthed kiss against your flesh there, his tongue curling against you.

You moaned sleepily, only half-present as he pulled himself off of you. He helped you slide comfortably off the edge of the pool and settle your cold top half into the warm water.

You sighed comfortably and looked up at him.

“I had no idea you were such a sore loser,” you teased.

He smirked, a small chuckle coming from between his lips. He leaned across you and selected your hair oil from where it still stood on the tile, long forgotten about.

He poured a bit into his hands before turning back to your tired body. His fingers slid against your scalp, lathering the product into your dampened strands. Fuck, his fingers weren’t just good inside of you… Your eyes slipped shut as he washed your hair so gently.

His lips pressed softly against the shell of your ear. “The only one around here who’s going to be sore is you, baby.”

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn , @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74

[venqzciii]

pervy massager Satoru! Who from the moment he sees you, decides you're not just any client-no, you're the one he has to make his.With a charming smile and that confident, slightly mischievous gleam in his eyes, he welcomes you to your first session, his goal set on making sure you're hooked from the start.

pervy massager Satoru! Who restrains himself during that first appointment, carefully toeing the line between professional and a touch too friendly. His hands are firm but gentle, moving with an attentiveness that's almost unnerving, as though he's studying every reaction you give. He wants everything about this first experience to be flawless, each touch perfectly calibrated, so there's no question in your mind about returning.

pervy massager Satoru! Who, as the session wraps up, leans in with a warm smile and mentions, "For your next appointment, I'll give you a discount. Consider it a welcome gift-just to show you how much l'd love to help you relax again." His words are smooth, laced with subtle intent, a promise hanging in the air that there's more waiting for you if you come back.

pervy massager Satoru! Who grins when he sees you've come back, knowing he did his job perfectly during your first visit. He can barely hide his excitement as he welcomes you in, his eyes roaming over you with a subtle hunger as he leads you to the massage table.

pervy massager Satoru! Who makes a point to hover close as you get comfortable, his fingers brushing your thighs as he drapes the towel over you. He gives you that same smooth, practiced smile and asks if there's any area you'd like "special attention" on today.

pervy massager Satoru! Who starts off innocently enough, his hands working over your shoulders and upper back with a slow, rhythmic pressure, almost too good at coaxing the tension out of you. He makes a few small, innocuous comments, something about how much you must need this, his voice low, as if there's no one else in the world he'd rather be focused on right now.

pervy massager Satoru! Who lets his hands wander further down your back with each pass, kneading deeper as he edges closer to your hips. His fingers slip just a bit under the edge of the towel, his fingers grazing your skin with a softness that sends a shiver through you. And then, as he shifts down toward your lower back, the towel "accidentally" slides lower, exposing the top curve of your ass.

pervy massager Satoru! Who takes his time with your hips, pressing his fingers into the sensitive spots at the base of your spine, his thumbs grazing the dip of your back. He lets the towel slide lower, bit by bit, inching down as his hands work over the full length of your lower body, a soft hum of approval slipping from his lips as he sees more of your ass.

pervy massager Satoru! Who swallows hard, his breathing hitching slightly when he felt his cock rising, struggling to keep himself in check. But with each touch, each brush of his fingers over your skin, he's only getting more worked up.

pervy massager Satoru! Who can't resist a small, almost imperceptible shift of his hips, positioning himself a little closer as he lets his cock press against the edge of the table.

pervy massager Satoru! Who, with his heart pounding and his self-control wearing thin, decides he's taken things far enough for today.As much as he's tempted to push just a little further, he knows he has to play the long game if he wants to keep you coming back, hooked on his touch and his subtle advances.

pervy massager Satoru! Who smoothly finishes up, giving your shoulders a final, reassuring pat, his touch lingering just a bit too long as he tells you, "You're all set. I'd love to see you again soon." His voice is warm, almost affectionate, but there's an edge of something more beneath it.

pervy massager Satoru! Who, as you're getting ready to leave, casually leans in and says, "You know, just for being such a great client, l'll give you a discount next time too." He flashes you a charming smile, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief, making it clear that he'd go out of his way to make sure you're back on his table.

pervy massager Satoru! Who watches you walk out with a satisfied smirk, already planning how he'll turn up the charm in your next session, wanting you to crave his touch as much as he craves having you under his hands.

part 2

© venqzciii : do not translate, plagiarise or steal my work.

[vidavalor]

I love and respect all views and I don't mean to single you out @electricarpeggio because your views aren't uncommon. It's just so wild to me that some people think they aren't already a long-time couple or that Crowley just figured it out in S2. Crowley's contact page image for Aziraphale on his phone in S1 was hearts being consumed by flames so it he definitely knew how he felt prior to S1.

He also objected to Aziraphale using a word to describe their relationship that, at the time, meant only "brotherly" back in 1862-- a word Aziraphale was only using because he thought they might be watched. That alone pretty much says they're a couple and were back then, let alone all the other clues. Believing that they just realized this in S2 is completely discounting the romantic ending of S1. How do people watch the last scene at The Ritz without thinking that Crowley and Aziraphale know that they're in love?

Imho, Crowley was telling Aziraphale he was mad for him back in 33 A.D.. and the subtle thing about it is that it takes S2's Job minisode for us to fully see just how romantic it was. He told Aziraphale that he changed his name and we learn what it means in S2 and that it's something only the two of them understand. The Golgotha scene in 33 AD also sets up the ancient Rome scene not long after it and its euphemistic oysters-- a scene that exists to basically tell us when they started sleeping together.

So, while they have people focused on The Final 15 for now and having some people think it's all new in S2, they've really also actually given the audience enough in the Job minisode to more fully understand that Golgotha in 33 A.D.-- where Crowley responds to Aziraphale being jealous over Crowley's reputation as Asmodeus, the Demonic Prince of Lust, with a confession that he's changed his name to this thing that Aziraphale will understand because he's that crazy about him-- was Crowley admitting to Aziraphale that he's down bad for him. The flashbacks weren't just put here to twinkle-- they're telling the whole, full story of the thousands-year-old romance that we've been watching.

Every human around them in S2 assuming they're a couple is because they are one but they aren't used to publicly being open about it because they've been sneaking around for thousands of years. They're figuring out how they want to handle other people knowing rather than just now realizing that they're in love, imho.

The thing I love most about Crowley and Aziraphale is that they're friends. Yes, they're also deeply in love, but first and foremost, they are friends. They love each other platonically, romantically, and everything else in between, and I hate when fanworks diminish that. They are not "more than friends". They are friends, plus lovers, plus family.

[amourtoken]

yes PLEASE write about quinn knocking you up and also please never stop writing smut i feel FERAL

I got a couple asks about this so let me roll them all into one here yall are horny unhinged individuals together now

Quinn is unfortunately insanely susceptible to baby fever. He can't help himself, the thought of having a little extended family to provide for is sweet enough on its own but getting there is what he's really been focused on recently. He cannot clear his mind of the idea at all and it's starting to effect every aspect of his life. His thoughts are always frenzied and his brain fuzzy, he can barely focus on the ice and you constantly catch him zoned out and have to draw his attention back to you. What's he even thinking about?

This all started after he saw you interacting with some kids at a charity event. He didn't think it'd be a personal attack on his psyche to see you leaning down to their level so they felt more included while you chatted about your days or whatever random thoughts of theirs that sprung to mind. They all seemed so happy in your presence and you've always just naturally been great with kids so it's no surprise to you, but Quinn instantaneously fell victim to the infectious thought process of parenthood.

all he's thought about for days is how pretty you'd look pregnant and how good of a parent you'd be. Would your kids have your smile? Your eyes? Hopefully they had your sweet personality at the very least. You two could be the overly supportive cheesy hockey parents when your kid got a little older too, if they took after him and wanted to play. Quinn would fall down these hour long rabbit holes in his own mind of what your future would look like with an addition to the family and it was becoming more and more of a necessity every day.

Eventually it gets to a point where he can't fucking contain it anymore and he lets the idea slip while he's got you pinned to the mattress below him.

Quinn's fingers are holding your hips tight enough to bruise while he's buried inside you, panting praises and explicit compliments against your neck in rhythm with his thrusts. He can't get the image of you all pretty and pregnant out of his brain at all, the only thing keeping him from it is a thin latex and a question really. He didn't wanna ruin the moment but it was out of his control at this point, the need overtaking critical thinking skills.

"Fuck- please let me put a baby in you- shit- p-please- c-can't stop thinkin' about it- fuck i need it so bad...'m sorry-"

His voice sounded so broken, moans and whines cutting through his words against his will. You had no idea he felt this way and fuck you wish he'd said something sooner because you've been going through the same misery he has. For the same reason. The same exact event that permeated his peace with the idea of kids with you was the one that had you dizzy thinking about him being a dad. Safe to say your communication skills were lacking during this cause both of you were afraid to ask but now that you're on the same page? You're in for it.

You respond enthusiastically, nodding quickly and immediately pleading for him to do just that. Quinn's chest fluttered at your whined pleas and as much as it pained him to pull out in the moment it was definitely worth it to sink back into you raw. He wanted this to last forever but the way you felt so fucking warm and wet around him was ultimately his undoing, much to his own protest. He didn't wanna finish without dragging you along either, his thrusts fell out of rhythm as he snaked a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, trying his best to take you with him.

"Shit- you're gonna be so pretty- fuck- god I'm so fuckin' lucky-"

Your nails sunk into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, legs shaking as you tipped off the edge of your orgasm with a whine of his name. He almost immediately followed you, hands gripping behind your knees to fold you in half under him, allowing him to sink deeper than before. Quinn's vision blurred with black spots and his voice pitched up into whiney pleas as he filled you up, finally getting what's plagued him for fucking weeks now. Doesn't matter if this was the time that did it or not, he was dead set on fucking you full of his cum over and over and over until you got the results you both wanted (and then some extra for good measure ofc)

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1652

Chapter 38:

"Time to finish The Road. We are one trial closer to the big score!" She exclaimed and started to lead, making you all follow her down the path.

"Earth magic with no Green Witch." Jen reminded Agatha, since Rio had gone to do her duty and left them behind.

"We're back to square one." Billy agreed.

Agatha rolled her eyes. "Oh, there's plenty of overlap between Earth and Potions, right, Jenny Kale?"

Jen bit back a sarcastic remark. "Some."

"Please. Your last name is a vegetable. Worst kind," Agatha said, reverting back to mean unnecessary comments. "Plus, we have Sugar over here. One extra set of hands. Oh, and don't look at her like that; she is more capable than you think, " she continued, focusing on you.

She even went as far as to slow down so you could catch up with her; only to pinch your cheeks in a playful manner.

At that moment, though, you clearly did not share her humour or her fake optimistic side. You grabbed her wrist and gently lowered her hand away from your cheeks.

"Ags," you called out her name, in a tone she knew too well.

You were catching up to her facade, and her fake smile disappeared. She did not like it when you were using that tone, expecting she would confess what was on her mind.

Sometimes Agatha did that, but right now, those things were the last thing she wanted to think of. And so, she continued on; not truly caring what kind of image she was giving to the others.

She knew in the end, you would never hate her or walk away; and Billy needed her to find his brother. So she had the two of you secured.

Now, if Jen chose to be upset and offended, she didn't care. She was just... Jen.

"I have to be honest," Agatha continued agter giving the small group a dramatic pause. "I'm surprised you survived this long, Kale. My money was on Lilia."

You chose to put your foot down at that moment. No matter how annoying Jen could and had proven to be, that did not mean she deserved to be attacked that way.

"Agatha, enough. This is not the time for comparisons or disrespecting the dead," you commented, making her stop in her tracks. "Show some respect cause we are only here because of Lilia's sacrifice."

Especially when she was still mourning, perhaps being the only member to truly care for Lilia's loss. Cause let's ve honest, Billy never truly came close or cared that much.

And you... well, you hadn't truly bonded with anyone cause you didn't want to. You knew they might die. They might turn on you on the road, and you were strictly there for Agatha.

One last chance to stand by her side for good this time and not let her slip through your fingers, unknown when and if she would return back to you.

