#like. i just have a too strong urge to be myself. which is INSANE actually

[moe-broey]

One thing about me is I Will get annoyed when the gay struggler protag has internalized homophobia. LIKE in a very unserious way LMFAO BUT. I do get So Annoyed by it, like, come on man, I know exactly why this happens and exactly what you're going through but like. Idk if it' sthe autism or the transgenderism but like can we just be honest with ourselves. It's okay. Take My Hand 🫱

[fairycosmos]

really urgent

do you have any advice for dealing with violent, aggressive younger siblings? I try to avoid them both as much as I can but I you know tell him to do the dishes or no, I won’t share my food with him and he’ll kick me, scream or yell and he always taunts me oh are you scared I’ll hit you? and I’m physically disabled, weak, have no balance and it’s so humiliating. and I just have to take it and pretend I don’t care. I also always tell myself to just ignore him like never interact with him again unless my dad tells me to or sth and only then but idk I can never keep my promise. UGH now I’m crying because I don’t know what to do. Like they both threaten violence, one is 15 the other 19, but they’re both really strong and muscular. None of my friends understands because most of them are only children or simply don’t live in an insane family. I hate them both so much and I hate that I’m scared of them and that they know it. They’re also both big misogynists and this is like stuff that they’ll brag about to their friends. I’ve tried telling my parents but they don’t really listen, they either don’t believe or tell me it’s my fault if they retaliate. I also can’t tell my grandparents bc it’s humiliating and also I think they would think that I’m exaggerating. But idk what to do and it’s getting annoying. and also dangerous. help (like there’ve been times my brother and his friends have chased me through my town I mean literally, like I had to run away and hide. Or times when the older one has p*ssed on my bed. The older one also at times has threatened to use a knife on my mom and cut her, so she’s also scared off him, which is why she won’t intervene) 😐

hey, thank you for reaching out to me. this is so so messed up and i'm so sorry you have to deal with it - i literally can not fathom the gravity of what you're going through and the fear you have to live with every day. it's completely unacceptable and no matter what, there is no justifying the shit you've been forced to put up with - while i absolutely understand that your parents are scared of your brothers too, they have a duty of care and responsibility to protect you and they are not seeing it through by allowing this to continue. i know it's very nuanced and i'm not blaming anyone other than your brothers for how they're acting, but none of this is fair to you at all. i also understand that telling your grandparents seems like a scary, daunting prospect but if it is something that is on the cards i really urge you to consider it. write down what you need to say if that helps you get your thoughts organised. if you're worried about having to prove their behaviour, would you parents not at least consider backing you up on this? are you able to record a snippet of these meltdowns to show them? though you truly should not have to go to those lengths, it's awful. you just deserve all the support you can possibly get, and i don't want fear of not being believed to stop you from seeking that.

this is a very serious situation and i'm worried about giving you the wrong advice that could possibly exacerbate things. staying in your room and completely disengaging from them as much as possible is definitely recommended as a first step, but there has to be other resources you can possibly look into. i'm going to leave various links below that can offer you that support and those coping mechanisms and i hope you at least check some of them out - i wish i could offer more insight myself but your brothers sound extremely dangerous and i think it's urgent that you reach out to family, friends, communal support, your GP, or the authorities that are actually tangibly around you. i know that's infinitely easier said than done, and i'm not expecting you to gain some superhuman amount of courage that will allow you to sort everything out overnight. that's not your job. it is absolutely 100% understandable that you are scared and traumatised by their actions. what i am saying is that you are clearly at a place where you know this isn't right and that it can not continue, and that the resources below can help guide you towards reaching out and also coping with the situation at hand. i hope you're able to check them out, even just one or two, and implement them into your life moving forward. again, i'm so so sorry you're dealing with this and i hope you know that there are people who can help, that you are not doomed to live in this exact situation forever. sending so so much love your way, please reach out if and when possible. you do not deserve this and i am rooting for you with all of my heart. if you need a friend, someone to talk to a more specific form of support please reach out to me and i will try my best to help as much as i am able. x

if you're under 18 - please please consider reaching out to a teacher, a friend's parent or CPS/childline (resources for that here, here, here and here.) if you are in ever in immediate danger, call the authorities immediately. it is ok to put yourself first.

info on sibling abuse

international abuse helplines

disability and abuse helpline

getting help for domestic violence

domestic violence safety plan pdf

info on toxic siblings and estrangement

living with abuse: coping mechanisms pdf

abuse: self help guide pdf

the survivors handbook: support for disabled women

disability & abuse resource

simple trauma coping mechanisms pdf

coping with trauma worksheets/exercises pdf list

how to report domestic abuse 1

how to report domestic abuse 2

how to report domestic abuse 3

women with disabilities: how to identify abuse and get help

anxiety: coping mechanisms pdf

healing from domestic abuse pdf

surviving domestic abuse pdf

domestic abuse: survivors handbook pdf

identifying and coping with emotional abuse

[bulldyke-rider]

Hi there, I was wondering if you have any advice? I'm in a butch/butch relationship with another lesbian and I've always had trouble figuring out what I am. For the past few months I've been really embracing being butch: chopped my hair off, got rid of all my feminine clothes, etc. And she drools over me when I'm this way, which is great! I do feel sexy but I keep getting this... yearning? To be the opposite way. I hate makeup and shaving and I'm definitely not hyperfeminine. But I just get these insane urges to be the femme to my butch. I want to have my hair longer and be cute for her. Maybe wear a dress so she can put her hands on my thighs when I'm on her lap. I want to be pretty for her and protect her and make her feel big and strong (which she is, she's tall and so handsome and my literal dream woman). I've always longed to have a butch/femme type of relationship.

I'm aware having these urges are probably a sign that I'm not actually butch, which is fine. I just feel so guilty about that exactly, like I'm letting my gf down. I think I'm more like just a tomboy. I also have trauma and absolutely despise the idea of being appealing to men, and they haven't hit on me once since I went completely masculine which has been amazing, but I keep feeling like this isn't really me? I've been confused for years and I'm so exhausted from not knowing who I am.

Listen, you're just insecure and attempt to view yourself from the outside too much. I'm gonna be real.

You don't need to worry about identity because you don't know if you want your hair short or long and don't know if you wanna wear men's clothes or dresses. You can just get dressed. You can just live.

You don't have to try to pin yourself down to something. Would I call myself a femme? Yeah, but basically anyone would. It's a descriptor of me. That's it. It isn't something I worry about fitting or not fitting. I don't focus too heavily on my sense of identity, my ego.

Do you need to be femme? Do you need to be butch? Do you need to worry about that really at all? Or would it be easier to just be and let a label stick when it sticks?

But another thing, how influenced are you by the things you see from women who are in butch/femme relationships, and how much do you tie those things to us? You can have that relationship dynamic that you see us talk about without emulating the look.

She already thinks you're pretty. You don't need a dress to be protective or make her feel good about herself. Like, you're saying you wanna do this and that for her, but you don't need to change your look for that.

[kitten4sannie]

groupie!reader fanatic back here again to rant 🫰🏻

I made the fatal mistake of reading your reply out in public and I had to be physically restrained, biting on my fist to not scream, crawling across the floor, dry heaving, almost got the police called on me.

THE RIVALRY??? ARE YOU KIDDING??? stfu I will punch a wall. Also the positions you picked for the members in hj's band... I swear your brain... FAT SMOOCH. Beautiful, majestic, mind blowing. I would have taken anything you'd have given me but the way our minds connected??? Slay

Also yes, I do write but not for kpop 🫣 but I lowkey want to. I might make a separate account and do an identity reveal haha. reading other people's work is so fun but sometimes I have this insane urge to do it myself, especially the fluff because smut intimidates me. You, though, eat every single time, no crumbs left. I have read every single fic of yours (except jongho's because I physically cannot do it - he's too baby; and mingi sometimes is too bestie for me... but yungi fics SLAP - size kink grahhhhhh) ANYWAY

I would love a tag omg are you kidding me. I'll literally fall in love. I thought I was being a nuisance with that second ask but I'm so happy to see that you replied with just as much enthusiasm, literally made my day.

Also, if I do end up making a kpop account, you might end up blocking me because I'm annoying- but I'll only do it if I get a fic out first, and you'll be the first to know 🫶🏻

hi again!! sjshdhhd you’re so funny stop ittt and not the police getting called on you pleaseee 😭😭😭😭

i’m glad you’re into the rivalry as much as i am 👀👀 yessss you saw the vision too!! i love that our brains are the same ✨ whewww i just thought about jongho playing the drums and i - like imagine how calloused his fingers would be….

anygaysss oh which fandom(s) do you write for? yess you totally should!! ooh yes that’s actually what got me into writing fics like i used to read so many and i was like ‘hmm i would’ve written it this way or changed it here” and then i was like wait i can just write my own shit what am i doing?? yess fluff hits me right in the heart but smut mannn that hits me right in the proverbial dick 😩 holy shit that’s so sweet of you to read most of them 😭😭 noo i feel that about jongho i’m only like a year old than him but he’s still apple boy to meee but sometimes… sometimes i get thoughts bc he’s just so strong and i just want him to toss me around like a rag doll or some shit 😔 oooof mingi is a different story i’d let that man rearrange my guts and leave me high and dry afterwards goddamn that man is soooooo fine sorry i’m getting carried away - yungi ughhhh my god imagine getting split open by the twin towers 👀 alright i swear i’m done fjdkdis

shshdg you’ll fall in love stop it rnnn 😭 yayy okay how about groupie anon?? no you’re not a nuisance in the slightest!! it means the world to me that someone’s this passionate about my stories and plus i like talking to people about fun stuff like this! i made your day?? awwwwh you actually made mine too! i get so happy when i see your asks!

blocking you sjdjhd i promise i won’t! that’s so sweet of you omg yess def let me know!!

[thoughtsaladblog]

Is anybody there...?

Lately my mind has been plagued with thoughts of suicide and death. I've had this overwhelming urge to kill myself- or rather to just die. I haven't really given any thought to the "where" and "how" of it- just that I've wanted to stop living. I want to die.

But here's the funny thing- I'm afraid of what awaits me. It's not like I've lived some insanely holy life where I can guarantee a ticket through the pearly gates- frankly I'm most definitely booked on the elevator that takes you down, down, down. So there's that.. and the fact that "down, down, down" would be guaranteed IF I actually were to take my own life... Which is basically the thing that's stopping me. The absolute fear of that one way ticket to hell, that comes free with every suicide.

So, why exactly do I want to die you ask? No, of course you didn't because no one but myself reads this- and I already know the answer to that. But for the sake of venting here's why... Because I currently hate my life. Nothing seems to e going right. I feel like every new day is empty with nothing to really offer. Perhaps now and again, something happens with one of my students that makes me smile and be grateful- but not long enough to last. No, rather, my most lasting thought is how much I hate my life.

And I get it. I'm being ungrateful. There are so many out there who would gladly take my life in exchange for what they have to go through- and I couldn't begin to imagine their suffering and how they face it... But that doesn't take away from the fact that my life at present is a HUGE disappointment. Every which way I look, I see mirrors reflecting my failures: my failure to leave the country; my failure to complete a degree; my failure to retain friends; my failure to stay fit and look nice; my failure to find love... Everything in life is a failure. I was on the right track not too long ago- and now I'm here. Wherever the fuck "here" even is...

I don't pray or go to church- because I can't. How do I face God seeing the absolute shitshow of a life I'm currently living. So change! Right? Well, easier said than done. See what you don't know- or rather do know, seeing as you are me... anyway... for argument's sake, what you don't know is... I've got strong "L' word feelings for someone I shouldn't feel that way about... And I'm dancing along a fine line that plays with fire simply to trick myself into receiving whatever half-baked version of affection that game feeds my unrequited hopes and desires. I keep trying to break away- because I know I must. But it's too sad. It hurts me to the point where I want to split my chest open just to let out the pain. Ironically, hearing him say just about anything that reminds me that I'm just kidding myself- or that his interests lie elsewhere and will NEVER be directed at me, also makes me feel the same way. So it's a lose-lose situation really.

The truth is, this is one of the biggest things burdening me right now- this conflicted feelings of wanting what I can't have- what I can NEVER have. It's become a daily battle- a struggle. I feel so lonely, unable to share this with anyone, and sinking ever deeper into this feeling of despair- because how did I even end up here? How did I even develop these feelings and are they even real? Or are they just my loneliness clinging on to any sign of affection? Have I taken his kindness and presence and turned it into a safety net to save me from my own loneliness? And if so- how do I come out of this net that's now choking me? And what becomes of the two of us from here on? Do I continue as his friend? I know I don't want to lose him- but I've turned into this girl who is jealous and insecure- wishing and dreaming that things were like they are in my forbidden dreams. But the more I crave this thing that I can't have- the worse I become as a person/friend. I pretend to be ok with things that hurt me to listen to- and it destroys a part of my spirit. And I need to find a way out of this dark abys.

Everyday is a struggle and I just can't anymore. I can't confess these sins- I have dug my grave down too deep and I can't come out of it. can only bury myself in it-which is why I just wish I could no longer live. Just to be free from this never-ending feeling of pain and failure that engulfs me.

[one-boring-person]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write more for Dutch from Predator? Lol it's me btw! I was wondering if it could be a hate to love relationship, where Dutch, being the hardass he is, can't live down his pride, and the reader (preferably female), is a strong independent woman who is actually Poncho's little sister, learning from the best. To add on, can the reader be short as Arnie is so tall, and because I am only 5'2" irl?

I kind of combined this with the enemies-to-lovers prompt request, I hope that's ok! I hope you like this!😊💛

Old Habits Die Hard.

Alan "Dutch" Schaefer (Predator 1987) x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, mention of violence, alcohol consumption

Masterlist

"This round's on me, what does everyone want?" Mac announces as we go to sit down at the table, the mercenary remaining standing.

"A beer sounds good." Poncho says, looking at the rest of us.

We give words of agreement, taking our respective places at the table as Mac goes to leave the room and go to the bar.

"Don't forget a soda, I don't think they sell alcohol to underage people here." Dutch chips in, flashing a pointed look in my direction.

"Very funny." I roll my eyes, forcing a smile as the others chuckle, "A beer is fine, Mac. Thanks."

He nods, ducking from the room we rented out for the evening, leaving the five of us alone.

"So what's all this about, Dutch? Got us another job?" Blain questions, the gruff man leaning back in his chair, jaw working languidly at the gunk in his mouth.

"Yeah, but this one's a bit different." The major replies, taking a cigar from his pocket and lighting it.

"Different? How?" Hawkins frowns, cokcing his head to the side.

Dutch takes a deep breath of smoke from the cigar, sitting back in his seat.

"An old friend from the army got in touch. Says he needs us for a rescue op."

"Friend from the army? Who?" I inquire, lifting an eyebrow.

"Old commander of mine." Dutch replies dismissively, barely sparing me a glance.

"Ok, where is the job?" Poncho asks, my brother shooting me a knowing look, his eyes flicking up as Mac walks in again, seven beers cradled in his arms.

"What job?" He asks as he places the bottles down on the table, looking round at us all.

"Dutch got us another op." Blain grunts, reaching out to take his beer, spitting the contents of his mouth out into the ashtray on the table. Hawkins, Poncho and I pull faces at that, but don't say anything.

"Another one? We only just got back!" Mac exclaims, taking a seat across from Hawkins, taking a sip from his beer.

"Perks of the job." Dutch shrugs, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Will you at least tell us what it is?" I can't keep the impatience from my voice, finding his vagueness irritating.

"I'm getting to it, (Y/n), calm down." He rolls his eyes, "It's in central America, somewhere in the jungle. Phillips was cagey about where exactly, but he said it's got something to do with guerrillas and hostages. We're supposed to get the hostages out of there."

"Sounds simple enough." Billy muses, rubbing his chin.

"When is it?" Poncho chips in, watching the major closely.

Dutch is quiet for a minute, his eyes flicking over us all, before he finally responds.

"It's tomorrow."

I nearly choke on my beer, spluttering as I sit upright in my chair.

"Tomorrow? Are you insane?!" I burst out, annoyed, "We got back from Afghanistan at the ass-crack of dawn today, and you want us to fly off to the jungle at the same time tomorrow? You trying to kill us or what?"

