#sorry for not making posts of these two. I cut contact with the person who l usually used as a base for pony like 6 months ago.

[moron-hassaikai-and-more]

Pony, learning Japanese: watashino shiroi boushi doko desu ka?

Duolingo: *wrong*

Pony: oh get fucked!

Ibara: oh yeah there’s a wa.

Pony: there’s- there’s a Weh! *waluigi impression*

Ibara and pony: *hysterical laughter*

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 3— Fool.

a/n: welcome back to the Be My Baby series! Sorry y'all, I left with some with friends and it went on waaaaay longer than I thought it would lol. I'm gonna break this chapter up into 2 parts so I can get it posted tonight. So an extra chapter will be added!! Chapter 4 will just be the part 2 of this one, and after that it'll be back on schedule. Oh and don't worry— chapter 4 will be out tomorrow btw!! that's where the big boy angst comes on. so y'all are safe until then. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this again, lol. I will later & edit any details that need touching up. Again sorry this is late, but I hope getting part two and the Keira fic tomorrow will make up for it haha.)

content: sick!Reader, caretaker!Leah, straight up no smut (CRAZY I KNOOOOOW), mostly fluff, and some angst.

warnings: talks of not hydrating & eating properly, the flu, A&E/ER, confusion caused by sickness

synopsis: You wake up sick and you call the only person you can think of for help.

word count: 3.0k

Series Masterlist: here.

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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The sound of your alarm doesn’t jolt you awake this morning. You’re already lying wide awake before it rolls around this time. You’d woken up early and your mind drifted to Leah, your whole situation together, barca, and the inevitable moment when they all come crashing together like a high speed train accident. Is it severely toxic and self destructive? Oh for sure…but who’s gonna stop you?

You stretch out your limbs as you set up in bed, turning off your alarm as you settle back into your own skin. There’s a rolling storm of anxiety filling your gut, and as your feet touch the ground it flies up to your throat. You run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet in time, emptying out your stomach contents. Which at the moment is just your bile. The sweating must’ve started when you were in bed; because you quickly notice the dampness of your shirt from the temperature drop in the bathroom. The cold tiles seep through Leah’s sweats and chill your body down. You shiver after a few minutes, staying seated on the floor as you take a moment to catch your breath.

You make quick work of going to grab your phone and sending your boss a quick message. As soon as it's sent you make your way to the shower. It's only when you bend down to take your pants off that you realize how sick you truly are. Your vision goes blurry and your head starts floating in and out of dizziness. You slowly lower your body, your hands making contact with the floor as you set yourself down. It's then that the headache starts— like your brain is pounding against your forehead on repeat. It's sharp and never ending, leaving you to crumble down into tears.

You don't have a car, and even if you did— you are in no state to operate a vehicle right now, and you definitely don't feel confident enough to order a taxi like this. So you are left with one option. One you know you're gonna regret when you're not sick and delusional, but it's the one thing your broken mind can think of…You call Leah. You crawl across the tiled floor and get your phone off the counter, dialing her number as you pray she picks up. And of course she does, because by the third ring her voice is greeting you through the speakers. "I knew you couldn't resist me, darling. I've just been wait—"

"Le…" you cut her off with a sob of her nickname. Your head is painfully throbbing now, and your mouth is so dry your throat is scratchy. She can tell just from the small amount of your voice she hears.

"y/n, hey— what's wrong? I'm on my way, alright? I'll be there soon, just stay on the phone with me," Leah's moving before the first word even leaves her mouth. She's leaving her breakfast on the table as she slips mismatching shoes on her feet. Running out of her flat with nothing but her keys and her phone in her hands.

"Something's wrong, Le. I'm sick and I-I..I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call," your voice breaks at the end. It's like a knife plunging into Leah's heart as she hears it; the absolute brokenness of your words. She knows there's a deeper meaning behind your them, but she won't push it. Leah knows any of the girls would come to help you in a heartbeat, so what's got you believing otherwise? Or maybe the better question is, who has you believing otherwise? She'll investigate that later.

"Hey, hey, calm down. You're alright, love. Take a deep breath for me, okay? I'll be there before you know it, and we'll get you to the doctor," Leah's voice would normally calm you down, but your brain is still running a million miles per minute…and it's only making you feel worse. It's like you can't focus on a singular thought, and the confusion only fuels your distress. Leah presses down on the gas pedal when she doesn't get a response from you. She can only hear your cries filling up the empty space of her car. She gets to your building in record time, and only then does she realize she didn't bring her wallet.

"God dammit," she chastises herself under her breath, trying to not let you hear her frustration as she searches for a on-street parking spot. She just had to forget you live in a fancy ass building with paid parking, today of all days. "I'm parking now, love. I'll be up in a few minutes." Thankfully she gets one across the street, rummaging through her center console for some change coins. She puts way more than needed in the parking meter, but that's not her main priority right now. "I need you tell me if the door's unlocked, okay? I know you don't feel well, but can you unlock it if it is?"

You close your eyes as you take a deep breath, gathering all your mental strength to answer her. "N-No. There's a key under t-the welcome mat though…I don't think I can walk by myself. I-I'm so sorry, Leah," you can't stop the embarrassment from filling your body. You hate having to ask people for help— especially when you need it the most. It makes you feel weak, helpless, and like a burden. It's a deep seated insecurity you can't seem to shake, but it's not like you've really ever tried to correct it. We all know Leah's stubborn, but you? You can be even worse than her. It's not like you mean to be, but you're just…broken. In more ways than even you would like to admit.

Leah sees right through it though— she always has. She is the one person in your life that sees you for who you are. Not the persona you put up for the rest of the world. You two may of only spent a short time together that year ago, but oh what an impact it made. Spending every waking second with a person for weeks on end does something to a person. You either ending up hating each other, falling in love, or whatever the fuck you two got going on.

"You don't need to be sorry, y/n. You definitely need a better hiding spot for your spare though, that's just bloody awful! You're asking for a break in!" Leah feels herself get a little frustrated as she retrieves your key. Her voice picking up into a scolding tone as she jiggles with your doorknob. You whimper out as you move the phone from your ear, the slight rise in her voice making your head hurt more. "Too loud," you say as she walks into your home. She makes sure to shut the door lightly, before smacking herself in the forehead for raising her voice with you. "I'm sorry, love. I just worry about you. Now which room are you in?"