But you had failed in that initial plan. All because you had started to warm up to a lost boy with hidden potential under the name of Billy Maximoff.

Agatha fought to keep that fake bitchy smirk and not react to your words. She expected you to comment once in a while, since you akwys did, but to go against her so strongly? So often?

She was not sure she liked that. Perhaps she had been away from you too much, and you had forgotten... forgotten the rules she had laid for you. Rules you had obediently followed.

She would have to change that when this would be all over. You had been astray from the path for too long, but she was not going to let you continue that way, especially with Rio so keen on entering your life and being part of it.

Agatha cleared her throat, controlling her thoughts. "Come on, Sugar. Cheer up!" She said, putting on a mask once again. "What fresh horrors await us! It's's the big finish, so close to us!"

She started to walk again, trying to keep her moon by being dramatic; talking of fireworks and spectacles and.... she tripped..

However, it was what she tripped on that surprised all of you.

"Our shoes." You exclaimed and moved to investigate, ensure your eyes were nor deceiving you.

Much to your surprise and even slight horror, those were your shoes. They were nicely tucked and placed where you all had removed and left them. When you had first started the Road.

It felt as if it had been too long since that took place, while it may as well been a few hours; perhaps a day.

Only then did you truly realize how time disoriented you all had been. How you had almost forgotten where you were and when you started, feeling so much longer than it truly was.

"We're back where we started." Jen realized but did not dare to approach the shoes any closer, as she was reminded of the witches that died before; whose shoes were the only reminders of them left.

"The Witches' Road is a circle. And this is the finish line?" Billy questioned, looking at you and Agatha; since you were the last and only ones to survive the road.

Or so you claimed.

Agatha had the strongest reaction to everything, clearly upset by the sight. She had been through so much in the past few trials, especially that damn spirit trial.

She had been humiliated, trickef, trialled, tired, and by the gods had her patience be tested.

"That's it?" She exclaimed, anger bubbling within her, mimicking a volacon about to erupt or a tsunami ready to sink a whole country with one hit. "That's it?!" She yelled, glaring at the sky at whatever entity our there might be watching and most likely mocking them.

"Well, maybe we passed the trial." Billy suggested, trying to be the optimist in the group and calm down Agatha from pulling her own hair or finding a way to set the whole place in flames.

Agatha turned her head to look at him, her face hard. "Then how exactly do we get off?" She asked rhetorically.

Of course, Billy didn't realize it and tried to anseer it. "Well, maybe we..." she didn't let him finish.

"If you don't know, then keep quiet."

Billy bit his tongue, feeling his own anger flaring up as once again he was treated with so much disrespect; it was ending up to become both annoying and tiring.

"We keep going." Agatha suddenly suggested.

"What?" Jen and Billy exclaimed while you stared at your lover, trying to make sure you heard her correctly.

"We go again. It'll work the second time." She explained, trying to sound certain, but everyone could see that she was not convincing enough.

"Ags, this won't work, and you know it," you said, trying to be the one and get her both to listen and calm down.

Your lover simply pushed her hair off her shoulder. "Of course it will. We have nothing to lose"

Before you could argue or reason with her, Jen interfered; though this time she had a very valid point.

"There is absolutely zero chance, I'm m going to endure that experience again." She said snd you silently agreed with her.

The trials have have exhausting and if by some twisted turn of fate you had to endure them again... you were not ready.

No matter the answers that might be the same, you could also not pass through that again; let alone so soon.

As the three witches argued, with Jen and Agatha being the loudest and you caught in the middle; Billy chose to act.

He was also tired from everything, and he wanted to just be done. He wanted to find Tommy, have his answers, and return to his civilian life. It might not be truly his, but it was a stable thing in his life that didn't consist of backstabbing, people dying, and lies being told so often they mixed with the truth.

"We took them off out of respect for The Road." He started as he stood in front of his shoes and grabbed one . "Screw The Road." And with those words, he put his shoe on.

Yet in that exact moment... he disappeared from sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sudden disappearance made the three of you gasp in surprise, none expecting it to happen. Worse was the fact that you didn't know where he went and if what he did was the right choice or the one leading him to his doom.

"So, what do we do know?" Jen dared to ask and look at you and Agatha.

You exchanged a look with your lover, first time sering this. You were unsure of what you should truly do, let alone what you might experience next.

Yet the more you remained in that annoying creepy lurking forest. The more you were reminded of your limited choices and the fact that you had come back to the beginning... the more certain you were of what to do.

Worse case scenario, you were kicked off the Road or killed. Both of those theories felt so much better within your hearts, than spending a minute longer on this hellish road.

"Time to wear our shoes," Agatha said and went first, disappearing as soon as she put her shoes on.

This left you and Jen to exchange a look, your fellow witch clearly not thrilled with the idea and not fully confident that this was the right choice.

She did not want to take any more risks. It was too stressful.

"Not much of a choice," you said, doing a not so good effort in sounding reassuring.

She watched you head for your shoes and put them on, the sight of her watching you the last thing you saw before your vision turned black.

Chapter 39

[childrenofcain-if]

ENOUGH WITH THOSE TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS (C AND D), I WANT MY SAD LITTLE MEOW MEOW TO HAVE SOME SPOTLIGHT TOO 🤩 GIVE US SOMETHING WHOLESOME FOR W

(I was sold the second they showed up in a Leon Kennedy costume 🥴)

you were sitting across from W on their bed; camera equipments, scripts, piles of books and notebooks with creased covers and fraying edges surrounding the bedroom. W had taken to picking at the threads of their sweater’s sleeves, their fingers moving as if on autopilot, focused on you but never meeting your eyes for too long. they seemed to vibrate with some constant, buzzing energy; as if they were always on the edge of fleeing, some part of them always afraid that if they stayed still for too long, you’d deem them a weirdo and never even come near them again.

but that was just W, wasn’t it? this perpetual stillness tangled with nervous energy, like a candle whose flame kept shifting in the draft. they were here with you, yet part of them never fully settled, never quite willing to let the fear drop. you wondered if anyone else would’ve noticed the subtleties in W’s tension, the small way their shoulders lifted with every breath, or the way their fingers twisted in the fabric of their own sweater until their knuckles turned as white as their bones.

they’d made an awkward joke about their suitemate’s sleeping habits and you laughed, even though it wasn’t really that funny. to many people, the sound may not be particularly remarkable. to W, it was thunder and music, the thing that called them back from the dark, the thing they had been chasing since you two were children.

W’s feelings for you were a slow-burn disaster, a shipwreck that had been happening for years, filling up their life inch by inch. they thought about it sometimes like it was an oil spill, like they’d let it overflow so many times that now there wasn’t a place left in the ocean that wouldn’t catch fire if somebody struck a match.

they couldn’t pinpoint exactly when they’d decided they loved you; it felt like one day they just looked at you, and it was there, woven into the intricacies of their soul before there was even a possibility of your existence. loving you was as natural as breathing, as irreversible as rain hitting the ground.

you were now talking about something—a memory, something you’d done last winter, maybe—and W nodded along, but their mind drifted to how you looked under that sunlight filtering through their canary yellow blinds. it cast you in softened shadows and highlights, picking out every contour of your face and making you look like heaven’s teardrop.

you were lovely in a way that hurt to look at. W never said it, but they thought it a lot: that you were beautiful in a way that was calm and quiet and fierce all at once, like moonlight on water or fireflies in the middle of july.

it struck them sometimes, like a hammer to their ribs, that they’d been in love with you for most of their life. and how foolish it was, really, to be so irrevocably caught up in someone else amongst the innocence of their youth. but W had grown up with nothing they’d dared love—at least, not out loud.

their parents had taught them that love was a trap, that care was a weakness, and even as a kid, they’d been wary of wanting anything too much. of course, not that it stopped their heart from experiencing that want, that need.

your presence beside them always felt surreal though, like it was something that should have only ever existed in a dream. and yet, here you were, next to them, every slight brush of your skin a shock against their nerves. it was so light, yet for W, each touch, each accidental graze of your arm against theirs, was like lightning in the form of wistful wisteria petals.

they wanted to reach for you. they wanted to bridge that space, fold into you like they had as a kid, when it was easier to say “i’m scared” and let you chase away the dark. when it was okay to lean on someone and just be.

but things were different now. W wasn’t a kid anymore. and the years had left scars on them, scars they were unsure if you could even see. you hadn’t been there for the worst of it—those hollow, hungry days where they’d gone without sleep, without food, when they’d let their body waste away because somehow they thought it might make them someone worthy to be sticking around for.

feeling unlovable, feeling like they had to be smaller, quieter, like they had to take up less space just to avoid being left alone all over again.

they looked down at their hands, the bony angles of their fingers, the thinness that never seemed to go away, no matter how much they tried to pretend they were fine. they knew what they looked like—what they had done to themself, without ever really meaning to... what they continued to do to themself while meaning to.

but you were here now, and that was enough, wasn’t it? somehow, it felt like it might be.

the conversation lulled, and there was a warmth to the silence, like the sun spilling in through the window was made just for the two of you. W took a breath, carefully, as if they were holding something delicate in their hands, as if breathing too loud might shatter every single thing in the room.

they dared to reach out then, just barely brushing their hand against yours. your skin felt warm, grounding, something that pulled them back down from the dark place their thoughts so often took them. and it felt almost wrong, this simple touch, like they were stealing something precious. but you didn’t pull away; instead, you turned your hand over and let their fingers slip into yours.

“hey,” you said, voice soft, barely above a whisper, and W’s heart stuttered in a way that made them feel like it wasn’t so irreparable after all. “are you okay?”

“sometimes,” they started, the words tumbling out before they could stop them, “i forget that you’re real.”

you blinked at them, surprised. “what do you mean?”

they shifted, feeling awkward, feeling seen. “i mean this. being here with you. it feels like a dream, and i’m terrified of waking up.”

a faint smile touched your lips. “this is real, W. i’m real. we’re real.”

and they knew that, in some rational part of their mind. but knowing it didn’t stop the way their heart twisted in knots.

“you were the only good thing i ever managed to dream up amongst my nightmares,” W murmured, a confession they hadn’t even meant to give, something that slipped out like it had been there all along, waiting.

your hand tightened around theirs, and their chest didn’t feel so tight anymore, the edges of their thoughts not so cutting. with you, the bad dreams faded, the fears dulled, and the ashamed parts of themself grew just a little softer.

they remembered when you two used to have sleepovers, how you’d sleep side by side, and they’d wake up feeling safe, as if just being near you could make all the bad things go away. even now, all these years later, they knew they sleep better with you beside them.

“elmo?” you said, bringing them back. your gaze was gentle, the kind of look that made them feel seen, like you weren’t just looking at them but through them, into the places they only laid bare for you.

“yeah?” their voice was rough, the sound scraping out of them like it was pulled from the depths of their very soul.

“i’m really happy you’re still here,” you said, simple and honest.

insecurity twisted in their chest, old and familiar, a reminder of all the ways they’d been told they weren’t enough, weren’t wanted. the shadows of their parents’ abrupt abandonment lingered, whispering that they’d never be worthy of love, never be more than something to be picked up and quickly discarded. but here you were, your hand in theirs, anchoring them, making them dare to believe the contrary.

W tried to laugh it off, the awkwardness seeping into their voice. “you don’t have to say that just because i look like i might be having a breakdown soon.”

you shook your head, your gaze soft but fierce. “no, i mean it. i love you, elmo, cross my heart. and i’ve also… i’ve also missed you. a lot.”

“i love you too, cross my heart twice. and...” W swallowed, their throat tight, sapphire blue eyes shimmering. “i missed you a whole lot more. more than i can put into words.”

for a moment, there was only silence. you squeezed their hand again, and W looked at you, really looked, as if memorizing every detail, every line and shadow of your face. there was that familiar softness in your eyes, a warmth they didn’t think they deserved, but they couldn’t bring themself to let go of it. not yet. so they betrayed their self-effacing mind yet again, just this once.

and then, almost as if testing the waters, they whispered, “you know, this is a little embarassing to admit but i’ve always slept better when you were around.”

you simply smiled. “me too.”

the two of you laid your head down together, hand in hand, and when sleep finally claimed the tired blonde, all they dreamt of was you.