The others nod in agreement, murmuring their own complaints, only to shut up when Dutch turns a venomous glare on me.

"You know, if you spent half the energy you do on complaining on growing, you wouldn't look like a damn child anymore, (Y/n). Would make taking jobs a lot easier - means I don't have to explain why we've only got six and half mercs with us." He snaps, voice laced with anger, "I'm not insane, just practical. We all need more money, and the work is low at the moment. You'd know that if you weren't off lounging at home all day, letting us do the hard planning and prep work."

Silence descends on us all, my jaw dropping at the vehemence behind his words. No one speaks, letting the two of us stare at each other in hatred, my expression swiftly creasing into fury, every muscle in my body going tense.

Another moment passes, before I suddenly stand from the table, slamming my bottle on the table as I stalk past, heading straight out the door. Poncho tries to stop me, calling out to me, but I ignore him, practically seething as I leave the bar and stride to the car my brother and I came in. Unlocking it, I climb in and slam the door, buckling myself into the driver's seat as I throw the car into drive, pulling out onto the road. 

Furious, I drive way over the speed limit, weaving in and out of the traffic with no regard for my own safety as I careen down the highway. Screeching horns and tyres follow me as I go, but I ignore them, focusing instead on getting home, filled with anger now as Dutch's words play over and over in my head. 

It doesn't take long for me to pull up in the drive of my house, the car skidding on the loose gravel as I harshly jerk the handbrake into place, unbuckling myself before I climb out, making my way over to the door. Opening it, I go in and head straight to the bathroom, intending to take a shower to cool me down, knowing I need to calm down. I strip down quickly, quickly getting under the cold water with my fists clenched at my sides for a while, until I start to massage myself with my fingers, working out the knots in my muscles. It's pleasant, but I can still feel the anger burning in my system, so I swiftly leave again, wrapping myself in a towel. 

As I leave the bathroom, I hear a car pull up in the drive, the tyres crunching loudly on the gravel, announcing the newcomer's arrival. I dismiss it, chalking it up to it being Poncho, come to check up on me as the door downstairs opens, then closes, footsteps sounding in the hall as the person checks for me. The sounds are heavier than I thought they would be, and the identity of the person soon dawns on me.

Immediately, I feel the anger start racing through me again, my face creasing into a scowl until I force myself to calm down, at which point I turn and storm up to my bedroom. Going in, I start to rummage through my wardrobe, looking for some new clothes, trying to bite back the irritation rising in me as I hear the footsteps getting closer, the heavy boots not even halting as they reach the door. Within seconds, the wooden structure has been flung open, an angry mercenary standing in the space behind it.

"Ever learn to knock?" I snap at him as soon as I turn around, glaring at Dutch as he looms in the doorway, "Nevermind, you never learned manners period."

"Says the person who just stormed out of a bar." He scoffs, sneering at me as he steps into the room, "Talk about table manners."

"And whose fault is it I stormed out in the first place?" I glower at him, holding my towel in place as he continues forward, the glint in his eyes sparking a blazing heat inside me.

"Oh, so now it's my fault you can't take a joke?" Dutch jabs his finger at his chest before pointing it at me, brow furrowed in anger.

"You have a pretty poor idea of a joke, asshole." I spit back, lifting my finger up in his face as we step closer together, less than a foot away from each other now.

"You're the only one who thinks so, short-ass." He glares down at me, making me all too aware of how he towers over me.

Swallowing tightly, I shift uncomfortably.

"Sure about that? I can't be the only one who thinks your height jokes are getting old." I reply venomously, jabbing my finger at his chest.

He laughs humorlessly.

"Oh, but we both remember a time when you used to love playing into your shortness." His voice drops an octave, eyes boring into me, "I had you on your knees more than once with only standing over you. Remember?"

A flare of lust goes through me at the reminder, flashes of him looming over me as he pounded his cock harder and harder into my waiting mouth coming, unbidden, to mind. I'd always liked the sight of his muscular body above mine, as well as the feelings of his large hands wrapped around me, even if it was simply to hold my head still whilst he fucked it. 

"That was months ago." I hiss back at him, barely able to look up at him - if I do, it'll be too much like the memories in my head and I'll give in to the urges of my body. Already I can feel arousal pooling in my panties, my cheeks flushing as I realise this.

"Old habits die hard." Dutch growls, before swiftly reaching out to tear the towel away, exposing me to him. Before I can protest, however, he's taken hold of me and lifted me against the wall, pinning me roughly in place with his body, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. His lips crash into mine, a mess of teeth and tongues ensuing as we kiss like we used to, wet sounds filling the air as we press closer and closer together. Soft sounds of need escape me, but they're swallowed by the ravenous major above me, who licks and nips at my lips, a few grunts leaving him as he does so. 

Moving to pull him closer, I moan loudly as Dutch jerks his hips into mine, using them to hold me in place, his arousal pressing at my clit through his trousers. I have to bite back whines at the feeling of the rough fabric against my unprotected clit, my slick soon covering the crotch of his jeans as he rolls his hips into me. One of his hands moves to palm roughly at my breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between two calloused fingers, his other hand grasping my ass, which he squeezes tightly. Whimpering into his mouth, I take my nails down his back, grinding my sensitive clit down onto him, enjoying the waves of pleasure emanating from the stimulation. 

Months and months of pent up lust pour through the kiss, only breaking as Dutch pulls back to yank his shirt off, revealing his muscular yet scarred torso to me. Instantly, I go to lick and kiss at the toned muscles, only to yelp indignantly as he takes hold of my hair and jerks my head back, growling as he fastens our lips together again. He presses closer, crushing me against the wall with his huge body, grinding his arousal into me with vigour, only to suddenly pull away, keeping me in his arms. In seconds, Dutch has thrown me on the bed, standing at the end with his hands on his belt. 

Biting my lip, I eagerly move to help him, but he pushes me back down roughly, wasting no time in pulling his trousers and underwear down, revealing his leaking cock to the air. I moan at the familiar sight of it, eyeing up the veined length keenly, following it from the base to the reddened tip, watching as precum beads there. 

Dutch doesn't give me long to admire him, climbing over me and pressing himself against me as soon as he's exposed, his lips moving to my neck. He leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake, biting at sensitive points as he goes, licking over them briefly each time to soothe them, every movement extracting a needy whine from me. One of his hands moves down to his cock, which he takes hold of and runs through my slick folds, coating the tip generously as he supplies pleasure to me. With every pass over my clit, I moan and rock up into him, clutching at his back. 

"Fuck me, Dutch. Show me how much bigger you are." I moan out, wrapping my legs around his waist.

As he hears my words, however, Dutch growls, leaning back, making my legs fall from where they were. I whine at the lack of contact until he rolls me onto my front, grabbing hold of my ass to knead and grope. 

"I'll show you alright." He practically snarls in my ear as he bends back over me, moulding his huge body to my smaller frame, hands jerking my ass into his hips. He grinds himself into me for a moment, building my pleasure further as he bites at the back of my neck, sending bolts of electricity through me, which I respond to by rocking back onto him. 

With a final grunt, Dutch lines himself up with my hole, surging forwards into me in one stroke, stretching me out as he goes. A half-scream leaves my throat as I feel his cock slide over every sensitive spot inside me, my walls clenching deliciously around him, every vein rubbing against me. He gives me no time to adjust, pulling out entirely before slamming back into me, setting a hard, fast pace that has me seeing stars in no time. Ecstasy races through me, a knot tightening swiftly in my abdomen at the feeling of his thick cock pounding into me. 

Dutch straightens after a moment, taking my hip in one hand whilst he presses my face into the bed with the other, using me as leverage to shove his cock as far into me as he can go, grunting and groaning behind me in pleasure and need. Under his grip, I feel totally immobile, but the thought of him using me to work out his anger sends me reeling, my walls clenching tightly around him, tearing a moan from his lips. His name falls from my own, almost like a mantra as he slams into me, sending bolts of pleasure through me, bringing me closer and closer to what I really want. 

"So close, Dutch...keep going, oh fuck, you're so good…" I moan out, my words muffled slightly by the bed, though they are audible enough for him.

A whine of displeasure echoes from my chest as he suddenly pulls out, my pussy throbbing at the loss. He doesn't wait long, though, rolling me back onto my back before he hikes my legs up onto his shoulders, thrusting roughly back into me. With the new angle, whole other waves of pleasure ripple through me, his cock hitting the very spot that brings me crashing towards an orgasm. The sound of skin slapping together fills the room, along with obscenely wet noises and moans from the two of us, both too caught up in the moment to care about what comes after.

"You're getting tighter, (Y/n)...gonna cum for me, are you?" Dutch groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as my pleasure rapidly builds, "Come on, (Y/n), cum for me!"

With a final scream of ecstasy, the tension inside me snaps and I cum, hard, my walls clenching like a vice around him. White light blinds me, everything disappearing around me as the pleasure floods through me in a great torrent, rendering me incapable of moving momentarily. 

Vaguely, I feel Dutch pound into me a few more times before he pulls out and cums over my stomach, letting out a roar of satisfaction at the sensation, his hand wrapped around himself, jerking his cock desperately. Breathing heavily, he milks himself dry before he slumps over me, smearing the sticky substance between us, the two of us left breathless in the throes of our pleasure. 

"Still as good as I remember." He hums, rolling off of me to lie beside me.

"Could say the same thing." I sigh, trailing a finger through his cooling cum, grimacing at the sight of it.

Groaning, I heave myself up, taking the towel up from the floor.

"Where are you going?" Dutch asks, still lounging on the bed.

"Shower. You should, too." I inform him, moving to leave, only to stop still as the door swings open.

"(Y/n)? Who are you- oh." Poncho blushes a deep red, grimacing as he swiftly ducks back out of the room. 

"Oh shit…" I groan, putting my head in my hands, unable to bite back a small smile.

With just grins, leaning back on his hands.

"Oops."

-

Tag list: @nightime-luna-fairy

[holykillercake]

Sweet Doctor

TRAFALGAR LAW  X  f. READER

word count: 1.4k

highlight:  ¨Law doesn't think it's fair that he does all the hard work and people thank God.¨

notes: Very first one shot! Gimme your thoughts and requests, folks!

¨Thank God my shift is over! That was insane!¨ the blonde man threw himself on the couch of the break room covering his eyes with his arm.

¨You don't get me started with this too, Marco-ya.¨ the grumpy doctor sitting close to you mumbled, sipping his ¨please I need help with my addiction¨ sized coffee.

¨Y/N, do you mind explaining? I'm too tired to think.¨ you laughed at Marco's request.

¨Law doesn't think it's fair that he does all the hard work and people thank God.¨ you explained. Even after all those years you still couldn't believe he was for real when he said this.

¨Uhm, whatever, yoi. I blame you, Y/N.¨

¨Wha- wait! How come you blame me?¨ you asked confused and outraged.

¨One of your residents said the Q word while I was on call! I did so many chest compressions I'm skipping gym tomorrow!¨

You couldn't help but laugh at his drama and even Law seemed slightly amused.

¨Maybe you're just getting weak, Marco-ya.¨ he said and dodged a pillow thrown by his friend, you let out an 'ouch' and laughed more. ¨But he's right, Y/N-ya. This is a basic concept, how disappointing.¨ he clicked his tongue and shook his head, those tired grey eyes fixed on yours.

You and Law have known each other for a really long time now. First, you entered the same college and during those years you fought each other for the best grades. It became a little difficult since you always scored the perfect A+. You couldn't convince the professors to give extra pluses for the better answers, though.

After college you both were accepted in the best hospital of the country, you went through residency together, and your rivalry turned into a strong bond.

¨Maybe you should apologize to God, Law,  cause you're meeting him soon.¨ you kept staring at each other with narrowed eyes.

¨Let me know if you're gonna start making out so I can kill myself, yoi.¨ Marco said half-asleep.

¨We'll make it on your dead body.¨ you almost choked on your coffee when Law said it so casually.

He held a smirk while you coughed and slapped him gently on the arm. Your cheeks were so hot you could fry eggs on them.

¨You're so disgusting, yoi.¨ he stood up lazily and dragged himself around the room, gathering his stuff ¨I'm going home. No, better, I'm asking for my resignation!¨ he came closer and placed a kiss on the top of your head, a habit that you grew fond of. You'd always muffle his fluffy blonde hair.

¨Keys.¨ you opened your hand waiting for him to give you his car keys. You never let him drive whenever he was tired like this, last time ended up in a mess. ¨We'll miss you when you're gone.¨

¨I won't.¨ Law kept giving him a hard time.

¨Yeah, keep lying to yourself, punk.¨ Marco patted him on the shoulder on his way out ¨And quit drinking that shit, yoi!¨

The room got quiet after the blond left leaving you and Law in a comfortable silence. That was what you loved the most about him, he always made you comfortable.

After a few minutes of you peacefully rolling through your phone and Law deeply entertained with a medical book, the two of you heard a shy knock on the door.

You shared a look, knowing that it was one of your residents. After all, attendings didn't knock before coming in and the other staff would just beep you.

¨I bet one of yours killed someone.¨ he smiled and raised an eyebrow.

Those moments were precious to you, the way he let himself be relaxed in your presence to do stuff like smiling or even telling some stupid joke. Although you could count in three fingers how many times he had done it.

¨I hope it was Shachi.¨ you teased him and went to get the door.

When you open you saw a girl, you didn't know her name but you knew that she was one of Law's residents. She had her hands behind her back and she seemed jittery.

¨What did Shachi do?¨ you ask her, trying to break the ice.

¨Uh? Uhm, no! No, he didn't... Uhm-¨ she stumbled on her words and you felt a little sorry for her. You tried to be friendly and nice but it didn't work really well.

¨Do you need something, Ikkaku-ya?¨ Law appeared behind you, stepping in since it was one of his. You made your way back to the table, giving them some privacy.

¨Uhm, Dr. Trafalgar, I'm sorry to bother you, but.. uhm...¨ she sounded so nervous and you knew exactly why.

You were pretty aware that Doctor Trafalgar D. Water Law did more than just fix hearts, he stole them. Numerous times you've had old ladies insisting that they were having heart attacks so they could see him. The younger ones were more discreet, though. Not that it'd bother you if they weren't.

¨Dr. Trafalgar I wanted to give you this!¨ she yelled, but maybe not aware of it, you saw how much she struggled to say that.

The girl had a little paper bag in her hands, you saw by the logo printed on the front that it was from a bakery near the hospital, they were famous for the croissants.

¨Oh, poor thing.¨ you thought.

Law seemed pretty confused now. Why was she giving him that? And why that?

You decided to step in and help before you cringed to death. Was that how Marco felt? Poor Pinneaple.

¨I love that place. Which one did you choose?¨ you spoke from the table, trying not to laugh at their helpless expressions.

¨T-The traditional one, with a sugar glaze.¨ she was so red, but at least she could say words now.

¨That's the best one, good choice!¨ she smiled at you ¨I wish my residents bought me stuff too, you got the good ones, Law. ¨

You called him, fishing him out of the ¨need to find a scientific answer for this strange human behavior¨ void in his head. His gaze met yours and you had a telepathic conversation.

< The fuck you're doing? The ¨ignore until she flounders and dies¨ technique?>

<Why is she giving me bread?>

<It doesn't matter! Just accept it and thank her!>

¨Ah, Ikkaku-ya, you didn't have to. But I really appreciate it.¨ You wanted to give yourself a face slap.

¨When you say things like ¨really appreciate it¨, you have to sound like you appreciate it, Law.¨ you thought again.

¨They are fresh from the oven!¨ the girl said cheerful ¨I hope you like it! See you later Dr. Trafalgar! Bye, Dr. L/N!¨ she waved at you before leaving, skipping down the hallway.

You let the laugh you were holding out while the raven-haired man made his way back to the table. He sighed and placed the bag on the corner.

¨She's going to ask later, you know?¨ you pointed at the pastry.

¨You know I don't like it, Y/N-ya.¨ he mumbled like a man-child ¨You can eat it and tell me if it's good.¨

¨I already had and I will, thanks.¨ you grabbed the croissant and began to eat it, internally blessing the baker's soul.