"My bathroom," your voice sounds so small now. Like a child getting in trouble.

"I'm on my way to you now, okay?" Leah says as she climbs the stairs. Her eyes flit over your walls and she notices the lack of pictures. You have bare hallways and they look so, so lonely. She walks into your bedroom and she sees the void of no decor or really any of your things at all. It makes her sad, but mostly it leaves her wanting to ask more questions. Questions she knows she can't ask right now, but will get the answers to someway.

Nothing could have prepared Leah for what she sees behind the wooden door of your bathroom. You're clad in a mist of sweat, all the color drained from your face, and you're shaking like a leaf. It isn't until she's running up to you and falling to her knees that she sees the extent of your state. Your pants are still sitting halfway down your thighs, and Leah quickly moves to redress you. She makes sure not to look at you inappropriately, only doing what's needed to get you comfortable and less exposed. She knows how vulnerable you are right now, and she's doing everything she can to make sure you're okay. She sheds her Arsenal hoodie off, sliding it over your head as she encourages you to push your arms through.

“Hey love, let’s get you stood up– that’s it.” She helps you get to your feet, letting you lean all your body weight onto her. Leah guides you back towards your bed, sitting you on the edge as she goes to grab a pair of your shoes. It doesn't take her long before she's rejoining you and sliding some slip-ons over your feet. she pats your legs when she's down, looking up to see your disheveled appearance. "You ready to go?"

"Mhm," you nod your head along. Talking is only making your headache worse, so you've opted for noises instead.

With that, Leah is helping you back up. But before you can rest your weight back onto her side, she's picking you up bridal style. Your arms instinctively go to wrap around her neck, burying your face in the warmth of her embrace. You don't have the energy to argue with her, and honestly it's a relief to not have to walk right now. She carries you like you weigh nothing, shutting and locking your door like she isn't holding an entire human being. If you didn't feel like death you'd be obsessing over how hot she is, but right now you're just thankful.

You must've fallen asleep, because the next thing you know you're waking up in a A&E bed. You blink a few times to adjust to the lights above you, small groans slipping out as you try to stretch the cramped feeling out of your limbs. Then you hear her softly speaking on the phone across the room, and you go back to lying still. You close your eyes as you focus on trying to hear her conversation. "I know I should've called first, but you didn't see her. She couldn't even stand on her own, and she fell asleep in my arms before we even made it to her building elevator! She's in bad shape, and I'm not just gonna leave her here all alone in a country she doesn't fucking know. I'm the Captain and it's my responsibility to look after everyone— I don't fucking care that she's not a player! She's on our team, our crew, and she deserves our support. Call me back when you get your head out of your ass," and with that she hangs up.

You try and force yourself to just back to sleep and forget everything you've heard, but of course that's not how things work out. Your stomach starts turning again, complicating feelings swirling around with the uneasiness. The tears come falling down your cheeks before your eyes even open, your chest starting to tighten up as the sobs claw at your lungs to get out. It feels like you can't breathe, and honestly maybe you aren't. Not as you see flashbacks of Barca passing through your memory, a wave of dread blanketing over your body.

"What hurts, love? Do I need to get the nurse?" Leah's by your side the second she notices, a hand out grasping your forearm. Her fingers dance little patterns into your skin, and it actually starts to ground you. "Come on, take deep breaths with me again, okay?"

You nod your head, and then she's holding both your hands. You follow her lead as she sucks in a slow breath and holds it, before exhaling just as slow. She repeats the process with you until you're calmed all the way down. It doesn't take too long, but honestly Leah isn't going to leave you anytime soon anyway. "Nothing hurts," you say it so softly she barely hears it. Your eyes stay locked down onto the bed sheets below you, never making any eye contact with her.

"Then why were you crying, y/n?"

"Because I heard you on the phone…and I don't know. I guess I freaked out, and went spiraling into a self hate hole for a second. I'm okay, really."

"oh bloody hell! I'm so sorry you heard that, darling. I should've went into the hall or something—"

"It's okay, Le. I'm just sensitive, and really really delulu from whatever sickness I currently have…plus it was nice to hear you stick up for me, Captain."

"The mystery sickness is indeed just a bad case of the flu…but uhm, the doctor said it was made worse from you being dehydrated and probably not eating enough from the looks of your blood work. I'm not gonna judge you or yell at you. But I am taking you home with me when they discharge you. I'm your official caregiver until you're well enough to take after yourself again," Leah doesn't let go of your hand as she says it. She tries to connect your gazes, but you don't allow it. Actively avoiding her eyes as you feel them burrowing holes into your skull.

You wish you could argue with her and tell her she's wrong…but you can't. You've been skipping out on meals ever since you moved here. It's not been on purpose, you just haven't been able to eat. It's like your body hates the idea of eating, always growing nauseous after every few bites. So you've been drinking some meal replacements…not enough apparently. "Okay."

"…Okay? Really? That was a whole lot easier than I thought it would be," Leah is staring at you with her biggest look of, 'be so for real, bitch' written across her face. But you just shrug as you sink back into the uncomfortable mattress underneath you. You're so mentally and physically wore out right now, there's just no fight left inside you. Right as you're about to re-close your eyes, the doctor finally comes back in. After getting the run down from him, he lets you know that you can be discharged and to pick up your antibiotics before going home. Leah helps you redress again, and this time it has you giggling at the way she makes her eyes go anywhere but at your naked body.

"Hold on…how'd you get the doctor to tell you what was wrong with me before I even woke up? Aren't there some rules against that?"

"…I might have told everyone that you're my fiancé," Leah smiles at you nervously.

"Fuck you, Williamson! Take yourself on that date Thursday!"

"Oh, so you're finally agreeing that it's a date?" Leah smirks at you, only hearing the parts of what she wants to hear.

"Well, I guess we'll never know, now will we?"

She rolls her eyes at you for that, holding her hand out for you to take. And you do, still leaning against her some to walk. She helps you to the car, and once you're both secure she's driving you to your new home for the next few days…or weeks. God you hope only days. It feels weird to be back inside a house with another person, and it's extra fucking weird that it's Leah. You know this stay is when you have to put down some boundaries with her. To stop whatever there is between the two of you. It makes the previous pit in your stomach increase by double, because deep down you know you care about her...you're just lying to yourself about it. You can push every feeling down your throat, but they will all come spilling out at some point. That's what you've learned to be true over the years, but will you accept that as truth? Hell no! At least not anytime soon. Your worst problem is that you always get in your own way.

