#maybe it's because I have been on a diet for a few months now

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I know crumbl is bad for workers and the calories are horrendous etc etc but tell me why I am obsessed with watching people eat it?

[searchingwardrobes]

I have been debating sharing this for some time, but with the new year weight loss ads amping up, I feel it's something I have to say. I'm worried for people's health.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably already know about people taking the diabetic drug ozempic for weight loss. You've probably heard the debates about the ethics of taking needed drugs away from diabetes patients and maybe even the side effect of "ozempic face." However, there is one side effect of taking these drugs that, in my opinion, people are not being warned about.

If you carefully pay attention to the television ads, you will hear them mention "pancreatitis" as a possible side effect. If you're like me a decade ago, that word probably means nothing to you. Let me warn you, however, it is no minor thing. My husband suffered from chronic pancreatitis for five agonizing years. The pain is beyond comprehension. Doctors who specialize in the pancreas describe it as the worst pain a human can endure. There is no actual cure. Little is understood about the disease, so treatment is difficult. Doctors who understand it are few and far between. It took my husband forever to get diagnosed. He went through multiple surgeries and procedures, but nothing worked. He had to go on an extremely limiting diet. If he varied from it in any way, he would have an attack. The only way to recover from an attack was to not eat at all for days, then slowly add in broth and jello. Did he lose weight? Yes. As a matter of fact, one day he stepped out of the shower, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. He was skin and bones - I could count every rib. Was it worth it to be thin? If you even ask that question, I'm concerned for your mental health.

They couldn't figure out exactly why my husband got pancreatitis. At that time, they thought only alcoholics and drug addicts got pancreatitis. This made it difficult to get compassionate medical care, unfortunately. Now they know that prescription medication (particularly diabetic medication) and high cholesterol can also cause it. Then there is another group - where they just don't know. But you better believe I would hesitate to take any medication that could cause pancreatitis. I would weigh my options carefully to assess if it was worth the risk. In my opinion, weight loss is not worth that risk.

My concern has been heightened seeing the Hers commercials for these drugs (under different names, but rest assured, it is the same thing). These commercials brag that you can get these drugs from Hers with just a simple virtual call, no questions asked. I wonder if people are fully aware of the risks of these drugs. I also wonder if we even know all of the risks yet. I also fear that the culture around these drugs could develop into an us vs. them mentality. That if it's so easy to be thin, why wouldn't you be? And some are getting dangerously thin on these drugs.

I know some diabetics who are on these drugs, and necessarily so. They tell me that it causes nausea when they eat. That's why they don't eat much. Again, that doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live. If you need it to regulate your blood sugar, that's one thing. But if you don't? Why would you do this to yourself?

My husband is now healed of pancreatitis. It was a miracle. You may not believe in that sort of thing, but I'm telling you, there is no other explanation. We had exhausted every medical solution, then the pandemic hit. We were concerned because hospitals were only taking life or death cases. What if he had a bad attack and needed an iv of pain meds? What would we do? Weeks passed - no pain. A month passed - no pain. Six weeks passed - no pain. He decided to grill a steak - something he hadn't been able to even take a nibble of in 5 years. I watched him take a bite, holding my breath. Nothing. He ate the whole thing. No pain. Five years later, still no pain. The doctors can't explain it, either.

So our story has a happy ending. Not everyone else's does. I hope people take the time to read this. If you do, please, please share it. I don't want anyone suffering needlessly.

[frecklenog]

i want you all to understand this.

insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.

the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.

lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.

i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.

to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.

this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.

we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.

here’s a masterpost of how you can help.

EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically

[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

+ comment if u wnna be added to the taglist

— 1/??

| next part >>

“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”

Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.

surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.

it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.

you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.

still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.

“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.

“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.

“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.

“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”

“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.

“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

…

“okay.”

she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.

“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”

you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”

┈ ⪩⪨   ┈

“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.

panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”

“my resignation notice, sir.”

“your what?”

he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.

he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.

‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’

“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.

you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”

“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.

‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’

“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”

“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”

“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.

the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.

during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.

officially, this was your last week working at the school.

when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.

‘looking for a nanny’

you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.

“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.

“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.

“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”

“i stopped. for three hours.”

you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.

“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.

“told ya’..”

“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.

“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.

“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.

“you got the experience.”

“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“

“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”

“that’s different.” you groaned.

“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”

you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.

“true.”

“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.

“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”

“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“sure.”

you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.

the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.

you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.

a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.

his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.

“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.

“yeah, i am.”

“great, come in.”

he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.

the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.

“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.

“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.

you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.

“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.

“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.

“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.

you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”

“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”

you paused, hesitant what else to say.

“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”

“yes, first and second grade.”

after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.

“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.

“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.

“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.

“hi.”

“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.

“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”

the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.

“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.

“does that mean, i got the job?”

“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.

“monday then.”

[jezabelle9299]

You're It for me S.R x FEM! reader

Overture- Your walking through a used bookstore when you spot an old magazine with your boyfriends face on the cover-- not for his academic ability

CWs- Comparison to Lila Archer, feeling replaceable, this is diet angst- I don't have the guts or skill for the truly heart wrenching, kissing

A/N- I was kind of picturing an early season 2 Spencer? Like they've been dating for a while, but like-- not more than maybe 2 years, so they're still a little bit nervous. Also this is the first of many things I'm doing this December so hopefully everything goes well and if you want to read any of the other things I'm doing you could do so HERE

Right in your favorite used bookstore, on top of some other old magazines, there it was. It caught your eye at first because of the vibrant photo— but when you stopped to look you saw a beautiful young actress rubbing her face onto your wonderful boyfriend's hand. You felt sick, but you pushed through it to buy the stupid thing so you could read it. 

You barely made it through the checkout line, pale as a ghost and wishing you’d never walked in there. Because why didn’t he tell you? The publishing date was only months before you started dating and he hated touch. Was this a long relationship? An intimate moment no one else was supposed to see?

By the time you got to your car you’d ripped the plastic covering off the magazine opening up the article about Lila Archer. You hadn’t really heard of her before, but she was gorgeous. The more you read about the ‘secret relationship’ between her and Spencer the more upset you got— until in one of the final sentences it said one of their reporters found them in a pool—fully clothed—making out. Spencer. Your germaphobic boyfriend who was nervous about so much as touching you in passing for your first 3 dates jumped into a pool to make out with someone he couldn’t have known for that long.

You sat on the couch in your apartment after a silent ride home. Spencer was supposed to meet you to spend some time together, he’d be landing any minute– but it was all you could do not to cry. It was before you were dating but you just felt– Insecure? Replaceable? You weren’t quite sure, but comparison stole your joy and left you with nothing but a sour mood and a boyfriend on his way to see you– one who was qualified to notice that you were upset nearly immediately upon seeing you. 

“Hey honey— I’m so glad I’m finally home. I’ve missed you so much.” He walked through the door, you’d told him so many times that he could come in without knocking– he even had his own key– and he moved straight to you. He leaned in to kiss you, but your lips were unrelenting, not soft like they usually were. You weren’t in the mood for romance right now and he wanted to figure out why. 

Not that you always had to be in the mood for physical touch, but usually when he got home from longer cases you were on him from the moment he walked through the door. He loved that— he missed that right now. 

“Is something wrong? Are you ok?”

“Yeah Spence, I’m fine.” You plastered on your best fake smile to no avail, only making Spencer more concerned in your efforts. 

“Did something happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing happened.” 

“I know you’re not telling me something. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.” Despite his words, his tone wasn’t accusatory at all. Only concerned. 

“I don’t need help— I just saw something that kind of… freaked me out is all.” You were really trying to downplay the effect that stupid magazine cover had on you.

“Did I leave one of my case files laying around? Oh honey I’m so sorry— I thought I picked them all up before I left.”He was wracked with guilt over something that didn’t even happen. 

“No Spencer it wasn’t that. It was a magazine? You were on the cover.” You thought he knew what you were talking about. I mean he’s been in a few science magazines for his academic ability, but nothing else like this. At least you certainly hoped not. 

“What magazine? From this month?” 

“No— it was a few months before we started dating. It was you and Lila Archer? I know it was before we started dating; and I know I have no right to be upset by it but it just— it just kind of took me by surprise, you know?”

“Oh. I forgot about that.” 

“You forgot about it? It said you were found fully clothed in her pool, and you just forgot?” You weren’t accusatory, just hurt—your voice was breaking by the end and you were still trying to look up at him. 

“It really wasn’t like that, I only knew her for a week— we were in LA because she was being stalked, I was supposed to be guarding her and she pulled me into the pool.” with just that one sentence he made it infinitely worse. He knew her for a week, and he wasn’t worried about her germs? What made her so different?

“You only knew her for a week?”

“Well–yes?” It was clear by the way he looked at you that he thought that would be a comforting notion. It was anything but. 

“On our first date you didn’t even want to touch me. You didn’t kiss me until we’d been dating for almost 2 weeks. I was perfectly fine with those things because I know you don’t really like touch but I need you to be honest with me about something. Do you just not like me as much? Because if you don’t that’s– well that’s ok. I mean I don’t want to be worried that you’re going to get a case in LA and find someone better.”

“Honey let me be perfectly clear– there is no one better. I love you more than anything or anyone on this Earth.” Spencer’s reassurance just wasn’t comforting you like it usually did. 

“Then–why? I mean do you just not think about me physically in that way?”

“I think the way I feel about you physically could easily be described as clingy and/or obsessed. You know this, sweetheart.” He held tightly onto your hands- rubbing the back of hand with his thumb

“Well now sure, but I honestly kind of thought you just weren’t attracted to me when we first started going out.”

“I was– and am for the record– extremely attracted to you. Some of my hesitance towards touching you was germ-based, but honestly I was just so ridiculously, extremely nervous around you that I was afraid to touch you and mess everything up.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, honey in case you hadn’t noticed you’re kind of it for me.” That feeling in the pit of your stomach finally subsided— giving way to the same feeling of love you always feel when Spencer wraps you in his arms. 

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[verypeanutgarden]

Ushijima would be the type to not know that he is a natural flirty person. He is completely clueless. Especially with you. Being the manager of Schweiden Adlers you have your challenges with his flirty actions. We are now in the volleyball court of Schweiden Adlers...

•••••••

"Ushijima?" You called.

He turns his head towards you, showing off his abs as he wipes the sweat off his chin. His cheeks, red from the training drill they have been doing for the past hour. He shifts his weight as hes full body turns towards you.