[austenpoppy]

I would disagree sliiiightly. I think this analysis is correct in that whenever Dick feels more responsible and/or guilty (the two lines are sometimes blurred, like it was when he first met Linda Park), which is always the case when he's the leader of a team, he will tend to act more serious, to be more focused, to be more intense, while taking the weight of the world on his shoulders. It can impact the view people have of him.

In fact, it is the very strain of that burden that got him to tell Bruce, in their conversation during the Quake, that he couldn't see himself leading people anymore (that didn't last long, but this conversation is significant nonetheless) like Bruce did, that not doing it anymore was a reflief because being a leader was too stressful.

But even then, Dick being more serious than he is with Bruce doesn't mean he spends his time brooding and scolding at people who don't take the job seriously. In fact, I would say it's a common misconception to say that Dick often berates people (namely Gar) who don't do their job seriously enough. In NTT, Dick would often tell Gar to can the jokes at a critical moment, but it wasn't because he thought Gar wasn't doing his job seriously - it was about Dick unable to hear people joking around when he was too worried/they had to focus because if they didn't it would be the end of their lives or the end of the world. It's not a "I will take you by the scruff to tell you to take this more seriously or to quit" kind of attitude. People often refer to "Titans #19" to underline the idea that Dick can be like that, but this moment was more about Dick being defensive and lashing out because of a perceived failure than anything else (something Dick is prone to do).

The truth is that Dick's natural instinct is to be outgoing, optimistic and to joke around. Even right when he met Kory and had to deal with multiple responsabilities (including being the leader of the Titans) he still was not a straight-faced, overly serious person. How do I know that - apart from multiple moments showing Dick joking around and smiling, even in battle ? When he started acting weirdly (after the Church of Blood's mind-control started to kick-in and he was dealing with multiple personal issues), Kory ended up comparing the man she'd met, who she described as "warm, caring and fun" with the way he was behaving.

Just look at that one time he led the Justice League as Nightwing (it starts around JLA #70 or #71, if my memory serves me right) during an absolutety terrible time : most of the Leaguers had disappeared, and there were serious, world-threatening crises to take care of. He was clearly taking things seriously (started the gig by telling everyone to put their problems aside), and was pretty insecure about his abilities, plus was very worried about where the Leaguers could be, and even then he could make jokes (told Ollie "Got you to shut up for five minutes, didn't I ?" after Olliver cursed him for having rethoric skills), got into battle smiling after a talk with Faith, and he told Kyle he would hug him if he wasn't so freaked out after Kyle's "ghost" proved who he was by saying "Young man on the flying trapeze"..

Dick does take things seriously because he caresTM, but Dick becoming very serious/very intense/borderline obsessive is never a good sign. It either means there's an incredibly big threat coming up/people have been hurt, or Dick's getting into his own head and feeling burned out/guilty/like a failure. And both can be true at once. Linda seeing Dick as "the most intense guy she's ever met" was after the Wildebeest society fiasco, after Mirage, after the failed marriage, after getting demoted as leader of the Titans, and he was on top of that blaming himself for yet something else.

Don't think Dick is "only" fun when he's with Batman, that he is "in reality" very serious. No, Dick is a fun and warm person who takes things seriously because he caresTM and has a tendency toward self-blame, but him acting serious all the time and getting really intense is a sign that something's dreadfully wrong.

One of the things I love about Nightwing is that: "yes he is the funny and nice one".... When compared to batman. By normal standard, he is pretty serious actually.

Also I like the changes of personas when he is with different groups ? Like he takes on the role of the light to Batman's darkness, the lighter one when he is with Batman and later on the Batfam.

When he is with the Titans, he is the leader and the planner and he feels responsible for the team so he is more serious.

And when he is by himself the fun part is to get to a balance in both personas ?

But regardless of the people he is with, his hyper competence and the way he has to bring people in and get people to trust him is kinda always there, and I love him.

[lee-laurent]

Together Again - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke and Tori rekindle their relationship

content: angst, fighting, fluff, lots of fluff, oc x ex!john marino

wc: 3.3k

notes: PART 9! ONE MORE!!! i think the resolution between luke and john is kinda abrupt, but i didn't want to drag it on anymore and i think john would come to his senses. so... also this ends on a conversation that's gonna be the plot of the next part!!

Showing up at Luke's door made her feel like she was in a rom-com. Would've been even better if she was soaked in rain, but... she wasn't. Instead, she was awkwardly standing outside Luke and Jack's apartment, her hand raised to knock when it flew open, revealing a very put-together looking Jack.

"Tori?"

"Jack?"

"Yeah? I live here. What're you doing here? Luke doesn't want to see you."

"Oh, um, he doesn't?"

"No, he--"

"Who're you talking to?" A groggy Luke joined his brother at the door, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair a mess. "Tori?"

"I was just telling her to go. I--"

"No, no. It's fine, Jack. Come on in," Luke yawned, pushing his older brother out of the way.

"Whatever. I was just leaving anyway," Jack rolled his eyes, shutting the door loudly behind him.

"Where, um, where's he headed?" Tori asked, awkwardly rubbing her arm.

"Huh? Bar, probably. Not sure."

"You're not joining him?"

"Not really in the mood. More focused on the fact that the girl I'm supposed to be on a break from is standing in my apartment."

Tori let out a shaky breath. "I know I probably should've texted first. But... I wanted to tell you in person."

Luke sighed, leaning against the wall, his eyes studying her. "Wanted to tell me what?"

The words came out sharper than he'd intended, and he sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I just... I don't know what you could possibly have to say to me, Tori."

She stepped closer, her voice barely audible. "Can I start with 'I'm sorry?' Because I am sorry, Luke. I thought that taking a step back, would help things. But I just pushed myself back to John. Which... which isn't where I belong. I belong with you. And I-"

"Yeah? Sleeping with your ex-boyfriend really did wonders for your self-discovery, didn't it?" he bit out, his voice dripping with hurt. "Not the fact that he's your ex for a reason?"

"Luke. Let me finish. I know what I did feels unforgivable. But it really did make me realize that John isn't who I want. He's not who I need. Not even close. And honestly, he never was, even when we were together. It's you, Luke. It's been you for a while now."

Luke looked down at her, his jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides as he processed her words. Finally, he murmured, "How am I supposed to believe that? You don't know what's it like... thinking that I wasn't good enough. Like I was just a... a place-holder."

"You were never that to me, Luke," she whispered. "I didn't leave because of you. I left because I was afraid of how much I felt for you and how it was going to affect my family. And I know how backwards that sounds. I know. But I didn't know what to do with it. I thought I'd figure it out and come back to us more... solid. More sure."

"Yeah, well, I didn't need you to be 'more sure,'" he replied, his voice thick. "I just needed you."

Tori's hand reached out, her fingers brushing his bicep. "Luke... I know I messed up. And I'm not asking you to just forget it all. But I'm asking you to hear me. Because walking away from us was the biggest mistake I could've made."

"I just... it made me feel..." He trailed off, struggling with his words, his fingers nervously brushing through his hair.

Tori stepped even closer, until there were only inches between them. "I know. I'm sorry. I thought I needed clarity, but I just need you. Luke, you're where I belong and I'm sorry it took me this long to realize."

He swallowed. "And what if I don't know if I can just... let it go, Tori? I refuse to go through that again."

"Again, I'm not asking you to let it go," her hand found his, removing it from his hair before he made himself go bald. "But I'm asking you to let me try. Let me show you that I want to be here. I know I made a royal mess of things, but I'm willing to put in whatever it takes to make things right. If you'll let me."

Luke's gaze softened as he looked down at their intertwined fingeres, and his thumb began to trace gentle circles on her knuckles. "I've missed you, you know that?"

Tori's heart leapt, but she kept herself steady. "I've missed you too. So much, Luke."

His lips quirked into a faint smile as he looked at her, the distance between them closing even more. "Alright. Maybe we can try again. But this time... no second-guessing, okay?"

She nodded, tears pricking her eyes as relief washed over her. "No second-guessing," she echoed. "I'm all in this time. For real."

And as he pulled her into a tight hug, Tori let the tears finally fall. They were finally starting over--together.

~~

"Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?" Tori asked Ally for the tenth time.

"We're gonna be fine, V. Relax. Go have fun with Luke. Ri-Ri and I are gonna have a blast," her best friend laughed, placing her hands on both of Tori's shoulders. "Breathe."

Tori let out a long breath, closing her eyes as she tried to relax. It wasn't the first time she was leaving Riley with a sitter, especially Ally, but the nerves of going on a date with Luke again were getting to her. Her instincts were kicking in and she felt the need to protect herself and her son.

She took one more deep breath, giving Ally a grateful smile. "Okay... okay. I'm fine. Thanks for helping out."

"You deserve this, Tori. You'll come home, and Ri will be fast asleep."

With one final hug to Riley, who was happily playing Paw Patrol in the corner, Tori headed to meet Luke. Why was she so nervous to see the man she loved? Maybe she was worried about ruining everything again.

When she arrived at the quaint pho restaurant, she spotted Luke right away. He looked more put together than when she'd showed up at his apartment, and he broke into a smile the moment he saw her.

"You made it," he stood up to greet her.

"Almost didn't, but Ally wouldn't let me dip on you."

Luke laughed. "Remind me to thank her." His voice softened as he looked down at her. "I'm glad you're here."

They settled into their seats and Luke gestured to the menu. "This place is a hidden gem."

"It's perfect. I haven't had pho in ages. Eating out with a toddler usually only consists of Chick-fil-A and pasta. So this is a treat."

Tori was worried that the conversation would be awkward, that they'd sit there in silence between topics, but it wasn't. It was just like it was before. The conversation stayed light, talking about Riley, hockey, and funny things they'd seen recently. But as the bowls grew emptier, the conversation grew deeper, more reflective.

"Luke, y'know that I don't take any of this for granted, right? Being here, with you... it's everything to me."

Luke reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. "I'm glad you feel that way, Tori. Because I don't want half of you. I want all of this--all of you."

"You have all of me, Luke," she whispered. "I'm here."

Luke's smile grew, his eyes warm. "Tori, I don't think I can even put into words how much I missed you... and Riley."

"Riley will be thrilled to see you. He never shuts up about you and hockey."

"Future NHL player."

"Hmm... not sure about that one."

"I'll train him. He'll be skating in no time."

Tori shook her head, failing to hide her smile. "Whatever you say, Luke. Whatever you say."

~~

"Ri-Ri, look who's here," Tori grinned, pulling her son's attention away from his Duplo.

"'Uke!" he screeched, running to the door. He wrapped his arms around Luke's leg, hugging as tight as he could.

Luke chuckled, leaning down to ruffle Riley's curls. "What's up, buddy?" he asked, grinning as Riley clung to him like he'd never let go.

"'Uke! Play 'ego!" Riley said, tugging on Luke's hand, leading him eagerly to the pile of brightly coloured blocks on the carpet.

Luke shot Tori a smile over his shoulder, clearly happy to be back. She couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through her as they interacted. It was a different feeling than the one she got watching John and Riley. She wasn't sure how to explain it, but the feelings were too different to compare.

She settled onto the couch, watching as Luke dove into building towers and playing Bob the Builder with Riley. The two of them fell easily into their rhythm, Luke making exaggerated sound effects that had Riley giggling uncontrollably. Tori had never seen him so at ease with anyone except maybe his dad.

"You've got quite the builder here, Tori," Luke smiled, helping Riley to rebuild Scoop, the yellow digger. "Forget hockey. You've got a future architect."

Tori laughed, loving how natural it was having Luke there. She could picture their life together with Riley--a little family unit. He fit seamlessly into their lives. Why had she ever had doubts about him? Why had she let herself get in her head and sabotage something that clearly made Riley and her happy?

"Should we see how high of a tower we can build, Ri?" Luke whispered, earning a very enthusiastic nod.