When she finally gets you inside, Leah starts cooking and letting her mind wonder to think of you. More importantly to the phone call you overheard in the A&E. She'd been talking with her manager, and completely snapped on him. He'd said something about how Leah 'follows you around like a lost puppy' and well…. it hurt her fucking feelings. Of course she isn't doing all of this just because she's one sided sickly in love with you…right? Sure she thinks of you literally every second of the day, and she's been day dreaming of you for the past year, but that's all totally normal...RIGHT?

Leah doesn't get to spiral into her romanic crisis for too long, because before she knows it the timers going off. She drains the gnocchi before putting it in a bowel for you, making her way back to the living room where she left you. She laughs at the sight that greets her— you snuggled up asleep in her Arsenal hoodie she'd given you when she first saw you. Leah just sets the gnocchi aside on the coffee table, opting to cuddle you instead of waking you up. She pulls you onto her body, your face resting on her chest as she tries to adjusts you without waking you up.

She finds herself running her fingers through your hair, and before long they're running softy across the features of your face. Leah lets a deep sigh come out of her chest. She truly feels like a fucking fool. Leah doesn't chase girls— they chase her. So for the first time in this game, she is the one crying. She's clinging onto any crumb of attention you'll give her, and she'll keep doing it for as long as it takes. Leah has you sleeping against her chest once again, and it's nothing like she's day dreamed of. You two aren't confessing your feelings, running around town making memories, or god forbid actually dating…but she'll keep feeling like a fool and waiting on you. She'll keep searching for your love until she finds it, because she knows she's felt flashes of it. She knows that carefree, wild, truly happy girl from Ibiza is still inside of you somewhere. Leah doesn't know what took that extra bright sparkle out of your eyes, but she is determined to see it light up your face back up.

[bezierballad]

The whole truth (and an apology)

Hey guys. It's me again.

Hoo boy, where do I even begin?

So, as you guys have noticed, the blog about Kurophiliac and puppyfan9000, I'd taken down.

And I'm going to cut to the chase.

Turns out the screenshots really were faked.

Let's start at the beginning, where we got that anonymous confession in the server I'd mentioned.

Basically someone (we'll get to them in a bit) confessed about the whole "proshipper server lusting after a real minor. They had screenshots and they wanted someone to make a callout because they were too scared to do so themselves.

Wanting to make myself useful, I immediately volunteered.

And so the person (named Zex) sent the screenshots.

And once I'd received those screenshots, I made that post asking people to report both Kurophiliac and puppyfan9000. I even included a cybertip report link.

That was a stupid thing for me to do. That was a very irresponsible and dangerous thing for me to do. And that is putting it mildly.

I didn’t think about questioning the information provided, I didn’t ask Zex why they didn’t want to post the callout themselves, I didn’t even think about contacting Kurophiliac and puppyfan9000 who were allegedly involved in this "incident."

I went straight to extreme measures to take action against two people I barely knew myself without investigating further.

I took things at face value. I truly wish I hadn't.

Because, as I've said at the beginning, the screenshots really were, in fact, faked.

See, Zex had some past beef with Plato (aka Kurophiliac) and made this whole story about them being a pedo in order to frame them and ruin their reputation.

When I'd made that post, they linked it and outright encouraged harassment of these two individuals. (Which is, honestly a really dick thing to do.)

And the thing about them "infiltrating a proshipper server?" They were always in that server. They didn't even leave like they actually claimed to.

Their introduction post in the proshipper server.

So, Zex if you're reading this right now... well, I'm speechless. I mean, going as far as to deliberately frame someone else for something so serious? It doesn't even matter whether the person you're framing is a proshipper or not, if you're framing someone as a pedophile when they've committed no such atrocity? That's sickening no matter what your excuse is.

As for Kurophiliac and puppyfan9000, if you two are reading this right now, well, I'm truly sorry.

I'm sorry I jumped straight to conclusions based off someone else's words, without questioning that person's intentions.

I'm sorry I immediately assumed the worst of you guys without being the bigger person and handling this like a rational person would.

I'm sorry I made you panic and put you two at risk of major reputation damage and legal trouble.

I'm sorry I resorted to the absolute worst possible way of "solving" the problem.

My intentions mean nothing because I ended up causing you both harm. Just because I was lied to doesn't mean I'm completely blameless in this. I should've investigated the situation before taking action. I should've seen those rather obvious red flags in those edited screenshots as well as in Zex's behavior. I shouldn't have taken the word of some random fucker on the internet.

Whether or not you guys forgive me for this is completely up to you. I understand either way. We can go our own ways and never speak to each other again if you prefer. Either way, I hope you two are doing alright, after everything.

And that goes for the rest of you guys. Have a good day/night.

Update: kurophiliac created a post elaborating on the situation with Zex.

[rookiesbookies]

Different relationships that the CoD boys are in and will probably be in for most fics I write bc they give these vibes?

Featuring: Price, Soap, Ghost, Konig, Keegan, Gaz (in that order under the cut)

Price:

Wife. You both met on a dating app when the Captain was feeling lonely. Poor man got so anamored what was supposed to be one date and a fuck turned into one date, two days, four dates then fucking, then well yk. He kept you under deep protection, the boys never really learned about you but Price sends you photos of them all the time, referring to them jokingly as his sons. You’ll meet them eventually, but only when Price knows Graves and Sheppard aren’t a problem anymore.

Soap :

Fiance. After a couple years and a lot of confidence talks by Gaz, he built up the courage. He knew you’d say yes, everyone knew. Everyone knew the night you came to the bar to pick Soap up when he was blackout drunk and didnt kill him when he vomited all over your car’s dash. Ghost knew of you first to snatch up Soap’s phone to call. He was gruff and to the point about it but he felt sorry seeing Johnny cry over missing you but not wanting to leave the team during a celebration for another successful mission. Price made you promise him he’d be allowed to walk Soap down the aisle since it was, as he said, “clear who wears the pants in this relationship.”