"Yes Y/n?" He replied, as he pulls down his shirt and stares down at you. His body, almost shadowing you. You space out until you snap yourself back to reality, you open your mouth to speak...

"Here is your work out plan" you show him your tablet and with the use of your pen you point out and draw what is needed.

"Starting next week monday, you will be doing more weights during your strength training, and we will implement more foot as well as speed training following friday and saturday training. Sounds good" as you explained you didnt realize the lingering presence behind you bend down and place his head near yours to view your tablet

"Sounds good, may I ask if my diet will change at all" he said bluntly as if your faces weren't mere inches apart. With a small blush forming on your cheeks you take a step away and reply a nope, then running off to the next player you need to discuss their workout with. Ushijima who has no idea of how his actions affect others stand there still confused as to why your behavior has been like this ever since you joined the Schweiden Adlers as the assistant coach.

"Ushijima" the voice behind him said. He turns to see kageyama. "We have to do stretching now." Said kageyama bluntly.

As they did their stretches Ushijima spaces out as to why you are acting this way. Which leads him to a ramen place with two of his team mates. Kageyama and Hoshiumi, they simply went because Ushijima said he would buy them anything they wanted. But what they didn't expect is for Ushijima to ask advice about women. It is good to note that none of the two hes about to ask advice from has no experience with women.

"Maybe shes just quiet?" Asks Kageyama "But shes loud with the head coach." Replied Ushijima.

They had just finished eating when Ushijima proposed the question, 'why were you distant with him, and him alone'. This ended with the three men with no experience whatsoever with the feelings of women to ponder why are you distant with him.

"Maybe she is feeling under the weather?" Kageyama asked, "For the past year?" Countered Ushijima. Which leads the two to hold their hand in their chin and ponder more.

"I mean, it makes no sense for her to dislike you because you have done nothing wrong to her" said Hoshiumi.

Which makes Kageyama nod along, the night goes on and they are left there at the ramen shop asking themselves why you didn't like Ushijima. When in reality it was the opposite, but they can't seem to quite understand that. As the night rolls the sky the two wave goodbye to Ushijima, with a solid goodbye and see you tomorrow the three split ways. Ushijima walking to his studio condo near the volleyball court, he still questions as to why you seemed to dislike him, until.

"Ushiwaka?" A familiar voice calls out. He turns to the voice and its Tendou. Ushijima waves and walks towards Tendou. An exchange of greetings, and they seem to catch the conversation they left off a few months ago.

"So how is that assistant coach of yours? Is she still working for your team?" Asked Tendou. With a nod coming from Ushijima, Tendou knew there had to be something bothering him. So his nose got to sniffing...

"Had a tough day? Seems like you're in thought, Ushiwaka..." Asked Tendou.

"I...just don't understand her..." Replied Ushijima in defeat as if his problems have won.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" Asked Tendou. "But what if she doesn't want to talk to me?" Replied Ushijima.

"Then corner her and ask her properly. Because it would be better than you to assume every thought she has." Said Tendou as a matter of fact tone. Ushijima simply nodded, as the night grew colder Ushijima and Tendou separated ways. Promising to tell each other when they would be in town. As Ushijima unlocks the door to his condo, he realizes he should talk to you and address this whole situation.

The next morning, Ushijima wakes up to his alarm that is set at 6 am, two hours before his training later. He gets up to make breakfast, a simple egg sandwich and then he changes into his clothes. Then goes to the gym to practice on his spikes an hour before training. As he walks into the gymnasium he notices a figure moving around the court, as he looks and enters further. He sees you. He notices the way his heart quickens with your every move. He notices the way his voice catches in his throat as you walk by. He was daydreaming until, he saw your figure wave towards him. Which has him wave back towards you.

Ushijima stays silent, this isn't the first time you have shown him kindness in silence so he decided to take the advice given to him last night.

"Y/n?" Ushijima speaks up. You freeze and turn your body towards him. You raise your eyebrows to him, "Yes?" You replied.

The air so dense around them, making it hard to breathe then Ushijima speaks.

"Y/n, I have to ask if I have done something to upset you...If I have I apologize if I have..." Ushijima trails off in thought, and pauses to wait for your reply. A moment passes and you still say nothing, he opens his mouth to speak again. Until you interrupt him,

"Ushijima, I'm sorry if I gave the impression that I hated you...I just..." You trail off with your words and can't seem to face him a blush forming on your cheeks you fidget with the bottom of your shirt, then you raise your head to look up at him until suddenly he is right in front of you. Bending down to meet your eye to eye, your lips just a few inches apart. If you were to simply take a small step forward, you would have your lips on his.

"Your red...are you coming down with a fever?" He asks as he places his hand on your forehead, your face turning more red.

"Y/n?" He asks. Even though he just says your name you can't help but fall harder for your crush.

"Should I bring you to the clinic?" You wave your hand in front of his face, and take a step back to walk away. But before you could turn you felt a grip on your wrist,

"Please don't turn away from me" he says with a pout in his eyes. Who could say no to him, with this it ended with you in the clinic with Ushijima right next to you.

But it would be an understatement that this would be the end of your story with Ushijima. Because one year from now you would be labeled his Girlfriend and soon to be Fiance, he already bought the ring.

Edit:

Authors note: If you would like to continue to follow me I also have an account on ao3!!! Same name and same work titles. Thank you everyone!!

[mandarinmoons]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gender neutral reader

Word count: ~ 600

Summary: Spencer breaks up with you after seeing how much his job at The BAU affected you as he didn’t want to be the cause of your declining mental health, but ending the relationship had the opposite effect on you than what he thought

Spencer lied on his bed as he stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to give into his desires of grabbing his phone and calling you because lord knows he’s the last person you’d want to talk to. He missed you terribly, but he knew you would be upset at him if he were to try and make contact.

The reason for that being is that Spencer forced himself to end things with you because he saw how his work life affected you. He’d lost track of how many times he’d found you fallen asleep behind his door for when he got home. He’d unlock the door and scoop you into his arms, his body shuddering from the cold that emanated from you. Or how he took notice of your thinning figure. You made sure that Spencer always had a full dinner platter whenever he got home, but he often saw you only finishing half of what was on your plate.

“I ate before you got home, I’m not that hungry,” is what you’d always say, but it didn’t stop Spencer from worrying.

After a few months of consideration, Spencer bit the bullet and tried his best to let you down easy. But unbeknownst to him there was never a way of doing things that way, because he was the love of your life and that day was the day you felt your heart break into so many small pieces that it would be impossible to mend it back together.

Spencer kept on imagining all of the ways you’d improve now that he wasn’t in your life. Maybe you’d learn to cook more or perhaps maybe you took on those yoga lessons you’d been dying to try out.

In reality though, you were having a hard time getting dressed and even harder time getting out of bed. You had your mother and friends check up on you daily to see how you were doing and every time you’d respond with “I’m okay,” when that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Half of the day was spent either lying in bed trying to read one of the last books Spencer had gifted you or being sat on the sofa while watching a crime show, the same show you’d watch while waiting for Spencer to come home, and now hoping that he’d magically come up to your door take you back.

A majority of the week's diet consisted of supernoodles and the occasional piece of fruit so you wouldn’t feel like complete crap. You’d chuckle to yourself bitterly as you’d remember a fact about the fruit you were having that was told by Spencer. Most of the time you didn’t understand any of the terminology he’d use, but you still loved to listen to him talk and as you ate away, you realized you’d never get to experience it again.

As much as it brought you a bit of ease whenever each day was over, it also brought along a bit of misery with it as it finally dawned on you that Spencer was really gone. He would never hold your hand again, he would never kiss your forehead again and you’d never hear the three words you loved most that came from his mouth,

“I love you.”

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[pedroshotwifey]

what about a drabble about a first date with logan who's trying so so hard to have manners and be a gentleman but he's nervous and keeps messing up and its so adorable and cute????? of course reader tells him to chill out and be his normal fucking self because that's who she likes. I felt so bad for him in a clip that's circulating on tiktok where someone says to him that he's not the kind of guy they'd take home bc that's only for good guys

Okay so I loved this so much and then I got excited ab writing Logan and it turned into more of a fic than a drabble, but here it is 😭

First time writing him so I hope it sounds alright! I did use a little something from the recent movie to add a bit of oomph to the ending. Again, thank you much for this request, it's so cute 🥰

Just realized I made it an f!reader insert, but if you want to message me, I can easily switch some things around and repost if you want a diff reader!

The Right Guy

Pairing: f!reader x Logan/Wolverine

W/C: 1.1k

Fluff/diet angst, Just a few F bombs here, nothing bad (they told me absolutely no coke)

******

You scold yourself as you check the small watch on your wrist for the tenth time in ten minutes. In your defense, the time is absolutely crawling by. Logan should be here for your first date in about five minutes, and you’re nervous as hell.

You’ve been crushing on him since you were hired at the mansion a few months ago, so since he asked you out a week ago, your stomach has been constantly swarmed by butterflies. He’s sweet, funny, carefree, but mature—and not to mention sexy as hell. You really don’t want to mess this up. 

Lucky for you, it seems that he feels the same. He tends to be a little more nervous around you, his blush more prominent when you tease him. It both comforts you and gives you confidence. He seems to genuinely like you for who you are. 

Because of that, you decided to wear your favorite dress for your date. He told you he’d be taking you to a restaurant, but didn’t get specific, so it was honestly the safest choice anyway. It’s one of those that could be casual just as easily as it could be fancy. A few well-selected pieces of jewelry can make a world of difference, after all. 

You glance in the mirror, and then back at your watch. It’s right as the long hand makes a round to signify that it’s two before seven that you hear a sharp knock at your door. You jump up from your seat, slightly startled. If anyone had been in the room with you, you'd probably be embarrassed. 

Thankfully, since you’re home alone, you ignore the scare and head for your front door. You take one more deep breath and pull on the knob to reveal your handsome date. You look Logan up and down, expecting his usual outfit—blue jeans, a white shirt, and either his leather or jean jacket. What you get instead, is a suit. You have to make a physical effort to not show your confusion. Okay, maybe you expected a nicer shirt or something—ironed jeans if he really wanted to go crazy—but a suit? 

“Oh, hey!” Unfortunately, it’s a bit harder to keep the confusion out of your voice. Don’t get it wrong, it’s nice of him to try to dress up for you, and he does look very nice, but he doesn’t look like Logan. Your eyes catch on his hair—the usual tufts you love so much look to be somewhat flattened by a gel. 

