#saw my friends online name I am terrified

[ofelia0u8]

nice to meet you, Tumblr ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

[meazalykov]

the video

aitana bonmati x barca femeni x barca!reader

summary: on international break- a video circulates online that will cause your girlfriend, and club teammates, to be concerned

warnings: mentions of abuse, angst

on international break, you clashed with your coach over a situation. 

you’ve realized that your national team coach was being overly aggressive towards some of the younger players– the 18 to 22 year old ones. 

as the captain, you gave them a safe space to talk to you about it. you had the platform– as a 2020 ballon d’or winner, and 2 time champions league winner– to speak up about any situation that is bothering you. 

even if that might piss off the “higher ups” of your national team. 

after seeing your coach nearly scream, not yell, but scream at one of the youngsters on the team for not making a header during an international friendly.. you had enough. 

you pulled your coach to the side and confronted him at halftime.

 

“hey, why did you scream at her over the failed set piece? its her debut?” 

“don’t question me about my corrections.” he mumbled, looking away from you and waving at another staff member yards away. 

“i will! you can’t scream at the players about their mistakes, it's affecting the team chemistry and they need to be nurtured into having experience– not screamed at. you can see that they’re SCARED to even come to training because of this.” you snapped.

this has happened for long enough. 

little did you know, a few people in the distance were recording this interaction between your coach and you. 

what shocked them was when the coach grabbed your arm, aggressively, and pulled you close to him so you’re just 3 feet from the left side of his body. 

he squeezed your arm, purposely, which caused your face to squeeze as his physical assault caught you off guard. 

“listen, you do NOT question me about my coaching! maybe if she scored that, she wouldn’t have been punished!” he said through clenched teeth, staring at you with darkened eyes and a vein nearly popping out of his forehead.

realizing that you wouldn’t let him do this to you, you smacked his hand off of your arm and sprinted off– completely shocked that he would do that to you. 

the people who recorded the interaction sent the video to all news publications afterwards– the new york times, bbc, foxsports, tmz, 433– you name it. 

at the end of the game, where you were benched after that confrontation before the start of the second half, everyone booed the coach. 

everyone was confused– even you. at first, you assumed that your own country was booing you guys. that didn’t make sense– you guys won 3-2. 

once you guys were in the dressing room, all of the fifa officials took your coach away to talk to him. 

you had no idea that people recorded that assault that happened to you. some of your teammates noticed the red mark on your arm and the quietness of your voice– so they figured it had to do with the coach. 

“y/n..” you turn around to see the young midfielder behind you with a sad smile. 

the same 17 year old girl you defended after she was screamed over a missed header. 

“hey! congrats on today.” you pulled her into a soft hug, rubbed her upper back before pulling away. 

“thank you.” she smiled. 

you couldn’t resent her for the moment between the coach and you– he is the problem not her. 

when the national team got on the bus, the coach wasn’t there. the nice assistant coach (who has fallen to the main coaches abuse too) took his place. 

your eyebrows knitted together as you saw a notification from your barcelona teammate and close friend– alexia. 

ale 

WHAT THE FUCK? 

ale 

are you okay?!! 

y/n 

i am? 

y/n 

what's going on!?

ale

there’s a video on the internet

alex 

instagram.com/justwomensports….

when you clicked on the link, your face turned pale. 

many people have recorded the moment between the coach and you from hours before. 

you looked strong at first, until he grabbed your arm. the terrified look on your face was present until you smacked his arm away. 

to say that the media was in an outrage– that would be an understatement. 

almost every news publication has posted about it. there was no possible way that the coach wouldn’t be sacked for the amount of negative attention this has brought. 

you didn’t want to imagine how aitana, your girlfriend, is reacting to the situation– as she keeps calling you over-and-over again.  

y/n 

tana, i’ll call you once i’m back in the hotel. i will explain. 

aitana

i should kill him 

aitana

are you okay mi amor? 

y/n

i don’t know

y/n 

i think my mind is trying to supress it, but i can’t explain how i feel 

aitana

please call me asap 

when you clicked off of your imessages– mapi texted you in the groupchat between ingrid, her, and you. 

mapi 

y/n are you active? 

y/n

yes, hi!

mapi

do you want me to kill that pos? 

you giggle at the message- not because you want to see him dead- but the barcelona girls have their extreme way with defending their loved ones. 

ingrid

maybe you shouldn’t threaten ppl mapi 

ingrid

especially not now

ingrid

y/n please tell me you’re okay 

mapi

or will be okay? 

y/n 

i don’t know how to feel about it

y/n 

it happened so fast 

y/n 

i think my brain isn’t trying to process it. i’m scared

ingrid

call aitana

y/n

i am once i’m back in the hotel, i’m on the bus with the team right now. 

after turning your phone off and looking at your phone, your national teammates on the bus were very quiet. 

as they’re scrolling on their phones– they’re understanding why the mean coach isn’t on the bus anymore.

 your best friend on your national team taps your shoulder and you look over at her, seeing that she finished watching the video. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” she mumbles very quietly as she gives you a heartbroken look. 

“when did this happen?” she asked. 

“at halftime, remember when i had to pull him outside of the dressing room to talk to him..” you say. 

your best friend frowns before pulling your head into her body for a hug. 

“is this why you were benched once the game started again?” she whispers. 

“i believe so.” 

one thing that everyone knew– your girlfriend in spain wasn’t going to let *that* slide. 

the next day-- your 2023 ballon d’or winner girlfriend scored a goal in a game against another country.. she held up two fingers on her left hand and one finger on her right, dedicating her golozo for you. since you wore the number 12 on your club and national teams.

next, an important post on instagram spoke up about abuse in the community. a post that went viral alongside your situation.

aitana was quick to repost it on her story– bringing more support for you as you struggled with that traumatic moment. 

before you came back to barcelona a week later, you told the “higher-ups” of your national team that if your coach stays, you would retire from international football. 

you are 24 years old, so that is an extreme ultimatum. 

they couldn’t afford to lose you, one of the best players in the world. 

the coach was sacked, charged for assault, and you are happy about it. 

in barcelona, most of the girls came to your apartment to comfort you. 

alexia, her girlfriend olga, ingrid, mapi, esmee, fridolina, patri, caroline, marta, and jana were all there to give you support. 

you cried for the first time about it since the incident occurred. never in your life were you treated that way. 

once the girls left your house hours later, aitana stayed. well– you guys lived together so it wasn’t an option for her to leave. 

with aitana, you told more details about the things you’ve seen the coach do to the team. the way he ruined the chemistry and motivation of the girls is something you’re prepared to fix with the new coach coming onto the national team. 

she cuddles you and plays with your hair as you talk. refusing to leave your side for a while. 

the spanish national team had their own problems, which you know about, so aitana is able to help you as you help her through her problems too.

aitana and your club teammates vows to never let someone hurt you like that again. 

authors note: this has been in my drafts for over a month.

my master list is linked here if you want to read more fics <3

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.

Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.

The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.

But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.

She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.

That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.

The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.

We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.

Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.

For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.

Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.

Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.

Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.

After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.

Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.

Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.

Thank you.

==

Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.

And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.

The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.

[qqueenofhades]

what's been particularly vile to me is this group of white online leftists who insist that anyone who cares about more than this one issue for the election is a bad person, like, as if us black and brown people are making up reasons to be afraid and not.....believing the gop when they say they are coming for us. believing trump who has said previously that he does not bluff, that he will do the things he's said he will do (i hate what social media has gone to the word gaslighting but it feels like gaslighting. we lived through four years of trump. we saw the damage. stop treating us like we're being dramatic). it must be great to not have to worry about that i guess? "life won't change under trump" is such a telling admission because maybe theirs won't but mine will. and so many others' will.

and it is often again these (white) online leftists that love to call anyone who disagrees with them a white liberal (derogatory) because they know it would be racist (bad) to be this shitty and condescending to poc but they don't want to actually listen to anything black and brown voters are saying. it's easier to just call us white liberals and throw our opinions out, to ignore the work of black people for decades to gain the right to vote, to disregard the weight of telling them to not do that. it's genuinely appalling. they care so much about racism until it's time to engage with poc who have different opinions than their online echo chambers, then we're just stupid liberals with terrible opinions like..... wanting to live. not wanting four more years of trump. so sorry for that.

sorry for this vent in your inbox, i'm just so fucking tired of white people trying to rewrite history as if trump wasn't that bad. he was for my family and countless others and i am terrified for what's to come if he wins.

The thing about (the often-white) Online Leftists is that they have become just as much as a radicalized death cult as the diehard Trumpists. If you don't want to die for The Revolution and/or sacrifice your life, friends, family, the rest of the country, etc., then you're Insufficiently Pure and must be Purged. (Which I think is just complete BS, as none of them could actually handle sacrificing anything, but it's increasingly the only kind of performative rhetoric that is acceptable in leftist-identified discourse spaces.) This is functionally identical to "if you aren't willing to lay down your life for our Lord and Savior Donald Trump and the Great White Christian Nationalist Dictatorship, you're a liberal cuck," but with the names and justification changed. It doesn't change the underlying radicalization, nihilism, and insanity of the premise.