(Fic about this posted and in my masterlist with in pinned on my account)

Ghost:

Situationship. He has too many attachment issues to be super stable and he knows it, especially with his line of work. You dont here from him for months at a time after goodbye dates, but when he comes back he’s basically living out of your apartment because it just feels better than living on base. He crashes on the couch because he doesnt want to join you in bed to make you uncomfortable or steal your bed by accident. He kicks and flops in his sleep like a fish.

Konig:

Wife. He couldn’t have put the ring on your hand faster out of fear of makimg you uncomfortable. After the second date he knew he wanted to marry you. But he waited a year to ask, it was painful for him. He asked the two of you elope, promised a ‘real’ wedding with a big white dress and anything you could ask for when the world was safer or his job slowed down. He has large enemies so he mostly keeps you as on the downlow as he can. Everyone knows not to mess with the Colonel's Wife.

Keegan:

Fiance. He promised you when you both graduated he’d marry you, lost contact not long after, reconnected a bit later, and he put a ring on you- promising he wouldn't lose you again. You’ve been engaged for a couple years but you want to be financially stable enough to do the dream wedding you both have planned on a Pinterest mood board. You’ve been his best friend since forever and met in a math class when he didn’t quite understand algebra. He says, “im not a math person,” quite often to this day.

Gaz:

Girlfriend. You met at a bar during his training way back while a friend was working as a bartender, they let you bust his ‘fake’ ID just to talk to him. He comes to see you every time he can now, cozying up in your bed and telling you the happy and fun moments he has with the boys on missions. You play Its Raining Men and he jokingly acts like he’s having flashbacks as a running gag.

[grimesgirll]

heyy could you write Negan smut, with them both fighting for dominance while they fuck, taunting each other; Maybe because they known each other before the apocalypse so she isn’t as intimidated by Negan like the rest.

you have to be the hottest thing he’s seen in quite sometime.

negan, simon, and dwight had heard the gunshots from your shotgun and stumbled upon you; all alone, fending off a few dozen walkers.

simon had insisted that they leave and not risk their safety for “some broad”, and negan was on board until he realized that wasn’t just any broad - it was you.

the three cut through the horde of walkers at negan's insistence. braving bloated corpses and trudging over the trampled isn't a simple feat - even with guns. minutes pass until you're finally face to face. half dazed, you did a double take once your eyes suddenly met the disgraced gym teacher's.

then you hit the ground.

when you woke up, mr. smith was there. you were shocked to see him and even more surprised to learn that he was the leader of an up and coming survival group.

“what about your wife?” you’d asked. “mrs. smith is really cool.”

made slightly dramatic by age, the pained twist of the former faculty's face has you regretting your question.

mrs. smith was really cool.

mr. smith had once been too. kind as well. negan is looks cool, and you can't deny that there's a cult of personality that can't be beat with him. not kind though.

no, you'd learned your first week that the gym teacher who had once teased you about college partying on the playground was now a certified psychopath. as a teaching assistant and faculty shadow at the school, you'd befriended negan easily. the two of you pulled off witty banter as you dropped the kids off for gym, even accepting invitations to join the day's activity.

mr. smith was no more and negan's now burning faces off. you'd seen that. just like you'd seen the floggings, the beatings, the spankings, and even the wall. waking up one day to see the nurse you'd grown fond of outside wandering as a walker was enough for you to tweak.

“what did she do?”

negan looks up from a map of northern virginia to grin at you. “hey, doll! what’s goin’ on?” he kicks his feet up on the desk. “don’t see much of you around here.”

“yeah, because i can barely get by your goons.”

he shrugs. “seems like you got up here just fine.”

you’d sideskirted fat joey when he left his post to top off his dr. pepper. it was easy enough to walk your way to negan’s office to confront him.

“why is the woman who trained me walking around the front yard as a zombie?” you question, not breaking eye contact with the smirking leader. “what could she have done to deserve that?” you let out an exasperated breath, reigning it in with another deep umhals before asking, “don’t you think that’s fucking extreme?”

if negan softens, you really can’t tell. all that comes from the man is a laugh. “you mean the nurse who was planning on robbin’ us all blind and hightailing it with nearly all of our narcotics?”

you don’t even have the care to gawk at him. “could she not have been rehabilitated?”

he scoffs at you. “once an addict, always an addict.”

a sudden wave of dread comes over you, and for a moment you think it may be your lunch coming back up but one look at your former fellow faculty member and you know it’s purely disgust.

“she was my friend!”

“you’ll make more!”

“she was my only friend here,” the words croak out of your mouth.

negan just chews on his lip and shrugs. “sorry, honey, you’ll just have to start bein’ friendlier then.” a smirk spreads across his leather-like, aged face. “might have to drop the whole resting bitch face.”

you’re fuming. the column of rage growing from your belly pangs with no place to go. “for you freaks?”

your outburst has fat joey huffing and puffing his way through the threshold of the door.

“everything, okay, boss?” the grunt looks from your red face to his relaxed leader. “sorry bout’ her. she shouldn’t be up here.”

negan waves a hand. “don’t worry about it, joey. i can handle her.”

joey nods when a “handle me?” is flying from your mouth and negan just shoots him a cheeky grin.

“let me walk you back down there, doll.” negan insists.

when he rises from his desk, you realize how he towers over you, something you’d never clocked despite how often you two had been in close quarters back at school. you’re glaring up to meet his dark eyes - the ones that glint in the light like he hadn’t subjected a young woman to the most gruesome death - not including her life after death.

“this way, you,” negan is shepherding you with a hand on your back and all you can do is grumble as you pass his lazy goon.

once the two of you are in the hallway, you slap his hand off of him. “don’t touch me,” you sneer.

he chuckles. “whatever you wish, princess, just stop interrupting me from my important shit with your emotional shit, ‘kay?”

you shake your head. “what would mrs. smith think of all this? surely you don’t think you’re in the right. your wife would’ve hated this.”

negan gestures to the empty, desolate stairwell the two of you are descending. “she look like she’s here?”

“doesn’t matter. what happened to your morals?” you spit, stopping in your tracks to turn and face the taller man, standing on a higher step so that you’re both at eye level. “you were a school teacher.”

“yeah, and you would’ve been dead if we hadn’t brought you in.”

“so i should be happy with the freak show you’re putting on here?”

the expressive leader throws his arms out to motion to the compound. “look around, it’s bread and circuses!” he says simply. “you work, you get a bed, and a safe place to live.” a devious expression overtakes his countenance. “and a show!”