It’s while you’re distracted by this that he reveals a hidden hand holding a bouquet of flowers—your favorite, actually. So why do you feel almost…disappointed? No, that can’t be it. It’s so cute that he’s putting all this effort in for you, but you really just want the normal Logan.

“Oh, wow,” you say, trying to shake off whatever this strange feeling is. “Thank you, Logan.” 

You carefully accept the flowers and step aside to let him inside while you put them in water. It’s strange that he hasn’t said anything else yet. Wait, should you say something? No, he usually says something. There’s usually a joke cracked by now. It’s weird that he’s not, right? Ugh, maybe it’s you being weird? The awkward tension between the two of you is suffocating.

You’re almost disoriented with your overthinking as you move about your kitchen, pulling down a vase to fill with tap water. Logan, of course, notices. 

He softly clears his throat. “Everything alright?”

You set the vase down on your island and look at him, lips pursed. Should you say something? Well shit, he probably sees something wrong by now—you’re staring at him like you want to say something. Damn it. 

You open your mouth and close it again. How do you even say what you want to say though? 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you lie. Right to his face. 

You smile and walk back to him, trying your best to ignore the expression on his face. Great, now you’re being weird, too. Why the fuck is this weird? 

You breathe out as you close and lock your door, mentally prepping yourself for what you’re really hoping will be a good date. Logan’s waiting for you next to his—

Car? 

Where the fuck is his bike? 

Whatever—it doesn’t matter, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. It’s probably just in the shop or something. 

You give him a tight-lipped smile as you walk to the vehicle, and he opens the passenger door for you. You slide into the seat and wait for him to shut the door before exhaling again. This is all very sweet, but you’ve got to say something. 

You stare at him as he gets into the driver’s seat. Again, he notices. There’s a thick, momentary silence.

“Look, bub, whatever it is, I—”

“You’re not acting like you,” you blurt. 

He stares at you for a second, but you’re pretty sure he knows exactly what you’re saying. You’re pretty sure that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. 

“Logan, you don’t have to put on this show for me,” you say as gently as you can, though it comes out maybe a tad aggravated.

He lets out a slow exhale through his nose and closes his eyes for a blink. You feel bad pointing it out, but there’s no way you can go through a whole date with this stiff act. He opens his eyes back and you offer him a sympathetic smile, your hand reaching out to cup his jaw. He leans into your touch, his own hand coming to envelop yours. 

“I want to go on a date with the Logan I already know, with his bike, and his blue jeans—you move your hand to his hair, messing it up enough to loosen the gel hold—and his crazy ass looking hair.” 

He huffs a laugh, looking at you with tired eyes. You understand how much he must have stressed over all the little details he put in for you. 

“It was very sweet of you to do all this, but you don’t need to perform for me, Lo.” 

He nods slowly, taking a moment to think over everything. “It’s been a long time since I took a chance with somebody,” he confesses, his gruff voice holding an emotion that makes your heart ache for him. “I wanted to be the right guy for you.” 

Your stomach flips. “Logan, you are the right guy for me. You’re always the right guy.” 

Before he can say anything else, you lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips. Surprise halts him for a second, but he’s quick after to reciprocate, his lips moving slowly but passionately with yours. One of his large hands snakes behind you to cup the back of your neck, the other gently tilting your chin. 

You kiss until you’re out of breath, and when you pull away, you let out an airy laugh. Despite the suit, he looks like your Logan again. Wild hair, wild eyes, pink in his cheeks. 

“C’mon, Romeo,” you tease. “Let’s get that damn jacket off and order a pizza and beer.” 

[frantic-fiction]

Reunions

(Pic: lovelybluebirdie) I cropped it a bit

Astarion x gn!reader, Astarion x reincarnated!Tav

Summary: A few months after reconnecting to your past life as Tav, a party is set to meet the rest of the group. You're nervous, worried about not living up to who you once were. Will you be enough?

This is a little part 2 of I'll Find My Way Back to You

Notes/ Warning: Pretty much just fluff. Reader is insecure. Astarion is a supportive partner. I kept all 6 origin characters alive because it's my story and I don't want to imagine any of them dead. Also, Halsin's here cause druids live to be like a thousand or whatever.

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

You're not panicking. Why would you be? It's not like you're meeting a group of people you've only met in dreams—a group of strangers you've painted for the better part of your existence- a family forged through hardship from a past life you're still trying to remember fully.

No, you're not panicking. You're not scared that the people who are so excited to see you will not like what they see. You're not terrified the family Astarion has helped you remember will look at you disappointed once they realize you are no longer the Tav they once knew. You're not worried at all. Not. One. Bit.

You spent the afternoon cleaning the house from top to bottom. It was sparkling, and your fingers ached from the hours of scrubbing you filled in the restless day with. No surface was left untouched. Bookshelves were dusted, baseboards were spotless, and even the top of the cupboards, where no one would ever see, were wiped down. The floors were swept and mopped three times now, but you keep finding spots you missed. Astarion even physically stopped you from scaling the roof to clean the chimney when you ran out of things to occupy yourself with.

There's a roast in the oven, potatoes, and veggies cooking alongside it, and a pie cooling on the counter. You wanted to cook more, but you were worried that not everyone would like blueberries or that someone had turned to a plant-based diet. Astarion quickly reminded you that they used to eat food out of dusty barrels and mildewed chests.

Currently, you stand in front of your floor-length mirror. Astarion is out on a quick hunt before the party arrives, leaving you to obsess over your thoughts of inadequacy. The majority of your closet littered the floor. You're scrutinizing a simple tunic and legging combo. Was it too simple? Should you wear something more eye-catching?

You're trying to remember what Tav would have worn. All you can recall is blood-stained armor and simple camp clothes. But this occasion garners something more. Fuck. Stripping off the current outfit, you replace it with an almost identical one and look at yourself in the mirror again. You weren't sure what you expected, maybe to magically love this pair of pants and old tunic. But in reality, you were just as frustrated and worried.

The clothes weren't the problem, you knew that, but it was easier to be pissed at a blouse than to accept that you were scared. You were frightened to face Astarion and Tav's friends. You have Tav's memories and feel an odd kinship with these people. But you weren't Tav, and you would never be them, at least not entirely.

You felt like an imposter to try and convince anyone otherwise. Tears of frustration and disappointment in yourself began to trail down your cheeks. How could a silly artist hold a candle to the kind and heroic savior of Baldur's Gate? You glared at yourself, wishing things could have been different.

You jump when you feel cold arms wrap around your torso and a warm kiss at the nape of your neck. Astarion loved to use his lack of reflection to sneak up on you. You, on the other hand, hated it. Still, you found yourself leaning back into his firm chest.

"Hello, my love,"

You try to stop the pathetic sniffle, but it's useless. Astarion turns you in his arms and cups your jaw. "Darling," is all he says because he knows. Of course, he knows.

That simple pet name causes the floodgates to open, and you crumple into Astarion's chest, nuzzling his neck. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. Astarion lets you cry, knowing how nervous you've been for this meetup.

He rubs soft circles on the small of your back and peppers kisses to the crown of your head. "You can talk to me,"

"W-what if they don't li-like me?"

Astarion moves you both to the bed, skirting around the mess you made. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap to look you in the eyes better. "Why wouldn't they love you?" He prompts, not wanting to push you.

"Star, you know why. I'm not Tav," you hiccup, and you're positive the words you're speaking are incoherent. "I have their memories and some of their mannerisms and…and I'm also allergic to bees, but I'm not them. What if they hate me because I'm not Tav."

Astarion pecks your lips to halt your panicked words. He wipes the tears from your damp face. "No, you are not Tav, but they are part of you. They live in your art, laugh, and kind heart."

"But wha-"

"Let me finish, my love," Astarion smiles, brushing some hair behind your ear. "No one expects you to be Tav. We all love them deeply, but Tav's gone." He swallows hard, the words still hard to voice for him.

Astarion kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and continues to pepper kisses over your face, catching stray tears. "They just want to get to know the beautiful artist I fell in love with. Gale's big mouth might have let them know more about our history than I would have liked, but that doesn't change anything."

"And if they don't like the person you fell in love with?" You ask softly.

"Then fuck all of them. I love you, and if they don't love you as well, then they have no place in my life." His eyes pierce deep into yours, and there's no denying the truth of his words. You are overcome with a wave of love for your vampire and kiss him softly once more. "Now come, my love, by the smell, your roast is done."

"Shit!" You jump off his lap and rush out of the room, self-doubt pushed to the side.

*

The roast is fine if slightly burnt on the top. It looked juicy and smelled amazing. The vegetables are mush, but the potatoes are tender and seasoned well. It's not your best meal, but there's nothing you can do to fix it now. You left it on the counter to rest and found Astarion in the living room.

He was rehanging one of your paintings- the one you drew late last year after waking up in a cold sweat. It was a complete picture of the party standing on a dock overlooking the Grey Harbor just as the sun rose above the horizon. Astarion helps you fill in the gaps, telling you that this followed the fall of the Absolute.

"What are you doing?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall. You had hidden away most of your art, too embarrassed by the sheer number of canvases depicting the guest due here any minute.

Astarion finishes hanging the painting above the fireplace and turns to you. "I liked this one and thought I'd put it back."

Before you could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Your stomach instantly dropped, and your heart beat hard in your chest. As if sensing your rising anxiety, Astarion moved to your side, his large palm finding the small of your back.

He swiftly kisses your cheek. "One word and I'll throw them all out."

Astarion leaves you and walks to answer the door. Your palms are sweating, and you rub them down your thighs. You take a few deep breaths and pace the room. Not knowing what else to do, you idly fluff up the decorative pillows of the couch and stall.

"Pull yourself together." You mumbled under your breath. You hear the sounds of multiple footsteps, and you know they're all here.

Why did Astarion request for them to arrive all at once? You're still not sure. But you're suddenly very pissed at him for his decision. Having all of them looking upon you like an art exhibit terrifies you.

"My dear," Astarion pokes his head into the room, a warm smile adorning his sharp features. "Would you like to meet our guest?"

You swallowed hard and nodded. Putting on a brave smile, you rounded the couch and reached for Astarion's hand. Threading his fingers with yours, you curled around his arm like a lifeline.

Moving out into the foyer, you shyly look at the group before you. Gale, given the circumstances of your and Astarion's meeting, you had already met. He had relentlessly bothered Astarion until an introduction was made between you and the wizard. But you've only seen the others in the paintings you've made and the dreams you've seen.