Suddenly, Law found really difficult to focus on his book while you were eating. Maybe he never noticed before or maybe you never ate something so good but the suggestive sounds that came out of you made him get tighter in his pants.

¨Actually, Y/N-ya... I want to taste it.¨ you couldn't believe this guy.

¨Now that I ate half of it?¨ you asked after swallowing your huge bite.

¨It doesn't matter, I'm pretty sure they taste better on your lips.¨

Before you could process his words, he leaned closer and found his way to your mouth, kissing you in a way he never did inside of the hospital.

His hands traveled on your body with an urge, stopping on your waist and bringing you closer to him. Your hands ran through his dark hair as he explored the sweet taste of your mouth.

You had to break the kiss to breathe, your chest was going up and down heavily and your mind was still resetting from his sudden action.

¨Sweet.¨ he licked his lower lip, his eyes exalting lust and passion.

¨I thought you said PDA inside the hospital was unethical?¨ you asked panting.

¨It's just that... you made it look so good I needed to try.¨ he said before kissing you again.

[pseudofaux]

I'm partially embarrassed to request this hence the anonymity but I couldn't pass up asking for Ikevamp Charles abs body worship? Either or him doing the action to or reader to him. Actually reader granting Charles some sexy under table worship while seated at dinner sounds hot. Faust and Vlad get so much love he gets left behind I feel like. If you don't know his characterization well it's ok. I'll probably write something hot myself when my sexy imagination kicks in. Which oh boy I think it has. Love ya lots Pseu! You're writing is impeccable as always. :)

Ohhhhhhh, this is a really good idea and I think you are right on all counts! Originally I was going to have him seated with someone and open this with the other person (Faust?) asking “Where is she?” (🥵), but I think Mssr. Sanson could reeeeally benefit from some words during worship, so this is just the two of them. Please enjoy! And I hope when you write what you are inspired to that it makes you really happy. Or that it already did!❣️

(Requests are closed, readers, but there are a lot to be filled in May and likely June, too! Feel free to follow along or just check in and enjoy as many as you like. A masterlist will go up when they are all completed.)

The castle’s dining chairs are upholstered with silk, because... well, what else would be in Vlad’s beautiful home? That silk is fitted over very fine, full stuffing, and the arms are carved wood, dark and polished. The waxy scent of the polish gets in Charles-Henri’s nostrils in this place. He doesn’t mind it, but he is surprised how unavoidable it can be, even over her perfume. Even over what she is doing to him.

Which is, carefully and reverently, making him insane.

Her pretty skirt is spread out over her knees and the floor like a tent, the circle of it impeded only by the legs of his chair. And her mouth is on him and murmuring endless love. Her words might be silly if anyone were to write them down, but it’s like she took them right out of the darkest, loneliest places of his brain, and she doesn’t trip over them, so he is under her spell and her lips, and he does not want to get away.

“You’re delicious,” she says, so sweetly he laughs.

“You can’t taste me the way I can taste you,” he reminds her. She just hums like she is at the top of the food chain and fondles his balls like she is on the lowest rung of society. He shivers, not for the first time.

“You are,” she insists, sucking a tiny kiss onto his hip, “Delicious.”

“Whatever you say,” he mumbles, so pleased he is jittery. His soul knows and fears that any moment this attention could be snatched away, and he wants it but he can’t depend on it...

“So smooth,” she whispers, her harmless fingernails scraping down what she can reach of the inside of his legs. She knelt there a few moments ago and opened the front of his trousers like it was nothing, and she has been touching him and mouthing him and speaking to him ever since. Charles doesn’t know why this is happening (Did Vlad order her to do this, as some kind of reward for him?), and he won’t rely on it, but he is enjoying it. The way he bobs beside her cheek is proof enough of that.

Surely she feels it? She is gripping him.

“This part,” she whispers, squeezing him and beginning to tug, release, stroke with a practiced touch, “This is so wonderful. The things you do to me with it. I’m so happy I can do things to you, too.”

His fingers drum on the table like he’s playing a sonata. “You can’t,” he says. It’s weak. He’s weak. “You don’t have the power... to do anything.”

She chuckles from the place in her throat he wants to touch when he comes. And maybe she will let him, since she seems to be pulling all the things he wants out of his head tonight, here in this empty dining room. Even if he couldn’t feel all her kisses-- and he can-- he can hear them.

“It’s perfect. You are perfect, Charles-Henri,” she says. She kisses the tip of him and her lips come away sticky. She gives it right back to him when she mouths all her praises all over again down his length. “Smooth... so handsome... so very strong... delicious.” She breathes in through her nose, tucked down by his groin, and it’s such a deep inhale that it tickles him and makes him feel like she is trying to take him in every way she can. Does the hair above his cock tickle her nose? She doesn’t flinch.

“I like the way you smell,” she says as she sighs out the breath. It’s hot and damp against his already-agitated skin. Dreamily, she adds “But I love the way you feel. Want you in my mouth.”

What can he say to that? He’s not afraid of her, there’s nothing she can even do to him, but what she is doing to him... if she stops, he feels like his mind will break, and not in clean slice but in a terrible rendering with tears and uneven edges. This entire situation is so dangerous, it’s dark and lusty and makes him feel so good he doesn’t feel safe trusting it. But he can play along. He can always play along.

“Take me in your mouth, then,” he says. He wants it to be dry, but his eagerness bleeds out of him like the juice of an overripe squeezed fruit and makes it sound like a challenge, like he’s not just playing along over her head but playing with her. Thankfully, she takes the challenge, her wet mouth opening around him and sliding down like she is determined to play, too.

He puts his head back against the dark, polished wood of the back of the chair and groans at the feel of her on him. Can love exist in a mouth that is not speaking? Can he shove himself into the deepest part of her throat? Has she ever done this before? His mind is all questions and sensation, centered on how she sucks at him as she pulls back.

Her hum is accompanied by a slight sway. It looks like she is dancing, sinuous. Seductive.

Charles slides his hands off the table, smoother than a snake, and puts them in her hair. “Is that all you wanted?” he whispers to her. She shakes her head with a closed-mouth smile. “Then have more,” he hisses, and pulls her close. He doesn’t even touch the seam of her lips because she opens for him so readily, and that thought and her plush tongue make him groan again. He pulls her (and she goes, easily) all the way down, until her body rebels and convulses around him, then he pulls her back. “More?” he asks. “More of that?”

He is not prepared for the way she rasps a needy yes, or for the way his hands have to chase her head as she goes back to her work. When she pulls away her spit clings to him and it is thick with his early seed, a glimmer in the dimness of the room. “I always want more of you,” she promises before she goes right back down. And as she moves her head down his length and pulls off with wet pops and smacks, she keeps talking, keeps saying so many of the things he’s been wanting to hear. Not needing. Only wanting. but he has been wanting.

She swears under her breath, and slurps, and calls him manly. The base of each of her palms finds the front of hips and holds him tight while she moans on him. “I love this,” she tells him. “I love you.”

It shoots through him like a downfall of arrows. He should be cut open but he only shudders and tries to figure out how to urge her on without betraying how badly he wants her to keep going. Shouldn’t she know, isn’t that why she is doing this?

“Wish I could just stay here,” she sighs before taking him wet and deep. She makes some noise that feels like a gargle around him, like his cock is in a mineral spring, and his cum soaks her windpipe and her mouth as she slowly pulls back without a single cough. He would miss it if he did not feel quite so euphoric from all her words. They might be dangerous, but that’s because they were so good.

“Delicious,” she whispers with a wet, white smile. The pink of her tongue is paler under the coat of cream she seems so proud of. He stares, unwilling to blink, as she slowly moves it over her lips. When she is done she hums like she has just had a wonderful meal, though he was the only one at the table with a plate. Even if it was for show.

Her gasp when he hauls her up and throws her onto the pillow of her skirts on the table is really all he needs to live, he thinks. He takes her on the table and keeps his ear right by her mouth and his mouth right by her ear, so he can murmur all the possessive filth she’s risen to his surface like floodwaters. And catch everything she might say, too. Just in case she says anything else as he’s pounding her into the dark polished wood, pushing the scent of wax into her skin.

“You like me,” he chants several times. “Delicious.” Her earlobe has no taste of its own, but it is the most wonderful texture in his delicate bite. Some day soon he’ll give her the holes for several new earrings, he thinks. But for now he’ll fuck into her all the things he’s not going to say, because for now he is just playing along. He can always play along. Or so he tells himself.

[yolkyeomie]

[blurb] — member: minho, word count: 2489, genre: e2l-esque/rockband au/female!reader/angst(?), warning: none.

note: this is a wildly out of character verison of minho so none of this is probably accurate to his actual personality. I was just tired one hand and this is how I saved myself

[11:30 pm]: “Lee Minho!” You growled. Despite the bustling energy of the dressing room before you had entered, your voice boomed over every single person within the walls limits. Those who were speaking quickly closed their mouths and others who were walking in and out slowed their hasty pace to a creeping stalk. Their eyes turned from each other to you as you stood in the doorway, hand clenched tightly around the door knob in an attempt to keep yourself calm.

Everyone could tell just by taking one glance at you that you were not here to play around as usual. The energy you exude was far too intense for anyone to even crack a smile at you. “Where is he?” You demanded, glancing around the room for the sly cat. “Where is Minho?”

“Here,” a cheery voice informed, nearly giving yourself whiplash as you turned around. There he stood right behind you, his signature black bass guitar slung over his shoulders and his mocking smile plastered against his face. Behind him stood his bandmates nervously glancing between the two of you, unsure of what exactly was going to happen next.

This scenario was something they had seen countless times before yet they still would never get used to the sight of you breathing smoke out of your nose and Minho only looking down on you with endearment. Your anger was entertaining to him, no matter how many times the out of you spat with each other.

“What? Is there something wrong?” He asked, his statement covering for his blatant ignorance, “did you not like the concert? But you had the best seat in the house?”

His condescending words easily began to fan the flame, eagerly watching as your face flickered from a look of pure bewilderment to complete wrath.

You knew Minho was doing this on purpose, yet you couldn’t resist the urge to explode. “Was there something wrong?” You questioned him, reaching out and grabbing the sterling silver chain that hung down his neck. Gasps fluttered throughout the room at your threatening demeanor as you spoke, “You really have the audacity to be asking that right now?”

“Hey, not here,” Changbin interrupted, “Not while everyone is watching. Don’t want a video of your fight to get leaked, do you?” He used his drumsticks to separate the two of you from each other, providing himself as the unprompted middle ground as he gestured toward the staff in the room.

Usually he would be all for watching you rip into Minho without a second thought, but there were too many people around to let it go unchecked. As much as he believed that the bassist deserved every inch of karma that was going to hit him, it couldn’t happen in public. They had a reputation to uphold after all.

The two of you looked around the room for yourselves, taking note of how the entire backstage room was crawling with staff members from the concert the group had held. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you would rather not be labeled as the crazy person that barged in and caused a fight.

Begrudgingly you stepped back and away from Minho, just enough for it not to look like you weren’t going to attack him like some rabid animal. “Fine, I won’t.”

“Take it outside, somewhere private would be ideal,” Bang Chan added, whispering as lowly as possible so that any of the more... invading staff couldn’t catch him. “Oh, and don’t do anything stupid? Please? I kinda need Minho alive.”

“You heard the man,” The boy taunted, gesturing back to the band’s leader. “He needs me alive, so keep your hands to yourself this time.”

You didn’t think you could roll your eyes as hard as you did, forcing your hands to your side so that you didn’t actually harm him. The whispers and murmurs only continued to go as you led Minho outside of the dressing room, their voices drifting to your ears despite their attempts to conceal them.

“Is she some crazy fan?” “No, I heard she knows the boys personally.”

“Should we call security? What if she actually harms him!”

“I wonder what Minho did for her to act that way? Honestly, I couldn’t blame her… he’s a little patronizing and stuck up in my opinion…”

You shook off their words as the two of you walked down the corridor of the dressing rooms in silence, a stark contrast to the other staff members who were running about the halls to clean up the aftermath of the band’s concert. Every so often someone would stop to greet the two of you and ask what was going on, the sheer intensity of your auras combined quickly made them back off.

You were always the more approachable of the two but this wasn’t the right time for any of that to happen.

Soon the crowd began to thin out and for the most part, the two of you were left completely alone. The corridor you had turned down was practically a dead end so it was the perfect place for you to antagonize the bassist without running away.

“You said you’d help me with Hyunjin, to get back together with him,” you began, turning your sharp and annoyed gaze on him once again. “You said you’d get me tickets to your concert because I mentioned he was a fan of the band, so what was with that stunt you pulled on stage at the end?”

“I don’t think I understand?” The boy questioned, leaning up against the wall as he continued to feign ignorance like he had done in the dressing room with the staff. “I did exactly what you asked me to. I got you tickets, I got you the best seats in the house, I even got the other members to put his favorite song on the set list for this concert? What could have possibly gone wrong?”

“That song!” You exclaimed, “that dumb song you had created on your own but never released it for the band to play because it was about me. You played it right before the concert ended as the encore. Are you insane, seriously?”

Minho snorted at your frustration, clearly not taking the situation as serious as you were. “Are you serious? You’re mad because I played that love song without telling you? Come on Y/N, you really think he was able to tell that it was about you?”

You scoffed, almost laughing at his answer. A love song? You wouldn’t exactly label the song as a “love song”. “I understand you don’t think very highly of Hyunjin, but he knew Minho. There was no way he wouldn’t have been able to tell.”

It was so clear that Minho knew exactly what he was doing when he was on stage. As the band got ready to play their original encore song, you had caught him skipping around to stage to each member of the band. Starting discreetly with Changbin since he was the drummer in the background all the way to whispering to the lead guitarist, Jisung, near the front of the stage.

Once his words had finally reached the ears of Bang Chan, the leader gave a skeptical glance before his eyes connected to your curious one’s. He hesitated for a moment before putting on a strained smile and speaking into the microphone.

There’s been a slight change of plans in the encore, Bang Chan had announced. The entire crowd let out a wave of confusion as his dimples distracted their fans from his clear distress. I mean, who doesn’t like an unreleased song as the ending note?

The crowd let out a cheer for the change, not bothered one bit by the band switching gears to do something off script. Even Hyunjin was excited to hear the song that even he hadn’t known existed. Though both his wide smile quickly fell once the song began to play, its piercing and strong melody rang through the stadium as Minho strummed his guitar.

Minho had the most lines out of the other members of the band in that song, which was a stark contrast to his usual in the background singing. The boy was standing front and center, hands no longer glued to his guitar but clutching onto the microphone that stood before him. His voice boomed over the speakers as he sang to the crowd, yet his attention wasn’t on his adoring fans that were calling his name.

No, his attention was on you.

Minho’s eyes almost never left your figure as he zeroed you out in the crowd, his prideful smile growing on his lips as he poured his soul into the lyrics he never thought he’d sing in person. It was like he was sending a signal to you and Hyunjin, that the bond that you were trying to rekindle between the two of you would never work out in the end.

You’re mine, Minho’s lyrics conveyed, a meaning only you and Hyunjin could decipher, and I’ll never let you go to him.

“You can’t keep… you can’t keep doing this,” you struggled to convince him (or maybe you were trying to convince yourself?). “You can’t keep trying to interfere with my relationships! I’m my own person, Minho, I like other people! You can’t keep going on like this.”

“I can’t keep going on like this?” He repeated, in shock that you would even have the audacity to say that to him. Minho pushed himself off the wall as he approached you, his stereotypical vile temperament that his staff deemed him as showing through his usual cool head. “I’m not the one who keeps running back to the same person whose heart I broke every time we have a fight!”

Ouch, what a low blow. But it wasn’t like Minho was… lying? As much as you wanted to deny it, every time the two of you got into it you’d go running to Hyunjin afterward.

You needed something different from the constant fire and ice of you and the bassist's quarrels and that was exactly what Hyunjin was. He wasn’t the sheer cold of the winter storm like Minho was, just a pleasant breeze along a hot summer day. That’s why you were so drawn to him at first, that’s why you had jumped head first into a relationship with him, and that’s why you couldn’t exactly let go of him after you had broken up.