"'uper tall!" Riley squeaked, handing Luke another brick. He balanced it easily, but then, with a grin, reached for Riley's nose.

"Boop! Oh no, the nose monster got you!" Luke declared, making Riley shriek. "We better protect our noses!"

Riley threw his hands over his face, giggling as Luke chased him around the room. When he finally caught him, he scooped him up, spinning him in the air as Riley erupted into laughter. Tori had never heard him laugh so hard in his life.

"'Gain! 'Gain!"

Luke raised his eyebrows, pretending to consider it. "Hmm... I don't know. I might be too tired. Unless..." He gave Tori a playful glance. "Unless Mama helps us with our super-duper high tower!"

"'Elp us, Mama! 'Elp us!"

Tori laughed, sliding down next to them, joining in the building with mock-seriousness. "Alright, team. Let's make the tallest tower ever."

They spent the next half-hour building, laughing, and toppling their creation over and over. Eventually Riley snuggled up to Luke, yawning with a sleeply smile, clearly ready for a nap.

"Nap time, Ri?" Tori asked, standing up and brushing off her jeans.

"No 'tank 'oo."

"Wasn't really a question, bubba. It's nap time."

"I don' know," he shrugged, snuggling closer to Luke.

Luke chuckled, looking up at Tori. "Someone's found a new nap spot."

Tori shook her head, smiling as she crouched back down beside them. "This is maybe the second ever time he's not wanted a nap," she teased.

Riley grinned sleepily, his eyeslids drooping. "Nap 'Uke," he mumbled, pressing his face into Luke's shoulder.

"Looks like you've become the favourite... again."

"What can I say? I build a mean tower," Luke said, gently adjusting Riley. "He's a special kid."

"He is," she whispered. "Thanks for being here... with us."

He reached out, giving her hand a loving squeeze. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

~~

Tori was on the phone with John, pacing around the living room while Luke and Riley happily played with his toys on the floor. Luke's laugh echoed through the room as Riley squealed, but her attention was on listening to John's request.

"Look, Tori, I know it's last minute, but I need to switch weekends with Riley. My brother can't come another time, but I'll take Ri next week to make up for it. I promise."

Tori bit her lip, looking at Luke who was obliviously helping Riley with his game. Next weekend was the first free weekend that Luke had and they were planning an outing to the aquarium. Riley hadn't been since he was one and Tori wanted to see if he'd still love it as much as he did then.

"John, next weekend's... kind of important," she said, hoping he'd understand without pushing. "We have plans."

"I get it, Tori, but I wanna spend time with my brother, it'd be hard with--"

"Maybe you should've thought of that before we had a child, John. I--"

"I'm asking you to switch one weekend, Tori. It's not that deep."

After a long pause, Tori sighed. "Fine. We'll work it out."

She ended the call and sat down, watching Riley climb into Luke's lap, his face lit up as he explained the latest addition to his Playmobil pirate-ship. Luke looked up, noticing Tori spacing-out.

"What's up?" he asked, setting Riley on the floor next to him, the toddler still babbling away.

"John needs to switch weekends," Tori said, trying to keep her tone neutral. "I... it would mean Riley would go to his next weekend instead of this one."

Luke's face fell, though he quickly masked it. "Ah, okay. I know you were looking forward to next weekend, but shit happens, V," he said with a small smile, though there was disappointment in his eyes. "It's gonna be fine. I mean, I can cancel shit with Z and Jack this w--"

"You're not cancelling on hanging out with your friend for us. We'll reschedule. I... I want you to be there with us. A little family outing, but you didn't sign up to cancel shit with Jack."

"Tori, I know what I signed up for. And I'm here for both of you. Z and Jack will understand."

"Nope. No way. You're not cancelling. John--"

Luke sighed.

"What?" Tori's brow furrowed.

"Just... sometimes it's hard knowing that because John's in Riley's life... he'll always be in yours too."

"I know it's not ideal, but... you're not a second choice. I promise."

"I know, V. I know. I--"

"Mama! 'Uke! Pirate! Arrr!!! 'Uke, 'oo play now?"

"One second, bud. Just let me finish talking to Mama."

"Everything is gonna be fine, Tori. We'll figure this out. Don't let it stress you out. I love you."

"I love you too, Luke."

"'Uke!"

"I'm coming, Ri! Let's see your pirates!"

Tori sighed, running a hand through her greasy hair. She had been looking forward to John's weekend. She was going to take a nice shower, clean the house, binge some TV and drink a few glasses of wine. Now... she was gonna have to take a babywipe shower and pray she didn't fall asleep in the middle of the day.

~~

Luke was packing up his gear when he noticed John lingering by his stall. It was unusual for them to end up alone together, but everyone else had already cleared out. Luke hesitated, but nodded in John's direction, signaling he was ready for whatever conversation John wanted to start.

John approached, hands tucked in his pockets. "Hey, Luke. Got a minute?"

"Sure," he replied, setting down his bag. He straightened, unsure of where this was going.

John shifted, looking uncomfortable but determined. "I just... I wanted to say that I appreciate how you've been with Riley. He talks about you a lot, and Tori said he's clearly happy when you're around. I can see it too."

"Thanks, John. Means a lot. Riley's a great kid, and I care a lot about him."

John nodded. "Look, I'll admit, it hasn't really been easy watching another guy take on such an important role in my son's life. But it's obvious Riley looks up to you. And I don't want him to feel like he has to choose between us, y'know?"

"Trust me, I don't want that either," Luke said sincerely. "You're his dad. I'm never gonna try to take your place. But I also want to be there... for both of them."

A silence hung between them, a final mutual understanding. Finally, John cleared his throat. "I think as long as we're both on the same page... for good, that's what matters. Riley deserves to have people that care about him. And I see that you really do."

"Absolutely. I'm here for both of them, but I respect your role in his life."

John extended his hand, and Luke firmly grasped it, both of them nodding. This was it. Peace at last. They finally had made peace. And Luke felt a renewed sense of purpose. Riley and Tori were his family. And he'd support and protect them, no matter what.

~~

Tori was scrolling through her phone, her half-eaten bowl of cereal forgotten in front of her. Riley was at John's and she was finally getting a moment to hereslf.

"Hey," Luke said, sliding in the room, looking... oddly calm.

Hey," she placed her phone down. "What's up?"

"I had a chat with John the other day," he began.

Tori swore her heart stopped beating for a second. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It was... it was good. We talked about Riley, about us. And we, uh, we finally seem to be on the same page."

"Wait? Really?" She couldn't believe that John had been so mature about it. "That's amazing, Luke! I'm so happy to hear that."

"I know. It feels good. Like the weight has been lifted off us."

Tori nodded, returning to her cereal. "Thanks for doing that, Lu. For all of us."

"Anytime, V. Anytime."

~~

Luke wasn't used to activities that involved lots and lots of excited children, so he couldn't help but feel a little out of place at the aquarium. He watched as kids ran around, their voices echoing through the dimly lit rooms, poiting at fish and pressing their faces against the glass.

Riley, who was practically vibrating with excitement, darted ahead, running as quickly as his little feet would take him. "'Ook! 'Uke, 'ishies!" he squealed, his face lighting up at the sight of a massive tank full of colourful, tropical fish.

Luke laughed, crouching down beside him. "Ya see that big one over there, Ri? I think it's giving you the stink-eye," he whispered conspiratorially, making Riley giggle. They stayed there, noses pressed to the glass, Riley's hand clutching Luke's while Tori trailed behind, smiling at how perfectly they fit together.

Riley pointed at an orange clownfish. "Nemo!" he declared proudly, looking up at Luke for confirmation.

"Yep, that's Nemo! And what about that one?" he pointed to a tiny, darting blue fish.

"Dowy!"

Tori joined them, her hand brushing Luke's shoulder as she knelt beside them. "Expert fish spotter Riley Marino. I like the sound of that. What about you, Ri-Ri?"

"Wiley Mawino!"

"Yes! That's you!"

They moved through the exhibits, Riley darting between tanks, his awe palpable. Luke and Tori held hands, exchanging smiles as they watched Riley live his best life.

"We should do this more often," Luke suggested, squeezing Tori's hand.

"You think?"

"Duh! This is so much better than sitting around and playing 'chel with Jack all day."

Tori cackled, "Luke!"

"Just telling the truth. Love you, V," he turned, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

"Love you more, Lu."

~~

"You want me to meet your family?" Tori asked, trying to make sure she had heard Luke correctly.

"That's what I said."

"Luke..."

"I know, I know. It's a big step, but I know everyone would love you and Riley. It's a good chance for him to hang with new people."

"Meeting you family is... big. Like life-changing big."

"I know it's a big deal, but I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure. Plus it's just a few days at the lake, nothing intense. My mom will eat up the time with a toddler. I think she's been secretly waiting for a grandchild."

Tori laughed, adjusting the sleeping toddler on her lap. "I... can I have some time to think about it? It'd be our first vacation together and my first time with your family. That's..."

"You've got all the time you need, Tori. Jack, Q, and I spend like most of the summer there, so any weekend that works for you... we'll make it happen."

"Deal."

[azrielslittleslut]

Azriel Appreciation Week- Day 1

Cool Quiet

@azrielappreciationweek

Summary: Azriel is sent on a mission to Illyria, gathering intelligence on a possible uprising. His shadows keep him hidden, but even his shadows cannot hide the camp residents from the fear and terror of his presence.

Warnings: language, dark!Az, mention of alcohol, reference to torture and violence

Word Count: 1.5k

The icy chill of the Illyrian mountains cut through Azriel's leathers, chilling his bones and rattling his teeth. The snowy gray landscape seemed to be endless, filled with the smoke from the fires of the various war camps situated in the valleys. He could hear the sound of warriors sparring, wings flapping, and even the distant murmur of the camp women carrying on with their daily, horror-ridden lives.

Gods he hated this fucking place.

With a steady hand, he raised Truth-Teller, the obsidian blade freshly sharpened. He twirled it expertly in his scarred fingers, his cold eyes focused on the barren landscape before him.

Azriel hated coming here, but Rhys needed his abilities to look into rumors of uprisings in one of the camps. Cassian could have come here, of course, but if there truly was an uprising, Rhys thought it was best to keep their knowledge of it a secret.

So, the task was up to Azriel, the feared and deadly spymaster and shadowsinger of the Night Court. He was the keeper of secrets and the conduit of pain and horror. He had done things that were whispered in hushed tones around campfires, and just the mention of his name made people's hearts skip a beat from fear.

Azriel pulled up his hood, the material long enough to cover his forehead and most of his eyes. He also pulled up the black turtleneck that would cover the rest of his face. Between these two articles of clothing and his shadows, nobody would recognize him.

His shadows swarmed him, wrapping him in dark tendrils, whispering secrets in his ears as they winnowed him to the outer edge of the camp.

Auron is beating his wife. His children are watching. Do you want us to take you there?

Odessa is meeting with her secret lover. If her husband knew, he would kill her. Should we take care of it?

Azriel did his best to block the voices of his shadows, silently telling him that he needed to focus on the task at hand. But his shadows rarely listened, always telling him of the comings and goings of anyone around and offering to take him to different places.

Take me to the heart of the camp, he whispered to them, his grip tight on Truth-Teller.

Yes, master, they responded, and he barely had time to prepare his body and mind for the icy chill that he felt as they winnowed him.

The voices of the war camp were all around, so loud that, for a moment, Azriel worried that his shadows had left him, leaving him exposed to the Illyrians. But as he looked around, nobody was paying attention to him, their focus on whatever chores they were assigned to.

Good. Azriel was still hidden in plain sight.

Females darted to and fro, some of them carrying baskets of laundry, while others were holding bags of food, no doubt heading home to cook for their good-for-nothing husbands. The males were busy training or cleaning weapons, their leathers gleaming in the small fires surrounding the center of the camp.

Azriel fought back the rage he felt at being here, in the place that he hated more than any other. He made it a point to let Rhys know how much he owed him for making him do this.