Another thing the Trumpists and the Online Leftists have in common is that they are busily rewriting just how bad Trump was in order to serve their Ideology. Ever since January 6, 2021, the Republicans have thrown everything they have at revising and whitewashing any suggestion that it was an "insurrection," and the Online Leftists have done the same, in an attempt to "prove" their insane point that Trump "would be better" than Biden. This is embodied in the recent ultimate-brainworm-nonsense maximalist-online take that "Biden has to lose so the rest of the world will see that the US rejects genocide!!!" That's right, the message that the rest of the world would take from Biden losing to Trump is that the US rejects genocide. Never mind if Trump literally wants to commit all the genocide possible and to install himself as a fascist theocratic dictator. In the deeply twisted minds of the Online Leftists, this is the only possible interpretation of Biden's loss, so they'll push for it as hard as they can! The Trumpists and the Online Leftists, at this point, are working pretty much in concert to damage Biden for similar insane reasons and get Trump elected. Etc etc., one Nazi and ten people at the same table is eleven Nazis.

Like. Sure. Four years ago, when Trump was president and people were dying by the thousands because he didn't want to wear a mask because it smeared his bronzer, just to name literally one of the terrible things he did every single day (and not even mentioning how much worse a second term would be) we were absolutely better off. Super-duper great. (Sarcasm.) Either that or "there is suffering and evil in the world and the only solution is to drastically increase the suffering and evil for everyone and to destroy what progress we have managed to make because It Does Not Fix Everything Now" is an absolute moral imperative, and either way, yeah. I'm calling bullshit.

[marimayscarlett]

You’ve probably answered this before but I am kind of new here so I’ll ask again: how and when did you become a fan of Rammstein?

For me it was my best friends mom, she has an entire dedicated to the band and she took us with her to see a tribute band, which was cool and all, then I got my first mp3 player and asked the mom for audio files of the cds (ripping was a possibility then) because I liked rock and metal, I had my dads old Iron Maiden, Nirvana, Roling Stones cd’s etc already on it :) Plus is German class at the same time in high school, Sonne was played as an example of German music, which was very cool. Since then I am a listener. Was unfortunately too expensive at the time to go the MIG tour, my first time was festival tour 2016! And since then I have been every time they were in the ‘area’. And when Paul announced the break this year, I felt lost because aside from 2018 and the covid years I have seen them each year and was wondering how to survive without and started looking for the online fandom! And now I am here!🖤

Hi and thank you so much for your lovely message! I always enjoy reading and hearing how others found their way to the band and into the fandom! 🤲🏻

I mentioned my own story here and there briefly, but this asks gives me the opportunity to delve a little deeper 🙂‍↕️

Growing up as a kid in 90's and early 2000's Germany, it was almost impossible to avoid the band. Rammstein was a name that was always present, and while "Du hast" was the band's flagship song worldwide, "Engel" was THE Rammstein song that everyone in Germany knew (and still knows). I can remember hearing that song on the radio as far back as I can think.

Now things are about to get random: When I was around 11/12 years old, I was already neck deep in my fantasy/vampire phase, and I desperately wanted to watch something truly scary, like the cool kids. My mother didn’t allow me to watch horror movies, but she had another idea and showed me the video for "Du riechst so gut." I instantly fell head over heels for the song and had it on my MP3 player since I was 12 😊. However, I found the video so creepy, and as a child, I was terrified of Paul with his red eyes for ages 🫢

(gif source)

My third Rammstein song was "Stripped," which my father showed me. I was also introduced to the music video, kind of as an educational tool for Leni Riefenstahl, as my parents explained to me that while her film footage is very controversial due to her ideology (rightfully so), they were once considered highly aesthetic.

I saw Rammstein live for the first time in 2013 at the Southside Festival. I wasn’t a full fan yet, but I was incredibly excited to hear "Du riechst so gut" live. And I remember that all the Rammstein fans around me were incredibly kind and friendly, giving each other plenty of space to dance 😊.

Here comes another random but vital moment: I used to cosplay a lot and attend various conventions, one of them being Gamescom in Cologne. In 2015, after a particularly exhausting convention day, a friend and I came home in the evening and spent the night vegetating on the couch, clicking through YouTube, until we came across a video titled "Ich will" by Rammstein. Since I was somewhat familiar with the band by then, I was curious, so we clicked on it. And well:

That guy comes on screen and that was it for me.

Since then, Rammstein has become an inseparable part of my life. I’ve seen them live several times in 2017, 2023, and 2024, made wonderful friends through the fandom, and kind of met my husband with the help of this band (the first conversation we ever had was about Till's newly released album "Skills in Pills" in 2015 🤭)

This band has given me so much, brought me a lot of joy and distraction, pushed me to educate myself on various topics, and simply feels like a musical home for me.

Sometimes it’s not easy being a Rammstein fan (for various reasons), but I can’t imagine my life without them anymore 🤍

If anyone wants, feel free to share with with your experience on how you found your way to Rammstein 🤲🏻

[usmsgutterson]

Caaaallllllllll 🩷 how have you been, love??? Are you on summer break yet?

I've heard your call for fic requests and I have one for Pin! What if Pin and his dad are family friends/neighbors of an old lady, and Pin has been helping take care of her during the winter since she lives alone. Then Reader, the woman's granddaughter, comes to live with her when her parents die, Pin teaches her how to ride, the fall in love, the whole 9 yards.

Thoughts?

Get Together- Pin Hawthorne x fem! reader

hi! I've not quite hit summer break yet--I've got like, seven and a half weeks left and in that time there's prom, senior skip day, a whole lot of studying, three classes worth of exams, grad rehearsal and then grad itself--but I am literally counting down the days til summer and even though I hate the warm weather I also cant wait for it, honestly.

What about you? How are things on your end? I hope all is well!

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of death, mentions of car accidents, a mention of making out (referenced as a snog)

"Ah," said a spry older woman as she noticed the sight of a dark blue toyota camry rolling into her driveway. "My grandbaby is here! Edward, do me a favor and help me down the front steps?"

"Of course, Mrs. L/N," Pins father intoned. Pin tried to hide his smile as he leaned back in the rocking chair that the elderly woman kept on her front porch, gently rocking back and forth by gently pushing the back of his foot off the ground.

Pin had been nineteen, would be twenty in February--it was barely the beginning of November, and Pins father had volunteered him to help take care of Mrs. L/N two, nearly three years beforehand--and still, he'd never quite met the person who stepped out of the camry when it was parked.

He watched Mrs. L/N approach you, saw your tired grin and puffy cheeks as you pulled your grandmother into a hug.

"Pin!" She called. "You must come down here this instant! I have someone I want you to meet."

"Grandma," Pin heard you say exasperated. "Don't make him get up! Don't make him do anything. I didn't mean to cause a fuss."

"You haven't," Pin called. "If you're fine to let me stay in my seat I'll gladly do so. My name is Pin Hawthorne."

You grinned at him, watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips before he returned the gesture to you.

"Y/N L/N," Mrs. L/N said proudly. "My granddaughter! She's just transfered to an asynchronous online program through a university in the city, and she'll be living with me until she finishes her degree in about three years time."

"What's your major?" Pins father asked.

"Writing," you said. "Creative writing. I'm minoring in journalism as a back up."

"Pin is currently enrolled at the same uni," Pins father said. "Should be catching up on his coursework before exams in December, but alas, you can't win them all."

Pin laughed easily as you came up the stairs, letting your grandmother hold onto you to keep herself steady.

"What's your major then, Hawthorne?" You asked.

"He's on his way to becoming a farm vet," Pins father intoned. "He'll work for the local horses stables. Only difference is that they'll have to start paying him for his contributions."

"They do well enough."

"Because you rescued them from bankruptcy and they find you terrifying."

You cast a glance at your grandmother. "Are they always like this?"

"Unfortunately, yes," she responded, giving you a reassuring grin. "But Pin is more sarcastic then his father, and Ted here is always the one who gets it started. One look, though, and they'll both shut right up."

"Or a cup of tea," Pin said.

"Biscuits," his father admitted, a guilty expression on his face. "Oh my word, your grandmother makes them wonderfully."

"Yes I do," your grandmother said with a proud grin. "Now, inside! You've flown, taken a train, and you've driven. You must be bloody exhausted. Rest up, we'll have dinner and tea in three hours."

You nodded at your grandmother, turned your gaze to Pin and his father.

"See you two in a bit," you said. "Lovely to meet you both."

Pin and his father both nodded, and when you'd fallen out of his line of sight, Pin turned his gaze to his feet in an attempt to hide the grin that'd spread to his face.

He ignored it when his father lightly elbowed his forearm, offered your grandmother a grin when she tutted at his and his fathers antics.

He offered her an arm. When she took it, he let her lean on him and lead him into the kitchen, his father following closely behind.

-

The weeks to follow were simple. Pin would come to yours and your grandmothers place to help look after her and to work on his studies.

The two of you often found yourselves in the sitting room on opposite ends of the couch, idly chatting as you typed away at an assignment or reviewed coursework to prep for exams that December.

Eventually, Bright Fields came up. Pin offered to teach you to ride using the horse your parents had kept in the stables before they'd passed, had told you you didn't have to do anything with the horse if you didn't feel comfortable with it yet.

Pin had ended up staying later and later, helping you take care of your grandmother during the day and relaxing with you in your room during the night, laughing and drinking tea that'd gone cold and studying together for the upcoming semester exams.