So despite Hyunjin being the better of the two, why was it that you only ran to him for comfort? As soon as he had given you what you desired you were back to trailing behind the band’s footsteps. You were back to walking and fighting with Minho.

“Do you really like him?” Minho asked, his tone a little harsher than he planned. Though he didn’t apologize for the attitude as he continued to speak, “Do you really want to be with Hyunjin again or is this an excuse to keep playing with me?”

“It’s…,” you hesitated, why must he ask this up now of all times? “It’s complicated, Minho! Not only that but it’s none of your business to pry into my relationship with Hyunjin? You’ve already done enough damage—”

“Y/N, tell me before I figure it out in a way you aren’t going to like,” he blurted out, finally snagging the words out of your mouth for good. What did he just say? “Do you really still like Hyunjin? Or are you just using him at this point, because it really feels like the latter when you keep hanging around me and not him.”

You stared back at him wide eyed, struggling to form sentences in your head and deciding to spit out whatever you could. “What are you talking about? You mean like use him to make you jealous of something? That’s petty, Minho, I—“

“One,” he began, reaching for the guitar strap on his shoulders to discard the instrument.

“How I feel about Hyunjin is none of your business,” you tried to argue. “See you’re even doing it again! Trying to force your way through when things don’t go your way. I’m supposed to be the one who is asking for answers anyway!”

“Two,” Minho continued, ignoring your rambling as he dropped the bass onto the ground without care.

“Fine, I like him. I’m in love with Hyunjin, are you happy now?” You answer, though the words feel foreign on your tongue as you bite at him. “This fights and bickering we do mean nothing to me, your stupid encore song meant absolutely nothing to me. So stop trying to press forward already.”

Minho stood in front of you quietly, his face contorting in disapproval as he tried to process your answer. “You’re so good at fighting with me but you’re so bad at lying.” He shook his head, amused disbelief donning his face as he took a hold of your shirt collar in the same motion you took his chain necklace. “Three.”

“Why are you intent on this, hm? You don’t like being the one who is toyed with instead of the other way around?” You hissed, snatching his hand off of your shirt with as much strength as you could muster. “All you do is take, take, and humiliate. Get a grip, Minho.”

The boy hesitated for a moment, hovering just inches above your face and his eyes darting around the room. He should have known that you still would have the energy to argue with him, that never ending flame in your chest that kept lighting the cigarette of your relationship.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called, making you and Minho glance over your shoulder and down the corridor to spot a figure at the foot of it. You immediately recognized it to be the Hyunjin, the fool peering down curiously and a sheepish smile stretching across his face when he finally saw you. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I knew you were backstage. I just didn’t know how long you’d be here for. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, your tone immediately going soft as you shoved Minho off of you. The way you spoke to Minho and Hyunjin respectively was so different from each other, one would think that you were two separate people. “Just give me one moment?”

The boy nodded, giving an awkward wave toward Minho given the fact that the last time the two had interacted was the situation during the encore. Though the bassist gave no response as you turned back to him, your original rage replenished as you finally addressed him for the last time. “Don’t ever sing that song again. Not around me, not around your bandmates, not around your fans, no one. I want every bit of its existence erased from my memory.”

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part One

So this is a sequel to Place Your Bets. It's actually just the first part of a sequel because I'm trying to publish things in shorter segments. Time is valuable and I know it can be tricky to sit down and read through someone's 8,000-word opus.

That said, you will have to read Place Your Bets first or this isn't going to make any sense.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC with mentioned Jay White x OFC

Word count: 1,641

Content advisory: Brief sexual references, Jay being an emotionally abusive asshole

You’ve tried three or four times to reconcile the pay statement from New Japan with the list of expenses you submitted for Jay last week. They’re different. The check is lower than it should be and even though it’s not by a lot, this sort of thing drives Jay mental and he’s been in such a mood since you dared go on a date that you’re going to extraordinary lengths to try to pacify him.

If anything, you feel like making more of an effort is making him harder on you. He’s had you working practically around the clock, thinking nothing of waking you up in the middle of the night to demand you find some obscure record, or complaining that he doesn’t understand something. He’s demanded you reschedule every appointment you’ve made for him at least once, so that everyone who’s relying on you so that they can work with him has been screaming at you.

So you’re exhausted and anxious and you can’t figure out why you have a check that doesn’t match your invoice because the accounting department here codes everything differently, so the amounts per line are combined or split up in ways you don’t understand and you have to patch it back together. It’s impossible.

The thing is, you’ve done it before. The expense checks are screwed up 4 times out of 5 and it’s always a chore that takes you hours to resolve. You’ve done this when you’ve been travelling nonstop for a day, when Jay has been screaming at you for hours, and when you’ve been surviving on coffee and stubbornness. The difference now is that you’re distracted.

In the years you’ve had this job, you’ve never felt distracted this way. You keep replaying your night with Finlay in your mind and you catch yourself smiling like an idiot at the way your stomach flips. Despite the fact that Jay’s been keeping you on a tight leash, you’ve caught plenty of glimpses of David around the place. Sometimes, you’ll pass close enough that you catch a whiff of his soft amber-y cologne and your skin shivers. And you look. Jay isn’t interested enough in you to watch you closely enough to see what you’re doing as long as he knows he can order you around whenever he feels like it.

David looks back, too, with a sly smile or a wink. He actually has to be a little more cautious about it because Jay has been watching him since their New Japan Cup match, already fantasizing about revenge. But he has his techniques. He’ll glance over and lock eyes with Jay before letting them drift to you. The looks you exchange feel almost as intimate as when the two of you were naked in his bed together.

You’ve sent a couple of cryptic text messages back and forth but David’s perfectly aware that Jay will flip through your phone without even asking because he considers it his property. It’s killing you, always being in each other’s orbit and being unable to do anything about it. But more importantly, it’s distracting you from work.

You’re standing over the table, using a pencil to note where you think the things from your invoice have been entered on the payment statement when your breath catches. There’s that scent in the room with you, easing close behind you until you feel a strong pair of arms close around you.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he murmurs into your skin.

You exhale and let yourself melt into him, resting your hands over his as you incline your head back.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you breathe.

He holds you a little tighter.

“I have to go back to the States to do some Impact shows. I’ll be gone a few weeks.”

You whine quietly.

“I’m leaving tomorrow night.”

“It’s not fair.”

He hums and kisses his way up your neck, making your whole body tremble.

“Any chance you could sneak out tonight?”

“I’d like to see someone try and stop me.”

“The slave driver won’t be happy.”

“I cannot tell you how little I care right now.”

He loosens his hold and you take the opportunity to turn around, touching your lips to his as you’ve been longing to do for days. You peck at each other a few times, smiling, both of your eyes lit from within.

“I’m in room-“

“I know what room you’re in,” you grin.

“Are you stalking me?”

“Damn right I am.”

You give in to the urge to kiss a little more urgently until a noise at the door has you jumping apart like reversed magnets.

You’re terrified it’s Jay because you are in no way ready for that showdown. But it’s Sanada coming to get a drink from the vending machine. He cocks an eyebrow at the two of you, which is enough to let you know that he’s aware of the nature of what he’s interrupted.

It isn’t a problem, though. He doesn’t talk to Jay unless they have a match and even then it’s only going over the game plan. He’ll gossip to his LIJ buddies but it’ll stay within their tight little circle. They'd rather laugh at Jay behind his back.

When he leaves, David takes your hand and the two of you are smiling like teenagers again.

“Guess I should run away before we really get caught.”

You kiss him, fervently, and you’re hardly able to pull yourself away.

“I’ll text you when I know what time I can escape.”

You’re both blushing as he exits the room. When you turn around to face your payment problem, you could swear it’s gotten more complicated than it was before.

*

“I need you to reschedule that appointment with the physio guy to Thursday,” Jay grumbles.

He’s been hovering since he came in, although he hasn’t been quite as obstreperous as usual, muttering to himself or to his game console rather than outright trying to interrupt you. You could take your work to your room but then he would be texting and calling you all the time, assuming that you weren’t working if he couldn’t see it. You’re still trying to untangle the knots of the expense report and it’s tantalizingly close. You’ve gotten nearly this far a couple of times only to be forced to backtrack and re-evaluate but this time you can see your way through; just a couple of twists and tugs and you’ll have it all smoothed out.

You roll your eyes at the sound of Jay’s voice, content that he can’t see your face from his vantage point.

“We’ve been through this, Jay. This guy is a specialist they’ve brought in and his schedule’s been set by the company. No changes, no exceptions.”

“Well you need to ask, at least,” he huffs.

“Why? All it’s going to do is aggravate management and you won’t get what you ask for.” You pivot to face him. “Why would you even want to change it?”

“I have something I want to do on Wednesday, not that it’s any of your business. I’d rather see him on Thursday.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

You fully expect from the look on his face that he’s going to lose it and start screaming about how you’re just there to do what he says. But though his lips twitch and his nostrils flare. He says nothing. Perhaps this is it. Perhaps this is the week that he fires you and replaces you with someone new who’ll do everything he says and flatter his ego without the attitude you’re prone to giving him. A couple of times, he’s told you that you were fired in a rage, only to contact you hours later and start grumpily giving you orders again. He never apologizes when this happens but he’s always a little quieter and less belligerent for a few days.

This nonverbal fury is something new, so maybe it’s a sign that the end is nigh. Maybe you’ll suddenly find a way to reinvent yourself without Jay White in your life. Take a calligraphy class. Teach English at some private business school. Get a dog. Have a relationship with someone who could love you back.

With that in mind, you force yourself to work out the final parts of the project that’s haunted you all day. You’re so happy when it’s done, when you understand exactly what’s missing and what you need to tell them to have it corrected, that you want to stand up and cheer and pat yourself on the back because god knows that no one else will.

Normally, you’d email the head office right away and go through everything you’ve found in concise bullet points to make sure you’re understood but instead, you close your laptop and stand up.

“Right,” you say breezily, “I'm off then.”

“Off where?” he growls without looking at you. “Another date?”

“Actually, yes.”

“This is becoming a problem.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ve done everything that’s required of me. I’ve jumped through every insane hoop, dodged every trap you’ve given me. You know perfectly well that the fact that I’ve been… that I’ve… There is no issue with my work.”

“I say it’s becoming a problem and in this equation, I’m the only one who matters.”

His reflexive cruelty always hits you right in the stomach, like you’re in the ring with him, and knowing that you have someone who wants to be with you and wants to please you doesn’t dull that at all.

“I matter Jay,” you say quietly. “I just don’t matter to you.”

You see a muscle in his beck twitch but even though you give him a moment, he says nothing. And it’s a painful realization that the only reason you’re waiting is in the desperate hope that he’ll contradict you, that he’ll surprise you for once in his life.

[omegatheunknown]

AEW ALL OUT 2021

In which, not to get ahead of myself here, AEW puts on one of the best major wrestling shows in several years*, following the simple yet effective principle of giving the people what they want and sending everyone home happy and hungry for more.

- The incredibly 'Nitro' ending of the go-home Dynamite, which ran a little long on the 'heels beat everyone up and strut around like assholes almost too in desperate need of comeuppance' bit, short of garbage raining into the ring, did actually increase the heat for both promoted matches. Again, not rocket science, but executed perfectly. Catharsis was on the card, and catharsis went over several times Sunday. - Again, it's time to move on from the Casino theme, shuffling the deck and drawing suits really only detracted from the Battle Royale and seemingly always throws the production crew a curve. If they haven't hammered it by now, it's not going to happen. - Bit unhappy about the PAC/Andrade situation, but still over the moon with Andrade's promo style and Chavito being unhelpful at best.

*Pre-Card

Best Friends and Jurassic Express v The Hardy Family Office and The Hybrid 2 (**) - Not usually much to say about a loaded-up multiteam boondoggle, particularly when the show has yet to begin, but there were some moments worth sitting up to take notice -- there's a lot of talent in the ring, even if Jack Evans/Angelico aren't going to be more than mid-level mooks, little matchups with guys like Luchasaurus and Chuck Taylor are opportunities for innovative/weird spots. - Really this match exists to show-off Jungle Boy, play his theme song twice, and work him in to the aforementioned spots. I don't rightly know what Jungle Jack's ceiling is, but it sort of feels like he's plateauing, at least this version of himself. - Dan Lambert thing is interesting in that it doesn't seem to easily lead to something obvious... I mean who are Scorp and Ethan Page feuding with by proxy here, the concept of contemporary professional wrestling? Orange Cassidy and Kenny Omega?

*Main Card

Miro (C) v Eddie Kingston for the TNT Championship (***1/2) - 'Redeem Deez Nuts' T-shirts now available -- and made immediately redundant now that Miro has graciously redeemed Eddie's nuts. - Imagine looking at Miro, listening to Miro talk, and not really being able to figure out this guy is money. Also imagine panicking when he took a little while to find his groove in AEW. 'The Redeemer' is both entertaining and terrifying, and this match delivered heavily on the promise of two big fellas smacking together repeatedly. - Not only does Eddie's arsenal of power moves target Miro's neck, he may also be quite difficult to put in the full reclined camel clutch. Or he'd quite literally snap in half. It didn't come to that. - Weird heel turn by Bryce's attention span and the overall weirdness of the finish is all that kept this from being an excellent match, otherwise this was a tremendous curtain jerker and started off a dangerously fun run of pure adrenaline.

Jon Moxley v Satoshi Kojima (****) - The stakes were nebulous, the build was abrupt, yet this was a fantastic match and tremendous showcase for an underappreciated great who has been more or less just toiling for a bunch of years as a NJPW Dad. Same deal for Nagata, and I assume Tenzan is the same, Taka Michinoku even -- let's see it. - I have to assume the Cozy Lariat might have put Mox down, but Kojima otherwise played the hits (Koji Cutter, Piledriver, Brainbustaaaa) in a big way and Moxley once again proved he's become a very well-rounded wrestler who can match the intensity of just about any former IWGP champion. - More to the point-- KAZE NI NARE -- out of nowhere, too. Or out of nowhere to those not paying attention to the whereabouts of Minoru Suzuki (Right, he's just over here to fight Daniel Garcia and not Mox?), which I guess is to my own peril. Wow, though. Surprise Number 1- a complete surprise, and a welcome one. Let's have it.

Dr Britt Baker, DMD (C) v Kris Statlander for the AEW Women's Championship (****) - I love Kris and her best friends but she didn't have a prayer of dethroning Britt. She got one promo, several weeks ago, and though she did make a meal of Hayter and Rebel, the chase has been abrupt and not given much discussion, other than Mark Henry and whomever else acknowledging what is extremely evident -- Statlander is stronger than she looks, and she looks really strong. They've got her doing Cesaro-level 'modify your grip while holding your opponent's entire weight' nonsense, and it's amazing and scary. - Even with the reign of the good doctor not being credibly threatened, this was an excellent match that demonstrated the continued growth of the competitors in the women's division, even as it underlined that their storylines remain undercooked and perfunctory: Orange Cassidy whipping off his shades to urge Stat to get up was a beautiful moment. Britt's Panama Sunrise, also, too sweet. Statlander eating shit on her 451 and her pendulum moonsault was properly brutal, as were Britt's curb stomps. Really great match between these two. - Again, if they had bothered to write anything into this story, such as Kris' alien physiology making her immune to the lockjaw or something... actually, maybe that's a terrible idea. it's an idea. Undefeated challenger is defeated, on to the next for Dr Britt. Statlander and OC should tag against some of the boys.

The Young Bucks (C) v The Lucha Bros for the AEW World Tag Team Championship(*****+) - Can't not mention the insane entrance lined up for Fenix and Penta. It was bewildering, it was enchanting, it was aggressive, it was hype. It also reminded everybody how very badly we all wanted the Lucha Bros to win. The crowd has been setting new peaks with their volume since Punk showed up, but things were absolutely thunderous and ecstatic at the end of this match. Absolutely valid response. I yelled on the couch. - Nick's facial hair was a bigger tell that it was time for the Bucks to lose than anything else about this build. There's literally nowhere to go from there -- they've done the hair, the bandanas, the kicks, the animal print, the dangly earrings -- peak visual heel for this time and place. - Sincerely thought this was going to be too much of a full sprint spot-fest (the PWG-esque circle of trading blows is not really 'my thing') but even so they kept finding gears, and ramping and ramping and adding blood and brutality along the way. Even a bit of levity, with the tacked up sneaker, followed by the sincerity of Penta throwing himself in harm's way to protect his brother. Immense match, I think you'd have to go back to the Bucks vs the Addiction and MCMGs Ladder War to find a more thrilling tag team gimmick match. - If there's a single flaw to be found it's in the production not really settling on wide angles for simultaneous action at the start of the match. They figured it out. - Rey Fenix is the best luchador in the world.