Az wasted no time in focusing on the common folk, knowing that he would get no solid intelligence from them. They were all pawns in a game, nothing more than numbers and bodies to make up the Illyrian ranks. Instead, he set his sights on the larger cabin situated at the east end of the camp, the chimney puffing out large plumes of smoke.

The camp lord's house.

Azriel moved, dwelling in every pocket of shadow, his presence in the camp totally unknown to those around. He shadow-walked past a warrior who had just gotten his ass handed to him by his opponent. The young female who was tending to one of the fires didn't notice him as his shadows carried him by, blending in with the shadows cast by the flames.

Eventually, his shadows carried him into the house, right into the living area. They kept him hidden as he stood in the dark corner of the room, his eyes on the two males in the center.

They were seated on couches, their wings drooping lazily onto the ground. Az smiled to himself as he looked at the size of the wings, pointedly smaller than his own.

"If the High Lord shows his face again, we need to deal with him," one of the males said, his eyes looking out the window and into the camp beyond. "I don't like him poking his nose around here."

The other male chuckled. "If he comes here, this camp will deal with it, especially if he brings those two bastards with him." He raised a glass holding dark liquor and took a sip. "We've been wanting to overthrow them for a while."

Oh? Is that so? Azriel thought smugly. Stupid idiots have no fucking idea what they're getting themselves into.

"I look forward to having their wings displayed there," the other male responded, his crooked finger pointing to a bare spot above the fireplace. A spot that was nowhere near big enough to hold all three sets of their wings.

"It would indeed be a nice addition to the place," the other one said with a laugh, his head turned to the side. His eyes looked to the shadows in the corner of the room where Az stood, his gaze wary. "Does it feel like someone else is in here with us?"

Azriel wound his shadows tighter around himself, making them darker. He wasn't worried about getting caught- he knew he could easily deal with these two worthless pieces of shit before they even had time to cry out for their mothers like the children they were.

"You need to lay off the whiskey, brother," the other male said, his tone dismissive. But his eyes were also looking to the corner of the room, his throat bobbing as he nervously swallowed.

Azriel smiled. He willed his shadows to move, just a little, but it would do the trick.

The two males jumped, their wings twitching as they nearly fell off their couches.

"Fucking hell. I'm getting out of here," the first one said, his legs nearly a blur as he ran from the room.

But the second male stayed, his head cocked to the side as he looked at the moving darkness. "Who the hell is there?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. "Show yourself." The male reached for the Illyrian blade that was sheathed at his thigh.

Azriel knew a thousand different ways to use that very blade, and even more ways to disarm the male. He could slice the male's head off without even removing the blade from his shaking hand.

Azriel's shadows reached out, their dark tendrils moving along the floor, the rug, until the touched the male's boot. They moved up his leg like snakes ready to strike.

The male gasped, staggering back to get away from the writhing shadows. "Shit," he barked, blade held high. He looked back at the wall, where the shadows were darkest. "It's you. The shadowsinger."

Indeed. To his friends and family, he was always Azriel. Brother. Uncle. Friend. A loyal companion they could always rely on to protect and serve.

But to these people... He was the shadowsinger. They spymaster. The one who would torture them so severely that their loved ones wouldn't be able to recognize their mangled corpses.

Azriel grinned, commanding his shadows to reveal him. Not all the way, of course, but just enough that this male would know who had heard the conversation.

The male's eyes widened in pure terror as he beheld what was before him. Shadows and more shadows wrapping around a powerful, leather-clad body. Truth-Teller gleaming in the darkness.

And hazel eyes glowing with rage.

"I'll be sure to tell the High Lord about your... decorations," Azriel said, his voice so low it blended into the shadows around him.

But the male heard him, made evident by the puddle of piss now dripping onto the floor. "I-" The male's eyes were pleading. "Please, we-"

Azriel winnowed into shadows before the male had time to explain. He had enough evidence to present to Rhys, a sure sign that there was in fact an uprising on the horizon.

He moved through the shadows of the camp as he left, his ears picking up on the conversations around. It seemed that rumors of his presence here were already spreading like wildfire, sending the camp into utter chaos.

"The shadowsinger was here! Get in your houses!"

"Lockdown starts now!"

"Weapons at the ready!"

The shadowsinger. The shadowsinger. The shadowsinger.

Azriel smiled to himself as he left the camp, his shadows carrying him home. He wondered what horror stories would be spun about his particular night, and he looked forward to hearing them, knowing that all of them would have small pieces of truth woven into the lies.

Azriel was the shadowsinger, after all. A legend. A beast. A creature with no heart or feeling, both myth and terror.

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124

@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz

az week tag list: @bookwormysblog @fourthwing4ever

[ikinremu]

pls can you write dad's friend Emmett? 😭😭🩷

you’re so real for this anon, ofc i can!! i’ve been wanting to write dbf for SO long and just never got round to it so thank u for giving me a reason to!! honestly really loved writing this, thank you for your request i hope you enjoy!! <3

LOUSY

dbf!emmett x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k (i got a little carried away😭🫠)

! smut warning !

tags: masturbation, p in v, age gap, praise, dirty talk, light spanking

Your parents weren't home; Emmett was. That wasn't at all unusual, they often called upon him to keep watch when they were gone. Not that you needed it, your twentieth birthday was coming up soon, it was more for the sake of your little brother - who'd been fast asleep for hours.

You had no doubt he was still locked in a peaceful sleep, his room tucked away at the opposite end of the house. As for Emmett, he was - presumably - where he was typically found: lounging about downstairs with a harsh tv glare in his eyes. By your standards, that was safe enough to permit some alone time.

Carelessly, you tossed your pyjama shorts to the bedroom floor, the sodden fabric of your underwear hanging round your knees as you slipped your hand between the parting of your thighs.

Breathing softly, you gently pressed your fingertips to your clit, tracing supple circles over the sensitive spot as you wasted no time in finding exactly where you required them most.

Slowly, you slipped a finger within the warmth of yourself, followed shortly by the accompaniment of a second. As you revelled in the greatly-needed sensations, you couldn't quite prevent the way your mind began to drift - not that you particularly wanted to.

However you were a little stunted as your brain began to flood with image of someone very familiar, someone you could hear walking around downstairs.

You'd had a sort of 'thing' for Emmett for a while; it was rather difficult to kick it. He was always so pleasant toward you, and annoyingly attractive in many ways. You found plenty logic in blaming this on the fact he was at the house right now, it was the only reasoning you would allow yourself to face.

Your eyelids fluttered together as you focused your touch where you required it most, curling in and out of your soaking cunt as your arousal heightened further by each passing second.

As much as you wished against it, the image of your father's longtime friend was cemented in your mind. Not just the image, the sound of his voice, just.. him.

"Fuck..” You whispered, barely audible, an odd blend of frustration and satisfaction. Your features screwed together as you quickened the pace of your fingers, flicking through the lewd scenes in your mind.

You were long beyond the initial guilt now, coming to accept that the vision of your father's closest friend had your back arching from your bed and arousal pooling between your thighs.

You completely lost yourself in the sensations; and willingly, pressing your heavy head back into one of your bed's many pillows as you squeezed your thighs around your hand.

The rhythm of your breathing was heavy as you set the perfect pace, picking up the speed of your fingers as you murmured mindlessly to yourself. Although this time, the hushed utter of 'fuck' didn't fall from your own lips. At an instant, you snapped your eyes open once more, darting to the only thing worthy of drawing focus.

Emmett stood stationary in the doorway to your bedroom, an unreadable expression painting his features, a tall glass of water in his left hand.

Immediately, you seized the closest blanket to your side, yanking it over your bared legs as embarrassment masked your face, breath caught in your throat as you sat yourself back up on your mattress.

With a single, hoarse sound, Emmett cleared his throat, "I brought you water."

That much was clear, and it didn't exactly help your struggle for words. He took a small step forward, placing the beverage atop your bedside table before tucking his hands back inside his worn-out jean pockets, and you couldn't ignore the strain at his crotch.

You pulled your gaze away, unable to bring yourself to look directly at him, "I was just," You began, although no words seemed to follow.

He chuckled, a slight smirk playing at his lips as he failed miserably to diminish it, "Somethin' got you worked up?"

You felt your face grow impossible warm at his words, caught entirely off guard as he observed you from beside the table he'd planted the water atop, bedroom door clicking shut behind his back.

You peered up at him, still apparent of the slick between your thighs as you noticed amusement ghosting over his face, observing the way you processed his words.

Before you were able to conduct some form of answer, Emmett lay out another question, inhaling deeply before, "You ever been fucked before, sweetheart?"

Your stomach fluttered, the question leaving you taken aback as you gazed up at him, cheeks burning with pure, undiluted heat.

"Yes." You managed, battling to keep your gaze trained with his own.

You'd had sex before, a few times, with old boyfriend's who'd since been cast astray from your life. It was.. nice, sweet.

Emmett's gaze bore into you, and suddenly his thumb was brushing swiftly over your face, lifting your chin as his eyes explored every last inch of your flustered face.

"Properly?" He firmed, the pad of his thumb callous against your skin, "Not some lousy shit."

You breathed deeply. 'Lousy' wasn't exactly the word for it, though it certainly hadn't been perfect.

Ultimately, you shook your head, arousal only heightening with the feeling of his touch against your skin, "No."

He stepped even nearer, barely any distance separating the two of you. His mind was whirring, that much you could deduce, the warmth of his palm against your skin making you shudder.

There was a short pause, and you were sure it felt far longer than it truly was.

His voice was a low, deep whisper as he stared intently down at you, running his palm over the back of your neck, "I can show you." He spoke, "You gotta want it, but I can show you."

You couldn't quite believe the words as they escaped his lips, the situation simply felt more absurd with each word. However there wasn't so much as a shadow of a doubt in your mind; you wanted it. You needed it.

"You want me to show you, baby?" He asked, offering your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

You returned a rather frantic nod, practically blurting out, "Yes."

Emmett exhaled at your words, swiping his palm from your shoulder as he murmured something inaudible beneath his breath. His hand crept slowly behind your neck, suddenly bringing your lips crashing against his.

He began only gently, purposeful in his restraint as he moved his lips against yours, sliding his tongue between your lips as the embrace grew hungrier.His mouth never disconnected from your own, palm caressing the back of your neck as he joined you on the bed.

"Fuck.." He mumbled against your mouth as his frame loomed over you. His lips shattered the kiss, his chest heaving as he met your gaze with clear intent. Abruptly, he seized the strewn over blanket from your legs, yanking it off and exposing your naked legs.

Emmett let out a low, somewhat shaky groan, cursing to himself as his eyes fell to your bare, glistening cunt as he discarded the blanket to the wooden floor.

You felt the cool air strike your skin as you inhaled. feeling the heat of his gaze burn into you.

"Jus' look at you." He groaned, his thick, skilful fingers creeping up your legs, seizing your thighs and parting them further, "Sweetest little cunt."

Your hips bucked up as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, teasing you with the gentle pressure.

"Please.." You mumbled, desperate for the friction you'd broken mere moments ago.

Your plea had Emmett's cock twitching inside the confines of his jeans, aching to fulfil what you so blatantly craved.

"Please what, honey?" He coaxed, snaking his hands to the zipper of his jeans, tugging the metal down as you watched through a heavy gaze.

He tucked a hand into one of his two pockets, quickly retrieving a small, square packet. You breathed deeply beneath your pyjama shirt as you watched him pull his boxers down, soon stepping out of his jeans as he freed his hard, pulsing cock. 

You expelled a shaky exhale, full of anticipation as your gaze met with the head of him, his fist wrapped around his bare shaft, pumping at a torturously slow rate.

"Please, fuck me.." You whispered, toying with the bedsheets beneath you as Emmett ran his digit over the slit of his tip.

"Shit, sweetheart." He chuckled amidst a hoarse sound. His eyes trailed down your body, intoxicated by the sight of your sopping cunt, "Up for me."

You nodded, finding zero hesitation in altering your position. You knelt comfortably upon your mattress as he studied your frame, bare from the waist down.