“i hate it here.” you declare nastily.

he snorts. “you hate not being in control, and all the safe little assurances we had before. things are different now.”

“no,” you counter, face coming closer to his. “you’re different now.”

“gotta be to survive nowadays, darlin’, now hurry it up. you need to get back to stitchin’ up my men so they can go out and bring you back ravioli, morphine, soap, toilet paper, all that shit you’re bitchin’ about having.”

“you’re a psycho,” you huff at him as he ushers you down the stairs, another level, and the familiar way towards the infirmary.

“you’re just not adjusted yet. just stick to changing bedpans and we won’t have a problem,” negan instructs with a hand on your back again.

you brush him off once you two have entered the sterile, white infirmary where doctor carson is talking quietly with one of negan’s goons.

“what’s goin’ on here, doc?” negan questions, startling the two.

negan’s man is pale - and sweating buckets. the doctor stands from his bedside to face negan.

“hello, negan, we were just finishing up.”

“finishing up what?”

the pit in your stomach grows when you notice the sickly man on the bed scurrying to fold the fabric of his shirt back over his stomach. the doctor has a pokerface but you didn’t need them to answer to know what was going on.

“what’s goin’ on, dan? feelin’ alright?” negan doesn’t give the doctor a chance to answer before he’s next to his commissioned scavenger, towering over him now.

dan nods. “feelin’ fine. just scraped up and tired as hell after gettin’ back from carolina.”

“i bet!” that loud voice booms throughout the room. “mighty long trip that was. thanks again, man.” the clap to dan’s back from his leader almost has him buckling. “but you don’t look so good, bud. got something to tell me?”

“negan-,” the doctor starts but he’s quickly silenced by a simple raise of the leader’s hand.

“nope, doc. i wanna hear it from dan here.”

the man’s nervous eyes flicker from doctor carson and to you. you want to crumple where you stand. though his eyes are pleading, there’s nothing you can do. only manage your growing disgust as you watch negan reach for his sidearm.

then negan does something that surprises you, he leans down to embrace the man in a hug.

“thank you, it was just a long trip.” dan’s bumbling, but negan shushes him.

“don’t worry bout’ it, dan.”

that’s when the bullet departs the chamber and implants itself in dan’s brain.

the man who’d just been alive slumps down and falls onto the newly bloodied bedsheets. the white wall behind him is sprayed with brains and chrome. the salt and pepper haired leader stands from the bed and yawns, stretching as if he wasn’t leaving a mess of blood and trauma for you and the doctor to clean up and process.

“back to work. keep an eye on her, doc.”

“negan, you sick fuck.”

this time, negan’s holding his council and heatedly harping on gregory.

the man lets out an exasperated breath. “who the fuck wasn’t watching the door?”

his legion of doom is bewildered to see the sullen nurse standing in the doorway. dwight’s apathetic as always, but is the first to offer to escort you out while simon’s telling gregory to “shut the fuck up” and laura’s looking at you as if no one could be more annoying as to drag this meeting on.

“joey!”

one shout and you hear heavy footsteps thudding down the hall. breathing raggedly, the guard wraps himself around the doorway and drops his sandwich at the sight of you.

“so sorry, boss. she really sneaks in!”

the older man just shakes his head. “don’t let it happen again or gregory gets it.”

laughter erupts from the room. everyone at the table is dropping their dauntless demeanor as if on cue. the only one not laughing is gregory of course.

“negan, listen-,”

“ah!” negan interrupts him, straining against his leather jacket when he turns his body towards him. “you shut it! i hate having my shit interrupted, and i hate having supply drops interrupted far more than meetings.” he directs his attention from the man from hilltop back to you. “why don’t you just take a seat, honey? we’ll be done soon.”

you shake your head. “i’m not trying to stay here any longer than i have to. i need this sorted out now.”

“if you wanna talk, doll, you’ll have to wait your turn. i’m talking to gregory right now.”

“i don’t even want to talk to you.”

he exhales flippantly. “then why are you here? interrupting my important meeting.”

“i came for my shotgun.”

negan chuckles, crossing his arms. “you think you’re gettin’ that thing back? after the mood you’ve been stirring up here?”

you do your best to ignore the way he’s laughing and dismissing you or how he’s manspreading all over the chair he’s parked in.

“i need my stuff now. i’m leaving tonight.”

it’s like the air’s been sucked out of the room. you can see negan’s jaw tighten in real time, and the room stiffens. waiting for a reaction is half the angst but you don’t have time for it. don’t even want to defend your decision, especially in front of everyone here.

“out!”

chair legs scrape against the ground as some of negan’s senior partners in psychopathy begin to egress.

gregory is just looking flabbergasted. “but we had a meeting?”

“everyone, out. now!”

all it takes is a “negan doesn’t like to repeat himself” and dwight is shuffling gregory out of the room, simon taking up the rear.

“see you soon, hun’,” he taunts to you.

you don’t have enough time to process his words because he’s shutting the door behind you and probably mentally rescheduling this meeting. you could care less.

“enough, negan smith.” he blinks at the full name callout. “i want my stuff and i’ll be out of your hair. you won’t have to worry about me.”

negan’s off his feet again and sitting on top of the table now. he points to the chair next to the head. “sit.”

“i don’t want to sit.” you insist. “i already told you, i don’t want to talk, i want to go.”

“yeah, well we’re gonna talk first, so sit your ass down.”

you don’t want to spend anymore time in this nutjob factory than you have to but you want your shotgun back. so you walk across the room and you stand at the chair.

“what do you have to say to me?” you inquire.

“god, look at you!”

you roll your eyes.

“a few weeks after getting your life saved, getting your needs taken care of and you’re ready to go back to that?”

“i don’t want to be at your constant mercy.” you say plainly. “not that you can really call it mercy.”

with every retort from him being a laugh, your patience is growing thin. he snickers upon seeing your frown. “so, you want to take your chances out there instead of taking a little time to let me help figure out your problem?”

you throw up your hands. “figure out my problem? i came to you to help figure out my problem and you said to just deal with it. to ‘adjust’. well, i can’t. i can’t live like this. it’s not humane.”

“yeah, and it’s humane out there?”

“better than bitching in here.”

“well, i think i can help with that. won’t be getting your shotgun back.”