Without realizing it, you'd opened up to one another, had begun to rely upon the other person. By the end of that January, you'd told Pin about the accident--your survival, your parents deaths--and in turn, Pin had told you some of what happened with his mother.

At the end of that January, you'd finally taken Pin up on his offer to teach you to ride. You'd go to Bright Fields after your grandmother had called it a night, laugh and joke as Pin taught you basics and eventually you were almost better at it then he was.

It was when his father had offered to take his place in looking after your grandmother for a couple of days that he realized his father had known everything the whole time.

"A tip for subtility next time around," his father had said as he passed Pin a mug of tea. "Don't blush every damn time your phone dings with a text from her. Gives you away right quick, it does."

Pin nearly snorted, but managed to keep his composure. "I wasn't trying to be subtle," he said. "I have nothing to be subtle about."

"You're in love with her and you haven't even noticed?" His father asked incredulously. "Goodness, even with my lack of luck in the significant other department, I thought I raised you better. Mrs. L/N thought Y/Ns parents did a decent job too, but it seems she's just as oblivious to it as you are."

"I'm not oblivious," Pin had known he'd fall in love with you quickly from almost the get-go. He'd realized it the very day you met, and it was March. Spring was only two weeks away from donning on the island. "I do know that I'm in love, I just was raised by you. Love confessions really aren't the Hawthorne specialty."

His father laughed. "Fair enough," he said. "Just say something before it's too late. She's got a place at Bright Fields with the usual crew, and I'm sure Marcus has noticed. He'll try to bro-talk it with you, no doubt."

Pin scrunched his lips. He didn't much like the idea of talking his love life with anyone except someone he was in love with, and the idea that Marcus, of all people, might've found it an interesting point of discussion made him want to die.

"Yeah. I'll bring it up with her."

Pins father nodded. "Good lad. Enjoy your tea, I'll go check in next door and see how things are with Y/N and her grandma."

Pin nodded, took his tea up to his room as his father left.

-

"It's nothing big," Zoe said. "Just something small, to celebrate Spring. A get together!"

The two of you were in the stables, you running a brush along the horse your grandmother had kept in case you'd ever wanted to learn riding like your mother had once. The horse was called Luna, her coat a silvery white color.

"At the Dukes estate," you rebutted. "A get together is not a get together when it involves a butler named Arthur, nor when it involves professional chefs."

"It could be," Zoe said. "A get together is a get together when people get together."

You scoffed. "Get togethers in America are chips, sugary soda, a couple of bags of Sour Patch Kids dumped into a big ass bowl, some shitty lighting and fake laughter amongst people who are regretting agreeing to go within five seconds of their arrival."

"You miss it?"

"Somewhat," you laughed. "Oh, American get togethers were just small parties. I do miss that part, but I do not miss the stale beer or the stench of sweat. College parties were almost worse, though."

"Was it that bad?" Zoe asked. "Oh, you are so going to make me glad I chose to take asynchronous online schooling. I have to wake up at three am for zoom calls in the states sometimes, but if it means I don't attend shitty college parties it will be so much more worth it than I'd thought."

"College parties are glorified high school get togethers with shitty plastic solo cups to indicate relationship status. I used to always pick 'happily coupled' just to avoid being hit on so that I could drink my stale vodka in peace."

Zoe snorted. "Yeah. Feeling blessed. Thank you."

You laughed as you finished brushing Luna, placing the brush on the hook you'd always kept it on.

You turned to the entrance of the stable in time to catch Pins eye, the grin spreading to your face before you could stop it.

"Hi," Pin greeted. "Zoe, would you be all right if I took a minute to talk to Y/N?"

"Go ahead," Zoe said, shooting Pin a look and an eyebrow raise as she grabbed Lunas lead with the intention of passing her to Becky so that she could get some exercise because it had been a busy few days and you hadn't had time to see her at the stables with everything going on.

"Do tell her what a get-together is, though! She's got it wrong!" Zoe called as she walked further away, closing the stable door behind her.

Pin glanced at Zoes back before turning to you, confusion and surprise both present in his gaze.

"What was that?"

"Living on the island for too long has poisoned her," you said nonchalantly. "She thinks a get together is a party with a minimum of fifty people. I think it's like the shit I dealt with in college before my grandmother needed some extra help to look after her and I transferred. I think it's stale vodka, the stench of frat boy sweat, shitty lighting and laughter that makes ones ears hurt."

"Zoes right."

"How dare you?" You asked. "You were supposed to be my ally in this, Hawthorne! How dare?"

Pin shrugged. "Can't help it. She is."

"A get together is not fifty--you know what? You're going to make me sound like a bloody broken record. I am not doing that shit."

Pin laughed, and your heart fluttered for a moment.

"Calling it a get together is how the over twenty-five islander crowd discusses partying," Pin said after a moment. "It's 'we're going to get together, probably get drunk and definitely do something stupid regardless of how sober or not sober we are, but we're not in our early twenties and partying sounds too reckless.'"

"It is not," you said. "Hawthorne, you've found the hill I'm willing to die on. A get together and a party are very different things."

Pin smirked at you, shook his head as though he meant to clear his mind.

"I was wondering if you had a minute to talk," he said. "Not about the debate that we will most definitely be continuing later, but about something different."

"Yeah," you gave a nod, leaning against the stable wall. "Shoot."

"I'm in love with you," he blurted.

You thought on it for a few moments. You'd fallen for him too, across the five months you'd known him. You fell in love quick and hard, and somehow it seemed like it was paying off.

"Ditto," you said.

Pin scoffed. "That was easier than I tho--ditto?"

"Yes, Hawthorne. Ditto. It's very American of me, but if I say that I love you back I might just melt into a clingy puddle and I am not ready for you to see that side of me yet."

He scoffed again, though you couldn't help but notice his grin. "May I kiss you?"

"Please," you responded. He stepped forward, cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. You kissed back, arms moving to rest on either of his shoulders. You felt weightless almost, like nothing mattered more in that moment than the two of you did.

As you pulled away, you heard clapping. Pins arms wrapped around your waist as you pulled him close, not daring to look up and meet the gazes of those you knew were standing outside of the stable doors.

"Finally!" Marcus called. "I've been watching this trainwreck for five months, and finally it happened!"

"We're not a trainwreck!" Pin called back.

"Oh, yes you are! First, you meet at Y/Ns bloody grandmothers house," Mia called.

"Then you fall in love over tea, creative writing essays and fucking biology assignments," Zoe added.

"And now, look at you lot! Having a snog in a bloody stable!" Gabby finished off.

"We were not having a snog," you fired back, ignoring the heat in your cheeks. "It was a kiss--one kiss! Stop being lewd."

Pin let you go as the two of you turned, letting you grab his hand instead, other hand moving to rest on his elbow as your fingers interlaced.

"Did you at least bring up the--" Zoe started, cutting herself off. "The thing, relating to the other thing that's happening at your estate?"

"He's taken your side on the get-together debate."

"I'm taking Y/Ns out of spite from here on," Pin mumbled. "And loyalty."

You snorted where Zoe scoffed. "She's wrong and you know it!"

"I'm loyal!" Pin said in his defense. "Kill me, Zoe. Kill me for my loyalty. How would that look on your resume?"

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to Pins cheekbone, shooting Zoe a pointed look.

"Oh, fuck off! Both of you!" Marcus shouted. "Ah, now they're a couple, it's going to be hell around here."

"Oh no! Two people holding hands, kissing, and taking the other persons side in group arguments! How awful!" You mocked, one part of you wishing you and Pin were at your place, relaxing and trying to do course work, one of your hands idly running through his soft brown hair.

The other part of you wanted to be in the field you and Pin had found a good distance from the beach, leant up against a tree as you drank tea you'd poured into flasks and talked about anything and everything.

Pin gave your hand a squeeze. "All right," he said. "That's enough gawking, you all have work that needs doing."

Marcus gave a mock salute, Zoe and Mia nodded.

Gabby nodded. "Marcus is wrong. You'll be good for each other."

"Thanks," you and Pin said.

You were almost entirely sure that, since the deaths of your parents, since your survival after the accident, those moments were some of the first wherein you felt genuine happiness again.

[ghostfaceprincess]

meet October! 🎃

OC.

hi there, my name is October and im 23! im currently looking for rp buddies for horror related stuff! here’s more about me:

likes: all things horror (classics, B, basically anything!)

my favorite slashers are: Michael Myers, Ghostface (Billy and Stu), and The Creeper.

i have 40+ tattoos, most of them horror related.

i have discord!

my rp replies are very long, with correct grammar and punctuation (despite how im typing now!)

my OC is a self insert, it just helps me connect more to the story.

i have black curly hair, light brown eyes, and a septum ring. im pretty short, and my tattoos are on my chest, left hand, arms, and legs.

i have a service dog!

i have schizoaffective disorder and am an advocate for my community to break the stigma!