Women's Casino Battle Royale (**1/2) - If nothing else, this really shows off that they now have a surplus of women's wrestlers who deserve time to hang in the ring. Unsurprisingly, the match picked right up when Thunder Rosa and then Jamie Hayter got to the ring, with additional props to Tay Conti and Jade Cargill, who was dumped rather unceremoniously given her general booking... - Okay, there was something else. Welcome to the rechristened Ruby Soho, who I've not seen a lot of outside of her extremely limited showcase in WWE, but she has so many friends in the back and in the industry and that's never for nothing, not in wrestling, anyway. Intrigued to see where she fits, and if the women ever get more than a match per show. - Touched on this in the preamble but this was the roughest part of the night for the home viewer, just weird decisions on cutting away from various entrances to show... nothing in particular happening. Also while the commitment to not-kayfabing the countdown clock is... admirable? It makes the pacing hinky. - Almost everyone who got new gear for tonight was looking like the white ranger -- Nyla, Swole, Bunny, someone I'm missing. Except Anna Jay, whose stars and glitter gear looked great.

MJF v Chris Jericho for the fate of Jericho's in-ring career (***) - MJF's unauthorized homage to Y2J's entrance: good. Fozzy's guitarist going off tempo with the instrumental Judas: weak, and would've been sad if this were the end for Jericho. Especially as the build has felt... muted, somehow. - Props to the commentary for continuing to feed the red herring of 'in AEW,' as a caveat to stipulation, it did feel like... a remote possibility that MJF would win. - Credit to Aubrey for calling this one down the middle and not putting the fix in for her friend Jericho, and I guess the Dusty finish will give MJF plenty to gripe about. - MJF wrestles with a pure heel style, holds, chops, blocks, and Jericho is fifty years old, so the level of wrestling on exhibition in these matches is well beside the point. It was solid to good, and I was fighting burn out from the first half of the card's level of excitement.

CM Punk v Darby Allin (***1/2) - There are a couple benefits of Darby as a dance partner, and it's certainly better than having to watch Punk return against like, QT Marshall or Shawn Spears. Darby does make everyone look slow, but he can also be tossed around, and this raises his profile even in defeat, obviously. That said, the stakes here are... meta, at best, in that we want to see the man look good and justify the hype. It's a weird thing to root for. He certainly does look good. (Tights? Tights!) - It's fun to theorize about actually booking an angle where Punk is rusty and needs to regain his prowess, and maybe he'll stumble, but maybe the most we get out of that angle is hitting the GTS a little close to the ropes so Darby falls right out of the ring, in what was, for me, the spot that justified this whole match. - Sting's proud step-dad aura is still a hell of a thing, I really liked the end of the match kudos all around. - Match was good, hard to hang my emotions on. I wasn't watching WWE when Punk was in WWE. Definitely feeding off the excitement of others a bit here, and he sure can talk. I'd like to see him cultivate a stable, certainly.

Paul Wight v QT Marshall (n/r) - ...popcorn match? QT Marshall is like the anti-Daniel Garcia in that while his prominence and presence is just as inexplicable, I don't want it to continue, and he doesn't justify it in the process. - Match was two minutes longer than it needed to be.

Kenny Omega (c) v Christian Cage for the AEW World Championship (****1/2) - Crowd was both burnt out and more or less waiting for the post-match angle. Which I get. it's hard to cruise to the main event and having seen all the different things we've already seen on this card, even a singular performer like Kenny Omega and a legend with whom he (surprisingly? fittingly?) has superb chemistry with in Christian Cage were up against it to deliver something memorable. - Context dependent, I can definitely see rating this below their Rampage match, especially since... I mean Christian isn't winning the AEW title off Kenny at this or probably any other event. - But! It was really good! It was very good! They really do match-up well, and Kenny's v-trigger has rarely looked more devastating than when it knocks Christian flat. Christian got cut open in a novel and initially worrying way, and Kenny followed up a botched moonsault with a harder version of the same move off a rail, but it was a really great match and it deserved more energy than was available.

Post-Show - Calling back and inverting the end of Dynamite, The Elite strut about the ring, slightly less stoked than they were on Wednesday, but with the Bucks smiling through the pain, and Jungle Boy once again subjected to violence for his misguided heroism, Kenny 'not much a promo' Omega lays down a killer line about nobody being fit to challenge him who isn't unavailable, already tired or dead. - The Undertaker ADAM COLE, BAY BAY as Surprise #3 was a minor stroke of brilliance, and a fun swerve because while it's exciting to see him, his appearance at this point in the narrative does nothing to solve the problem of The Elite beating up Christian and Jungle Boy. Unless he's still sore about his unsolved murder, which he isn't. Storytime with Adam Cole is back and it's beautiful. Also Jungle Boy died for this. - Okay. But. Just. Okay. CM Punk and Bryan Danielson are All Elite. They will hopefully tag together. Bryan will head to NJPW, almost definitely. Minoru Suzuki just walked in and started slugging on Mox. The Forbidden Door is wide open. Will Kenny Omega one day return to Wrestle Kingdom? There are so many possibilities and they are all very exciting. This was a phenomenal show and it didn't have Hangman Page, Cody Rhodes, FTR, Santana and Ortiz, PAC, Andrade, Sammy Guevara, Team Taz, and the rest.

- Wrestling is good, actually. Imagine watching like five hours of wrestling and loving wrestling at the end of it.

*What competes- WK11, Dominion 2018, 2019, DoN 2019, 2021.. All-In, probably. Wrestlemania 30. A few Takeovers. Kris Wolf's retirement show...

[markosmate]

gorgeous (baby blues ll)

pairings; paul x reader

summary; after waking up in a hotel room alone and beginning to find out what you really are, you go looking for the boys to get some answers. spoiler alert: you get more than you bargained for. 

warnings; strong language, use of weed

an:// i’m writing this note before writing this sequel to let y’all know that i for some reason had such a hard time trying to figure out what would happen in this but i finally got this idea so here it is y’all - the long awaited part two!! <33 (also i use babe way too much in this please forgive me,, other pet names make me highkey cringe)

Waking up the next morning was absolute hell. There was no other way to describe it. There was an overwhelming urge to drink something and it filled every vein in your body no matter how many waters you downed, nothing was making it subside. Besides that, there was a god forsaken pain in your chest that felt like it was dragging you towards something else. You couldn’t pin point where exactly it was trying to take you, you just knew you needed to go.

Trying to ignore how shitty you felt, you stood from the cheap motel bed and stumbled your way into the small bathroom. You were hoping a hot shower and some scented shampoo could get your mind off of the pain coursing through your body.

As you stood under the steaming water, you tried hard to think about what happened last night that could’ve caused this pain. The more you dug into your memory, the more came back to you in short flashes. You hadn't actually fallen asleep after David had told you to now that you think about it. It kind of feels like a conscious blackout, where you were still there when it was happening - yet it all happened in what only felt like the blink of an eye.

Flashes of memory came speeding back, almost making you topple over from the pounding headache that came with them. You vaguely remember sitting on the couch, leaning against Paul and drinking from a bedazzled bottle. The boys were all laid back - Marko smoking a joint, Dwayne reading a book, and David scanning through the stations on a radio. The next memory only consisted of you and Paul looking at each other and laughing as a snoring David with a sharpie mustache laid next to you both.

The last memory was short, but sweet. Paul and Dwayne standing with you as you checked into this very motel. "You could just stay with us babe." You remember Paul telling you as he held you close to him, rubbing the tip of his nose against your cheek cutely.

As far as you could tell from your memories, nothing too bad had happened. You’d gotten shit-faced with the boys, drew a mustache on David, and checked into this hotel after Paul and Dwayne drove you here. Nothing too shabby.

Until you stepped out of the shower and screamed at the top of your lungs. Why in the fuck could you see through yourself?

You just sort of stood there for a moment staring at the see-through reflection of yourself in the mirror. You could still see the general outline of your body, but it just kind of looked a cloud of mist.

You looked over towards the bathroom sink and spotted a pretty scented candle sitting next to the faucet. Just to make sure you weren’t going insane, you picked it up and held it behind your back, only to find out you could still see it.

"What in the holy hell happened last night?" You whispered to yourself, trying to pull your clothes on as quick as possible. You didn’t bother properly checking out of the hotel, you just wrapped your old clothes in a towel and hurried out to your motorcycle with the keys in hand.

You stuffed the clothes in your backpack strapped under the seat and you were off in an instant. "Are you kidding?" You growled looking at the sky. The sun was almost completely hidden under the skyline. "How is it already this late?"

You didn’t realize that you didn't really know what you were supposed to do until you were already speeding down the road. You didn’t know how to find the boys, you didn’t know who to ask about where to find them, and as far as you could remember you didn’t exactly know how to get to the cave from here.

After minutes of just aimlessly driving up and down roads, you decided that heading to the boardwalk was the smartest course of action. Hopefully you’d be able to spot them there, and if you didn’t then you’d just have to try and remember all the paths through the woods they had taken to get to the bluff.

The boardwalk was just as crowded as the night before, as you expected. The parking lot was almost completely packed and you didn’t really feel up to driving up and down the lines trying to look for a spot, so you took it upon yourself to follow the boys' lead and drive up onto the boardwalk - something with which you were almost sure was completely illegal. You swerved around multiple crowds of people, constantly looking around and over your shoulder to try and spot the boys. There was no sign of them or their bikes anywhere on the entire beach.

"This is fucking ridiculous, this makes no sense." You muttered, throwing your head back in pure frustration. To the woods you go then. You were absolutely livid that you were being forced to try and find this place once again on your own.

Now that you really thought about it, you couldn’t even really figure out why you felt the need to go to the boys about this predicament. Maybe it’s because you trusted them? Nah, it’s because you blame them for everything that has happened to you since you woke up. You sped down the beach, your bike tires kicking sand up in multiple directions as you angrily ranted in your head.

An indescribable thirst that wasn’t calming down, a pounding headache that had lasted a good two and a half hours at this point, a sharp pain in your chest that throbbed everytime you ignored the urges to follow it to where it was trying to take you, and your body was see through. There’s absolutely no way that they didn’t have something to do with it.

After at least an hour and a couple of wrong turns, you finally made it to the bluffs. You huffed out a breath of air that was nothing short of annoyance as you realized the boys bikes weren’t here either.

"Whatever, I’ll just wait here for them then." You spoke aloud to yourself once more as you killed the engine and walked the bike over to a section of sea-plants to hide it from view. You jogged down the stairs that led to the bridge, stopping halfway over to look out into the ocean.

You really wouldn’t mind staying here for good, after all the traveling you've done for so long it really wouldn’t hurt to finally call somewhere home.

However, you wouldn’t even think about making that decision until you found out what the hell had happened the night before. Once you were safely down inside the cave, you tried to cozy yourself up on the couch to ignore the horrible chill going through the place. They lived here, it shouldn’t take long before they arrive right?

Not even a half hour later, you heard the roars of the engines and the voices of the boys echoing down the side of the bluff. "I don’t understand, you guys dropped her off didn’t you? Where could she have gone?" You could vaguely pick up Marko's voice carried on the wind.

"Stop!" Paul's voiced suddenly came in a shout. He laughed giddily before you heard the pounding of footsteps down the stairs. "I can smell her!"

Smell you? How could he smell you from up there? Suddenly he emerged from the webs and drapes hanging around the opening with a large smile on his face. "Babe!" He grinned as he hopped down from the last step, the other three following quickly after him. "We were just out looking for you for like two hours!"

"Wow, wish I knew that before I went out looking for you guys." You rolled your eyes, pulling the blanket on your shoulders tighter around your body.

"How'd you find your way here so easy?" Marko questioned, leaning over to the radio to turn it up a little for some background noise.

"It wasn’t easy, I got lost six times." You replied bluntly as you kept an eye on Paul who was slowly scooting closer to you on the couch.

David snorted at you, moving to sit down in his wheel chair. You looked at him for the first time since they had come in and snorted right back at him once you noticed the fading mustache clumsily drawn on his face.

He immediately realized what you were looking at and shot you a sharp glare. "Don’t even think you’re off the hook for that."

"What?" You whined playfully. "It was Paul's idea." That was a lie, you truly had no idea who’s idea it was to draw it but you weren’t exactly interested in being at the receiving end of David's wrath just a day after meeting him.

"What?" Paul echoed, locking eyes with you with a small pout playing at his lips. "Don’t sell me out like that, babe."

You giggled at him, for a moment completely forgetting that you were supposed to be mad at them as soon as your eyes locked with his. You caught yourself quickly, cutting your laughter short and turning to look at each of them sharply. "I didn’t come here to laugh." Your resolve broke halfway through and you couldn’t stop the smile from coming to your face once you spotted Dwayne hiding his quiet laughs behind the sleeve of his jacket. "I came here for answers." Your whisper came soon after.

"What kind of answers?" David mumbled, inhaling from his cigarette and slowly letting a cloud of smoke out after.

"What happened last night?" This caused the smirk to slowly come back to his face. You continued, not letting yourself become deterred from his standoffish attitude. "I woke up feeling like absolute shit. I mean, some weird thirst that I couldn’t crave, a horrible headache, I can see through myself! What the hell did you guys do?"

"Nothing you didn’t agree to." Came the leader's genius reply.

"I didn’t agree to anything." You snapped. "What did you do?"

"Listen babe, you drank some blood, joked around for a while, we played some pranks, and I drove you to that motel while Dwayne got your motorcycle from the boardwalk. That’s all that happened. Honest." Paul held out his pinky towards you. You looked at him skeptically before raising your pinky to wrap around his.

"Promise?" You mumbled, not shying away from him as he leaned towards you a little more.

"Promise." The smile he sent you was almost enough to have you falling for him instantly, until his previous words clicked in your head. You roughly shoved him away from you, standing and frantically backing away from all four of them.

"What?" You almost screamed looking at them with a building fury hidden in your eyes. "What the fuck do you mean I drank blood?"

"Calm down sweetheart, you’re being kind of over-dramatic." Marko mocked with a lazy smirk on his face. Dwayne shot him a sharp look before turning to try and console you.

"Calm down? Is this some sort of sick joke?" You began hyperventilating. Whose blood did you drink? Why did you willingly let them give you blood? How does that explain anything that’s been happening to you?

"Okay, I know this looks bad. Trust me, baby, I know. Please come sit and we'll explain everything to you alright?" Paul grabbed onto your wrist gently and led you back over to the couch as Dwayne crouched in front of you and began trying to help direct your breathing back to normal.

"Good?" The brunette checked after a few minutes.

You nodded, leaning back against the couch and wrapping your arms around yourself. "Yeah... thanks." He nodded in acknowledgment before pushing himself into a sitting position, waiting for the other two to sit themselves in a circle so they could all explain it to you as much as possible.

"Yeah, you drank blood. My blood." David explained shortly, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on one of the side tables.

You tried to stop yourself from jumping up and attempting to strangle him, feeling budding frustration build at his lack of explanation.

"Why?" You forced out through gritted teeth, keeping your eyes locked directly onto the platinum blond's.

"To put this shortly, and hopefully get this over with soon, we’re vampires. I'm the head. You drank my blood, now you’re a half vampire. You won’t be a full until you make your first kill. Do with that what you will." And with that, he stood, turned, and made his way into another hallway that stemmed off of the main room.

"I- I just- what... what does that even mean?" You cried out looking in between the three remaining vampires. “Vampires? Y’all are vampires?” Dwayne just shot you a small sympathetic smile before ruffling your hair and making his way into the same hallway David had gone.

"Don’t worry, kitkat. You said you were wandering didn’t you? Have been for a long time? This could be your home, if you want. With us." Marko grinned at you and you slowly felt your resolve fading away.