"I want you on all fours, ass up, honey. Can you do that for me?" He murmured, tearing the little papered square between his fingertips, pulling out the condom and rolling it down onto his length as you positioned yourself on all fours, eagerly awaiting Emmett's action.

Unable to resist the sight, he grasped your backside, running his hands over the exposed flesh as he spread you before him, holding you there for a few short moments before releasing his hold. He planted one firm smack to your bare ass, drawing a soft whimper from your throat as your body jolted forward in response.

"Think this little pussy needs to be fucked, huh?" He teased, palm surrounding his length as he angled the thick of his tip to your entrance. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you felt him drag his head up and down your drenched slit, "How bad d'you want it, sweetheart, tell me."

You pushed your hips back against him, whimpering softly as you felt his tip taunt your clit, back arching before him, "Please, Emmett.. I need you."

Hearing his name leave your lips only wound him up further, cock impossibly hard in his grasp as he let go, sliding inside your drenched cunt, "Just need to be fucked right, huh baby?"

A loud, satisfied moan escaped your throat as he entered you, filling your needy cunt with one swift motion. You nodded through a quiet whine as Emmett landed his first thrust, hips smacking against your arched ass with a taunting thrust.

"God, you feel incredible." He whispered, voice gruff and low as his skin collided with yours.

And so did he. His cock fit so perfectly inside you,reaching right where you desired him most. You pushed back eagerly against him, desperate to bring him as deep as possible as he began to thrust against you. His palms were somehow both warm and rough as they slid up your waist, assisting in the way he rocked against you.

"Y'gonna let me ruin this sweet fuckin' pussy?" Emmett taunted, smacking his pelvis against your own as he groaned hungrily, practically grunting with each thrust reaching deeper and deeper.

You nodded, "Yes, fuck!.."

He heaved, feeling your walls clench around him as he pumped into you, his voice laced with gravel and amusement, "What would your dad think, huh doll? His friend fuckin' you stupid while hes not home?"

The taunt shot down your spine like a rush as your body responded to him. As much as it shouldn’t have, it only made the situation more exciting. Despite wishing that wasn’t the case, you couldn’t deny the thrill of how wrong it all was - so wrong.

Emmett’s cock was stuffed firmly inside you, hitting repeatedly at your sweetest spots as you moaned for more.

And he was equally as wound up, satisfied sounds pouring from his throat as he picked up his pace.

"Oh you like that, hm?" He teased, inebriated by the sensation of your pussy squeezing him desperately in response to his words running through your body.

Suddenly Emmett pulled back rather slowly, his length leaving you entirely. You exhaled, head turning back in pointed confusion, shooting a furrowed brow in is direction. With an equally heavy exhale, he chuckled, seizing your hips and flipping you over as though it took no effort, settling your backside at the edge of the bed with your thighs parted for his access.

One hand took ahold of your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly as he stared down at you, his opposing hand guiding himself back between your legs, "Need to see that pretty little face while I fuck you, sweetheart."

His words trailed off as he pushed himself back within the warmth of you. Once more, you jaw fell open in an airy moan as Emmett resumed his pace between your thighs immediately, thumb digging into the crook of your jaw, "So needy.."

Your back arched drastically as he bucked in and out of your drenched pussy, filling you at a flawless rate as your palms slid up the broad of his back, scrunching into his worn-out t-shirt as he grunted.

"Such a dirty girl, letting me use you like this, huh?" He taunted, "Letting me fuck this pretty pussy while your parents aren't home.”

You flung your legs around his bucking hips, allowing him to strike your g-spot as you babbled.

“Yes..” You uttered, thighs trembling either side of him, overwhelmed with pleasure as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, growing louder by the moment.

"Attagirl." Emmett praised, eyes shutting for a brief moment as his hips pumped back and forth between your thighs, grasp sliding under your legs as they surrounded his pelvis, "Quiet for me, doll, don't wanna wake your brother up."

You nodded, suppressing your pleasure to the very best extent you could manage, though it became increasingly difficult as your satisfaction built.

"Emmett.." You mewled through your attempt at hushing yourself, composure continuing to escape you.

"I know. Jus' what you needed, huh? My cock stuffed in this needy little pussy." He teased through another low chuckle, quickening his pace once more.

Cursing under your breath, you nodded in response as his thrusts had your thighs weakening around him.

Without warning, his palm came down on your ass, providing a quick strike, following with a tender squeeze of the area he’d just hit, gripping greedily at your flesh, "Fuckin’ take it, that's right."

With a heaving chest, you jolted at the repeat of a stinging sensation landing on your behind, your upper-thighs coated with your own arousal.

"Shit.." You whined as Emmett struck repeatedly at your g-spot, palms possessive across your backside as he rocked your hips against his every thrust, bringing you nearer and nearer to orgasm.

"I know, honey, can feel you getting close." He teased as his length twitched inside you, surrounded by drenched warmth as he slid in and out of your sopping cunt, "Y'wanna come on my cock?"

You simply moaned in response, nodding subtly along as Emmett gripped your backside possessively, pulling you against each thrust he planted inside you, "Fuck, yes."

"Shit, gonna make me come, baby." He panted, "Give it to me, sweetheart, come on my fuckin' cock."

You let out a strained, rather needy moan, your breathing rapid as your orgasm crashed over your body, legs trembling as you clenched around his shaft, his pace getting sloppier as he got closer.

"Mm, so pretty when you cum, baby." He smirked, landing one final thrust deep inside your cunt as his own release struck, cursing through gritted teeth as he pulsed, "Fuck-"

Through low, rough grunts, he came undone, bringing a single hand to the angle of your jaw, cupping the crook firmly as he ran his thumb back and forth over your neck.

He pressed his flushed forehead against your own, "That better?"

A sweet smile tugged at your lips as he brought your mouth to his once again, his length still nestled comfortably between your thighs as his lips worked in unison with yours.

The embrace was far more tender this time around, rather satisfying as he soothed you down from climax, your mind whirring at an impossible rate - completely specific to one idea; you hadn't the slightest clue how either of you were to act when you next saw one and other.

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Your support means the world to me! I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3

[peachofu]

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ missin’ you 2.3k

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

contains: 18+ smut, explicit language, dirty talk, f and m masturbation, fingering, swearing, brief scent kink, brief mention of pain, multiple orgasms, made with origins!logan in mind, set in late 1970s.

the days were stretching longer as each passed, tedious tasks that distracted you from the distance no longer keeping you occupied.

it had been around three weeks since logan had departed for a mission. he claimed that it was something he had to do, and you didn’t interfere due to his adamance. he stood firmly on getting a job done, no matter the risks, which only made it so much harder for you.

logan hadn’t disclosed the details to you, despite you being the only person he trusts. he was always aloof when you questioned him about his missions, dismissing the conversation with a grumble or quickly switching to another topic.

so you gave up on asking, letting him do what he was so headstrong on doing, regardless of the ache in your heart as you watched him leave. not knowing when or if he was going to return.

-

another restless night approached after a day filled with unwontedly familiar longing. you had slipped into an evening routine, one that brought you an ounce of peace through the distress. it kept you tranquil for a while, focusing on repetitive things like making dinner or engrossing yourself in a book before bed.

you slipped beneath the chill sheets, the lack of a brawny frame to warm you up once again sending a soft huff of dismay from your lips. the bedroom was silent, as it had been for the past few weeks yet you still hadn’t adjusted to it. you refused to.

“god,” you muttered, cupping your face and sighing heavily.

the absence of contact from logan was getting more worrying by the day, and as much as you tried to avoid it, the uncertainty was eating away at you. his missions had never lasted this long, possibly a couple days at most.

constantly feeling on edge led to things worsening, like waking up in the night with nightmares just like logan did. he wouldn’t want that for you. so you stayed optimistic, dismissing the cluster of dreadful thoughts that wavered in your mind.

you reached over the bedside table, fingertips grazing over the pull chain before a ringing sound reverberated around the bedroom. your gaze fixed onto the phone, eyes skeptically surveying over the keypad for a few seconds.

you were taught to always pick up the phone, incase of emergency, but it was almost midnight and you certainly weren’t in the mood for an urgency. but due to the consistent ringing, you reluctantly reached down to pick up the handset, settling it between your ear and shoulder.

“hello?” the words left your lips in a exhausted whisper, voice strained and almost impertinent. but that couldn’t be helped, you had only one thing weighing on your mind, another was unnecessary.

your words were met with ragged breaths from the other end, a sound that you instantaneously recognised.

“logan? is…is that you?” you stammered, eyes wide as you sat up, completely immersed in expecting a reply.

before he replied, the breathing paused for a beat, tension rising rapidly as you began to yearn for a response.

“yeah, darlin’. it’s me,” he finally answered, his voice still retaining its usual huskiness that always put you at ease.

you let out a gentle, breathy exhale of pure relief, a smile spreading over your face. your features twitched indecisively for a few seconds, the overwhelming feeling of consolation consuming you whole.

“i’m—sorry i didn’t call,” he murmured, breaking the momentary silence between you, “things got outta hand. didn’t want you worrying ‘bout me.”

his voice was deep, carrying that standard resonance which you had pined for everyday. to hear his voice after what felt like an eternity filled you with warmth. even with this brief occurrence, despite not being able to see him, touch him, it was enough.

“well you failed at that,” you retorted in a whisper, eyebrows slightly raised as you leaned back against the pillow.

logan let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle in response. the pert tone in your voice never failed to amuse him, especially now. he was well aware of what you were referring to, guilt beginning to creep up into his conscience.

the mission had been rough, sending an array of conflicted emotions his way throughout the process. being away from you for such an unbearable amount of time filled him with anguish, dealing with those emotions didn’t alleviate that.

“yeah, guess i did,” he muttered, a tinge of regret lingering in his tone, “i’m sorry, darlin’. wasn’t fair to leave you in the dark like that.”

another pause filled the line, thick with every left unspoken between the two of you. he could feel the distance between you as much as he could feel the roughness of his own scars. but the sound of your voice was something he had coveted more than he wanted to admit.

“i miss ya,” he said finally, the words a simple gesture of affection but they carried emotion that he rarely revealed to you, “more than anything. you know that?”

your heart swelled with an unmistakable hankering for him, one that you had never experienced before. you wanted no more than to be in his arms again, for him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you embraced each other.

“mhm,” you hummed, finger absentmindedly twisting around the phone cord as his voice echoed through your head.

then came another pause, but the mood had shifted, a distinctive tension passing through the line. the momentary penitence that logan had felt was still present, but it wasn’t the prominent thought in his mind.

“never stopped thinkin’ about you,” he spoke again, voice trailing off into a quiet murmur. you both knew where this was heading, but it was unknown territory.

“just ask me what i’m wearing,” you whispered encouragingly, a roguish smile crossing your face.

“what’re you wearing, darlin’?”

the words sent a shiver down your spine, faint puffs of breath leaving your lips as you reached out to peel the silk duvet off your reclined form.

“one of your shirts,” you whispered, fingertips brushing against each button of his flannel.

you had plucked the shirt from the laundry basket earlier today, enveloping yourself in the heady, manly scent. wearing his flannels to bed had become a ritual for comfort, which came to be incredibly fortunate.

“nothing underneath,” you followed on, fingertips running up and down the thin fabric.

logan let out a low growl in rejoinder, his jeans tightening as the image of you wearing nothing but his flannel flooded through his mind. he felt a fleeting note of shame from getting aroused so quickly, but you always had that effect on him, there was no benefit in denying it.

“is that so?” he spoke, his voice dropping an obvious octave.

his free hand snaked down towards his belt, unbuckling it with a deft precision. the soft metallic clink of the prong releasing resounded across the line, the vivid picture of logan freeing his erection from the confines of his boxers sending warmth through your body.

“wish you were here to help me, baby,” he murmured, his voice now a sultry tone.

there was an unequivocal tremble in your breath as his words registered, his sultry tone sending heat directly towards your core. you squeezed your legs together gently, your inner thighs slick with arousal.

“touch yourself for me, baby. give me something to keep me goin’ until i get back,” logan commanded serenely, the underlying hunger in his voice betraying his true intentions.