Karlach bounced on her feet, Wyll smiling brightly behind her left shoulder. Haslin stood by the door, a beautifully sculpted wooden bear in his arms. Shadowheart stood beside him, her face passive but relaxed and almost pleased. Lae'zel was the farthest from the group, brooding in the corner, looking at you suspiciously. Still, she even loosened her tense shoulders and stepped forward upon your entry.

"Um, hi." You waved meekly, giving them your name, cringing when your voice cracked.

It's quiet for a moment too long, and you're a step away from fleeing when Karlach skips over to you.

"Can I hug you?!" She almost yells, shaking her fists excitedly.

"Karlach!" Astarion scolds. The Tiefling had, by the looks of it, broken a rule he had set for your comfort.

"Sorry, sorry." Karlach's smile fades, and she moves to retreat. Your heart clenches, and it's like your body moves on instinct. You detach from Astarion before you can think, and then your arms are around her waist. Her scalding heat seeps into your bones and listen to the cranks of her engine.

"Hi Karlach," you whispered into her torso. The wind squeezed from your body, and your feet were off the ground.

"It's nice to finally meet you! The letters fangs write didn't do you justice."

Quickly, the group connects like magnets. Wyll crowds in and hugs you from behind, pressing you closer to Karlach. Gale piles on after, then Halsin. Shadowheart nudges her way between the men and apologizes on behalf of everyone but gives you an equally tight squeeze. The group even wrangles Astarion and Lae'zel into this group hug.

These people are supposed to be strangers, but having them close, seeing this family you've watched through someone else's memories for most of your life right before you. It fills you with familiar warmth and affection and has tears of joy in your eyes. You might not be Tav, not entirely, but you still have a place in this little family.

"Um…excuse me, I can't breathe." You squeak out after a moment of suffocation, and the group is quick to disperse.

Wiping away the lingering dampness from your cheek, you take a moment to compose yourself, clearing your throat with a subtle grace. Your hand instinctively finds its way back, and Astarion swiftly recovers it, his touch reassuring. Soft circles dance on the back of your hand, a silent question lingering in his gaze, seeking affirmation that you're all right. You respond with a nod and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"Ah, well…" you chuckle with a hint of self-awareness. "I have a roast with everyone's names on it. And a blueberry pie; Astarion found a wild patch on one of his hunts."

"Thank the gods, I'm famished," Wyll sighs, his appetite evident as he sniffs the air dreamily. A nudged Karlach sets the communal movement toward the dining room in motion.

Astarion emerges with the wine, gracefully pouring glasses of red for everyone. Gale, the sole visitor to your home beforehand, takes charge of the table settings. With a flick of his fingers and a whispered incantation, plates and silverware align harmoniously. The stage set, the food emerges, and the night takes flight.

It feels like a cinematic scene picking up where it had once paused, a seamless continuation. Laughter weaves through the air, stories unfold, and even the occasional argument dissolves into a chorus of joyous laughter. Though new and fresh, the conversation flows as naturally as breathing. Strangers evolve into friends, and amidst the clinking of glasses, a familial bond begins to sprout. Tav was indeed fortunate to have these beautiful souls around.

As the night bids farewell and everyone departs, you find solace curled up against Astarion. His voice, a gentle undercurrent, softly reads from his newest book, and you gaze up, fixated on the beautiful man before you. A silent expression of gratitude graces your lips, an unspoken acknowledgment directed at Tav. Thanks for giving you a family and the love of your life.

Astarion's fingers scratch your scalp, tenderly coaxing your eyes closed. "What are you thinking about, little love?"

"Just how lucky I am."

"I would argue I'm the lucky one, but I suppose we can share," he smiles; he continues to read to you and massage your scalp until you're puddy against his body, sleep having all but consumed you. The night settles into a tranquil symphony, the warmth of shared love lingering in the serenity.

Okay I know it was a bit cheesy, but I needed so fluffy shit today. Anyway, tell me what you thought I love talking with y'all.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna, marina-and-the-memes

[hispanthicc]

Things I Like About Being A Guy That Got Fat On Purpose.

I think after my last text post I should post something more positive in relation to weight gain. I have been gaining or at least trying to for several years but it wasn't until the pandemic that I really started to grow.

I am now about 210 ish, it fluctuates but it doesn't go lower than that. I'm also like 5'7 so i look 230+.I wear a size 38 x 32 in pants... but I might actually be at 40. I was wearing XL's in shirts but over the past 3 months I've been wearing XXL's. I do go for looser clothes otherwise L-XL would be fine. I think looser just works for me cuz I have generalized anxiety disorder and I need to feel like I can breathe so the looser the better. It's kind of funny how huge that sounds because the fit on my clothes is very regular despite my description of it being loose. I also feel like the way looser shirts drape over my body my boobs look a lot bigger, I mean they are but it's not so obvious when I’m shirtless but it's very noticeable when I’m clothed. I'm kinda self conscious but i've also gotten to the point where I don't really care. I also like that i'm wearing the last size that a lot of stores carry (which is probably going to be really annoying soon). I bought from a plus size store twice this year (it's still 2024 as of writing this) Once when buying a suit for a friends wedding and then I bought some random sweater. both fit and looked really good on me.

I feel more confident the bigger I get. I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe I just feel more sure of myself. Maybe when you're bigger you *have* to be more sure of yourself. I also think that after making content for so long I just dgaf about a lot of things. There really isn't anything that someone can say to me thats gonna make me not like myself or getting bigger. It's just kinda who I am now.

This is a somewhat recent observation and maybe it's a healthy one but, A lot of times as a gainer you are comparing yourself to other gainers. So you may be thinking things like "oh he eats so much more than me", or "I wish I was that big", or "I wish my capacity was bigger." however, if you compare yourself to someone who isn't a gainer you'll feel a lot bigger and you'll realize how you're eating like 5x more than a regular person, and doing so very easily. Regular people aren't eating whole pizzas, half a dozen burgers, liters of soda regularly. Regular people are likely trying to fit within a 2500 calorie diet range. A lot of gainers eat that before lunch lol. The first time I noticed this (I don't get out much) is when I was out with my friends a few months ago, we went to the movies, then dinner after. We went to an indian restaurant which obviously meant there was a lot of food. I really enjoyed it and I ate a lotttt but everyone else got full very quickly and had to get a to go box. I was the only one that didn't lol. (I need fat friends, or gainer friends irl, ik that's not possible for me rn tho).

Another thing is that people will want to cuddle you. You're just automatically considered to be more cuddly or huggable. People also seem to wanna squish me lol. one of my friends has rubbed my belly while cuddling in the movie theatre several times he's also grabbed my boobs so many times. so that's fun.

there's probably more things. lmk if I should write more. I’m gonna end this here. cuz i'm writing this on 0 sleep lol.

[heartkaji]

lose it !

(n) — suo hayato only eats numbers

tw: ed ! please read comments !

you unlock suo hayato’s phone in aim of finding messages from other women; pictures from other girls or maybe even men.

instead you find a calorie app & the notes of a dead man walking.

suo hayato eats eight hundred calories a day.

for breakfast he logs coffee, black. no sugar or milk or anything because what is he, an animal ? lunch is rice cakes & hot sauce & cucumber as a snack but dinner is empty because it’s already 7pm & only fatties eat beyond seven so suo must wait till 12pm tomorrow before food can find his throat again.

suo hayato only eats numbers.

your heart breaks a little more as your fingers scroll further through his notes & logged meals. tuesday reads ‘no lunch, make up for extra cals from donuts with sakura’ & wednesday is empty because ‘water fast’. suo hayato is a disciplined boy but every log ends with ‘resist or regret’ but fuck this is unhealthy & why does suo resist himself an essence to live ?

“love, have you seen my phone ?”

you don’t realize your eyes are hot with tears until suo cups your cheeks in cold palms, eyes almond & scanning your own as if they’ve just seen a ghost. you press your body against his own & god he is so frail, you have never realized it before but now it’s so apparent & fuck if you let your mind wander any further you might become a woman half dead too.

“suo, i don’t want you to die,”

& suo hayato only sighs, because if only you knew he’d died a long time ago.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, edit, translate or reupload

a/n : this is a serious topic, so please forgive me for this serious message.

my heart goes out to all the wintergirls & boys out there. the ones who go to bed fantasizing about what they’ll eat tomorrow & get moody when their one meal a day doesn’t hit the way it’s meant to. my heart goes out to all the girls & boys who watch mukbangs & cooking shows in order to drown out the growling in their stomach. the ones who flip their chip bags to the back on instinct & would rather die than eat a plate of waffles & syrup. my heart goes out to everyone who exercises all they eat, who sleeps & drinks away their hunger & ties their hair & clenches their throat every time they step in the bathroom after a meal. recovery is a bitter pill but you can only heal when all the pills have been swallowed. it is worth it. eating disorders kill & no you don’t have to be underweight or anorexic or ‘atypical’ anything because just a few months of calorie counting kills your mind & after long enough it will kill you too.

your body is worth so much more than coke zero & greek yoghurt & sugar free jello. recovery is real & it may take years before you are full of it, but everyday gets at least a little better when you are not eating yourself to the brink of death.

i am not the best at these kinds of messages, but i hope some winter girl or boy reads this message & thinks to themself, i am enough, not because you are under 110 pounds but simply because you are. your body is so much more than stretch marks & loose skin or arm fat & the likes. your body is yours & you are enough.

my heart beats for all of you because if you are not careful, it will not be able to beat for itself. i beg of you, choose to recover & please choose it today. why follow wonyoung & monster high diets when you are already so heart-achingly beautiful ? recovery is never easy, but it is worth it & so are you.

ps: so sorry for writing such a serious topic for such an unserious anime, but someone might need to hear this & that someone might be you. yes yes im aware suo is only on a diet because he’s a monk or something, but i know his little eating habits can be so triggering to watch to some & i just wanted to let you all know that it will be okay.

gosh why do i feel like such a monster for writing this

[wigglywormy]

unexplored territory [bakugou/deku, 2.3k, nsfw]

first prompt request! thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it xoxo (also cross posted to ao3!)

warnings: nsfw, light dom/sub, frottage, nipple play, minors DNI

-----

Izuku isn’t always amazing at things on the first try, while Katsuki on the other hand seems to catch on to everything so quickly and with such ease. Perfectionism at least is a quality that they both share, so even when Izuku fails in the beginning, he refuses to quit until he can do it with his eyes closed. Breaking his fingers, breaking his arms, breaking the plethora of bones in his body trying to master his quirk was easy, because the drive to make the quirk his own was such a powerful motivator. Well, maybe not easy, but the motivation deep within his core truly was the biggest push he needed. 