English is not my first language, and im mixed race!

i love all kinds of music but specifically kpop and metal/rock/scream.

i love making online friends, as real life friends are hard for me to find.

if you’re wondering, here are some of my favorite horror movies: House on Haunted Hill, The Bat, Jeepers Creepers (1 & 2), The Last Man on Earth, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors, Halloween, Halloween (2018), Halloween Kills, Halloween Ends, Scream, Smile, Silence of The Lambs, Terrifier, Terrifier 2, Terrifier 3, IT, Leprechaun (1-4, In Tha Hood, Back to Tha Hood), Evil Dead, The Shining, Pet Sematary, House of 1000 Corpses, Night of The Living Dead, Blood Quantum, Talk to Me, Saw (almost all of them), Hellraiser (almost all of them), Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Child’s Play (all), Bride of Chucky, Seed of Chucky, Cult of Chucky, Five Night’s at Freddy’s, and a few more; just ask if you’re curious!

fave musical artists: BTS, Stray Kids, ATEEZ, NCT (most units), The Rose, P1Harmony, SF9, KARD, XG, Le Serrafim, (G)-IDLE, Got7, bbno$, Rob Zombie, KISS, Motörhead, Motley Crue, Led Zeppelin, Great Van Fleet, Guns N Roses, Judas Priest, Pierce the Veil, Motionless in White, Lorna Shore, Bad Omens, Beartooth, and a few more, just ask if you’re curious!

i enjoy many horror novels and books.

i have multiple food allergies, as well as other allergies, and many health problems.

i very much enjoy alcohol.

im all for even exchanging phone numbers (eventually).

my pronouns are she/her, and i was born female and identify with that, but i support trans rights.

im bi.

please ask if you have any questions! 🦇

[prince-princess-bunny]

Im staying off of social media today, I remember the attacks. I was in high school. I saw the second tower collapse live on tv.

I remember the entire state of Minnesota being terrified because al quidah released a list of their next targets and the Mall of America was in the top 3.

I remember people online saying it was Afghanistan and bin laden, and being confused when we declared war on Iraq. I remember my best friend at the time’s family telling me sadame was a bully and we needed to take him down. We watched the first attack live on tv. I remember crying when the missiles launched.

I remember the sudden, terrifying switch to people believing torture is good and necessary. I remember when torture porn became a very popular movie genre.

I remember how terrified immigrants were. An old woman got jumped by a gang of young men. A Sikh man was shot in the head for wearing his turban. Hate crimes were rampant.

I remember actively losing my rights in the name of “freedom.” In 2005, I remember reading about how the bush administration knew something was going to happen and actively let it, just so they could gain more control over American people.

I remember how much useless garbage was being shoved down our throats in the name of the dead. “You are not a true patriot unless you buy this commemorative 9/11 glassware set for 3 installments of $19.99!”

I remember the government plastering pictures of firefighters and cops in hero campaigns. I remember John Stewart fighting for medical care for first responders, because the government abandoned them.

I remember people being told their entire lives that 9/11 was the single worst American tragedy of modern history. I remember, during covid, people becoming outraged over how many people were dying. I saw “thousands of 9/11s” referenced often. I saw people realize how little their governments actually care about their safety.

Ive been seeing a lot of gen z turning 9/11 into memes, and honestly, I don’t blame them. Gen Z didn’t make 9/11 a joke, the fucking government did.

Today I am going to keep to myself and mourn and hold people in my heart. Sending my prayers and love to the countless souls who have died on and because of 9/11.

[genderqueerdykes]

if you don’t feel comfortable answering this ask, it’s perfectly okay and i apologize.

my name is rebecca. i am a young trans girl, who just went on summer break from middle school. my parents are strict, overprotective and transphobic. at school i had access to other trans people. at home i have no way of expressing myself. at school i couldn’t either, but at home i feel disappointed faces staring at me every day. i’m openly trans online. i’m terrified of them finding out that i’m trans, i know they would disown me. but i’m tired of hiding and looking the way i do. i’m tired of my short hair and my thick brows and my boyish outfits. masc presenting trans women are amazing, but i’m just not one of them.

i’m extremely insecure, and i have some makeup hidden under my bed, as well as a bra and a skirt my friend bought me. i would love to go out with my friends as the girl that i am, but i’m horrified of the possibility of my family or other kids from school seeing me and outing me.

do you have any advice?

hello there rebecca, im so sorry you're dealing with this situation right now. i feel like a lot of folks can relate to this- while you may have support in places like school or sometimes even work you may not at home and it's especially hard when you're home from school for the summer or winter. i can totally understand how hard this would be on you right now and i'm sorry that the pressure from being observed by your family is so intense, i would feel the same way

if it's possible, i wonder if you would be able to go hang out at a friend's house and spend time with them there, if you know of anyone who has an accepting home environment? obviously you do NOT have to out yourself to anyone's parents, but if you know someone has accepting parents it may be worth a shot. you could also try to go somewhere fairly isolated, maybe hang out at a natural spot or park or something like that and just be yourselves

that can be a very hard situation to be in, i totally understand being scared of being spotted in public as well. you may be able to see if there are any places in town, like queer bars or other queer organizations in town that are safe for minors or have times for all ages meetups. a lot of places like these will have bathrooms where you could change in and out of your clothes, and you could keep them in a neutral backpack, or something like that!

it would only be an issue if you were seen leaving and folks knew about that location, but the likelihood of your parents or anyone being near a queer location and knowing about it is slim, and even if you came out of one you could say you were visiting a friend, or were curious about an event that they had going on because you saw cool costumes, you were enjoying the music, etc.

if anyone has any more suggestions feel free to add on, we hope you're able to feel more like yourself this summer without your parents getting in your business and stressing you out. you deserve to be able to be yourself, even if it's stressful and scary. i hope we can work something out for you, stay safe for now, rebecca!!

[m34gs]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers ♡

Usually I don't do a lot of chain asks like this but today I feel like it 💜 Thanks for the ask, @synobun 💜💜💜

5 things that make me happy:

Spud. Of course my baby is number one on this list. He's been my angel for the past five years and I adore him so much. He's the best kitty ever and I would do anything for him. He's (very literally) the reason I am still alive today. His floof is healing.

My friends/family. I love my friends, and I'm so happy to finally be living within a half-hour of two of my best friends. They're amazing people and I absolutely love them. My siblings mean the world to me and I am so proud of them. They're both younger than me, and seeing all their accomplishments feels me with so much happiness to see how much they've grown. I love them and I want only the best for them. Jumping off of that, I have a set of cousins older than me who act like older sisters and it makes me feel so loved and wanted every time they invite me over or send me messages. I love them so so so much. I even have many online friends who fill me with joy every day! 💜💜💜💜

Writing. I will never stop writing. Maybe one day I'll publish some of my original works, and then maybe one day I'll publish enough that I can work more casual at my current job, because I love my job and the sense of happiness it can give me, but it is so hard some days and I'm still recovering from a fullblown burnout 2 years ago (they say it takes 3-5 years to fully recover, and I'm doing my best to give myself time but it's hard some days). Anyway; I have stories to tell, thoughts and ideas to share, and a whole lotta world-building that I've been dying to get down on paper. I will be writing until I die, guaranteed.

Singing. I sing all the time. I sing in the car, I sing while I cook, I sing while I clean, I sing along to music while I write, and sometimes I just sing while I'm not doing anything. Music makes me happy, and I need to express myself through music. Even if I'm singing a sad song, the catharsis it gives me makes me feel satisfied and content after.

Horror movies. Is anyone surprised at this point? I watch them on my own, with friends, at home, in theatres...I just love them. They're so fun! And deal with such interesting topics. I love the discussion some of them can bring up. (I do not love the discussion of what "should be" allowed in horror. Horror is subjective. Also, if it makes you highly disgusted and/or disturbs you, then it likely *does* belong in horror. Like, name a better genre for that? smh, some people...) I love love love learning about my favourite horror movies too. Like, everything I know that is "extra" or "behind the scenes" on Hellraiser fills me with such joy. I adore the Saw movies. Human Centipede, my beloved. Crimson Peak. Terrifier. Misery. There's just so many I find interesting and enjoy watching! The special effects are so cool; especially the practical effects and makeup. Like, ok ok, sidetrack, but DID YOU KNOW in Misery, the famous hobbling scene? Kathy Bates used a real sledgehammer and swung hard. The legs on the bed? Those were prosthetic legs built to look like James Caan's legs, made out of gelatin, PVC pipe, and a hinge in the ankles. The camera zoomed in completely focused on the hammer and legs, which made the iconic scene. Anyway, I love that tidbit and if you didn't know it before, well now you do :D (source 1; source 2)

[historixally-accurate]

forward rolls into your inbox :3

good evening.....morning.....teehee....(i am assuming you are seeing this at 9am, which in case....hope you are enjoying your breakfast! and also. wow, that is a healthy sleep schedule for an SG student newly lavishing in the freedom of the holidays.) im rewlly happy you dont mind me rolling into your inbox every day. i love doing it. seriously. like you said, it feels like using Singpost and writing letters. its part of why i love tumblr and its askboxes.

saying that youre struggling with MOE past year papers/different school papers is so damn relatable. i'm just grateful im not in pri sch anymore where teachers woukd be dispensing that shit like water at the water cooler. LMAO

youre a kazuha liker huh? my friend is too. so as a birthday present, i drew kazuha with weed on the class whiteboard once for their birthday. i knew next to nothing about his lore but their expression of utter despair was worth it.