“okay,” you whispered, obliging to his order almost immediately due to the growing ache between your legs.

your hand glided down the plane of your chest and down your midriff, slowly dipping beneath the hem of logan’s flannel. you adjusted yourself against the mattress, parting your legs slightly and reposing into the pillows.

the handset was still fitted between your head and shoulder, causing your neck to strain scarcely. but you paid no mind to that, gradually working your hand down towards your glistening folds, moist with anticipation.

“god…” you suppressed a moan, your lower lip slipped between your teeth to silence yourself.

“c’mon, don’t hold out on me. i wanna hear all those pretty little moans,” logan whispered, tugging down his jeans and yanking his boxers down slightly.

he freed his pulsing erection, thick veins running along the shaft, stopping at his glossy tip. he grasped the handset firmly in one hand, leaking cock in the other. his calloused palm added a partial bit of extra friction, already causing his ragged breaths to huff heavier.

your fingers finally came into contact with your soaked pussy, a quick gasp escaping your lips at the sudden connection. your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, adjusting to the feeling of your fingers working their way over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“f-fuck…logan,” you moaned, beginning to set a rhythmic circling motion around your clit.

the sound of his name elicited from your lips like that was enough to make him come undone. his grip tightened on the handset, his other hand sliding up and down his length at a slow pace. his jaw tensed, pleasure sparking through his lower half as he jerked himself off.

“that’s it, baby…lemme hear ya,” logan cooed, proceeding to work his hand against his length, pre-cum beading at the tip.

his words sent you into a moaning frenzy, your hips bucking up against your fingers as they continued their stimulating assault. your mind was solely focused on imagining logan beside you, picturing that they were his fingers instead of yours.

“fuck,” he groaned, uneven breaths leaving his lips as he picked up the pace, the pleasure building up at a rapid pace. the sound of your moans drove him unruly, his mind painted with how you looked. all sprawled out on the bed, cheeks rosy and fingers slick with your fluids.

the two of you simultaneously pleasured yourselves, the delicious cocktail of moans mixing together. all of the built up longing was being appeased, a temporary distraction from the distance between you both.

“feels s’good,” you uttered, opening your eyes to glance down at your fingers and the arousal that coated them.

you swallowed thickly, gnawing at your bottom lip as you prodded one against your entrance. you brows furrowed at the sensation, jaw slacking as you slowly slipped your finger inside. the intrusion took a few seconds to adapt to, before you decided to add another.

“logan!” you whined, another digit sinking into your tight channel.

logan’s whole body tensed at the sound of your voice switching to a higher pitch, a grunt escaping through his gritted teeth. he fisted his cock quicker, knuckles repeatedly grazing against the coarse hair at his base. his hand was slick with pre-cum, eyebrows upturned in bliss with every pump of his hand.

“that’s right, darlin’. so good for me,” he spoke breathlessly, clearly nearing the edge of release as he struggled to choke out the words.

goosebumps travelled up your body as you began to piston your digits in and out of your hole, the sound of his voice urging you on even further. the lewd sound of your fingers penetrating your tight hole filled the room, so audible that even logan could hear it. he let out a guttural groan in response, using all of his strength to refrain himself from cumming right there and then.

“need you, lo,” you cried, drool wetting your lips as they parted even wider.

“fuck, baby, i’m right here. focus on my voice,” he mandated hoarsely, stifling a guttural moan as he thrusted into his hand, pre-cum dribbling down his knuckles.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t ya? you gonna listen to me?”

arousal dripped onto the under-sheet as you continued your movements, curling your fingers into a beckoning motion. tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, fingers plunging in and out of your taut hole.

“y-yes…i’m gonna cum,” you babbled, sporadic moans leaving your lips.

logan felt his orgasm approaching, his pace speeding up against his twitching cock, eager for that sweet release. he grunted softly, that familiar tension coiling low in his abdomen. his jaw slacked, his sealed clutch on the handset almost destroying it from how strong it was.

“cum for me, baby. make a mess for me,” he exhorted through a groan, feeding onto his approaching release with the faint sounds of your pussy and the sultry moans escaping your lips.

you relentlessly pumped your fingers into your aching hole, fingers gripping the silk under-sheet beneath you. the handset was still slotted between your head and shoulder, digging into your cheek. but the subtle pain mixed with the intense pleasure only pushed your further, hips jolting upwards as you felt your stomach tightening.

“f-fuck!” you shouted, your climax crashing over you at an intense force. your eyes turned white for a brief second, slipping back into your head as ecstasy rippled over your body in repeated motions.

logan came just a few seconds after you, bucking up into his hand as hot ropes of his seed spurted all over his abdomen, “f-fuckin’ christ…shit,” he rasped, shaky breaths escaping his lips as his motions slowed, milking his cock for all its worth.

your juices coated your fingers, glistening beneath the dim lighting of the bedroom. you slowly pulled them out of your channel, sighing heavily at the sudden emptiness. your chest rose and fell in exasperation, the aftershocks of the orgasm completely stilling you.

logan basked in the silence for a moment, staring down at the gluey mess of cum dribbling down his knuckles and onto his waistline, coating the coarse hair just below his pelvis.

“guess the wait was worth it then, huh?” logan finally spoke, chuckling breathlessly.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Stevie Fic

This is a Stevie first meeting fic based on this amazing art and concept by @your-unfriendlyghost Like most of my stuff its not betaed. Enjoy!

*************

Evie really fucking wants to hit something.

It’s probably a bad idea considering hitting something-  well, someone-  is what got her here in the first place, but right now it feels like her options are fight or cry and she really doesn’t want to cry. 

The bench in the holding cell is cold under her bare legs, her skirt not long enough to properly cover them, but she can’t bring herself to care in the slightest, despite the fact she’s sharing the holding cell with two guys, one a drunk sleeping off a hangover in the corner, the other a tough looking greaser she vaguely recognizes from school, who’s flicking a lighter idly, clearly bored out of his mind. Her right hand is aching something awful, knuckles all split and bloody, but she clenches her fist tighter, letting the skin pull back, watches the small cuts reopen and the blood well up, filling the tiny cracks in the surrounding skin. It smarts something awful, but it’s kind of mesmerizing all the same. 

She focuses on the sharp sting, pretending the tears pricking her eyes are because of that instead of the fact that mom’s here talking to the police sergeant but she’s still never been further away. 

How did this even happen? A year ago her mother was her favourite person in the whole world. It was the two of them against the world, always had been, ever since dad died back when she was six. Mom never used to have a problem with how she dressed or did her hair, never used to care if she made lewd jokes or chewed with her mouth open because mom’s own manners were even worse and she liked them that way. A year ago if any man mom was seeing raised a hand to her mom would’ve punched him herself, fuck the consequences or the injuries, because she wasn’t ever gonna let a man know she was afraid of him, even if she was. A year ago if Evie had swung at someone for a good reason mom would’ve bailed her out and took her out for ice cream, smiled her crooked smile and told her she was right proud of her and her fighting spirit, made her promise to keep it close to her heart.

Now? Mom’s so different she might as well be a different person, and if this is the thanks Evie’s going to get for defending her, well, she can fucking fend for herself. If mom wants to simper and smile and bend over backwards for a man who treats her like dirt and Evie even worse she can fucking do it. If she wants to take his side and fuss over his broken nose while Evie’s stuck in this fucking cell then good riddance. But Evie’s never gonna throw a punch to defend her again, not ever. Hell, she might not even stick around the house. If mom’s gonna choose a man she met three months ago over the daughter she’s raised for the past sixteen years, why bother? Home hardly feels like home anymore anyway, what with Dean’s clothes in dad’s old dresser, and his presence sucking the air out of every room. Mom’s art supplies have been shoved into the closet to make room for Dean’s unemployment papers, and last week Evie got home from school to find he’d thrown out all her model airplanes. She’d sobbed- she’d been collecting them since she was six, and building the green one was the last thing she did with dad before he passed- but mom just told her to stop acting like such a child because they ‘were only toys anyway’ and went right back to cooking Dean dinner. As if she didn’t know those planes meant absolutely everything to her. As if she hadn’t scraped and saved to buy her one for her birthday every single year without fail. Like she didn’t even care.

A fresh wave of anger rushes through her at the memory, and the next thing Evie knows she’s on her feet, her fist connecting with the concrete wall. She feels more than she hears something in her hand crack, and the fresh wave of agony is definitely similar to when she broke her arm back in kindergarten, but she doesn’t even care. It feels good. She wants to hit something. She wants to hurt. She wants to throw punches the way her mother taught her in the hopes they will somehow help her forget said mother’s betrayal.

“Hey!” A cop with cropped brown hair raps on the cell door with his baton so hard the bars rattle, “knock it off!”

She glares at him for a second but drops back onto the bench. She tells herself it’s because she really does want to get out of here, preferably today, but deep down she knows it’s because the man’s cold eyes and the way he swings the baton make it clear he’d be all too happy to use it on her. 

“Crazy bitch,” she hears him mutter as he walks off,and she stiffens, suddenly wishing she’d spit on him while she had the chance. 

“What’d you expect?” A different voice answers, “These greasy chics are all the same. Wild as rabid dogs.”

A snicker. “And they dress just as poorly. My Adeline ever stepped outta the house wearing something like that she’d never be allowed back in.”

Their voices fade, getting reabsorbed into the racket of the precinct, but there words have already sunk into her skin, leaving cuts under her surface, making a home in the piece of her thats hates herself. She shivers a bit, hugging her jacket tighter around herself, and glowers at the linoleum floor, pointedly ignoring the prickling uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Between her outburst and the cop’s shouting it’s little wonder half the precinct is staring, but she refuses to give them the satisfaction of meeting any of their gazes. Besides, it’s not like she isn’t already used to being looked at like she’s a freak.

“--I mean?” Evie recognizes Dean’s voice easily, even over the din of the rest of the station, conspicuous due to its deep cadence and domineering tone, “that’s not normal behaviour, nice girls don’t do that. I really think I oughta press charges.”

Her head snaps up and she glares at him, snarling, despite the fact he’s pretending to ignore her. Even if he doesn’t see it, mom will, will know that Evie is nothing short of genuine in her hatred, that she regrets nothing. 

Besides, she knows the threat is an empty one anyway. Dean talks a good game but he knows better than to actually press charges for something like this. The cops hadn’t dragged Evieout for her side of the story yet and they’d been all too happy to put her in handcuffs- Dean’s ruined shirt and self righteous anger when he stormed in here had seen to that- but when she does get a chance to speak she’ll be all too happy to explain why she punched him in the first place, and that probably won’t go over too well with a judge.

Of course, mom could always lie for him, rendering her whole defense useless. But Evie’s trying not to think about that. Surely mom still loves her somewhere. Surely she won’t let her own daughter go to the cooler for a half baked crime even if she doesn’t. 

Right?

“It’s those friends of hers,” mom defends, letting out a trilling, fake laugh, smiling as placatingly as possible at Dean and the cop they’re sitting across from. Her eyes dart towards Evie's and away so fast she’s half convinced she imagined it, “they’re such terrible influences. She didn’t mean it.”

“She broke my nose.”

And I'd do it again, asshole, Evie thinks. Her hand is killing her, but if it wasn’t she’d have clenched her fist at the mere thought. That was the one upside of this whole situation: she’d finally been able to do what she’d been wanting to do for months. She’ll be dreaming of the satisfying crunch Dean’s nose had made when she deviated his septum for weeks. 

“She’s your daughter,” Dean continues, “Don’t you think she ought to be punished?”

“Of course I do,” mom simpers, cosying into Dean’s side, gazing up at him with such a sickeningly sweet look Evie wants to vomit,  “But don’t you think pressing charges is a little harsh? I mean, she’s never done anything like this before.”

“Well you have to do something, Caroline, she’s out of control. Talking back, giving me attitude, not listening to you either-”

He keeps going but Evie tunes him out, done listening to his bitching, God knows she already hears enough of it at home. She hates that he’s here, that he lives with them, that he’s ruined every good thing in her life. She hates the way mom looks at him. 

Most of all she hates that she only swung at him once. 