Staying up all hours of the night studying for exams, spending hours upon hours in the gym to perfect his body to handle his quirk and whatever else comes his way, and attempting to keep a steady and healthy diet are mindless tasks now, ingrained in his blood and expertly learned and honed. 

Which is why, Izuku thinks as his hands slip underneath Katsuki’s tank top, this particular task is so…. daunting. 

They’re still in the new stages of dating, slowly melting away all of the awkwardness of first kisses and hands touching hands, and even though it’s only been a few months, Izuku is frustrated that he’s not an expert at Katsuki’s body yet. He’s stupidly determined to change that. 

“Izuku,” Katsuki grumbles from his position on the bed, sprawled flat on his back with his notebook held up in front of his face, “Cut it out. We literally graduate in a fuckin’ month, we have to study for our final exams.”

Izuku swallows thickly from his place hovered over the blonde, his hand pausing where it’s pressed over Katsuki’s stomach. “We’ve been studying for hours, Kacchan.”

Katsuki scoffs, “And? You gonna tell me if I sit you down right now and quiz you, you’ll ace every subject I throw at ya?”

Izuku pouts. “It’s not good to cram too hard. Can we just take a break?”

“And do what?” Katsuki replies mindlessly, going back to flipping through his notebook. 

Izuku slides his hand higher, Katsuki’s tank getting bunched up further until his pink nipples are exposed to the warm air in the dorm room. Katsuki shifts a bit, but doesn’t push him away. He also doesn’t put down his notebook either, so Izuku bites his lip and takes it as a green light. 

Katsuki’s body is something out of Izuku’s wet dreams, really, and after they got together, once Izuku was allowed to touch, he decided to make it his new mission to figure out exactly all of the ways to make Katsuki tick. 

He’s already discovered the spot behind Katsuki’s ear that makes him gasp, the spot right in the dip of his throat that, when Izuku latches on and sucks, causes Katsuki’s fingers to spasm and his breath to stutter. He’s figured out that Katsuki doesn’t really like the back of his neck touched, but he loves when Izuku drags his nails sharply down his spine when they are kissing. 

He’s honestly discovered a lot about his boyfriend’s body, but there’s so much territory that’s currently unexplored, and it’s driving Izuku mad. 

They haven’t really gone past making out and hand jobs, and Izuku tries not to get too handsy since he’s not really sure what kind of boundaries there are at this new, fresh stage in their relationship, but Izuku’s been watching. He’s been analyzing, calculating, and watching. He notices how Katuski’s breath hitches when he’s cold and his shirt rubs against his chest, nipples hard and poking out beneath the fabric. He’s noticed how Katsuki’s hips twitch up when they’re making out on his bed and Izuku’s hands drag up his chest, over his pecks. 

It’s time to test his theory, and see what kind of reactions Katsuki will give him. So Izuku can see if this is another discovery he can add to his ever-growing list of everything Kacchan. 

Izuku situates himself so he’s straddling Katsuki’s thighs, and though he can’t see the blonde’s face behind his notebook, he sees how Katsuki’s fingers clutch at the pages just a bit tighter. Izuku has his tank top bunched all the way up to his armpits now, pale muscular torso on full display, and Izuku’s mouth nearly waters as he zeros in on those cute pink nipples, just begging to be touched. 

He takes it slow, dragging both hands up along the curve of Katsuki’s waist, and at the first brush of his thumbs against his nipples, Katsuki jerks so hard he drops his notebook. The pages flutter as it bounces off the bed and onto the floor, and now Izuku can fully see how pink Katsuki’s cheeks have become. 

Oh, okay. Yeah, Izuku is going to get a lot of research done tonight. Katsuki is his favorite subject, afterall. 

“Izuku,” Katsuki growls, low and quiet, almost like a warning. Izuku happily ignores him, thumbing his nipples a bit more firmly this time, and when his nail catches against the skin, Katsuki straight up squeaks. 

“Jesus - calm down,” he manages to grit out through his teeth, but his hands have come down to clutch at Izuku’s thighs, and his gaze has darkened the way it always does before they fool around. 

“Have you ever had your nipples played with before, Kacchan?” Izuku asks quietly, massaging his pecs with large, calloused hands. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Katsuki snaps, and then softer, quieter, “You… you know you're my fuckin’ first. Or whatever.”

First kiss, first boyfriend, first love - Izuku feels his heart swell that’s he’s managed to collect so many things from Kacchan. It makes him so happy his heart could very well burst. 

But - first, he needs to focus. Katsuki’s eyeing him curiously, and so Izuku settles more firmly on his hips before gently, so gently, fluttering his fingers over the sensitive nubs. 

“What - ah, f-fuck,” Katsuki chokes out, and the startled laugh that escapes his lips makes Izuku pause. 

“Sensitive?” Izuku asks with delight, because he knew deep down they were, but he didn’t know that Katsuki’s chest would also be ticklish. 

“Just - do it harder,” Katsuki grumbles out, not meeting Izuku’s gaze. “None of that gentle shit.”

Izuku happily ignores him yet again, scraping his nails feather light around the pink buds until Katsuki’s full on squirming beneath him, lips twitching on a smile as he tries not to laugh. His hands dart up to grab Izuku’s wrists, but Izuku is quicker, snatching the blonde’s hands up in one of his own and pinning them above Katsuki’s head. Izuku’s hand is large, and able to wrap completely around both of Katsuki’s wrists to keep him in place, which is nice because it allows him to have a free hand to continue his exploration.

“Are your nipples ticklish, Kacchan?” 

“No - ”

His words are cut off with a gasp when Izuku leans down, flicking the tip of a tongue gently across his left nipple, and Katsuki’s back arches up, his body trembling as he chokes on a giggle - but then moans when Izuku sucks on the bud firmly. 

“Ah - mmm,” Katsuki moans, and Izuku notices his cock throbbing in his sweatpants. 

“You’re so cute,” Izuku teases, enjoying the way Katsuki’s cheeks flush at the compliment. He’s still firmly holding Katsuki’s wrists above his head, and he uses his free hand to trace his fingers softly along the side of Katsuki’s chest, squeezing his pec before dipping dangerously into the hollow of his underarm. That has Katsuki snorting softly around a surprised laugh, and Izuku notes with glee that his hips grind up at the same time. 

Oh, he likes this? Izuku mentally notes that in his head. 

“Izuku - fuck cut it out!” Katsuki’s voice is shaky, his head turned to hide in his shoulder as Izuku continues to drag his fingers teasingly across his chest, tickling at his nipples, the sides of his ribs, dipping into his armpit before coming back to those pert, hard, sensitive nipples. Izuku can feel Katuki’s cock pulse, his hips grinding up unconsciously.

“I wonder if you can come like this,” Izuku muses, “I wonder - how would a feather feel? If I just… tied you up, tickled your nipples for hours until you couldn’t take it anymore. They’re really sensitive, huh?”

“Shut - sh-shut up.”

“Hm - we don’t have any feathers - oh!” Izuku exclaims, releasing Katsuki’s wrists to lean over, digging around in the bedside drawer before pulling out a small vibrator they like to play with occasionally. Izuku’s only used it on their cocks before, but he’s so curious - 

“Don’t you dare,” Katsuki groans. 

“Hold onto the headboard,” Izuku commands softly, and Katsuki swallows and does as he’s told. 

When he turns it on, Katsuki visibly tenses up, his gaze growing dark, and when Izuku gently grazes his nipple, Katsuki’s entire body arches up, his arms shooting down to shove the toy away as he shrieks. 

“Oh my g - f-fuck!”

It’s like music to Izuku’s ears, the strained laughter and desperate gasp that the blonde lets out. 

“Arms up, Kacchan.”

He grumbles but does as he’s told, fingers gripping the headboard so hard it creaks, and he bites his lip as Izuku lowers the setting on the vibrator before pressing it back to his nipple. The reaction is instant, Katsuki wriggling aggressively underneath Izuku, and finally after a few moments, Izuku hears little broken giggles from Katsuki’s mouth. His eyes are squeezed shut, beads of sweat popping up on his forehead, and when Izuku uses his other hand to pinch and roll his other nipple, the blonde cries out a shaky moan. 

“Ah - ahah - Izuku it’s - fuck, I c-can’t - ”

“Does it tickle?” 

Katsuki’s face burns. “Fuck off - yes, ahahah! You fuckin’ asshole - !”

“Does it feel good?” 

Izuku rolls his hips down, grinding their arousals together, watching at Katsuki’s mouth parts and eyelids flutter with pleasure. He switches the vibrator to the other nipple, and darts back down to flick his tongue ticklishly over the other one. Katsuki’s shaking violently, as if his body has no idea how to handle the sensations, and when Izuku thumbs the vibrator up to a higher setting, he nearly groans at the shriek of laughter that fills the room. 

“God - you drive me crazy,” Izuku groans, “You’re so cute, I can’t believe your nipples are so sensitive.”

“I c-can’t help it,” Katsuki whines, and his fingers are turning white with how hard he’s trying to keep his arms up. When Izuku drags his fingers back into the dip of Katsuki’s armpit though, the blonde can’t hold out any longer, and his arms dart down to grip Izuku’s wrists. The action simultaneously causes the vibrator to press harder onto his nipple, and Izuku bites his lip, drunk off of the moans and laughter coming out of his boyfriend’s mouth as he squirms helplessly against the bed. 

“Oh - nng - Izuku, Izuku, I’m - ahahah, g-gonna -!”

“You gonna come like this?” Izuku says in a low, deep voice as he grinds harder against Katsuki’s lap. His fingers are trapped now in Katsuki’s underarm, fingers fluttering sporadically as he circles the vibrator torturously over a nipple. This time, when he darts down to lick, bite, suck at the other nipple, Katsuki screams, gasping on a sob as broken laughter forces its way out. It’s so much, too much, but Izuku’s feeling mean, so he hums against sweat-damp skin as he flicks the vibrator to the highest setting, pressing it right over the sensitive bud. 

Katsuki’s covering his face now, embarrassed tears leaking out from under his trembling palms, and with one last roll of his hips, he’s coming, body going taut like a live wire as Izuku tickles and licks him through his orgasm. 