YOU MADE YOUR PLD LOCKSCREEN TALKINGMIME?!?!?!?!? thats kinda genius too. i woukd scream and panic if i saw this in public btw. and flounder in panic and joy like a pathetic fish. blub

Im still pretty new to mcsr in general, but i actually followed an unusual pipeline into it: unlike most people being introduced via couri or feinberg, i actually entered via 21mustard.... more specufically the vid about his online friend trying to find him again. i like 21mustard and zylenox :3 and emerald (ithink), fein, mr lewis fulham, poundcake, fyroah and ofc mr mime. im still exploring though. im charmed by k4's mic peaks. it took me ages to strart putting names to faces and then voices...

as for my own speedrunning, i unfortunately do not play any noteworthy speedrunning games. however, i am currently trying to speedrun Minesweeper! its going pretty well.

as always, i hope youre doing well, whenever youre reading this. - sgmcsr anon

GOOD MORNING.. I'm replying to this a little too late (it's 12pm), but IDGAF LETS ROLL!!

I love opening inbox and answering asks, it's like. you get a silly letter every single day to answer and. i get why the people in the past really fucked w this... it's really awesome. anyway.

about MOE and exams, ohh thank god I'm not in primary school anymore, that PSLE grind was HORRIBLE. having to do like. what, 20 page papers for math (paper 1 or 2 alone!!) and all of them being really difficult questions really fucked w my brain... at least papers now are semi tolerable and I can do them 🤷 I remember in primary school my science teacher handed us like.. 5 past year papers to do over June holidays, and I was COOKED. anyway

about genshin, LMAOOOO FUCK THATS HILARIOUS... I'd be terrified too if I saw kazuha smoking a blunt for my birthday like. the aura that exudes. holy schmoly

about talkingmime, YEAH.. my PLD lock screen is actually that one silly art piece of everyone who played pico park, and on my home screen is a small talkingmime doodle... I am normal, totally! I must be normal! fun fact, my phone lock screen is silverrruns. Hehe. this photo specifically

yeah. Hehe. and my home screen is a really pretty nEmerald drawing... :3

about speedrunners THOSE ARE A BUNCHA GOOD PICKS... k4's mic peaks are legendary.. yay. NEMERALD AND FYROAH.. ohh. I love them very muchie. I even drew them. they're so skibidi to me.

about speedrunning, minesweeper speedrunning is verg cool. I've always wanted to learn how to play minesweeper... but it's always so scarrryyy... I should learn how to play it one day, on skibidi..

IM FINISHING THIS AT 1 34 PM. IM STUCK IN MATH TUITION RN. I love your singposts , thank u sg anon have a skibidi day

[sycopomp]

Original work is very cool and all but what about ooie? 😭

I'm not going to sugar-coat how rude this is. Do you realize that? I'm not a machine that exists to cater to your interests. I'm a human being that is creating things.

The Sun and Moon fandom inspired me to create, for the first time in a long time, and that was huge for me. It brought me friends and community like nothing else had in years. It gave me the encouragement to start writing ooie. And most importantly, it has given me patience while I am going through one of the roughest patches of my life. For that, to the community that has supported me, I cannot thank them enough.

Something I have struggled with all of my creative life, to no one's surprise, is finishing projects. I've started countless books, but the pressure of publishing was overwhelming. So I tried thinking about posting online, and even then, my perfectionism got its claws into me, and the projects died before they saw the light of day. I don't think a single one of my followers, no matter how long they've been following me, could tell me the name of the main characters of any of my original creative stories. Not one. The main characters. Because they've never left the drafts.

And finally, a couple months ago, I had a complete mental health crisis over my absolute lack of having any completed original projects to show for my nearly two decades of creative writing. It made me question whether it's worth being a good writer at all, if I can't finish anything. Do you know how terrifying that was, to have my conviction shaken in the one thing I had always been proud of? The one thing I had practically staked all of my self-worth onto?

I am fortunate enough to have an incredible support circle. My qpp spent a week straight with me while I was in utter shambles. I'm slowly recovering, but I'm still fragile.

A few weeks ago, I approached the idea of writing an original story again. I spoke with a close friend of mine, and they helped me realize one of the flaws in the way I approach writing my original stories. I took this newfound knowledge and set out to find a story that I could write; a self-contained, entirely independent story that I could talk about freely online (because I know myself, and I am a creature that thrives off of encouragement and validation) and share with the people who I know enjoy my writing. I had a strategy.

Today, I took the first step in executing that strategy. I talked about my story! They The Heartless. As far as working titles go (by which I mean, pulled it outta my ass when the time came to tag my post), I'm pretty proud of it.

I see my friends talk about their OCs and their stories, and I love supporting them and seeing the support they get from their followers.

I have also seen them get asks just like this. This blasé cool, don't care attitude. It's always made me so angry and so scared, because I never want to see my friends get discouraged from creating their original stories. And it's shit like this that kills inspiration.

This isn't a fucking restaurant where you order what you want off a menu. You came to an artist's personal blog and actually thought it was fine to go "sure sure sure, YOUR story, fine, but what about this FANFICTION that I care about?" while I'm happily sharing something that I'm excited about creating. And you actually thought that was okay.

So to reiterate:

You are not entitled to my creativity, time, energy, or mental health-- all of which go into writing

I will, as I always have, write whatever I damn well please, because it is my passion

[s-toryteller]

Joy Family, part 19

Lilly had been dedicating herself to self-improvement over the past few months. She had taken up painting, finding solace and expression in the colors and brushstrokes that filled her canvases. It started as a way to distract herself from the lingering thoughts of Max and the complicated feelings she had for Thomas, but soon, it became something more—a passion, a small source of income, and a way to reclaim a piece of herself that had been lost for so long.

Her small studio apartment was now filled with paintings in various stages of completion. Some were bold and vibrant, others softer and more introspective. She’d even started selling a few pieces online, surprised by how much people appreciated her work. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make her feel like she was moving forward, piece by piece, stroke by stroke.

One afternoon, as she was finishing a landscape painting that she had been working on for days, her phone rang. The name on the screen made her heart skip a beat. It was Max.

She hesitated for a moment before answering, unsure of what to expect. “Hello?”

“Lilly, hi. It’s Max,” came the familiar voice, a mixture of warmth and uncertainty. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but I was wondering if you could come over. I… I think we need to talk.”

Lilly’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t seen Max since their unexpected encounter in the park, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face him again. But something in his voice told her that this conversation was important, something that couldn’t be put off any longer.

“Okay,” she found herself saying. “I’ll come over.”

“Thanks for coming,” Max said as they sat down. His hands were clasped together, and he seemed to be searching for the right words. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since we last saw each other.”

“So have I,” Lilly replied, her voice calm but cautious.

Max took a deep breath. “I know things ended badly between us, and I’ve regretted a lot of what happened. Losing my mom made me realize how much I’ve lost, how much I’ve taken for granted. And… I miss you, Lilly. I miss what we had.”

Lilly felt a lump rise in her throat. She had spent so much time trying to move on, to bury her feelings for him, but hearing him say those words brought everything rushing back. “Max, I—” she started, but he gently cut her off.

“I know I hurt you, and I know you’ve been trying to move on. I don’t want to complicate things for you, but I needed to tell you how I feel. I never stopped caring about you, and I just… I wanted you to know that."

"I know that my mom told you to break up with me." he said.

Lilly looked at him, her emotions swirling. She had been so focused on healing herself, on finding her own path, that she hadn’t considered the possibility that Max might still care for her, that he might be struggling with the same feelings she had been trying to push away.

“Max,” she began, her voice soft but steady, “I’ve been trying to work on myself, to learn who I am without you, without anyone. I needed that time to heal. But I can’t deny that I still have feelings for you, too. It’s just… everything’s so complicated now.”

Max nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “I know it is. I don’t expect you to have all the answers right now. I just wanted to be honest with you, to see if maybe… there’s still a chance for us. Even if it’s just as friends for now.”

Lilly took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision before her. She had come so far, and the idea of reopening that chapter with Max was both terrifying and tempting. But there was a part of her that still cared deeply for him, that longed for the connection they once had.

“Maybe we can start with being friends,” she said finally, her voice trembling slightly. “I think we both need time to figure things out. But I’m willing to try.”

Max smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I’d like that, Lilly. I really would.”

And then, she did the most stupid thing she could possible do after saying "Let`s be friends". She kissed him.

And more...

[endingwari]

Dreams

I just recently wanted to post online every dream I had and this is the second one that I wanted to post, the first one is 'Husband'. If you found this post, I hope you share yours too and feel free to translate whatever my dreams says. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ 'Demon'

I will never forget this dream because it marks the first time I experienced sleep paralysis.

I found myself in the center of nothingness, devoid of furniture or any sign of life. It was silent except for a soft, rhythmic beeping - 'beep' 'beep' - reminiscent of a lifeline machine in a hospital. Suddenly, the scene shifted to a hospital ward.

In real life, my friend was scheduled for an operation the next morning, and in this dream, I saw her lying in bed. As I observed, a dark shadow began to show above her. I tried to picture it, but my eyes failed me, closing involuntarily instead of just squinting.

When I opened my eyes again, a demon loomed over her! It appeared as a shadow, devoid of the typical horns and tails we associate with such beings, but its bloodshot eyes were unmistakable. Its focus seemed fixed on my friend, and I shouted, 'Stay away from her!'

The demon turned its attention towards me, flying at me and pinning me to the floor. It had no words, but I could clearly see its features up close - its skin resembling a charred log. Growls emanated from it as it smiled maniacally. I struggled to free myself but found my body immobilized.