Okay, yeah, they did turn you without your permission. But, you’d been looking for a place to call home for so long. Yeah, they were vampires. You think? And you were almost a full one like them, so would it be that bad to call these boys, this place your home? You didn’t think so.

"Maybe." You smiled a little, lifting your eyes from your hands to look around the cave for the second time in complete awe. "I do like it here. A lot."

"Yeah, and like Dwayne said last night. You felt a pull to stay here, Santa Carla is where you were meant to be." The curly blond spoke once again, leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed against his chest.

"Why though? Surely you must have an answer for that. If you knew about it, then you must know what it is." You tilted your head the tiniest bit, looking between the two boys sitting next to you.

"The mating bond." David's voice echoed in the main room as he came in from the hallway. He held a small box of records in his hands, setting them down next to his wheelchair as he began sorting through them to find the right one.

"The mating what now?" You snorted, moving to lean your head against Paul's shoulder. He tensed for a moment out of surprise but leaned right back onto you once he realized what you were doing.

"That pull you feel. It’s a mating bond, common in vampires - but not all have them. You feel it now, you’ll feel it a hundred times stronger once you become a full." David explained, finally finding the track he was looking for as he grinned in triumph.

"So what you’re saying... is I’m attached to this place? In a mating bond? And I’ll feel it stronger once I turn?" You were completely and utterly confused about the entire thing and it only became more confusing when all the boys began to chuckle.

"Not the place cutie." Paul teased, moving to massage your shoulder a little bit.

"So... one of you?" The question came rolling off your tongue before you could even think about the possibility.

"Bingo." Dwayne came strolling in, shooting a finger gun in Paul's direction. You immediately caught on to the action, turning in your spot to lock eyes with Paul.

"You?" You whispered, gaping at him as he nodded with a happy grin adorning his face, teased hair bouncing with every movement of his head.

"Right on, Y/n." It was the first time that he called you by your actual name, and it dawned on you how important a mating bond must be to a vampire.

"So you can feel it stronger than I can?"

“God, you bet he can. Felt it as soon as we drove onto the boardwalk last night." Marko chuckled, biting at his thumbnail.

"Only reason we went into max's video store." David explained, twirling his bracelet around as he talked.

"Wow, okay. That’s a lot to take in." You mumbled, moving to lean into Paul more as he fully wrapped his arm around your waist - much more comfortable in being physical with you now that you knew the truth.

"But... you’ll stay?" Paul asked.

"And change?" Marko threw in.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I will." You grinned at them all as they all cheered, Paul laughing into your ear as he pulled you into him tightly.

As the other three began celebrating the newest addition to their little family, you turned to look at Paul only to realize he was already looking at you. You mirrored his smile as you looked into his pretty blue eyes, trying to dig deeper and catch a glimpse of what he was feeling. In the end, you just ended up whispering to him.

"Can I kiss you?" His face lit up and his free hand came up to cup the side of your neck, his thumb grazing softly over your jaw.

"Hell yeah, you can." And his lips met yours in the middle. This is where you were meant to be, you finally knew where you were being pulled to all along.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.29}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The very moment Robin was back inside the castle, every possible doubt about what she was about to do had vanished entirely if it had ever been existent in the first place. On her haste down into the dungeons, people jumped out of her path at the mere sight of the sinister expression on her face, and honestly, she was more grateful than ever that nobody dared to as much as look at her for too long. Sometimes a reputation was a curse, sometimes a saving grace. Right now the latter was the case.

She didn't say a single word when she opened the door to the potions classroom in one swift move. Still stayed silent when she made her way through the rows of desks and students, straight to the front where Snape was working at his desk like always during detention. She didn't need to say a thing, and yet all eyes were on her in an instant. The students' many ones in surprise and nigh intimidation at her mode of entrance, Snape's merely in instant concern. He knew that she wouldn't just show up here, bursting into detention if it wasn't for a matter of utmost importance. So she only looked at him in silent confirmation of what they both knew was happening right now.

"Detention is over. Get out. Now." Snape spoke up with a brief glimpse at his students, in a tone to match Robin's grave expression. Then however his eyes found and never left hers as he rose to his feet in an instant to round the table to come over to her side as if the rest of the world beyond them simply ceased to exist.

"But professor, it's still over an hour until dinner… Are you sure we're allowed to go already?" A young boy, probably a first year, remarked carefully, which earned him a few groans and curses from his peers, and an instantaneous but deathly glare from Snape.

"Question me again and you will spend the entire remainder of this term in detention." He snapped at the boy, then turned to everyone else who had stopped in their tracks or not yet started moving in the first place. "What on earth are you waiting for?! Is there a part of 'get out' you dunderheads failed to understand?"

It took exactly five seconds for the students to rush out the door while the echo of his words still ghosted through the masses of stone. Then, in the very instant the last people had left, the door to the classroom flew shut, was locked and warded in a now long practiced procedure that, to Robin's knowledge, was yet unbreakable. Ever since new year's, they had become more careful with their every step for a multitude of reasons. Morgan being one of them.

"What on earth-..." Snape didn't get further than that before Robin had dropped her backpack and winter robes on the ground and wrapped her arms around him so tightly that her muscles started quivering, urged into this impulsive need for closeness by the sudden and sheer overwhelming realization that she had come way too close to never seeing him again. In the end, it was a gift of fate that they were still here, still together. This thought as well as the hot rush of welling tears it brought along was only quenched when he held her tightly in return, and her composure collapsed once and for all.

Sure, there were more important things to be dealt with right now and Robin had promised herself not to let her emotions get in the way of that, but she couldn't help it anymore. Repression and putting on acts for her own mind only worked for so long. And thus she let herself dwell in his embrace for now, clawing onto him like a lifeline of reality, basking in the comfort and safety she needed now more than ever. The world could wait. It had to.

"Whatever it is, we will be fine." He said after a while of drawing soft patterns on her back, and Robin almost had to smile. She had never told him just how soothing she found that gesture, nor his voice and words of encouragement, but somehow he still had always known anyway. There was no measure for how much she loved him for that, for just knowing. "May I see for myself?"

"Please do. I couldn't logically explain what happened anyway, not even if I tried." She sighed in return without even having to ask what he meant, and then waited for his presence in her mind as she had felt it so often before. It was a truly pleasant procedure at this point, like a gentle caress, like the patterns on her back. And therefore sharing her memories of what had happened brought an immediate and breathtaking relief to her troubled mind as much as his presence did to her soul. The panic faded, the anxiety and sickness made way for reason and even a strong sense of safety. She might not need him to protect her… but she still was more than glad to know that he wouldn't let anything stop him from doing so anyway.

For a while longer neither of them spoke, even once he had seen all there was, all there had been. His hold on her only tightened, and moments later the scratch on her eyebrow started tingling with the warm echo of magic. Perhaps she should ask him to teach her some of those miraculous healing spells… If fights over life and death were to become a normal occurrence in her days now, it might yet prove useful to have some of his tricks up her own sleeves as well. But that would have to wait; for now, she had to get over herself and deal with the more pressing issues. With a deep breath, she pulled back when she finally felt ready to face the world and the worries it brought at last. They could do this. Together, like always.

In the following minutes it in return took Robin quite a bit of convincing to remind Snape that, one, she had won the fight and had come out more or less fine after all, only cold and bruised, and two, that they had agreed that killing Morgan was still not an option. No matter how very tempting the idea was under the current circumstances. Robin did agree with one point though, when Snape said that if it ever came to a moment where it was either Morgan's or Robin's life, he wouldn't waste a second of thought to save her no matter what might be the cost in return. She did agree, even though she knew that it had never been meant as a question in the first place.

Indeed, the thought made Robin smile. He would gladly set the world and skies on fire for her if the opportunity should come, without a single doubt or hesitation, and while that thought should have been at least somehow disconcerting, the unshakable fact only made Robin feel ineffably proud. There had never been such a thing as 'normal' when it came to him and her… They had always been living by extremes. Living through passion for life. And in that intensity, in the way they lived and were going to live, she found her fear replaced by determination.

"I believe to have a lead on Morgan's reasons, to find out what this is all about. A start." She said, and was met with the most attentive, intrigued gaze in return. "Or at least I finally have an idea where to look for one."

"Other than his sheer insanity being reason enough, you mean?"

"Actually, I'm rather sure that he is quite as sane as you and I." Robin sighed, while a half smile found its way onto her lips nonetheless. "But no matter what he is or isn't, we will find out what makes him do what he does and we will put an end to it. In a different way than by killing him. A better one."

"You're terribly rational. As always." Snape replied in a huff, and yet let his fingers trace the outside of her hand in a feathery touch to replace some of the past embrace's comfort. It was remarkable how much better he had gotten with such simple signs of affection over the last few months, even if still ever so subtle. "I wish I had your level of optimism."

"I'm not optimistic, but realistic." Her half smile turned into a full one as she took the opportunity to interlace their fingers in return. "This mess with Morgan has been going on for almost seven years now, and I need it to end on my terms before it ends on his. We have to see to it that it does, and we will."

"Tell me more about your lead then; I must say that neither his words nor your thoughts on the matter made much sense to me."

"They didn't make sense to me either, until I went shopping with Cas and Jorien."

"You almost died, and then you went shopping right after that instead of coming straight back here?"

"Yes?"

"You hate shopping. And you almost died."

"Yes…?"

"I am honestly not sure if I should be impressed or irritated. You really are perfectly impossible."

"Why, thank you!" Robin had to smirk upon his incredulous expression, but soon enough her thoughts and expression went back to business as she tried to put the mess of thoughts into a stringent sentence. "To be honest, I just went shopping because I didn't want to let the girls down, and I hoped it would bring me some diversion from the events I did not even nearly understand at that point. But it was Morgan's words that made me think, and even throughout the hour where I tried to focus on other matters, they never quite left me alone no matter what. To make it short, I have an idea what he could've meant with some of what he said. The part about looking at my being but not me, the earrings and also comparing me to some other person who is me and not me at the same time."

"And?"

"The painting in the room of hidden things." Robin finally got out the very core of her thoughts, of her suspicion, and it didn't take more than that for Snape's mind to visibly halt at her words. "We have to find it and see if the woman who looks like me has earrings or not. Because then Morgan's comments-..."

"Would suddenly make a disconcerting amount of sense." He finished the sentence for her with a deep frown as his thoughts finally caught up with hers. "It still doesn't explain why he does what he does, but it certainly is a starting point indeed."

"The best lead we've ever had. And the only one."

"Then we cannot wait any longer." His tone went from considering to beyond determined. "We should be able to get up to the seventh floor unseen even at the present time, if we make use of the hidden paths in the castle."

"Lead the way then." Robin said with a small but sincere smile, then gave Snape's hand a gentle squeeze and finally let go to take her robes and bag to his office for safekeeping. The classroom was a mere shed in comparison to the fortress of spells that surrounded the office these days, and if today had proven anything to her, it was that she couldn't be careful enough. Not even with her belongings. After all, objects could be cursed just the same, and do perhaps even more damage than a simple one-time spell. She wasn't keen on finding out just how much more.

… … …

They made their way up to the correct seventh floor hallway in a matter of minutes, unseen in the rising darkness of the castle, and it again took only a minute and an illusionment charm to summon the grand door to the room of hidden things. The extraordinary place didn't fail to fascinate Robin even now upon their entrance, and she inevitably had to think back to the last time she had been here. The only time, to be exact, because she hadn't dared returning alone. A lot of things had been easier back then… But she wouldn't want to go back for anything in the world. She couldn't even bear the thought of going back to the torture that was loving from afar.

"Do you remember where the portrait was located?" Snape asked once he had closed the heavy door behind them, and broke Robin out of her marveling and memories. Yes, this reality was far better, no matter what.

"I, uh… I was rather distracted the last time we were in here." She admitted with a small shrug, which made him raise an eyebrow at her. Robin rolled her eyes in return. "I was trying not to jump at you for how close you kept coming to me, if you have to know. So no, I don't remember the path to the portrait."

"Pity." He sighed in feigned disappointment, then merely took her hand again and started walking off in absolute certainty where to go while pulling her along. Of course he knew where the portrait was… Robin had to smile against her will as she couldn't help rolling her eyes again. Insufferable idiot. Her idiot.

In a matter of minutes they reached the mountain of objects Robin very much recognized as the place she had discovered the portrait in nonetheless. The flipped chairs, the pile of pink teacups, the bucket filled with yellowed scrolls. Yes, this was the right spot indeed. But there was no painting anywhere in sight.

"It's gone…" Robin wondered out loud, brows furrowed and the hairs in her neck standing on edge. She hadn't quite considered that people other than them had access to this place as well… other people who might not have her best interest in mind, with the portrait or not. Or who came in here not to hide something, but to hide something that already was in here. The thought made her shudder.

"I can see that." Snape replied flatly, with very much the same irritation colouring his features and occupying his mind. His concern was all the more reason for Robin to feel everything but at ease in this place, even now that their hands were still tightly interlaced. Perhaps they were both scared to part again any time soon. But still, bloody portrait… couldn't anything ever be easy at Hogwarts?! Perhaps this room wasn't such a great place after all. Then again, maybe it only was almost getting killed that had her on edge far more quickly than usual. That explanation for her unease was more likely. Gods, she couldn't even keep her thoughts in line properly.

"Perhaps someone moved it while in the search for something else?" She suggested in an attempt to keep her recently regained calm. This was not a setback, that they hadn't found the portrait where it was supposed to be. It was rather a mystery, a riddle, and those were supposed to have edges and corners. Yes, that made her feel better about the situation. "I know tracing spells don't work in here, but perhaps we could have a quick look around nonetheless?"

"I have a better idea." Snape said with a thoughtful gaze at the spot where the portrait had been. Then – much to Robin's dismay – he let go of her hand and instead made them both move to the side, almost leaning into the next mountain of objects behind them as he went on. "How likely is it that Morgan, the perhaps only professor who has a habit of being constantly short of time, would spend precious minutes every morning and every night, according to his own words, to come here to look at the painting?"

"Unlikely, I should say. Practically impossible."

"Yes. And what does that thereby mean?"

"You just love to make me guess, don't you?"

Snape rolled his eyes, partially at Robin and also partially at himself if she wasn't mistaken, but then answered his own question nonetheless. "It means that he must have taken the portrait elsewhere. Either to his office or his private chambers, I presume."

"Oh bloody hell no…" Robin groaned under her breath, then leaned her head back into her neck for a moment to place that very logical piece of information into her mental puzzle. "I'm afraid you're right, but I still very much hope you're not. The thought-..."

"I know. It concerns me no less."

"Can we do anything to find out for sure before I break into his office for nothing?"

"Before we break into his office. Don't even think that I would let you do any of this alone." He protested immediately in a reproachful scoff, but when his words only made Robin smile ever so slightly, his expression mellowed out in return. "There is no way to be entirely certain about the whereabouts of the painting, seeing as the room's magic to protect its contents is older than the castle itself. We cannot undo it, not even nearly."

"Pity." Robin sighed in a mirror of his own favoured expression, which earned her a not-smirk before he went on.

"What we can do however is to trace a person's movements. If Morgan ever was in here, we should be able to see where precisely he went, which in this case is the next best thing."

"That's bloody brilliant!"

"Don't look so surprised…" He scoffed again, but the not-smirk lingered on even as he worded the according spell. It wasn't an unfamiliar or difficult one, but what made Robin feel both in awe and proud beyond reason was the very idea in the first place. Tracing the person and not the object was such an out-of-the-box approach to the problem at hand that it might as well have come from her own mind. But coming from Snape now, it made Robin realize all over again how much they had grown into each other's ways of thinking over the years. She couldn't help feeling proud of that even in a situation like this.

A mere few seconds later, the ground before them lit up with a straight line of glowing footsteps that came from between the mountains of things from the direction of the door. It led straight to the point where Robin vaguely remembered the portrait to have been, then it took a sharp turn straight back to where it had come from. No detours, no looking around. A straight path here, a straight path back.

"The spell only shows the last time he was here, not possible times before that." Snape explained, and Robin found herself nodding on instinct as her eyes followed the footsteps between the mountains where they disappeared from her sight.