“oh, so you can’t help at all?” you snap.

he whistles. “never said that.” his eyes drop from your gaze down your torso to your thighs. he pats the table next to him. “come sit on the table.”

“no. i want to go. now.”

“alright then.”

“negan!”

you exclaim when he scootches off the table to scoop you up by your legs and middle and plop you down.

“let doctor negan see if he can help.”

“what are you-,”

“ah! look at that.”

“ah!”

the sudden sensation of a finger against your denim covered cunt has your face flushing and red. “been touched there in a while, honey?”

“just give me my shotgun,” you breathe, desperately trying with your eye contact to communicate that things aren’t going the way you expected.

“let me give you some reprieve, clear your head, and then we can see if you still want your shotgun.”

you shake your head as he starts pulling down your pants. “you think your wife would be okay with this?”

“she here?”

you curse yourself for giving him such an easy answer. you curse yourself for not doing anything other than pouting and wiggling once he’s at your waistband. you curse the little wet spot soaked though your underwear even more.

“god, i knew confrontation would get you wet.”

“so you planned this?”

the older man shakes his head, taking another moment to fully lock eyes with you, even as he towers over you on the table. “no, i’m thinking that we both walked into this.”

maybe you shouldn’t have walked in, you ponder as negan walks your undies down your thighs with his fingers and walks them right back to your dripping center. the hair you have down there is already slick, a damp curtain pried open by negan’s thick fingers.

“shit,” you rasp when a finger braves the pool of anticipation that’s only growing and delves further against your inner walls.

“want me stop there?” the fucker’s finger stills inside of you and the other dancing just above your clit comes to a halt.

you don’t respond, just lock eyes with negan and try to catch your breath. “that’s not fair,” you point out in a voice just above a whisper. “can’t stop now.”

“or can i?”

you shake your head. “don’t.”

maybe clearing the tension that’s been building like a twentieth century skyscraper inside of you will sort you out. or you could just say fuck it. the world’s ended anyways.

negan surely fucks a finger stationed inside of you back and forth. twisting and testing the waters before adding another. the extra finger curls inside you deliciously while he utilizes another to play around your clit.

the attention he’s paying to your once undisturbed nether regions is enough to have you creaking and moaning like an old door hinge and hinging forward into negan. he’s quick to let you fall forward into his arms. the sudden acceptance is all he needs to speed up.

“i know that feels good, honey.”

“mhmm,” you murmur into his shoulder.

there’s a spot inside of you that he’s massaging just right and another on your exterior; an x doesn’t need to mark the spot for him to rile up your clit. slow, lazy circles have you grinding against him on the table. how can you bemoan him when he’s about to pull the perfect release from you?

you know that because your breath is picking up again and you’re blubbering into his sturdy shoulder. those motions are telltale. mrs. smith’s memory hasn’t kept this man celibate.

the widower has his hand on your back again and the hand beneath you has its own task. the task at hand is executed with more skill than any boy you’d ever fooled around with in college or anyone who came after - not that there were many given how things had gone. you’d like to think that if shit hadn’t hit the fan, you would’ve settled down with someone like mr. smith but younger. this would have to do.

“clenchin’ so tight just around my fingers, baby. you always had the hots for me?”

you shake your head no truthfully. “this is the hots?”

“you feel hot down there baby, and my are you hot.” he lands the compliment with a kiss. you lean in, letting his tongue slip into your mouth because you’re too occupied with the build up brewing inside of you.

one glance down between you two and you see his fingers pumping. your heart rate jumps when you see the addition of another and now you’re being stretched out on his fingers on this table.

“god, you’re gorgeous. what a sweet little thing to have fallen into my lap.”

you curl further into his lap, legs now around him and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you. all he has to do is curl his fingers and you’re yowling. “mhm, they’re deep.” you say, brain just observing.

“too deep?”

“no.”

thus, they plunge further. until the extra finger on the outside is stirring up more than your slick and heat courses through you. you shudder against negan but that doesn’t stop his routine. the shape of his fingers change inside of you and you’re bucking against him to feel each one.

“fuck, i’m gonna come,” you don’t want to say it out loud but you do anyways.

“on my fingers?” negan sniggers. “you poor thing. c’mon now, i know it must’ve been a while.” he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit. “just let go, honey, it’ll help.”

and it does.

letting your lizard brain take the lead is all you need for your mind to go blank. if even for a second, it releases the anxiety and the anger that’d consumed you. you pulse and clamp down around his digits until suddenly he’s not moving at all but you’re rotating your hips against him.

riding out such a feeling, you blink the tears out of your eyes and do a double take once you notice negan removing his fingers and starting on his belt.

“what’re you doing?” you question, pussy still pulsing with a mind of its own.

“if you thought that helped you relax, this will put you to sleep. no more sleeping pills for you, darlin’.”

“how did you know about that?”

“doctor carson doesn’t keep secrets from me. he didn’t need to tell me you weren’t adjusting well either.” negan states matter-of-factly, then dropping his blue plaid boxers.

you’re not sure how you’re going to adjust to the sight you’re met with. the cock in front of you is larger than any you’ve ever seen before. if negan’s fingers had you losing it, this thing will ruin you.

“i don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you admit when his hands land on your hips.

the distance between your needy bare entrance and his thick dick is only inches now. you shudder at the longing that’s whipping you and your thoughts around. you moan when he slides his hard, veiny cock against your entrance, slapping it against you once for good measure.

“nope, you’re tougher than you think.”

you meet his eyes again as if to question him. sure, he feels good against you but this is next level. better than fiction but what would happen after you both got your orgasms out of the way?

there’s no time for you to speculate because his lips are on yours again and you feel him lining himself up against you. “you want me to fuck all those fears out of your head, honey? you wanna feel good?”

how can you say no to that?

one nod of your head and his tip is teasing you. it takes you telling him, “please, put it in. i want it,” and then he’s plunging inside.

your face scrunches as a little burn becomes prominent from his size, but he kisses the lines away from your face. your temple, your nose, your lips, your cheek, he’s kissing you, saying, “good girl. you’re doing fantastic.”

you just eat up the praise and look down to see your pussy devouring him whole. the first two or three inches were a struggle just from lack of use but your lack of pleasure - the near sexual deprivation you’d experienced since shit hit the fan - overcomes it, and is pleasantly fulfilled.

in and out of you, negan works his hips and you can’t be happier. could a man you’d branded a psycho just minutes before be so adept at addressing your pleasure?

seems like it.