Desperate to get out of this dream, I managed to glimpse my room with half-closed eyes, still fighting against the 'demon's' grip. It whispered to me, its voice husky and barely comprehensible, 'I will take you as a replacement for your friend.' Though I couldn't speak, I refused to surrender. 'Lord, please help me,' I silently pleaded.

'You cannot win,' it taunted.

'Rebuke,' I thought desperately.

'In Jesus's name! I rebuke you, evil!!'

"REBUKEEEE!!"

With that cry, I finally spoke and woke up from the terrifying nightmare, waiting anxiously for the sun to rise.

Since that experience, I've had numerous episodes of sleep paralysis. Each one brought its own horrors - from a grim reaper seeking to claim my soul to other malevolent entities. Yet, with each encounter, I grew more resilient. I can now say I am well-experienced and unafraid of facing it again in the future. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ This happened during my darkest times in high school, and so far, this is the dream that felt the most real to me. I checked on my friend the next day, and her mom said her operation was a success. And this year, 2024... she's now healthy and living her best life. P.S. The image that I inserted is not really how the demon in my dream looks like—it is just AI-generated.

[sirchubbybunny]

It's still "early" and I don't think I'm going to go to bed yet. But I'm having a thinking out loud moment again, which could be from me being out of it for much of the day.

I'm thinking about my relationships to other people and how two years ago, one of my goals in life was to leave the US and possibly move to Iceland or Japan to get away from all the conflict going on here. Any place is better than here, I thought. It was mostly just big pipe dream type of stuff, not something I saw realistically happening even though I took the idea of taking my Japanese language proficiency tests quite seriously at the time.

Now, I'm here back where I started. I'll sometimes find myself thinking about how I want to go backpacking across other countries with some friends and see the world with them. I can see myself taking them with me to Japan or Iceland for a few weeks as a part of a collective bucket list thing. But moving there? No, not at all anymore. Yeah, having a bit of a wake up call to some of the negative things is part of it; especially the natural disasters. But, no. Something more hit me harder in a profound way that solidified to me that I've never be able to commit to it.

It's not leaving the little things about my hometown behind, like the music and art scene or the locales. It's the irreplaceable friendships I've made since the pandemic started and the idea of being half way around the world from them is honestly terrifying. Yeah, we could still stay in touch online, but with the sheer physical distance, I might as well be on Mars. But the thing is, if they ever wanted me to go on a huge trip with them - I would without a second thought. I'd overcome my fear of flying and my social anxiety (no thanks to all the gun violence here in the States) to be by their side. I think I could honestly be swayed to possibly moving to another state or distant place with them if they popped the question.

Would it be difficult? Yeah.

Would it be scary? Absolutely.

Would I be potentially shooting myself in the foot? 100%, full stop.

I was telling my mutuals this recently. I have made a name for myself to some extent here in my hometown. I'm not "famous" or anything like some of my acquaintances and old school friends who are established filmmakers, musicians, artists, public speakers and event planners. But, I'm recognized at local art events, been in the paper, and stuff like that. I have so many connections and resources (especially in a medical sense). In a way, I'd be a fool to take a massive gamble and throw a lot of that away to take a chance like moving to another place to start over.

And yet, I feel like if things ever change for me, I think it's something I'd do or heavily consider. As long as I have good friends by my side, there's nothing I can't do and I think the ones I have here in my area would be supportive. I suppose I just think about all of that and the people who came into the picture over the last three years and how much they've changed my life for the better. I'm not the same person I was back then and I don't want to imagine where I'd be if it wasn't for them. We've been a source of support and comfort for each other.

We helped one another through so many sleepless nights and trudge through countless storms, the ones that devour the sun and black out the sky. With what feels like superficial effort to those on the outside, they always found a way to pull me from it and I've done that for them as well. I said something like this the other day about how I've just been stuck in this fog for a while, completely burned out on all my art and ambitions, and feeling utterly defeated with the top surgery consultation getting cancelled. One friend swooped in and gave me the warmest, tightest, affirming hug and it was hard to not want to cry and that words will never encapsulate how eternally grateful and thankful I am for her being so loving and supportive of me. I think about stuff like that a lot and how reciprocal it is, and that I'm always in her corner like she is for me.

I don't know. I guess all of this is to say that even though I don't see myself going anywhere anytime soon realistically, I'd put so much on the line to just travel or go on huge adventures with someone like her; especially when it comes to wanting to cut ties with toxic people in our lives as a means to move on and heal from our trauma - even when it comes to those I've "patched" things up with. It's hard at times to think about them, be around them, or just think about certain things without it bringing up old memories. Yet, with these friends who I've made, it's not like that at all. They aren't the people who hurt me, my trauma, or the negativity in my head. ... and I can see myself starting over with them if they asked me if I wanted to.

Maybe I should go to bed... I'm going to have too much racing around if I keep at it.

[ramp-it-up]

The One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warmings:  18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, running, a raging argument in an established relationship, name calling, taunting, drunken raging, Twitter. SMUT, explicit, rough sex, fingering, tit slapping, orgasm denial, spitting, oral sex (mostly female receiving). Also, I’m sleepy. 😴

A/N: Not proofread. Also, I know very little about Chris and Jenny, and have no real opinion about their relationship. I made up the scenario about what happened there for the purposes of the story. THANKS FOR 400 FOLLOWERS TONIGHT! 🥳🎉🎊🍾👏🏽🎈

This fic is based on the following ask:

Anonymous asked:

Imagine idea :

Chris is drunk after a fight with the reader. He was On Twitter and saw some pics with Jenny and when the reader comes in he screams at her and says that Jenny was the one and not the reader. The reader get sad because she was always kind of insecure about the age gap with Chris. The day after he didn’t know what he says and she don’t say anything because she got the feeling that he was right. But one thing both didn’t noticed that Chris was drunk calling Scott and he knows everything Chris says and drive to Chris to give him a good clamp ahahhaha Chris was drunk and Just mentioned her name because he saw a post with Jenny.

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

It had been the perfect day.

You slept in, then had a late brunch at home. 

You saw a message from Chris’ former co-star, Heidi, light up his phone that he’d plugged in on the kitchen counter when you two were tidying up.

You wondered why he was texting the bitch even after you told him that she wanted him. And after he agreed to cut off contact out of respect for you.

Heated, you didn’t even look around before you picked it up, put in his code and read a string of friendly, if not borderline flirty, texts.

Chris walked in the kitchen, caught you, and yelled at you for being in his phone. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“Exactly! What is going on, Chris. I thought we talked about this?” 

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s a big fucking deal.”

You threw his phone on the marble countertop, which caused Chris to pick it up to see if it was cracked. Your temper was too much.

“We’re just friends! She knows we’re together, y/n!” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“And I know women, Chris. That doesn’t fucking matter to her. Sometimes you’re so oblivious. Or act like you are.” You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“I know you want to leave me for someone more glamorous and beautiful. Someone who will put up with your shit, everyone the media says you’re fucking. Go ahead and just do it!”

Chris’s temper was really rising now. You could tell as the red creeped up his chest to his neck. 

“Stop fucking saying that!” Chris was screaming now. “Is that what you want? To end it? Because you don’t have to make me do it. If you want to leave, just leave.”

You said shit like that a lot. And it scared and angered him. He wanted to know if you were trying to make him break up with you so you would be free.

“Why are you being such a fucking…” Chris stopped himself. He knew better than to call you out of your name.

Your head almost spun around. You smiled evilly. 

“Go ahead, say what you wanna say, Chris. Or are you scared?”

Chris exploded. “A fucking BITCH.”  He was shaking because you went there.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not fucking anyone else!”

Chris lost it and punched the wall, making a hole in the drywall and definitely injuring his hand.

You just stood there with your mouth open and in silence. You went toward him to look at his hand, and he just put both of them up, backing away from you and going to the liquor cabinet.

He retreated to the deck with a bottle of Jameson’s. He wanted to dull the pain, in his hand, and in his heart. He hated when you hurt each other.

You understood that you both crossed the line, so you let him be. You went upstairs to change into your running clothes to get out and clear your head.

Chris settled on a deck lounger, started drinking from the bottle and got online, which is never a good thing, but he needed something to distract him. He started reading tweets about himself, and following a thread of Chris + Jenny stans.

The more he drank, the more he started reminiscing.

There were good times. He was happy. Mostly. He thought she was the one. Sometimes. But she broke his heart. He was just a rebound. 

Her handsome arm candy.

Then he thought of you. His heart melted; you really loved him. He was sure of it. But loving him was hard. He realized that you felt the same way about him that he felt about Jenny. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Insecure. 

And you had good reason to be. Everything you’d said about women coming after him was true. But what you didn’t realize is that since he’d met you other women didn’t matter to him. 

You were the one, not Jenny.

Chris began to get melancholy. He’d fucked up. You were nothing but good to him and you just asked him to respect you and listen to your feelings. He’d ignored that. 

Shit, why did he yell at you like that?  

He went to erase Heidi’s contact and block her number. He was confident that you were never going to throw him away like Jenny did. She was the one who’d hurt him. Not you. Never you. He recognized that you wouldn’t ever hurt him on purpose.

His mind was racing with how to apologize when you came back. He was an idiot. The pain in his heart was replaced with regret and his hand had slowed to a dull throb.