"Yeah, I know…" She mused, frowning to herself once more. Obviously she knew the spell and its specifics, but something entirely else was nagging at her mind again, something she should take notice of but hadn't as of yet. It was terribly irksome.

"Perhaps a summary of the state of affairs might help?" He suggested, and it didn't even come as a surprise to Robin anymore that he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. In more instances than she could count, he just knew indeed.

"Very well, let's see…" Robin mused with a sigh, while they started making their way back towards the exit in a slow saunter. "Morgan wants to kill me. He is not insane, he rather seems to have a reason for what he does. One he doesn't quite agree with, or at least is somewhat troubled by himself. The chance that he can win a duel against me at this point is near non-existent, so his only chance is to catch me by surprise or trickery, like he did today. He would find it easier to kill me if I fought back, but he still doesn't plan to stop trying either way. He cannot stop for some reason, or so he says at least. He wants to kill me, and yet he doesn't want to see me dead."

"He has a twisted obsession with you, whether that be for you as a person or you as a representation of something or someone else." Snape went on in the wake of her words. "He clearly adores you, while yet he has an ineffable hatred for you, which makes him both enjoy and dread seeing you suffer. The obsession with you led him to take the portrait out of this room, which he came to discover by yet unknown factors. He came in here at least once and took the portrait out with him to presumably either his office or his rooms. There he looks at it every morning and every night, as for his statement, because he rarely sees the real you outside of class. Through that or perhaps for other reasons, he has formed some sort of bond with the woman in the painting, which he recognizes to be you and not you at the same time. He wants you to be his, and yet he wants you dead."

"Exactly." Robin sighed again. "That makes so much sense and yet it doesn't make sense at all. It's as if he is two people at once, at war over one thing he is made to do and one thing he wants to do. If you would've asked me a year ago, I would've said it could be an Imperius curse. But after reading the book Dumbledore gave me for my birthday, and you'll know this because we both have read it a gazillion times by now, the curse just doesn't quite fit in with the facts of the case."

"I agree. He is far too aware of himself and his struggle on either end to be cursed. Especially unlikely for an Imperius curse."

"Good… But that also means that nothing fits in with the facts. We have a bunch of new questions, but no answers whatsoever."

"Yet."

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[askfallenroyalty]

mod update :V

hey ya’ll! i had a pretty tough time over the holidays... 2020 was a hell year.

i had BIG plans for this year and didn’t realize i was going to miss the actual Christmas date. (i ALWAYS update on christmas for askblogs, have for the last several years) i basically had 2 Christmases, one with mom and one with my dad, and that exhaustion + dropping out of school put me into a hugely unexpected spiral that i’m only now getting out of LOL. if you’re new here, hi. i’m sam. i have bipolar depression and very likely adhd but i can’t afford to get diagnosed. i’m having trouble coping. how r u.

cheek aside, i hope we are all doing at least a little better since the new year and hopefully the spring sunshine will help us all!

but yeah to AFR, i’m bummed i missed out on the date and couldn’t finish the arc. i had TOO much planned tbh and was speeding through it to get to the plot. the idea was that we’d learn more about Frisk’s history and their grandma. We’d have a Big Party with mettaton and Mew Mew and it’d be a HUGE event that was going to be super fun and cool to see the full cast and-!

none of that ended up happening LOL. i jumped to melodrama because i had so much planned that i couldn’t properly space it out. then because i wasn’t updating, i wasn’t getting asks (NOT that anyone’s fault but mine, making that clear rn) and to be honest...

i’ve kinda overcame some coding hurtles i’ve had with gamemaker and have been really getting into working on my fangame. i’m still Not Good yet but it’s fun and what little I do get accomplished feels amazing. with comics, and askblogs specifically, I have to keep a watchful eye on getting feedback (asks, reblogs, comments) and try to make ya’ll engaged while doing detailed and more detailed artwork in short bursts of time. which was fine back when i was more stable and wasn’t trying as hard with backgrounds, but i’m rusty and got used to detail.

i’ve been growing a distate for online comics for these last few years (comics are insanely extensive and quickly enjoyed) and i’m not... sure... how to go about this anymore...

i’ve been keeping it a secret but I’ve wanted to do the DarkWorld finale in animation. i’ve done some animatics, tried out making sprites (i even considered making a fangame for it, or a fan animation using GMS 2.3.1) but its been taking a long time and its not fair to drag it out so much lmao.

so... what do ya’ll think i should do? cause i still have this big Christmas party thing planned (but like... its too late for christmas and was too ambitious) and the DR event finale won’t be done anytime soon. should i ignore the fact that its january and still do the christmas arc with toned down art? should I just stop making comics?? should i even continue AFR? i can’t expect an actual answer from you guys. this is something i have to figure out for myself...

that said, whenever i run across chara and asriel i get hit with such a strong urge to finish this story. because the end of it, (and i’m not even saying i regret the DR event because that conveyed plot things i wouldn’t have been able to do right through just the regular story w/out the darkworld) the end of AFR is something truly emotionally important to me and has SUCH a huge emotional pay off that I have to tell. so i can’t STOP afr, and i can’t just write a fic version of it cause that’s now how this story was written/structured around.

i’m kinda lost on what to do is what i’m saying. i’ll think about it, but i honestly think maybe I should just drop the christmas stuff and put the dr thing on hold (until i guess the mainstory is done and i can focus on that badass animation i have planned). would that be ok?

also, thanks for sticking by me even when i’ve been basically Gone for months. ya’ll are the best

[rhysismydaddy]

Naughty Neighbors pt. 2 (Elriel)

As promised, it’s in Azriel’s POV which was actually super hard for me to write for some reason. Don’t ask why it’s in first person when Elain’s isn’t. Just go with it I’m so tired.

I LOVED reading the comments on the last post they brought the biggest smile to my face so thank you all so much for the love!

Part 3

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~Azriel~

At first, I’d thought it was just attraction.

I mean, it was inevitable. She'd shown up in the middle of the night, dressed in a thin, rose-colored robe that did absolutely nothing to hide the curves underneath, smiling at me like I don’t deserve to be smiled at.

It was obvious I’d be attracted to her.

But it was also different. 

Because usually, when I’m attracted to a woman, I go after her and get her out of my system the old fashioned way. But with Elain Archeron... it’s somehow more than that. 

Don’t get confused, I’d be more than happy to have her under me. Or on top of me. Or trapped between me and a wall. 

But I also crave her smile, her laugh. Her blush. 

Fuck, I love that blush. 

The woman turns red at any sort of innuendo, like she’s never been flirted with before. At least not properly. 

I’m damn near addicted to it. 

Which might explain why I’ve developed a routine in the week after moving into my apartment. I get up and get ready, walk with her to work, fight the temptation to go across the street and kiss her stupid, then walk with her home. 

It’s only a total of ten minutes together a day, but it's enough to drive me fucking crazy. 

Crazy enough to do it over and over again, just like I am right now. 

I knock on the door to her shop, keeping my unspoken vow to never go in the flower-infested place. 

“Hey,” she says with a grin as she comes down to meet me, locking the glass door behind her. “How was work?”

“Well, a three-hundred pound man got a tattoo of a raccoon on his back. Shit took three hours and was bigger than in real life.” She giggles, and my lips twitch at the sight. “You?”

“I sold a lot of bouquets, since it’s wedding season. Nothing special.”

We start the short walk back to our apartment complex, walking close enough that our arms occasionally brush. The feel of her soft skin on mine has me gritting my teeth, and we’re still four minutes out. Fuck.

Elain shivers slightly, and since it isn’t cold, I take it to mean I’m not the only one affected. I could be a gentleman and let the reaction go, but... 

“Are you cold?”

Soft brown eyes meet mine, and there’s a bit of surprise in them. “No.”

“You sure? You shivered.” 

Those eyes narrow slightly, well on to the game I’m playing. “I’m sure.”

I can’t stop the smirk from forming on my face, but she just sighs and turns straight forward again. 

“Any plans for the weekend?”

I’m practically baiting her into saying she’s doing something with her boyfriend, even though I doubt that’ll be the case. I haven’t so much as seen the guy around the entire week. 

If I were him-

No. We’re not going there. 

“Not really, actually. I might go to the MOMA.”

It’s easy to picture her in a museum, staring adoringly at overpriced pieces of art a child could probably recreate. “Art fan?”

“Not really. My sister has an exhibit this week and wants me to come. I like her art, but she’s the exception.”

For some reason, this makes me smile. “Nothing’s good enough to impress you?”

Her eyes narrow in the cute way they always do when I tease her, and she says, “Nothing makes me feel anything. Art should make you feel something. Right?”

Is she seriously asking me that? “I don’t know. I’ve never been to a museum.”

Elain stops walking suddenly, and I turn to face her with raised brows. “Ever? You’ve never been to a museum?”

I shake my head, confused as to why she’s confused. Is that not normal?

“What about on school trips?”

Oh. 

That explains it. 

I turn and keep walking, knowing she’ll catch up in a second. When she does, I say, “Maybe my school was low on field trip funds or something.”

The lie tastes like dirt in my mouth, so I light a cigarette to wash it down. 

She rolls her eyes like she knows I’m full of shit and keeps walking. 

“You look beautiful today, Elain.” 

Her cheeks go pink at the words, and the urge to punch her boyfriend grows. If a woman blushes every single time someone calls her beautiful, she probably doesn’t hear it enough. 

And I know I tell her everyday, but it’s especially true today. She’s in one of her probably hundred dresses, and it’s tighter around the waist and loose around the bottom. 

I think it was designed just for her.

Or maybe just to drive me insane. Either theory works. 

Her hair’s down, framing the soft features I’m disgustingly obsessed with, and there’s a pink tone to her full lips. She looks like a goddamn flower. 

I hate flowers, I remind myself helplessly. 

We keep walking, and I’m so focused on thinking about anything except the way that pretty little dress swishes around her thighs that I don’t even realize we’re back at the complex. 

I open the door for her, and she goes inside but waits before heading up the stairs. 

“What are you doing?”

Her cheeks go a bit more red, even as her eyes narrow. “I’m wearing a dress. You go up first.”

“Elain Archeron,” I scold instantly, mood brightening already, “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of trying to look up your dress.” 

I probably would’ve, but that’s another point entirely. 

She bites her lip, and my blood starts to thrum. “I didn’t say that, actually.”

“Oh, I see. You just want to look at my ass, then.”

A laugh bubbles out of her, and I take mercy and head up the stairs, pausing once every now and then to shake my butt in her face. 

“You’re a child,” she laughs, pushing my back to make me go forward again. 

I’m laughing, too by the time we make it to the hallway with our apartments. But the joy falls away as we stand outside, both nervously silent. It feels like the end of a date, for some reason. 

Maybe because we were laughing and smiling and flirting. Maybe. 

“What’s your name?” she asks, exactly like she always does. 

Fucking unable to help it, I lean in close enough our noses brush, smiling when she sucks in a breath. “You ready to pay the price?”

Every day it’s the same response. She usually shies away, rolls her eyes, and drops it, but today she surprises me. “What’s the price, exactly?”

Her voice is a little scratchy, and her legs are tense, like she’s pressing them together. For a moment, I can’t even breathe, let alone tell her. She looks so adorably naive and beautiful right now. It’s hard to focus on anything except the heaving of her chest, the lip tucked between her teeth. 

Bu it’s the raw desire in her eyes that makes me finally respond. “I want you to give in. I want you to kiss me like I know you’re dying to. I want you to admit that it’s me that turns you on, me who you think about at night.”

Her breathing’s rougher now, and it ignites a fire in my blood. “I want you to tell me you want me, Elain. Because we both know you do.”

“I...”

Fucking hell, she’s going to kill me. I’m desperate to hear the words, so when I speak, it sounds like a plea. “Say it.”

But something comes over her, and the cloudiness sweeps from her eyes instantly. She takes a deep breath and places a palm against my chest to shove me away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a boyfriend.”

Her favorite thing to say, apparently. 

“I love him,” Elain says with strong, fake conviction. “I... I don’t want you.”

A harsh laugh forces itself out of my throat. “Beautiful little liar.”

Her cheeks go pink, and I smile in spite of the tense conversation. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are, but that’s okay. I get it.” Before I can stop myself, I’m moving to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “But I’m not telling you my name until you stop.”

Before she can respond, the door behind her swings open, revealing a man instantly recognizable as the boyfriend. He’s in a disgustingly cheap suit, about 5′11 with red hair and golden brown eyes with his hair pulled back in a low bun.

I automatically want to punch him for some reason, but I deny myself the satisfaction. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, glancing between me and Elain. There’s something in his voice, but it’s not suspicion. It’s surprise. Like he can’t even fathom the idea of seeing her with another man. 

Fucking idiot. 

A woman like her is always going to get male--and probably female--attention. 

“Nothing,” Elain says instantly, taking a step towards him. “This is our neighbor. He moved in Monday.”

“Oh. Hey, man. I’m Lucien.”

I ignore his outstretched hand. “The boyfriend?”

A bit of the friendliness leaves his eyes, and he pulls Elain to him and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “The boyfriend.”

“How exciting,” I mock, sounding like a total prick. I don’t really mean to, but I can’t help it. I mean, this is the guy she’s with? Objectively, I’m man enough to admit he isn’t exactly ugly, but he sounds about as interesting as a can of beans. 

He probably works a desk job. Something in finance. 

And he has Elain? 

It makes no sense. 

Lucien The Boyfriend ignores that statement and looks down at Elain. “I missed you this week,” he mutters before pressing a quick, grossly wet kiss to her lips. 

The surprise in her eyes makes it clear he’s not usually so... affectionate. 

I have to cough to hide a laugh. 

He’s trying to mark his territory, but if he actually looked at his girlfriend’s face, he could easily see how stupid it looked. 

“Have a nice night, lovebirds,” I say sarcastically as I unlock my door, still chuckling to myself. If he kisses her like that, gods know how he fucks her. 

Poor woman. 

~Elain~

Well, that was uncomfortable. 

And embarrassing. 

The little laugh her neighbor had barely attempted to hide made her skin burn. Lucien wasn’t a bad kisser, but neither of them had really been ready for his sudden display of affection. 

Plus, it’s not like the man had tried to hide his reason for kissing her. They hardly ever touched in public. 

Or at home, really. 

It’d been three weeks since they’d slept together, so she knew the kiss was for their audience’s benefit. 

She ignored the gross feeling inside her gut and went to the kitchen to start dinner. 

“That guy’s rude,” Lucien commented, sliding on a bar stool and loosening his tie. “And he looks like a drug dealer.”

The urge to roll her eyes was almost overpowering. He thinks anyone with tattoos is a drug dealer. “He’s nice.”

“So you’ve met before?”

Elain sighed, not knowing how to answer this. “Sort of. He works at the tattoo place across the street, so I bump into him some. I don’t even know his name, though.”

Why was she lying? 

I bump into him? 

Seriously? 

She’d walked with him every day this week. And thought about him all the time. 

Not to mention tonight, when she’d been a second away from finally finding out what his mouth felt like against hers, what it tasted like. 

Gods, just the thought of that encounter made her sweat. 

He knew exactly what he was doing to her. 

And her mind knew, knew, he was dangerous and might very well be involved in all sorts of illegal activities, but her body didn’t give a single shit. 

She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone before. 

But that was just attraction. What she had with Lucien, that was love. A lifelong, everlasting love. Right?

She slid the plate of reheated chicken and rice in front of her boyfriend and muttered, “I’m going to shower.”

He nodded, not even looking up. 

Two hours later, they were watching a movie in bed, neither of them paying much attention to the screen. There had been a tension between them ever since the weird kissing incident. 

She wasn’t mad, but it had just made her feel a little strange. 

He seemed to notice it, too.

“I love you,” Lucien whispered quietly, rolling on his side to look down at her. “I know things have been weird recently, and I’m sorry. I’m just stressed at work, but I don’t need to bring that home with me. I just... I love you. You know that right?”

She nodded immediately. “I know. It’s okay. I love you, too.”

A small smile on his face, he leaned down to her and kissed her. There was no awkwardness now, thank the gods. 

She thought he’d pull away like usual, but he tilted his head and took it deeper, sliding his tongue in her mouth.