“god, you fuck well for a gym teacher.”

negan won’t let the snide comment slide so he wraps up his tour of purple rain against your collarbone to simper at you. “yeah, and for a frigid bitch, this pussy is hot and ready.”

“maybe i’m one of those dumb girls who’s attracted to psychos and serial killers?” you ponder playfully and wrap your arms negan’s neck to pull him in closer.

“oh, i’m gonna fuck you dumb, honey, don’t worry.” and with a roll of his hips, you have no reason to worry he won’t live up to his words.

you whine when he suddenly rams into you. his girth juts along your tight, inner walls. you meet his gaze again and just looking at his smug face has you tightening around him.

“god, baby, did you just fuckin’ squeeze me?”

“can you adjust?”

he grunts. “can you?”

you don’t have time to ask what you could possibly have to adapt to next because negan’s turning you into your stomach onto the table, tossing his leather jacket down for you to bury your face into. his absence from between your thighs brings on another whine but one moment of motion and now you feel him flush against your back, filling you to the brink with his cock.

“yeah, bet that brain can’t even think about an escape plan with that dumb little pussy stuffed so full. you gonna’ be able to walk tomorrow, honey?” he asks you tenderly as if he’s not on the verge of taking out your cervix.

“ne-negan! sto-,”

“-stop what?” he gyrates his hips nice and slow into you, dragging on the sensitive insides of your poor, overstimulated little cunt. “stop fucking you? because the way your pussy is clampin’ down, i don’t even know how i’m backing out of here baby.”

“don’t!” you beg.

“what?” he leans down to take your chin in his hands and see the angsty, pleasure induced tear starting to roll down your cheek. “god, you even look pretty when you cry. fuckin’ face like that.”

hips are stammering and negan’s words burn straight through to your core. he moans like a motherfucker when he feels the squeeze of your clingy little core on him. haywire all of this had gone, and now your climax is taking you over the edge.

“negan, don’t stop. don’t stop. don’t be an asshole,” you’re pleading.

he’s back to spearing you on his cock, leveraging your hips and throwing his head back. “don’t think i could, baby. not with a pussy this fucking fantastic.”

the praise is what does you in for the second time. any thought of undead nurses or public floggings leaves your brain and all you’re left with is the molten hot pleasure exploding inside of you. negan’s hand drifts down to your clit to have you absolutely crushing his cock.

“god, doll, you’re fuckin’ tight. so fuckin’ hot when you come like that. gonna have me doing a fuckin’ one and done for now.”

the huskiness of his voice and the twitch of him against your walls only eggs you on. your eyes are shut tight but you he’s all you can imagine. head on top of his jacket, you breathe in his scent, musky with a hint of the same cologne he wore back at school, and you’re creaming around him.

“fuck, doll!”

and he’s shooting his cream inside of you. the warmth fills you up and you no longer have the energy to move. any gyration of your hips has halted. a few more thrusts and he’s in the same boat. he collapses atop you for just a moment before pulling out and padding towards the table against the wall laden with napkins and refreshments that were supposed to be for the meeting.

you don’t turn your head but you can hear him grabbing some paper towels off the roll and clutching some other things.

“just gonna wipe between your legs,” he instructs and you let him.

your forehead against the table and those pretty eyes squeezed shut has negan rethinking a thing or two. suddenly he’s regretting not fucking you like the sweet thing you are. you deserved better than a table - at least his soft, king sized mattress if not a cloud.

once he finishes, he pats your back and nudges you up where he’s waiting with a water bottle - already open with the cap off. you accept with no issue and gulp the mini-sized bottle down easily.

“listen, why don’t you have dinner with the girls and i tonight? i’m not gonna give you your shotgun back just yet, but might change your mind about some things.”

[turtle--soup]

Okay.

I have not seen ROTTMNT yet, but I've picked up some stuff from just floating around the fandom. Something I've learned, which is discussed in this post here, is that Rise Leo is generally considered - and considers himself the 'Face Man' of the team. (GIFs below are swiped from the linked post by @risestarkiss - I couldn't find them in tumblr's gif search function...)

Anyway. This is interesting to me because I am, for my sins, also a fan of The A-Team.

(I promise this is going somewhere! If you want to find out where I'm going with this, I'll put the rest of the post under a cut because it got a little long...)

For those of you unfamiliar with The A-Team, it's a (very silly) 80s TV series about a group of Vietnam War veterans who are on the run from the government after being convicted of a crime they didn't commit. The four of them spend their lives in hiding, making a living by using their combat skills to help people in need.

Here they are:

Left: Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith, leader of the team, brains of the outfit and most likely to have become an evil mastermind in an alternate timeline.

Right: Sergeant B.A. Baracus. Nicknamed 'Bad Attitude' due to his lack of patience for bullshit, B.A. is the resident tough guy but also an absolute teddy bear of a man, and is always ready to help people, especially children and the elderly.

Left: Captain H.M. 'Howling Mad' Murdock is the team's pilot and can fly just about anything. As his nickname suggests, he's considered a bit eccentric and is a silly kind of guy. (He's also a permanent resident of a psychiatric hospital but let's not get into that right now.)

Right: Lieutenant Templeton Peck. His role in the team is to provide them with whatever they need, whether that be vehicles, weapons, tools or access to places. He usually achieves this using his charm and wit, gaining him the nickname 'Face Man.'

Okay, so bearing these descriptions in mind, look at Leo's dialogue in this GIF:

I'm assuming that Donnie is the brainy guy, Raph is the smashy guy, and Mikey is the 'eats peanut butter with his fingers guy'. And Leo is the Face Man. That's his role.

But these descriptions fit the members of The A-Team too. Hannibal is the brainy guy, B.A. is the smashy guy, Murdock is the guy who absolutely eats peanut butter with his fingers (while maintaining unbroken eye contact throughout). And then there's Face.

How is this in any way relevant?

Well.

It just so happens that someone else is a fan of The A-Team...

Of course the Mirage turtles watched The A-Team! It was a popular show in the mid-80s, and you have to admit - they do have a lot in common, being four guys fighting injustice from the shadows and all... The A-Team even have a friend on the outside who helps them out - Amy Allen.