But then 30 minutes turned to 3 hours, and by the time you got back, the bottle was empty and Chris’s eyes were red with rage and worry. 

Maybe you were just like Jenny after all.

--------

You ran, and then went to get some coffee. You ran into Shelby at the cafe and distracted yourself with mindless chatter, then walked back. You were ready to apologize by the time you opened the door.

When he heard the door, Chris picked up his phone and met you in the living room. He was obviously shitfaced.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?” 

Chris’s voice boomed throughout the house and you jumped. Then you just stood there, shocked at his outburst. 

“The hell are you talking to me like that?” 

He was unsteady on his feet. He leaned toward you, and you could tell that someone was spinning the room for him.

“I don’t want it to be you!” 

He had to let you know that he knew that you wouldn’t be the one to hurt him. Chris pointed his phone at you. 

“You’re not the one. Jenny’s the only one. Not you! Not ever you!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. But then again you could. It was what you were afraid of. You were head over heels. And Chris could find someone on his level. Like Jenny.

“Well, Fuck You very much, Chris.” 

You brushed your tears away and ran past him up the stairs to the bedroom, locking the door and crying your eyes out. You got out your suitcase.

----

Chris started up after you, calling your name, and then suddenly needed to duck in the downstairs bathroom to throw up. 

He tried to make it up the stairs and had to sit down on the floor near the bottom. Then, he needed to lay down just for a minute.

The next thing Chris knew, it was morning, and he woke up to a pounding on the door and in his head. He rolled over on the floor, and something stabbed him in the side.

Groaning, he reached down and saw your keys to his house, his cars, and his life, all on the Tiffany heart keychain he’d given them to you. He was staring at them, confused, when Scott opened the door with his key.

“There he is. My brother. The fuck up.”

Chris groaned again, sat up on the bottom stair and held his head. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nevermind me. It’s not often I get to say that, only when you publish your dick pic to the internet or you RUN OFF THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO YOU!”

Chris winced when Scott yelled, his head a pounding mass of meat wrapped in fuzzy cotton. 

He didn’t understand why he was being tortured and he didn’t understand why his hand hurt.  He looked at it, all bruised up, and the keys inside it.

“Just tell me, Scott. Why are you here?”

Scott leaned up against the door. 

“Did you know you drunk dialed me last night?” 

Chris looked up at Scott, and his face was a sight as his brother told him what he’d said to you.

“Fuuuuuck me!” He put his head in his hands again. 

“I don’t know if she ever will again,” Scott joked, but Chris didn’t laugh. 

“I called her after you apparently passed out and wouldn't pick up your phone.  She was ready to catch an early morning flight, but I convinced her to sleep in today and leave tomorrow.”

Chris moved his hands down from his eyes and stared out the patio doors, trying to think.

“I put her up in the Four Seasons, on your dime of course.  Room 6145. Penthouse. Could be pretty romantic. If she were in that kind of mood.”

Chris looked up at Scott, smiled weakly, jumped up and hugged him, then made for the door. Scott jumped in front of him.

“Trust me, you’ll want to get some water and coffee in you, and shower and brush your teeth. You look and smell like shit.”

“Right.” Chris nodded, flexing his hand. He could still move it. He was glad it wasn’t broken. “Thanks, bro.”

“No problem.” Scott walked into the bathroom as Chris went to the kitchen, groaning when he saw the hole in the wall. He’d have to ask Scott to get it fixed before you saw it again. 

If he could convince you to come back.

----

It was 11 am, and Scott had verified that you were still in the room. Chris just stood there, nervous and terrified that you were just going to be done with him.

Room service came and headed toward your door. Chris waved them down and when they saw his face, they stopped in their tracks, shocked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

----

You climbed out of the wonderful deep jetted tub, having soaked until the water got cold and your fingers were wrinkled. You pulled on the plush Four Seasons terry cloth robe that was provided with the suite.

You felt calmer than last night, and after some sleep and relaxation, you realized that you’d been a fool to think that Chris would want you forever like you thought.

It was for the best that you leave and start over, to focus on your consulting business and yourself for a while.

You opened the door with a smile on your face for the attendant, and you let them into the room, your back turned to the door while they brought the cart in. You turned back around and there was Chris.

You grew heated, and your heart began to race while the attendant scurried out. Chris’s face was a welcome sight, but you were still angry.

There you were, looking so beautiful, curls tied up in your favorite silk scarf, cocoa skin radiant in a white fluffy robe.  You should have been comfortable, but your eyes were wide and scared.

He’d done this to you.

“Fuck, y/n… I…”

You interrupted him. 

“You’ve got some mutha fuckin nerve. How dare you just run up in here, using that fucking face,” you flung your hand up, “using who you are to get into my room. How did you even know where…?”  

Your mouth dropped open at the realization of what Scott had done. You turned on your heel to get your things. You didn’t care that you were naked under your robe. You didn’t care that you still loved Chris. You were out. This second.

Chris moved to block you from entering the bedroom of the suite. You tried to push past him, all 5’ 4” of you versus 6 feet of him.

“Move, Chris!” 

You glared up at him, your body responding to him in ways you weren’t prepared to admit. You were betrayed by your pussy.

“I just want you to listen to me.  Then you can leave, stay, do whatever you want. Just hear me out.”

You and him physically was always the shit. His arms across his chest did things to you  But you kept mean mugging him, making him hard for you. 

You stepped back and said, “Okay.  You have 10 minutes.  Then I’m out, Chris.”

You paced back to the couch in the living room of the suite, watching him warily.

Chris paced in front of you, making it inevitable that you follow his lean form back and forth across the carpet. You noticed that his hand was bandaged and that he kept flexing it. 

You hoped it wasn’t broken. No matter what, you cared what happened to him. You would always love him. Even if it was the end of your relationship.

“First of all, I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me, and I was violent and that is never acceptable.  Even though I didn’t touch you, it’s not ok, and I know it was intimidating. I take responsibility.”

He stopped and looked at you, you melted a little, but you didn’t give any outward sign. Being a business owner taught you a mean poker face. 

But the shirt he was wearing made his true blue eyes pop and you could see a hint of his chain around his neck under the fitted henley.

You suppressed a shiver at the memory of the things you did to have that chain and medallion wave in your face, to have it clenched between your teeth as Chris had his way with you, and you with him.

You focused on him, pointedly looking at your watch. Chris’ anxiety peaked when he saw that.

He stepped toward you and thought that he recognized the look in your eyes.  He was almost sure that you still wanted him, sure that you still cared.  He could only hope as he came closer.

“And then I started drinking. And while you were gone, I came across some posts about me and Jenny. And it took me back there.”

At those words, you crossed your arms and averted your eyes, defenses up. You didn’t want to hear about how much he loved Jenny.

Then, Chris swiftly moved to sit on his haunches, becoming eye level with you.  

“And I realized that she never really loved me. Not like you loved me.”  

Chris speaking about your love in the past tense made you a little angry and you stared him in the eyes. 

It was just the reaction he hoped for. Your attitude. He loved it. He hid a smirk so that he could continue, but you saw the glimmer in his eyes. And you rolled yours.

Chris then picked up the sash to your robe and started playing with it, your eyes drawn to his thick fingers. You didn’t know why that was getting you hot, but it was. You opened your mouth to breathe.

Chris’s voice cracked when he said. “And to me she was the mountaintop. Another, different kind of conquest. But I realized that I never really loved her. Not like I love you.”

Present tense.

Now you were looking into his eyes, about to fall into them. Shit. He had you hooked. But then you remembered, and drew back.

“Yeah, I know what I said, but what I was trying to express was that I know it could never be you to hurt me like Jenny did. That I didn’t want you to hurt me like she did. Not when I’ve thought about forever…” 

He moved even closer. “I mean forever, forever, with you.”

All of a sudden you couldn’t breathe. Chris got on his knees.

“I want to be in this position again with you one day. One day soon. But not like this. I don’t want it to be to try to get you back. I want us to be good.” 

He sighed, pensive. “I want you to be smiling and happy, and even have our families there.”

You don’t know how your face looked at that moment, but Chris started smiling at you. You were so beautiful to him right now.

“I was drunk, and I couldn’t use my words correctly. I yelled and I screamed and I punched the wall. I fucked up and may have lost you forever, but I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

You felt yourself get emotional, but you tried to calm down.

“I’m just so fucking scared that you will get tired of all the bullshit that comes with me and leave… and I absolutely wouldn’t blame you. But there’s no one else, y/n.  No one else can compare…”

“Chris…” 

You raised your hand to his face, eyes searching his. You could tell he was being honest.

Chris grabbed your hand and started kissing your palm.

“So.” He looked at you with those eyes. “Is this goodbye?…” His lips were giving you shivers. “Or hello again? Can we start over?”

Chris trailed his lips from your palm, to the pulse point at your wrists and lingered there, licking the delicate skin. Then he moved up your arm to the opening in the robe. 

He pushed his torso in between your legs and leaned into your neck, inhaling the lavender bath oil that was your favorite. And his, too. 

He moaned as you leaned your head to the side, giving him access. But he didn't just want the physical. He breathed into the shell of your ear. 

“Please come home, baby…”

You just moaned as he started sucking right below your ear, your spot. Desire took over for Chris when he heard your sounds.