“Stop - st-stop,” Katsuki gasps, and Izuku tosses the vibrator to the side in order to bring both hands to Katsuki’s chest, teasing those cute nipples, grazing down his sides, pinching at his hips and trailing back up again to squeeze his pecks as he feels the blonde’s cock twitch and throb, his sweatpants growing damp through his release. Katsuki paws at him weakly, tiredly giggling and whining as the overstimulation short circuits his brain.

“Ahaha - ah, p-please,” Katsuki writhes, clutching at the front of Izuku’s shirt as the boy leans down, kissing and nipping up the side of his neck. Katsuki’s strained laughter is right in his ear now, and Izuku groans loudly as he brings a hand down to squeeze his own cock. 

“Just  - fuck, just a little more, Kacchan, you can take it, right?”

It’s less of a question and more of a demand. Izuku pants wetly into Katsuki’s neck, one hand rolling a nipple between his fingers as his other squeezes his own arousal, and finally, when Katsuki’s sobbing and babbling nonsense into his ear, Izuku finally comes with a loud groan, pressing his forehead to Katsuki’s temple as he rides out his orgasm. 

“Jesus - fuckin’ quit it,” Katsuki whines, finally batting away the hand that’s still teasing his oversensitive nipples. Izuku mumbles out a half-hearted apology and sits up, smoothing his palms firmly over Katsuki’s chest to soothe the blonde’s trembling nerves. After a few moments of catching their breath, Katsuki’s eyes flutter open, and he looks utterly debauched. 

“Holy crap,” Izuku mumbles, leaning down to kiss the blonde deeply, cupping his face in large hands and wiping his tear tracks away with his thumbs. He has so much content to add to his Kacchan folder now. 

“So much for a break,” Katsuki grumbles, shoving Izuku off of him and splaying his limbs out tiredly. “Now I need a goddamn nap, you fuckin’ menace.”

“Sorry?” Izuku offers, but they both know he’s not actually sorry at all. “I didn’t know your nipples were so - ” 

He’s cut off when Katsuki shoves a hand in his face, his cheeks glowing pink. “Shut up, oh my god.”

“Kacchan’s so cute,” Izuku coos, voice muffled beneath his boyfriend’s palm, “I wonder where else Kacchan is sensitive?”

Katsuki just groans loudly and shoves a pillow aggressively over his face to hide his blush. 

God, Izuku is going to be the death of him, he swears. 

[fishyvamp]

I think Tarhos, Trapper, Danny, frankly all of the killers really, would come with me to my doctors appoitment and threaten the doctor if they weren't taking my issues seriously, love them for that

This hits close to the chest, doctor's ignoring signs brushing you off. Suddenly your notes include hypochondria, history of severe mental illness, or some other way to discredit you for every cynical half assed doctor who sees your notes. Maybe not every killer, but enough of them for sure and these are violent and passionate killers. If you are their world, oh boy the doctor better hope that they only piss the one off who isn't stab happy dump their body in the woods kind of person.

Just for my sanity and so I can live vicariously through my own writing this will take place in a modern!AU though if you want a more period accurate one I'd indulge.

Evan Macmillan, The Trapper, is from one the most influential families in the city. What the fuck do they mean his doll is a lazy and should lose weight?! You're trying everything to get better, but you can barely get out of bed. Your limbs feeling like lead most mornings. He shows up holding your hand as he listens to the doctor adress him and not you. Telling him, not you that it's all about diet.

Evan Macmillan is short tempered, he tries to hard to control it, but the fact that the doctor is talking to him and not you and asking him for the information has him screaming at the doctor as you try to calm him down. The man is seeing red, hating himself for prioritizing the work at the mine instead of your health. If the doctor doesn't agree to at least test Evan will make sure the doc is blacklisted to hell and back, because you don't deserve to live like this without at least answers.

Tarhos Kovács, The Knight, is a veteran, turned mercenary, who enlisted way too young. He's seen too many fall apart from neglect and you are his world. He knows you are trying and he knows you want to get better. Your eyes full of tears whenever you come home a new bottle of pills in a brown paper bag. You hurt all the time, your head hurts all the time. Days on end in bed, you feel bad that with little time he is home is spent with him caring for you. Surely he would want someone less broken.

One too many times this has happens and he's driving to the doctors office leaving you at home just so he can yell at someone. The doctor would be preferred, but he'll settle on an administrator to threaten and scream at. They haven't done any scans ever for you and you've dealt with this longer then you have known him. It hurts him to know that you're being ignored. For some strange reason you get a call saying the doctor wants scans on the book for a more comprehensive look.

"Jed Olsen", The Ghostface, is silent rage kind of guy. You insisted that he didn't need to come. You're still freshly dating only a few months, but he knows your ill and knows you've been ignored Everytime you've asked for help. You're afraid he's going to scream at the doc make a scene and just generally be embarrassing. You know he's angry, he's got that look in his eye that You've only seen when he said he had business to take care of weirdly smelled of bleach the next day. However that didn't happen instead you watch him pull out a thick pocket journal opening it up.

Turns out he's been monitoring you closely and that smart watch he got you was him preparing for this. He starts rattling off any and every unusual thing he's noted and is even willing to give a copy to the doc to go over. Hard to say it's in your head when the details are all written down. The doc says he needs to look over it to figure out what tests he wants to run but there was enough there for him to justify it. "Jed" is just happy to see that look of relief on your face knowing that something might finally happen even if there is no cure at least you're a step closer to finding out what it might be. He also starts taking your vitals more openly now that his secret is out.

Philip Ojomo, The Wraith, has been ignored enough time himself to know who is the right doctor to go to. Someone who will actually listen to you, someone who looks horrified as you explain why you just stopped trying to figure out what is wrong with you. Philip doesn't care how far the two of you have to travel for you to get proper care, he'll take work off to drive hours to get you to a specialist. He doesn't see it as a chore, he loves you and this; this is just him caring for the one he loves more then the air itself. He'll even carry you inside when you inevitably pass out on the drive home.

[brucewaynehater101]

I think that prior to Tim being found out as a spider demon, only Cass had good thoughts about Spiders. And maybe Damian but in more of a "don't kill it, you put it in a cup and move it to the garden" kind of way. Dick *hates* them and Jason had a bad experience with Beast Boy using the form of a spider the size of a dinner plate to jump scare him when he was still Robin.

As for how he makes his silk, i once saw a design of a spider demon that had two black dots at the corners of its mouth and when it pressed a finger to the dots and pulled them away, a line of string was hanging between their finger and the dot. I think his thread looks like normal spider thread (including the size) but is durable enough that only a few strands can stop a charging Bane. It's possible for him to take the silk he produces and turn it into thread and from thread into fabric. The fabric moves and feels like high quality silk but is about twice as durable as Kevlar due to how strong his threads are.

The only reason all of the Bats aren't already decked out in full Tim Silk Gear is because of the sheer amount of time and energy it takes to make that much thread. If he uses all of his spare time to make thread and turn it into fabric as quickly as he can, he would only make 2 or 3 fabric napkins in a month. If he was only eating, sleeping, and making silk he could produce a single sheet about the size of a picnic blanket in the same amount of time. Not exactly a lot of fabric to work with. Plus there's the fact that his thread is very weak by the standards of his species due to a mixture of malnutrition, constant exhaustion, and frequent injuries.

However, most of his family does have at least one thing that he made with his thread for them. They have no idea what kind of fabric it is that Tim brings them things made of and when asked if he can get more, he simply shakes his head and says, "I wish I could, but farming to much of the material needed to make this stuff can seriously harm the type of creature that creates it. I'm keeping it vague so that you guys don't try to buy it yourselves. The person I get this from have been very, *very* heavily researched to make sure that it's done in a humane way. Basically anywhere else you find this stuff is almost garenteed to be horribly mistreating the creatures to force them to produce as much as physically possible. And I got my guys entire stock just to make this for you." This throughly covers his tracks and makes it so that the Bats won't consider trying to buy more silk from other sources. Most of the things he makes for them are small, like gloves or Domino Masks or at most an under shirt to give them an extra layer or protection. Cass's whole cowl is made of Tim's Silk.

As for what kind of malnutrition Tim has, the Bats already knew about that, sort of. John saw Bruce's new gloves and after feeling them asked where the fuck he got that much Jorogomo Silk and why it's such Shit Quality. When Bruce asked for him to elaborate, Constantine ran his hands over the gloves a few times while muttering to himself before sighing, "Malnutrition. Their silk is a direct reflection of their health. Whoever made this, they have *not* been eating well. Probably only just enough to survive and with no... well, you'd probably be glad to hear that the one who made your gloves hasn't been chowing down on an human flesh. But it's an important part of their diet. Yeah, this one seems to have been trying to use supplements for the shit it needs, but that'll never truly work. Like you can take all the vitamins tablets ya want, but unless you go out and soak in some sunshine every now and then you'll always be deficient in Vitamin D cause your body just won't process it. If I were you, I would get in contact with your seller and get them a deal with the local mourge. After all, you're from Gothem. I'm sure no one would notice if a few of the already dead disappeared."

That night Bruce had an uncomfortable conversation with Tim about how his seller might not be as good as he thought and what Mourges tended to "loose" bodies most often. Tim did start eating some from the already dead but he hates it. Not because hes eating people but because they've been dead for a while and only fresh bodies taste good.

As for Jack, he goes into a coma until Tim gets there and he uses some of his threads to make Jack his puppet. However, Tim doesn't have any practice with preserving the bodies of his puppets yet so after about a month, Jack is starting to fall apart a little so Tim sets up for him to be part of a car crash and makes a new puppet to be Uncle Eddie. The second puppet does last longer, but only about 2 and a half months and then Tim eats what's left of Uncle Eddie. Maybe one day he'll be able to make puppets that last for years like his mom did, but not just yet.

Also she isn't dead and does stay in contact. She just got bored of her life as Janet Drake and ditched her puppet, telling Tim "here's my new number and new name and the puppet of your father. Good luck kiddo." And Tim was like "YOURE THE BEST MOM" because really, by their standards she is. Most of his species are completely abandoned once they can walk, hide themselves, and produce silk. Most don't have any idea who their parent or parents are at all.

Ooh! The way you made his silk OP but then put in a very realistic limitation was cool as hell.

I'm also curious how the Bats would feel about Tim needing to consume human flesh. If Red Hood is still killing, it would he super cool of him to offer up some of the people he murders. Hopefully that will be a bit fresher and better tasting for Tim.

Also, would Alfred try to cook food for Tim's diet? Or would that be too much for Alfred to handle so he refuses to cook human flesh?