Surprised, she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Something in the back of her mind was hatefully muttering that he was only doing this because of their neighbor, but her body didn’t really mind. It had been weeks, and just being touched made her happy.

Supporting himself on his elbows, he came over her, resting in between her thighs. A hand snuck down and tugged her robe open, then she heard his belt buckle open.

Normally she’d want to take things slower and draw it out, but she didn’t mind tonight. Her body needed him and whatever contact it could get.

A few moments of shuffling, then he pressed against her, and she gasped as he immediately started to move. Okay, maybe a little more drawing it out would have been helpful. 

Her hips moved with him, trying to keep up with his increasing pace. Lucien grunted in her ear, breath hot on her neck. 

It was too much too soon, and he seemed to sense that. His hand came to her breasts, and she moaned softly as he molded one to his touch.

The sound seem to affect him, and he stilled above her, then kissed her deeply.

Elain laid underneath him, heart racing, and tried not to raise an eyebrow. Or laugh. Or cry. 

That was it? The first time they had sex in almost a month, and that was it?

He pulled out slowly, kissed her brow, and rolled over. Her mouth dropped open.

He wasn’t even going to make sure she finished? Because she sure as hell hadn’t. And more than that, he rolled away from her?

They didn’t always have great sex, but it was usually better than that. And he always held her afterward until she fell asleep.

She felt cheap. Used.

Definitely unsatisfied.

Now more than ever, it felt like they were fifty years old. She made him dinners and kept the apartment clean, he worked a desk job at an investment bank, they came home, barely talked, then had unremarkable sex.

She’d known for a while they were in a slump, but now it seemed like it was a permanent thing. 

After waiting until he started snoring soundly, she slipped a hand between her legs, trying to relieve some of the tension.

Gods, that had been awful.

Maybe it was her fault. Maybe it was because she was so worked up from...

Her neighbor’s smirking face popped into her mind. The ache between her legs got worse, and she moaned as she slipped a finger inside herself.

Sitting up suddenly, she pushed his face out of her head. This was wrong.

She couldn’t... fantasize about another man while in the same bed as her boyfriend.

Elain threw her robe on the ground and walked to the shower, ignoring the fact that she’d already taken one tonight. She’d wash this night away and forget about it.

But he appeared in her mind again, shaking his head with a smile. That’s not possible, beautiful.

Hard to forget someone when they were mentally stalking you.

~

The next morning, Lucien was gone before she even dragged herself out of bed. She was technically late, but she didn’t even care. Perk of being her own boss. 

Elain trudged around, getting ready slowly. It had been a long night. Even after her very cold shower, she hadn’t been able to clear her mind and relax. 

When she opened the door, she couldn’t repress her groan. Apparently, his face was stalking him in her head and real life.

“Long night?” he asked, a small, almost victorious smile on his face.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at that expression. She knew him well enough to know he was trying not to laugh. “Yes.”

“Same. Noisy neighbors.”

It took a few moments, but a furious blush exploded on her face as she realized what he was talking about. She knew the walls were thin, but... “Oh, my gods.”

He’d heard!

Oh, gods.

This was really, really bad. 

“Have fun?”

She glared at his annoyingly handsome face, barely resisting the urge to punch that smile away. “Yes. So much fun.”

She was, in fact, a dirty little liar. 

“Mmhm, sounded like it. All three minutes of it.”

An indignant sound escaped her, and he started to laugh. She ignored how lovely the sound was and chanted, “Shut up shut up shut up.”

“Not a chance.” He glanced down at her legs. “Hey, do you need help waking there? Or are you too sore from all that terrible se-”

She slapped a hand over his mouth, and he smiled under her fingers.

“You’re such an asshole,” she told him. “I love him. And he’s a great lover.”

The asshole just raised an eyebrow.

“Usually,” she amended. “He was tired.”

Gently, he pried her hand off his face. “I could be in a coma and do better than three minutes.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal. And beyond disturbing.”

He smiled. “We going to work?”

Elain glared. “Only if you promise not to make any more comments about my sex life.”

“I haven’t made a single one!” He protested, still smirking. “I’ve been joking about the lack of your sex life, baby girl. Keep up.”

“Oh my gods,” she growled, pushing past him and yanking her door shut.

“At first, I didn’t even know what you guys were doing,” he told her, walking easily beside her as she stormed down the stairs and started down the empty sidewalk. “I heard his weird ass grunt and thought he was working out or something.”

She rolled her eyes.

“But then I heard you moan, and I-”

“I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“Anyway, I heard the boyfriend start snoring, so I figured the debacle was over. But I heard you again.” He smirked down at her. “Wanna tell me what you were doing over there?”

From the look on his face, he knew damn well what she was doing. “You-”

“No, I know you weren’t doing me. Would’ve been a lot louder if you were.”

Her glare could’ve frozen the Sahara. “I was going to say that you are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

The man just smiled, more than happy with himself today. Gods, he was insufferable. “I might be annoying, but at least I last longer than your little boyfriend.”

The way he said that made her jaw clench. What was it with the men in her life being completely useless today? It pissed her off. “Oh, I seriously doubt it.”

A dark, almost promising look crept into his hazel eyes, and he leaned down to murmur, “I promise you one thing, Elain. If I had you under me, I wouldn’t stop until you were screaming my name. Maybe not even then.”

She didn’t bother pointing out she didn’t even know his name.

Then he pulled away and smiled, and she noticed they were in front of her store. “Have a nice day, gorgeous.”

She was so fucked. 

_____________________________________________________________

To all my Lucien stands, I don’t really believe he’s complete shit in the sack (yes, yes I do), but I’m trying to write a story here, okay?

Part 3

@astreia-oniria @whimsyrhys @lameomclameo @wineywitch202 @thedarkdemigod @captainthefangirlofhp @elriel4life @queen-of-glass @courtofjurdan @nessiantho @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @stardelia @myshadowsingeraz @tswaney17 @illyriangarbage @nicerhero @fancycrowncat @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @bamchickawowow @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @poisonous00

[mcrmadness]

This is just me talking about (my) asexuality and aromanticism and mainly about how I figured I'm aroace. I'm from Finland and recently turned 30 so my experience and "lgbt+ history" might not be what you know it as, especially if you are not from Europe, or if your native language is English.

Also this is highly personal, so I doubt anyone here will have 100% same experience. But that's fine because remember: we're all individuals here and these are NEVER universal. You're still valid even if you wouldn't relate to what being aspec is to me.

It might be IS a long post so beware, but I've just been feeling like writing down some thoughts so here we go...

What I have been able to track is that I was 17, in 2008, when I first stumbled upon the term "asexuality". I don't remember exactly how, but I just remember reading about it and immediately going "yeah that's me". But what I do remember is that no one talked it being about sexual attraction. Basically how understood it was: asexuality = sex-repulsion.

I was 17, and somehow I knew I was sex-repulsed, but at the same time also thought I'm just a minor, so it's normal to be sex-repulsed. But even after turning 18, I don't recall ever feeling sexual attraction. I didn't think of myself as a "late bloomer" but just as someone who just has no interest towards sex. At some point I became really anxious of men, however. Nothing has ever happened to me* but still I, for some reason, developed terrible fear of men. I'm afab and just did not want to be seen as an object, and it made, still makes me, terrified to think someone might look at me and have Emotions. I know that we can't control our brains, I mean, I can't look at someone and force myself to feel attraction - just like those who do feel attraction, can't force themselves to stop feeling attraction. They can only control their actions. But yeah, I also had horrible (sexual) intrusive thoughts due to my generalized anxiety disorder at some point, which did not really help. They got a bit better when I came into terms with my asexuality and aromanticism, but sometimes they still come at me and it's never fun, but at least they're not as strong as what they used to be.

*(Unless if you can count that as sexual harrasment when, CW, I was 11 and a classmate was "into" me and tried to touch my face and talk "sweet things" to me but made it into a show despite me being uncomfortable and usually crying cos as a neurodivergent I didn't know how else to react.)

But anyway, back to the topic. So for years I understood asexuality as sex-repulsion, but I guess it's because I, well, am a sex-repulsed ace. So if I'm sex-repulsed, why would I then look at someone and feel something if I'm repulsed by the thing anyway? Like, it probably can't get any simpler than this :D And I know today that it's not as simple anymore. But that was 2008, at school (in ~2005) they only talked about gays a little, on one page in a sex.ed. book that otherwise was maybe 100 pages long. Only one page. About gays. And it was basically "Some boys like boys or some girls like girls and it's totally fine." and that was it, but the overall assumption was that everyone likes someone. And also there were no romantic orientations. Liking someone = both sexually and romantically. Not liking = not a thing except when you were depressed or otherwise mentally ill, or autistic or mentally disabled (which is a SUPER ableist take btw). I don't remember teachers ever talking about this, but it could also just be my adhd, maybe they did mention, but I just don't remember. At least in my notebooks there is no mention of this, everything was very much heteronormative and amatonormative, and also there was only two genders. I don't remember ever hearing about transgender people, apart from foreign documentaries and in them they were always portrayed as some shocking freaks of the nature, and loads of wrong terms were used. And this is still the mid and late 2000s we're talking about!

So this takes us to the other part aka aromanticism. Back then asexuality was not only sex-repulsion but also merged together with aromanticism, because people didn't talk about romantic orientations yet. So asexuality was not only sex-repulsion, but also you simply just not wanting a relationship. Again, nothing about attraction, just someone who did not care about sex nor relationships. A "forever single", if you will.

This was already annoying me a lot back then because I was really annoyed by sex "running the world". I was so angry because why is asexual the only sexuality that doesn't like sex? All the other sexualities had the assumption of them always wanting to have sex. Like, even think about someone who is straight, you hear that someone is straight, and you automatically assume(d) that oh they're into sex too cos why wouldn't they be. This was really driving me nuts because I was sure there are people who want to have a partner, but never want to have sex! I was still experiencing crushes, and I knew for sure it was nothing sexual, so it annoyed me that just because I'm asexual, it means I can't have crushes. That's why I actually called myself as "asexual bi" for a while, because "bisexual" indicated I would have not been sex-repulsed and I wanted to point out that I'm NOT into sexual things, at all - and remember that this was still the late 2000s or early 2010s and I had not heard of romantic orientations yet! So I was up to something, there just were no terms for that yet! Today that would be called bi-/panromantic asexual.

I haven't been able to track the exact date or even year when did I figure out I'm aromantic, or when did I hear about romantic orientations for the first time. From the messages I've been able to find, I was already in my early 20s. Aka somewhere around maybe 2011-2013. In those, I have still been wondering what I am or if I even want to have a relationship, not being really able to tell what I wanted or didn't want. Again, no one told me romantic orientations are about ATTRACTION and not about whether you have commitment issues or not (this as a half-joke, cos I have severe commitment issues with everything :D I need to feel free!).

Anyway, I do remember my key moment with aromanticism, or the "aromantic awakening" as you could call it too, was when I was 17 or 18. Or maybe I was older? I don't know, I have time blindness. Anyway, I had this one online friend I had a "crush" on (I think it was just undiagnosed adhd's person hyperfixation) and I even told her about it. Everything just is super shady, from those years, I was not really on my best and there are so many overlapping memories that feel like different alternative universes instead of memories on a same timeline. Anyway, I just remember at some point thinking about this girl and I thought about some "romantic" stuff, like kissing, and I just remember my brain going "NOOOOOPE!" I had wanted to meet with her some day so bad, but when I started thinking about actually meeting with her, I started to nope the fuck out. All I had in my head was awkward embarrassing "first kiss" scenarios from movies and I just was not having it! I basically went "lol I guess I'm aro too, then XD" but I still don't remember when did I have this realization. Was I 17? Or was I, say, 22? I guess I need to go through my old MSN Messenger and Skype convos some day to investigate this further because I really want to know. I couldn't even find anything from my Tumblr from those times (I registered here in 2011), but I don't know if that's just me not tagging or Tumblr search functioning normally (aka it never finds anything).

But yeah, I am touch-repulsed. And kiss-repulsed, and romance-repulsed, too, (unless it's my OTP we're talking about). I'm still not exactly sure if I'm touch repulsed because I'm aromantic, or if I'm aromantic because I'm touch-repulsed. I only know that because of my sensory issues (I'm neurodivergent), I have never liked touching nor being touched. Even as a little kid I hated hugs and never liked sitting on anyone's lap. I only tolerated my parents, mainly my mom, because they were my safe place as an extremely shy baby/toddler/kid, who was especially wary about men. I can't explain the latter, but there was something about adult men that caused me (as a baby) to hide my face against my mom's shoulder if they talked to me. I did that to everyone I didn't know, but especially to men I didn't know. No idea why.

I also remember how my siblings loved to sit on people's laps and were always climbing onto their laps, and I didn't like this. And once my (late) grandma was so touched when she asked me if I want to sit on her lap (I was maybe 5-7?) and I agreed just to make her happy. I still remember how it felt, and I did not like it at all, but it still made my grandma so happy that I THINK she almost cried when she told my mom I actually agreed to sit on her lap. I'm not sure how real this last part of the memory is because I was so young. But I do remember thinking I do that for a change because I knew my grandma would be happy.

So yeah, my touch-repulsion is not exactly a new thing but just something that has been a part of my personality forever. But is that the core reason for why I only feel aesthetic attraction? I never look at people and feel like I wanna touch. More of the opposite, the idea of having to touch them or them touching me makes me go "eeewww". If you have seen that video of a gibbon shaking their whole body after seeing a rat in their exhibit? That's what I feel like when I think about touching or being touched, in just any way, also platonically.

The only time I feel "sensual attraction" is when I see photos or videos of animals. The urge to pet a tiger is insane. But the feel of another human's skin or muscle (or hair or whatever) is very repulsive to me.

I still remember how disgusting it felt to e.g. sit on a cousin's lap. We sometimes used swings like this, and somehow I was aware of it not feeling nice, but still not doing anything about it cos it also was okay? Only later I have realized I really, really loathe the texture of human skin. Or the warmth and overall feeling of a human body. For example, I was at least 7 or younger when I sat on my cousin's lap while we were sitting on a swing and STILL, after over 20 years, I have that all in my body memory. I remember how the thigh bone felt under my legs and how freaking disgusting the muscles felt inbetween. Also at school, on the 1st grade, we often had to walk in a line of twos after the teacher and hold the pair's hand so no one gets lost. My then-friend had so ridiculously dry skin that the only thing I could think of was how I felt like throwing up because the skin on her palm felt so damn disgusting. I still can feel that in my hand when I think of it. That's one of my "core memories" from 1st grade - how disgusting the human skin can feel like.

I don't think I have ever felt actual romantic attraction towards anyone. It's really difficult to differentiate because as I mentioned, I get those people hyperfixations easily. I guess it's the same hormones but I never really want to do anything with them? I guess it's the emotional intimacy that "attracts" me and what gets me excited, but I'm still not exactly sure what emotional intimacy means to me. I don't exactly fall into the QPR category either, in a way I wish I had a best friend whose best friend also I would be, and that neither would have anyone else who is "better" than the other one. But the only intimacy there would be emotional intimacy, nothing else. And I need my freedom so I wouldn't move in with any human being, either.

Sometimes I've thought my "ideal partner" would be a robot because if I get annoyed, I could just turn it off and stuff into a closet and leave there, and if I felt like not having a "relationship" anymore, I could just remove the harddrive and destroy the robot, or both. That way I would be the only one with the memories, and I wouldn't have to worry about someone out there knowing things about me, things that only the closest can know, and I'm really afraid of letting anyone close in case it won't work (also with regular friendships) because I can't stop thinking about how much I wish I had that MIB memory cancelling device so that they would again know almost nothing, or at least much much less about me. There's already one friendship that ended a few years ago and I still keep thinking about how I wish I could take everything back and how I wish they delete(d) all the files and drawings and stuff I sent them. There are so many things about me I wish I never told them, now as we are no longer friends. Back then it felt like "of course this is gonna last a lifetime!" but turns out that nope, not all friendships will.

I guess it's time to stop rambling. This post is really long already. If you read it all the way here: congrats. And thanks. You probably just wasted your time but... that's on you I guess :DDD But yeah, some thoughts from a 30-years-old aroace who has been aware of their identity for at least or almost 10 years now.