“Fuck it. I can tell that you still want me. If this is goodbye, then I’m going to make it worth your time.”

Your back arched and Chris palmed your bounteous ass over the robe, pulling you flush to his crotch.  He smiled as he felt the warmth coming from you.

“You’re so fucking warm, babe. Are you wet, too?  Are you wet for me? Do you want my cock? I mean, do you want your thick, fat, cock to fuck you babe?” 

Chris was kissing down your neck into the cleavage that the robe was revealing with each sentence as you opened your legs. Your pussy was quivering for him, but you still didn’t answer him.

Chris looked up at you with those eyes and pulled on the robe sash. It fell open and he looked down and bit his lip, taking in your warm skin, lovely breasts, and elegant pussy, with the manicured triangle of hair kept like he preferred, and offered up for his taking. 

You still looked like his girl, and he smiled as he looked up into your eyes. But he had to be certain. He lowered his head, keeping eye contact and descended toward one small hard mountain peak, kissing it gently, tentatively, while watching you.

You were mesmerized as his tongue peeked out and licked it, then he opened his lips and enveloped it, moistening it with his pink lips. 

The look on your face compelled him, and he fully enveloped your nipple and started sucking roughly, still keeping eye contact. You were determined not to close your eyes, but it was difficult. You bit your lip to stay still.

Chris’s bandaged hand was dangerous, however, and it came up to pinch and roll your other nipple. You arched into his hand as he became rougher and rougher. 

He switched nipples and hands and his saliva made your breast that much more pliable and sensitive. He slapped it, and then rubbed it with the rough bandage, making you cry out and moan as his other hand trailed down your body to your cunt.

“This pussy will still be mine, even if you leave me.” He smiled cockily while looking down on it. 

He looked at you, before lifting his hand to his mouth, looking straight into your eyes and spitting on his fingers before bringing them down to your cunt.

“I think, that if even if you leave and  move back to Houston, and I come to town, that if I I call you, even if you’re with someone else, you would meet me in a parking lot and let me fuck you over the hood of my rental car.” 

He was faintly tracing your pussy lips and instantly your control was gone. You were sopping wet, because of his words and because of the knowledge that what he was saying was the truth.

“Oh,” was all you could say. You were adding to the wetness of the saliva on his fingers.

Chris smiled and tilted his head as his two thick digits breached your opening. He had his answer as you threw your head back and let him finger fuck you while he rolled and slapped and pinched your nipple.

His thumb was lightly brushing your clit and you wanted so much more.  Chris could sense that and he pressed down roughly on it, causing an electric jolt up your body, which you keened for, arching your body into his hand.

Chris moved his hand from your breast to your neck and applied the pressure that you wanted and needed and that he was expert at while he stuffed another finger inside you and circled your clit with his thumb. 

You floated among the clouds as you came like fireworks, and all over his hand.  

He watched you come undone, and come down, rubbing his hard cock through his pants with one hand while he sucked your juices off his fingers, releasing each with a loud pop.  When you opened your eyes, you smiled.

You pulled his hand and started licking yourself off him, flattening your tongue against his palm. 

“I forgive you Chris. I forgave you when you conned your way into my room, you ass.” 

You smiled against his hand as he groaned, relieved and desperate for you.

“But you still have some work to do.”

“What do you want? Anything.”  

Now Chris was breathless, anticipating payback.

“First, you need to take those damn clothes off.”

He quickly moved to take off his shirt, and then stood up to take off his pants.  You smirked as hs cock sprang up immediately when he peeled them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Chris caught your look. 

“What? I wanted to be prepared.”  He chuckled softly while pumping his cock lightly, expecting to immediately fuck you.

He moved toward you. But you quickly moved off the couch and into the bedroom, forcing him to follow you, and his dick, into the other room.

You sat on the edge of the bed as he remained standing. 

“What do you need, babe?”

You reached for his cock and tugged it toward you, opening your mouth and deep throating it, wetting it from root to tip and then spit on it. Chris moaned as you started to stroke. Then you stopped.

“I need you to jack off for me.” 

“Ugh! You’re so fucking nasty. I love you.”

Chris instantly started where you left off. This didn’t seem like work.

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him, and licking your lips.

“And I need for you not to stop, and not to come. Until I tell you.” 

You looked him in the eye and that was when Chris knew he was doomed.  A chill ran down his spine as you reached down and started playing with your pussy.

“Fuck!”

You looked so damn good.  He licked his lips and stroked harder and faster, his balls drawing up already. 

“Shit, y/n.”

You watched his eyes, and got wetter at his blown pupils and glazed look. 

“You like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”  

His voice was broken and desperate. He fisted his cock, and held his balls, trying to stave off the inevitable. 

You turned around, got on your knees and reached back between your legs and ran your fingers up and down your slit.

“How about that?”

“Goddamnit!” 

Chris grunted as he tried to hold it in. You were a goddess. He licked his lips. Wanting to taste you. So he did. 

He dove in, tongue competing with your fingers to command your slit. You finally gave in to his expert mouth and he savored your salty goodness.

“Fuck, Chris, you better still be…”

“I am. Christ.” 

He was leaking in his hand, but he had it under control. Barely.

Chris stopped eating you out for a second, grabbed your ass cheek with one hand, stretched you open, spit on your tighter hole, and watched it slide down your satin lips to drip onto the bed. 

His warm saliva made your pussy quiver and he watched it lovingly. Then he dove in again.

He sped up his movements with his other hand and you could hear the smooth skin of his dick sliding on his palm while his tongue did forbidden things to you.

“Ffffffuuckkkkkkk! Chrisssss.” 

You came, burying your scream in the mattress, and even harder than before. You couldn’t believe that he’d turned the tables on you.

Chris ate you out through your orgasm, holding you down with one hand like it was nothing. 

He was god of war, love, and sex, all at once. 

Fuck Captain America.

You came again, almost immediately.

When he was done with his meal, he let you go, wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand and stepped back.

“Fuck, what do you want me to do? I can’t take it much longer…” Chris’s sexy growling voice got to you. 

“What do you wanna do, Chris? How do you want to take me, Daddy?”  Chris’s cock jumped in his hand, he slapped your ass, and watched it jiggle.

Chris entered your wet, wet pussy, and marvel how if felt like it was choking the life out of him.  He had to stop moving, or he would burst almost immediately.

“How the fuck are you so wet, but so tight.  It’s like a fucking vice grip, geeze.” 

You both waited and felt it jump inside you, then Chris reached down, grabbed you by the neck and pulled you upright and flush to his chest.  

One hand clutched your throat and the other arm hooked under your leg, allowing him to piston up into you upright while your other leg dangled, your big toe barely touching the ground.

Chris held you and fucked up into you, grunting each time the large mushroom cap head of his cock was stuffed into your pussy. 

“Ugh, gatdamn it, you were thinking of leaving, ugh, you wanted to leave this, mmmmmm, this dick that, ugh, that fucks you like this?” 

Chris’s mouth was near your ear, which was on his shoulder because your head had fallen back on his chest. He was using you like a sex toy as he fucked you senseless. 

His dick slicked in and out of you with obscene wetness, Chris somehow lifting you up and slipping completely out of you and pounding back into you with force.

“Chris!!!” 

You started shaking, your center of gravity being where you and he were connected.

He fucked you even harder and faster, chasing his release, but he maneuvered his hand to find your clit, refusing to come before you. 

“Fuck! You know you were going to miss this cock that your sweet cunt fits… like…  a …mutha …fuckin…  glove!” 

"Ahhhh!" 

You screamed as you fluttered around his cock. He could take only so much before he had to shut his eyes and bite down on your collarbone. Chris’s legs were trembling now.

"Take all of it!." He was hitting your spot.  "How does it feel?" 

Although the feeling was intense, you tried to speak. 

"L-l-l-like h-heav-v-v-ennnnn." 

The sound of your voice made his release start to build. 

With each of his thrusts, the sweet tightness began to build until you came, screaming and moaning in pleasure.

“Oh shiiiiitttttt!”  Chris exploded inside your tight wet cunt. He wanted to fill you up like never before. He wanted to put his baby in you and tie you forever to him. That made his balls empty.

He fell back on the bed, with you on top of him, slipping out of you and depositing you on the bed beside him.

Chris couldn't help but smile as you both came down.  He was made for this.

Chris put his hand on your cheek, brushing your beautiful lips with his thumb. You smiled under his attention into his sea blue eyes.

“I love you.” You grinned. 

“God, I love you.”  You sobered up, taking in the weight of his words.

“Is it weird that I want to get you pregnant before we’re married?”

You made a face.

“Who says I want to marry you?”

Chris scooped you in his arms and rolled you over on top of him.

“You don’t want to marry me? You’d say no if I asked?” 

You held in a giggle.

“Nah. I’m gonna move back to Houston and marry someone else so you can come in town and fuck me over the hood of your rental car. That sounds hot as fuck.”

Chris released an anxious breath.

You took his head in your hands.

“Easy now. Ask what you want to ask.” Chris started to speak. You put your finger over his mouth.  

“When you want to ask it.” You looked into his eyes again. “I won’t break your heart.”

Chris smiled at you and said, “I know.” He kissed you. 

And when you pulled away, breathless, he told you, “You’re the One.”

----------- Read Part Two: It Takes Two

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