If Tim or someone else cooked that food (post-reveal), they probably would have to build an entire kitchen just for him. They wouldn't want to cross contaminate that since it could make the humans really really sick.

You mentioned that Tim doesn't hate consuming flesh. Does he have any reservations about it? Are there parts of his being that he hates for not being human enough?

At least Bruce doesn't seem to mind a creature consuming already dead people. Though, maybe Tim (pre-reveal) worries Bruce would mind if it was someone he knew.

I'm also hella curious where puppet Uncle Eddie comes from. Dead body? Bad guy Tim doesn't mind turning into a puppet?

Love Janet Drake. Maybe Tim could go visit her every once in a blue moon. If not, at least both of them seem happy and content with their relationship

[dope-trope-105]

Enamoured by Strawberries

Modern Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The reader is Daeron's best friend, temporarily living at the Targaryen Manor. She's a frustrated little birdie and our Aegon has the perfect solution for her. But maybe, just maybe, I could make a second part with more than just smut.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 4.5k

It had been a few months since you’d shifted to the Targaryen Manor. When Daeron told his mother that his best friend was about to go broke and end up homeless, Auntie Ali, as you liked to call her, almost forced you into her house. Since then, this place has been your home. 

One night, most of the Targaryen’s had gone for a court meeting about something they didn't disclose. You knew all the kids were asleep. Not being able to sleep till three am, you snuck into the kitchen, only wearing a tee, not bothering to put on clothes because who was gonna be out. So you tiptoed on the cold stone floors through the castle in your baby pink lace thong and Iron man sweatshirt. It was so loose and worn at the neck it hung off your shoulders, but you refused to get rid of it. You shivered in the castle's chill air. Lightly humming to Travis playing on your AirPods, you reached the kitchen. You found yourself snacking on the strawberries while leaning on the counter, slightly moving your hips to the song. Having had quite a few of them as you scrolled through some pictures of hot guys your girlfriends and you had sent on the group, sending voice notes ever so often on what was hot and what was not, you turned around to keep the box back, almost dropping all things in your hand as your eyes widened, mouth hanging open as you took in Aegon's smirking face, who stood on the opposite wall, leaning on a pillar with a beer bottle in his hands, wearing a tight white top and grey sweats. You ripped out the AirPods from your ears.

"Welcome back to the world of the hearing-abled," he said.

"How long have you been standing here?" you questioned, clearly panicked.

"It's the hands. If he didn't have veiny hands, I'd never give him a second look. But because he has veiny hands, I'm cumming just by looking at him," he imitated the first sentence you had spoken on your phone since coming here. Blood went straight to your face.

"That's so fucking creepy, Aegon," you said, voice low as you could hear the blood rush in your ears.

"You're one naughty girl, aren't you," he said, kicking off the wall as he walked closer to you. "Talking about guys almost like they're sex dolls," he said, shaking his head as he came much closer, you instinctively moving back as the exposed skin of your back hit the high marble countertop. "All about making you cum," he finished, hands leaning on both sides of you as he brought his face down to meet yours.

"Wha-what d-do you-," you couldn't even finish your sentence as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

"What, can't you talk now? You had so much to say before," he said. "You know I'm not oblivious to your attention-seeking," he said.

You knew what he was talking about. You might have gone absolutely madly sexually repressed since you came here. You were eighteen for fuck's sake, had terrible sex, and only once, and read smut twenty-four/seven. Plus you were generally more horny, probably something to do with your diet. And you had taken to Aegon to relieve you, well not with his knowledge. He was on your mind as you worked your vibrator onto you, imagining him doing the vile things to you that you read. You'd get extra feminine near him, almost always being just slightly more touchy with him than others. You knew nobody noticed. But you were too enamoured fantasising by what he could do to notice what he could observe.

His finger slowly running up your thigh drove you back to him. You were sure you had the deer-in-the-headlights gaze at the direct confrontation and contact.

"You know your room is right next to mine? Imagine my surprise when I hear you at night, not laughing with Baela, not talking, but I hear my own name?" he said, finger hooked onto the waistband of your underwear.

"I-I d-don't know wha-what you're talking about," you said, mind going into overdrive at the lightest of contact. He was so close you could feel his breath on your face.

"It's some filthy shit you read, you know?" he said, smirk growing.

"You went through my laptop?" you asked, panicked.

"You shouldn't leave things like that open on your phone for anyone to pick up," he said, reminding you of the one time at dinner.

You were sitting next to Aegon, snug as a bug in the comfortable sofa-chair on the dining table, waiting for your food to come. You had been rudely interrupted whilst reading one of your favourite smuts, which was basically porn, to be called for dinner. You went, but took the smut with you on your phone, refusing to stop halfway. The food hadn't arrived, and you felt the urge to pee. You left your phone on the sofa that day, your breathing had obviously gotten slightly heavy, and unbeknownst to you, Aegon noticed.

"You look so pretty while sleeping, you know? Hair stuck to your face with sweat all over your body, wearing nothing but underwear," he said again. You only slept like that if you used your vibrator.

"I can do all that, you know?" he finally said, hand now gripping your hip.

"I can make you feel so good," he said, head dipping as he placed a small kiss on your neck, followed by another, then another, until he found himself not giving your skin a break from his mouth. He noticed how you reacted to him, littlest of touches on any part of your exposed skin had you twitching. He hadn't heard you in about a week, and you had been acting like a brat to everyone. He understood your pent up frustration, or more like deduced it. He didn't have to touch you to know you were dripping. Your eyes closed as you were breathing at a mile a minute. Not a sound had come out of you. Aegon knew you needed time to get comfortable.

"Come on," he finally said, grabbing your hand as he walked to his room. Three minutes of complete silence between you guys as you finally took in every word he said. He opened his door, standing to the side as he let you in first. You walked in, seeing his room for the first time. It was dark, green walls, ebony furniture, gaming setup, creamy white sheets, slightly messy, and it smelled overwhelmingly like him. It was intoxicating. "Like what you see?" he said, and you looked back at him, having completely forgotten what you were wearing, or rather, what you weren't.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, walking closer to you. You nodded.

"You've been very bratty this week. You're pretty much a brat all the time, but this last week, You've managed to snap at everyone. I think I know why," he said, hands wrapping loosely on your waist as he looked into your eyes.

"Vibrator just not doing it anymore, is it?" he asked, a mock look of pity in his own eyes,

"You want to be touched now," one of his hands making smooth circles on your side, "You want to feel someone, hear someone speak to you as he fucks you stupid," he finished. "Just say the word," he said. "What do you want baby, I'll do it," he said, cooing. "You want me to kiss you?" he asked, head coming very close to you. Your breath mixed with his, your noses touched as your eyes closed breathing in his scent. "I'll do whatever you want tonight," he said.

And you couldn't wait anymore, pulling his neck to yours as you attached your lips to his. It was a smooth kiss, his lips soft, his breath cold. He tasted like beer. He pulled you abnormally close to him, one arm holding you to his own body as the other went to your ass. He gripped it hard, and softly kneaded it as you sighed in satisfaction.

You were already losing it. His thumb caressed your skin, but his hold was harsh. His lips were soft, but his tongue was rough. It almost made you think he wanted you. His tongue dragged across your lower lip and you opened your mouth to him, letting him know you weren't going to offer any sort of resistance whatsoever. Even if for one night, you were all his, he could do whatever he wanted. Your head was a mess, wondering if you wanted him only sexually or whether you actually wanted him. For the longest time, he kept kissing you, not doing anything else. It made you needy but it also made you happy, that he wasn't willing to jump straight to the deed, get himself off and be done with it. Guys like that were terrible, you were speaking from experience.

But enough was enough, you wanted more. He wasn't wrong, you hadn't had the pleasure of being alone for long enough, uni was exhausting and you were just done with self-satisfaction, it always ended in anger with you. But finally, to your complete glee, he dragged his hands away from your waist, down to your sides as he held onto the back of your thighs. You understood, jumping as he rested your legs onto his hips, and he walked back to his love seat, a large bubbly cream chair, which was more like a single bed. He didn't detach your lips from him even once as he sat, until his back leaned against the chair and he finally pulled back. His eyes were dark, his gaze almost hazy, like he was drunk but you knew he wasn't, his actions were too sharp for it.

His hands then moved to your ass, slowly moving you on top of his hard-on as he watched you. The contact sent a bolt of electricity through your body, a soft moan escaping your lips. As he moved you, your mind directly went to how he manhandled you, moving you without any effort, and it only made you hornier. "Aegon I-" he didn't let you finish kissing your neck, but this time you weren't silent. Moans escaped your mouth like never before, like they were falling off your tongue. You had barely grinded on him but it was better than any vibrator session of yours. "Aegon please," you said. He knew exactly what you wanted. His hands left your hips, but that didn't stop you from moving at the rhythm he set. His fingers brushed your waistband, one pulling at it slightly, but he was going so slow. Did he want a puddle on his pants? "What do you want, baby?" he asked, the words going straight to your core. "Just touch me," you sighed, the movement not nearly enough to satiate your ever growing desires. He tapped your thigh, "get on my bed," he said.

Unwillingly, you got off him and sat on his bed, moments later he was on top of you, crawling almost like a predator. And he kissed your shoulder, slowly moving down your chest as far as the neckline would let him. You groaned in frustration. "Someone's impatient," he chuckled, tugging at your top. "You're killing me," you said, the whine evident in your voice, you'd cry if he waited any longer. "Alright, princess," he said, hands taking off your panties in one sweep, the cool air hitting you. He went back down until his head rested between your legs which he split away with his hands, eyes gleaming as he looked at you. He looked up at you, looking like he was salivating. "Is this what you want?" he asked. You nodded almost feverishly, face red with embarrassment. "She's dripping for me, is she not," he asked, kissing the inside of your thighs as he inched closer and closer. The frustration making your eyes cloud with tears. "Aegon please stop teasing me," you said. "So damn demanding, I guess I should've seen that coming," he said.

"But I guess you deserve to be so, look at you, so fucking perfect," he said as he finally let his tongue make contact with your centre. You gasped at the sensation, your hips jerking. "There we go," he said, throwing your thighs over his shoulders as he put a death grip on your hips, his tongue swirling around your clit, making you squirm. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, hands flying to grip his hair as slight mewls came from your mouth. But when he started to fuck you with his tongue, your mewls turned to moans. His name fell from your mouth attached to words of appreciation, heat coating you so fiercely you thought you were burning.