The guy across from her with the lighter is still flicking it rhythmically, the clicking sound oddly sharp, distinguishable even over the overlapping conversations in the precinct itself, but its owner doesn’t seem so bored anymore. In fact, he keeps glancing over at her and then quickly looking away every time their eyes meet. She has half a mind to tell him he’s gonna waste all the gas in his lighter if he keeps it up, or maybe offer him a cigarette in exchange for a light, but she figures the boys in blue might decide to take some issue with that and she isn’t about to get a full pack of marlboros confiscated when she only just bought them.

“Fine!” Dean is suddenly looking right at her, voice rising above the precinct for real this time, “I won’t press charges this time, but I’m sure as hell not paying her bail. She can rot here as far as I’m concerned.”

The rage is a tidal wave bursting through a dam, all consuming and back full force before she can even blink

“Like you could pay it anyway, asshole!” Her unbroken hand is slamming into the bars and he should be grateful for it because it’s the only standing between him and Evie wringing his thick neck, “Last I checked you were a broke, unemployed loser spending my mom’s hard earned money because youre too much much of a fuck up to have a single cent to your own name!”

He sneers, cruelly, but doesn’t rise to the bait. She’ll catch it for sure next time she’s in the house, and he’ll probably find something of hers to break in the meantime, but for the moment he manages to hold himself together.

“Enjoy the holding cell Evelyn.”

“Seriously?” She turns to mom, half desperate, half pleading, knowing it won’t make a difference and hoping foolishly, childishly, that it will anyway, “You’re just going to let him leave me here?”

“Evie-”

“You’re my mom.” Her voice breaks.

Mom flinches, but she hides it well. Evie notices, because she knows her tells, knows the slight trick of her left eye is her way of hiding heartbreak, just like she knows mom never really got over losing dad as much as she always tried to convince herself she did, knows Dean saw the loneliness that festered in mom’s heart and twisted it to his advantage. She knows that mom is strong in some ways but not all of them and that a part of her has given up. She just hadn’t realized until now that the part of her that gave up had given up on Evie.

“I did it for you,” her voice is shaking, and Dean could be screaming and the precinct could be burning around them and it wouldn’t matter because all she can see right now is her mother’s apologetic brown eyes and the fact that she has let her down for the last time, “for you. Not for me. And this is the thanks I get?”

“I’m sorry,” mom whispers, shame twisting her features, “but- but you did a bad thing Evie, and-and we don’t really have the money for bail right now anyway. They’ll only hold you for a day or two anyway and then you can come home and we’ll figure this out, the three of us.”

“Come home?” She can’t help the scoff that forces its way out of her throat, “You think you can leave me here, after everything, and I’ll just come home like nothing happened?”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Try me.”

“Dean’s right,” mom shakes herself and the glimpse of her true self is gone, replaced by the shell of a woman filled with Dean’s slimy thoughts, “you need a few days to cool down. You’re impossible to talk to right now.”

“Imagine how much more impossible to talk to I’ll be when I'm gone and your sack of human shit boyfriend won’t even let you try to find me!” Evie yells at her retreating back, “Huh? Huh, you fucking bitch! Fuck. You.” She punctuates the last two words with a weak rap against the bars, but as suddenly as her anger overtook her it has drained away, leaving nothing but misery in its wake.

The brown haired cop doesn’t have to rap on the bars this time to make her behave. She slinks back to the bench, a woman defeated. 

She doesn’t cry, but it’s a near thing. In fact, she still might. It’s taking a lot of harsh blinking and biting the inside of her cheek to keep the tears from falling, but she refuses to crumple here, to be weak in front of a room full of men who have already seen her humiliated and powerless, men who have actively participated in making her that way. They will not get the victory of seeing her cry too. They won’t. 

“Here,” suddenly the boy with the lighter is next to her, holding out a stained, but soft looking rag. She must have stared at him a beat too long because he clears his throat awkwardly, cheeks reddening ever so slightly, “for your hand.”

“Oh,” she’d all but forgot about her split knuckles and probably broken ring finger, but when she looks down she can see that it’s started to swell something awful, which has in turn increased how much she’s bleeding, “thanks.”

She struggles to wrap the rag clumsily around her knuckles. Without meaning to she makes the mistake of accidentally twitching her broken finger and drops the rag with a hiss, instinctively cradling her hand closer to her chest.

“Here, let me- I mean- I can wrap your hand for you? If you want?” Lighter guy offers. He’s endearingly awkward, and, Evie has to admit, kind of cute, with his thick dark hair and glowing bronze skin. He looks about as rough as most guys from their side of town, intimidating with his leather jacket and seemingly instinctual scowl, but he doesn’t seem scary. Not really. Not when he’s this kind.

Wordlessly she holds out her hand and he takes her wrist with a gentleness that’s unprecedented from such large callused hands, clearly used to hard work, as he carefully threads the cloth over and around her knuckles, covering most of the cuts without tying anything too tightly.

She’s almost disappointed when he pulls away.

“You’re real good at that.”

“Yeah well,” he grins, suddenly roguish and Evie can see how he could be mean if he wanted to, “it’s not exactly my first time bandaging bruised knuckles. Might be my first time bandaging them on a girl though.”

“Oh yeah?” Despite her misery she can feel a smile tugging at the corner of her own lips.

He nods. “You oughta join a rumble sometime, looks like that right hook of yours does some real damage.”

“He deserved it!” Evie snaps. 

“Looked like it,” The boy agrees, holding up his hands in surrender. He’s quiet for a minute, then adds, “Sounded like it too.”

Something about the way he says it makes her pause.

“He was gonna hit my mom,” she admits, shivering at the memory of Dean’s rage and the way mom had tensed, hands flying up to shield her face. She’d said after, when Dean was still screaming and everything had gone to shit that he’d never done it before, but her reaction had told Evie otherwise. “He was standin’ over her and I could see him pulling back and in that moment it felt like my options were hit or be hit. So I punched him.”

“Tuff.”

Evie blinks. “Ya think?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I really do.”

Something in her chest relaxes at that, at not only his non judgemental assessment of her actions but his clear approval of them. She hadn’t realized how much she needed someone on her side until now.

She looks at him, really looks at him. Aside from his thick hair and smooth skin, he’s got slightly crooked teeth and a strong nose. His eyes are angry, but righteously so, not cruelly so, and there is kindness hidden in the curve of his cheek and the calluses of his hands.

“You’re Steve, right? I’ve seen you around school before with that friend of yours. The blond one.”

“Sodapop, yeah,” He gives her an odd look, slightly pleased but clearly taken aback, “I gotta be honest, I’m not used to people knowing my name and not his.”

“Oh,” It’s her turn to blush, “well, I-I guess he never really made much of an impression on me.”

“Well since you seem to know my name, does that mean I made an impression on you?” 

“No,” her cheeks are burning and she doesn’t sound convincing, even to herself, but if she’d seen Steve Randle doing pull ups when she walked past the boys gym class once and made a point of learning his name, that’s no one's business but her own. It didn’t have to mean anything. It didn’t mean anything before now. “Shut up.”

He laughs, and she should probably be annoyed because he’s definitely teasing her but it’s such a nice sound, carefree and inherently defiant, that it’s hard to do anything but enjoy it.

“Someone call for a jailbreak?” 

Before Steve can properly answer they’re interrupted.

Speak of the devil, Evie thinks, silently cursing Sodapop as he grins through the bars at Steve, flanked by an older boy wearing ascuffed letterman jacket and the brown haired cop from earlier. He couldn’t have waited to get here just a few minutes longer?

“Took you long enough,” Steve rises fluidly to his feet as the cop unlocks the cell, and nods at the other boy, “Hey superman. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Gotta be over 18 to bail someone out Steve-o,” Sodapop singsongs, before the older boy can get a word in, “an’ I figured you wouldn’t want me gettin’ mom or dad involved unless I had to.”

“Thanks man,” Steve pulls them each into one of those odd half hugs boys do, clapping the big one called Superman on the shoulder as he pulls away, “speaking of, any chance you’d be willing to sign for one more person? I’ll pay the bail, I just need your signature.”

He looks over his shoulder expectantly and Evie realizes with a start that he means bail for her.

“What? No! Steve you guys can’t- I don’t got the scratch to pay you back-”

“Well I ain’t about to leave you here by your lonesome all night, and it don’t seem like your mom’s fixing to come back anytime soon. Darry here won’t mind signin’ the papers since I’m vouchin’ for you.”

‘’Course not.” The older boy agrees.

Evie bites her lip, considering. She really, really doesn’t want to stay here, especially without Steve for company, but she also doesn’t have the funds to pay him back.

“I really can’t pay you back-”

“Listen, if you really wanna pay me back you could agree to go out on a date with me?“

“O-oh,” she smiles down at her feet, “I- yeah, I’d love to.”

“Really?”

He really shouldn’t sound so shocked. She’d basically been the one to admit to liking him, after all.

“Yeah. Really really.”

“I’m Evie by the way,” she tells him as she and Steve walk side by side out of the precinct, realizing she has yet to introduce herself, despite how long they’ve been talking.

“Oh,” Steve's grin is playful, “I know. I make a point of learning the names of pretty girls.”

“I guess I must’ve made an impression on you too, huh?”

He gently takes her non broken hand in his, twining their fingers together.

‘Yeah,” he agrees, “I guess so.”

[dakotaqueen]

so funny story:

In like November of 2019 Trump signed executive order 13898 which assigned a specific task force to investigate Missing and Murdered American Indians and Alaskan Natives which used DOJ funds and databases to accomplish the goals of tribals governments in regards to this whatever the cost was. It also would investigate cold cases to the best of both tribal law and federal law enforcement ability and allowed tribal law to investigate white on native crimes as wel. Also developed educational and outreach programs to help decrease crime rates by looking at the needs of the population, how to identify it, and how to alleviate these problems they faced. Although the task force was terminated per the executive order 2 years after signing (which is 2021).

Other laws and acts passed within Trump's first presidency (through Congress with a republican majority in senate and a democratic majority in the house) would include Savanna's Act and Not Invisible Act of 2019. Savanna's Act would increase federal, tribal, local, and state law enforcements communication in regards to MMIW and would open up databases for tribal law especially to use in regards to murder and missing cases of Native American women. Not Invisible Act would effectively do the same, but for everything that happens within tribal lands especially.

I understand that Obama (this one is an act) and Biden (this one is an executive order) signed similar ones? But Biden's was more or less carrying on the 2019 one enacted and adding in survivors of violence and abuse from the tribes as well as mental and physical health practitioners (which is good, but the order is more or less the exact same thing as Trump's). This one was furthered as 2 years was not long enough to really make a significant change, but I'm glad it was furthered regardless.

Obama's Act more or less pushed for the hiring of more enforcement and provided more tools, but not enough access to accomplish much (judging by the last 2 president's ability to make executive orders stating that MORE access would be granted). It also authorized new guidelines for certain cases (like sexual assault) amd provided more services to those who were victims. This however was not enough as since 2010 more legislation was passed to allow tribes to prosecute crimes on their own land (which is a crazy thing to need legislation for to be frank). Obama later had an executive order in 2013 that would establish a Native American Affairs Council which would convene to make policies that are believed to help tribal governments in the long run. The Violence Against Women Reauthorization Act would be referenced in Biden's executive order but this one is more or less focused on all women, not just Native American women, but was helpful in furthering later executive orders and laws.

Also out of my own experience for working for state representatives in my state, I have seen that a lot of tribes (at least within my state) who vote Democratic are generally more aligned with Republican views. They are Democratic in a social welfare sense, but beyond that, some representatives have stated that they tend to agree more on Republican stances. But that is an incredibly anecdotal experience and I wouldn't take that any further and push it to most tribes since I'm certain it's different for a lot of them.

So TLDR: Trump's presidency did more in enacting tribal law rights with violence against Native American peoples (women esepcially) than either Democratic Presidency (with my rabbit hole research ofc). Obama got it started, but Trump and the 116th Congress furthered it and expanded it incredibly.

NBC exit poll link

That might start some fights up