Your orgasm came to you out of nowhere, you felt out of this world, the knot in your stomach splitting, fire in your veins as you screamed his name, back arching as you saw stars, your thighs shaking, but he didn't stop one moment, eating you out through your high, only stopping when you fell back into the bed. Breathing so erratic. You looked down from your heavy lidded eyes to Aegon, who licked up the remnants of your orgasm like a dog. You felt so lightheaded as giggles fell from your mouth, his eyes catching yours, he looked so amused. "Someone's happy," he said, crawling back up as he rested on you, arms on either side of you as he smiled down at you. He wiped a tear from your face with his thumb.

Your giggles finally stopped as you looked at him. "How are you so good at that?" you asked, still breathless. "Practise," he said, running a finger up your torso to the t-shirt stuck to you from sweat. You felt a trail of goosebumps he left in wake from his touch. "You're so beautiful," he said, heat pooling into your centre at his words. You thought you'd be completely passed out from one orgasm, but the way he was making you feel made your body have other plans. "You're going to be all mine," he said, flipping you both so now he was semi horizontal and you straddled him. He took off your top, you willingly lifting your arms like the obedient girl you were for him. His eyes shining with mischief as he eyed your tits. "You've got to be kidding me, I should've taken this off sooner," he said, hands kneading both as he pulled you towards him, mouth on your chest in no time as he sucked on one while kneaded the other, and you began grinding against him. "No more time for teasing, princess," he said, patting your thigh as you got off him and he took off his pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, pre-cum coating his enlarged tip. You wondered if he'd get bruised if he waited any longer.

"You can blow me some other time, I don't think I have any more patience," he said, grabbing his own dick as he swirled the precum onto his tip, giving a few pumps before signalling you back with two fingers. Something you'd normally perceive as disrespectful but today, only made him hotter, and you climbed on top of him. Your hand replaced his as you guided him to your entrance. When his tip touched you, you wanted to cry out in satisfaction. "We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow," you said. "I'll buy you a fucking hospital, just let me fuck you right now," he said, your eyes shooting up to him. You might have teased him, but the lack of self control on you was much stronger than his impatience could ever be, and you slowly sunk onto him, and he watched your face contort in pain.

His hands rubbed your sides comfortingly. "It'll be okay, baby, just a little bit longer," he said, and you rested yourself onto him, forehead coming into contact with him as you felt him stretch your walls.

His touch on your side felt good, and you focused on that as you slowly moved, a new feeling replacing the pain bit by bit. He flipped you around again, his weight partially on you and partially on his arm as he brought up the other, he held your face to his. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, you shook your head. He moved very slow, but still, it felt good. And he kept moving, and the more he moved, the better it felt. "Faster Aegon," you said, voice barely audible as you felt something completely different for the first time. This really was nothing like the first guy. And then Aegon almost pulled out, making your eyebrows knit in confusion, but then he slammed back into you, your head falling back as you gasped. And he did it over and over again, getting faster as he watched you. Your hips moved in sync with his, your head thrown back as he felt your nails on his shoulder blade, one hand on his neck.

He lifted one leg of yours over his hip and began going at a fast, constant pace. Your gasps turned to moans, moans to screams as he got faster, and had you screaming "harder Aegon, harder," in no time. And harder he got. You were a mess by the time Aegon felt himself close. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," you were frantic, his movement emptying your thoughts completely. "Cum for me baby," he said, and you did, harder than ever before, he fucked you through your orgasm, spilling into you in no time, feeling your walls clench around him. He collapsed over you, breathing heavily as you did the same.

"Holy fuck, that's the best sex I've had in ages," he said, something about it being you making it different. He's fucked lots of girls, lots of firsts, and he did take care to be gentle, but never this gentle. It was different with you. He looked up at you, but you'd passed out, presumably too much for you. He smiled. Sweat coated you, and he could hear your heartbeat. He stayed like that for a minute or so before deciding to get more comfortable. He went to the bathroom, wetting a towel and coming back to the room. He cleaned your thighs, you jerked at the contact, but he continued. Once he reached your centre, you gasped, but remained asleep. He threw away the towel, climbing back into the bed. You slightly turned away as he pulled the comforter over you both, coming closer to you. The moment his skin touched yours, you sighed, moving closer to him. He let you rest your head on his arm, you moved your ass to perfectly fit into his touch, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around you, still not finding sleep, but he did feel comfort. Your hair smelled sweet, you smelled sweet. Your body was made for him, he realised that the moment you leaned into his touch on that counter. He remembered the hint of strawberry on your tongue. You engulfed his thoughts and the more he thought of you, the heavier his eyes got. He passed out soon.

Aegon was a deep sleeper, but he woke up before you. Your back was to his chest, and he ran his fingers over your figure. He lifted himself up on his elbows, his movements making you turn and lie flat, face slightly towards him. His eyes went over your face, down to the marks he left on your neck, your chest, and down to your stomach where the sheets covered you. He felt himself getting hard as his fingers played with your breasts.

He found himself ripping away the sheets and lying on top of you, taking your tit into his mouth as he played with the other. You sighed. His mouth inched upwards. He lifted his head again as you opened your eyes. "What are you doing," you chuckled.

There was a raspiness in your voice that made his blood rush down to his cock even faster. "Enjoying nature’s gifts," he shrugged, moving slightly so you could sit up. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked around the room, grabbing the bottle of water. "This is so much better than waking up to Daeron’s crass screaming," you said, and he chuckled. He lifted himself up, connecting his lips with yours as you kissed back. "I haven't even brushed my teeth yet," you said laughing as you slightly pushed at his chest. "Let me enjoy the fruits of my labour," he shrugged, smiling at you. "What is that supposed to mean," you said, mirroring his expression. "It means you didn't even say good night," he said. "Well good morning," you retorted, letting out a slight squeal as he pulled you down.

"Good morning, princess," he said, connecting your lips again as his hand went between your legs. You moaned into his mouth at the contact. "Any special demands today?" he asked. You blushed. "I love it when you get shy," he said, removing his hands from you as he positioned himself aligned up with your entrance as he pushed himself in, the both of you moaning at the contact. There was no pain today, only pleasure as he started thrusting himself into you, lips coming up to kiss you so you didn't wake the whole house. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you moaned his name into his mouth. It might've changed something in him because he got a lot harder, and suddenly, you gasped as he hit your sweet spot. He must've sensed it.

"Did you like that?" he asked, hitting the spot again and again as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten tremendously. "Oh god Aegon, please," you moaned. "Wait for me baby, wait for me," he said, feeling himself getting sloppier. "I can't hold on anymore," you said, tears building up into your eyes. "Come on then princess, cum for me," he said, biting your lower lip as you let go, feeling him spill inside you again. He fell on you as you were both panting. "Did you pass out again," he said. "No, I'm right here," you said as he looked up at you. Your fingers found themselves in his soft hair as you both looked at each other until you heard Joffrey running as he screamed "mommy" outside Aegon's door. Your eyes widened.

"Fuck, Rhaenyra's here" you whispered. "So?" he shrugged, eyebrows knit in confusion. "What if she finds us, more importantly, what if Auntie Ali finds us," you questioned. "They won't, even if they heard anyone, they'd just assume it was some one night stand, not you," he said. You liked how he excluded you from being a one night stand, but there were more important matters at hand. "Yeah but what happens when they don't find miss-sleeps-till-noon in her room at-'' you looked around, tapping his phone screen to check the time, "oh, well it's noon, no issue then I guess, I'll just sneak into my bathroom," you shrugged.

You almost screamed when there was a knock on Aegon's door. "Are you decent, Aegon?" came Alicent's voice. Your hands flew to your mouth, Aegon however seemed completely relaxed as he rested his face in your tits. "No mother," he simply said. "Well get down soon, everyone's here," she said as you heard her walking away.

Aegon began kissing your tits again, but you stopped him. "No, we need to get back now," you said. "They're gonna take like half an hour to settle down so you can sneak into your room, we can have our fun till then," he said, hands on your waist.

"No Aegon, please," you said, pleading eyes enough to make Aegon agree. He got up from you as you grabbed your sweatshirt discarded on the floor and put it on before looking for your underwear. "Looking for this," he said, holding up your panties with one finger as he sat back on his bed. Your face flushed as you snatched it away before putting it on, Aegon's gaze not leaving you once. You put your hair behind your fingers as your face scrunched up. "There's cum all over me," you frowned. "You didn't let me clean you up like last night," he shrugged. You smiled at him, sitting back on his bed next to him as you grabbed his face, kissing him again. "At least you didn't leave any marks," you said. But his amused face made you freeze. "You-you didn't, right?" you asked again. "Depends, what exactly do you mean by marks," he shrugged. You shot up, almost running to the large mirror that stood at one corner of the room.

You gasped, at your reflection, other than your messy hair and swollen lips, there was a trail of marks, at least two or three on your neck. You stretched your top down to see a few scattered over your breasts. You stuttered. "Aegon I-" you looked at him. "What am I gonna do?" you asked, eyes wide. He shrugged. You hit his shoulder as you'd walked back to him, but he only laughed at you as you sat. "Shut the fuck up," you scowled. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I won't do it the next time," he said, leaning back onto his bed. You smiled at his words as you went back to sit on top of him.

"I thought we couldn't have fun," he quipped. "Oh shit you're right," you said, remembering your own words as you started to get off him, looking up at him again as he tightly held you in place. "You can't play with people like that, baby," he said, hands kneading your ass again. "I'm being for real Aegon, my stamina is nowhere near yours," you said, putting your arms around his neck again. "What the fuck are you running circles around the castle for every morning then?" he said, trying to catch your lips in his as you moved back slightly. "That's different, Aegon," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh really?" he said, mocking you. "Shut up," you said, letting him kiss you at his second attempt. "We gotta do this every day, I've got some fun positions to show you," he exclaimed. "Are you crazy, we can't do this everyday," you said, laughing at him. "Well how much time do you want in between every single best night of your life?" he questioned, you looked down as you blushed. "A week?" you questioned. "Are you crazy?" He imitated you.

You kissed him again. "I bet you one orgasm, you won't last three days," he quipped. "Wow ok, mr. gambling man," you said, accepting his deal nonetheless. "Hey, if you win, you get an extra orgasm, if you lose, you get an extra orgasm," he said, shrugging. You laughed, "wow that's some gambling skills right there, I think I just swooned," you said. "Oh I'll make you swoon," he said, flipping you guys around. "I was being serious, Aegon," you said.