She's a reporter. Like someone else we know...

But which of the Mirage turtles in the image above is suggesting they should watch The A-Team?

According to this bio card from 1990 that coincides with the 1987 series...

... it might be Leo!

Was this intentional on the part of the Rise writers? I don't know!

Is it relevant? Probably not!

Does this tentative link between these two silly 80s series make me ridiculously happy? Yes!

Was this entire post just leading up to this? Yeah... sorry...

I like to think that the link is intentional. I've heard that Rise makes reference to other iterations of TMNT, as they all do. I would just personally love it if someone on the team wanted to draw parallels between these two series on purpose!

Anyway.

I just noticed that and really needed to get it off my chest! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this longer-than-intended post right to the end! 💙💜❤🧡

[lieslab]

Nothing new

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Minho finds you on the porch when the hurt from the issues your father gave you tends to bubble up and fizz over.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.3K

Trigger warning: Daddy issues, grief, depression, anxiety, mentions of physical violence and emotional abuse.

A/N: I forgot that I wrote a daddy issue post like a week or two ago because I have the memory of a goldfish. I haven't done a Minho drabble in a while and honestly, this was one hundred percent completely self-indulgent and I cannot lie about it. I was spiraling and this was what conjured up in the middle of my grief. I'm so sorry if you can relate, we deserve better <3

_ _ _

"Why are you hanging out here alone?” Minho plopped down beside you on the back wooden porch. 

You couldn’t remember how long you had been here. Maybe it was mere minutes or maybe it was more like hours. Time seemed to blend together out here and you let it. 

The sun was starting to set. It painted the sky with roaring reds and bright oranges. Streaks of clouds were beginning to fade further and further away into the distance. Soon the sun would set and the moon would begin to climb the darkened skies. 

“I’ve been calling your name for a while. I thought you were in our bedroom, but you didn’t respond. I even thought you were showering until I found the bathroom empty. I was starting to think you had been kidnapped or something.” 

You shrugged, “I’m just here.” 

“So what are you thinking about?” 

“Noth-” 

“Bullshit. You don’t turn into a recluse unless you’re truly struggling with something. You know that I’m not going to judge you, so what are you really thinking about?” 

“Everything all at once.” 

“Anything specific?” 

“Family.” 

His face softened at the mention of your family. Life with your family has been chaotic. He knew the stories, you always told him about them. More specifically, he knew the issues that you had with your father. 

“Daddy issues again?” 

“Or perhaps my brain is the issue.” You shifted and leaned back. Your legs hung down the descending stairs, but your upper half clung to the deck. “I just…I just wish I could stop making it a big deal. I wish things didn’t affect me so much. I wish actions and words would run off me like water instead of sticking.” 

“It’s not wrong to mourn the things you missed out on. I understand that it must be hard to deal with the cards life gave you. Everyone has struggles and yours just happens to be your father.” 

“You’d think it’d stop once you grow up.” 

He paused for a moment and his eyes went out to the backyard. Off in the distance, the shared vegetable garden bloomed. Bright grown plants flourished in every direction. Two white cabbage butterflies chased each other around and around. Soon they’d land on an outer cabbage leaf and begin to munch away without a care in the world. 

“I think realizing it when you get older makes it worse. You become aware of the injustice and hurt which causes a cognitive disconnect. It makes it cut that much deeper. You don’t have to feel bad for feeling something so natural.” 

“You know what the worst part is?” You finally got out. The sting of tears began to collect in the corners of your eyes. “He’s not even a good man. We’re talking about one of the worst people out there and yet I still feel myself chasing after him.” 

“The kind of person who picks strangers over his own children. The type who spends money on stupid things instead of the youngest child’s needs. The kind of person who has no issue yelling and screaming in someone’s face. The kind that lets their anger control them and make all the decisions.” 

“But yet…I keep chasing. I keep hoping and praying. I’ve started to talk to God,” a tearful snort fell from your mouth. “I don’t even know if I believe in him, but I’ve talked to him. I keep asking for a better father, but all I hear is silence.” 

“They say you should stay in contact with your parents because they’re your parents, but what if a parent is making you so stressed and upset, your hair falls out? What if it leads to sobbing and emotional distress? What if it leads to screaming and fighting? What if trying to love my father is what kills me?” 

Minho’s heart broke apart at your words. He knew it was bad and it had been for a while, but he didn’t know it was this bad. His hand instinctively reached out for yours. The warmth of his palm connected with yours and curled around your fingers. 

“And you know what the worst part is?” 

“Hmm?” 

“If I leave him, that’s it. He won’t change and try to become a better person. He won’t think about his actions and go out of his way to change. He’ll just point the finger and belittle me. Run my name through the mud to every family member. He’ll belittle me, turn me into an outsider, pull the curtain over everyone’s eyes again. He’ll always be the good father in his eyes and I’ll just become another asshole that did him wrong. Just like the hundreds of other people that he once upon a time knew.” 

Narcissism was deadly for some. Too much of an ego and too much self-imposed-importance left people craving attention. No matter whose character they had to rip apart, they’d do it. Whether that meant belittling them to everyone they knew, screaming at them, or even assaulting them. 

Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. 

All the attention had to be swallowed by them. Like some sort of powerful sun, the rays never knew how brightly they burned. Any ounce of criticism was a pot of boiling hot water. 

The huffs and puffs. The finger in your face. The yelling and screaming as spit flew everywhere. The broadening rage that seemed to fill the room without a single sound. The angry marching from them as you tiptoed along on eggshells. Just when you let out a breath, they snapped and lashed out. 

You didn’t have time to react before you became a victim of another episode. Another rage fest where things went flying. When the refrigerator door slammed shut so hard that the shelves full of condiments shook. The way that cupboards were dented from the force of wood slamming against wood. 

Your dad would always be your dad, but he’d never be a good father. You could cry and cry and cry. You could cry enough tears to create an ocean, but it’d never be enough to wash the hate out of your father. That realization caused your heart to break apart. 

Your biological father would never love you, at least, not the way you loved him. Your chasing was starting to slow down. You could spend a few more years chasing his love and begging on your knees for it, but when was the last time your father said he loved you? 

When was the last time you were your father’s child? When was the last time that your father seemed to give a shit about you? Did he know your favorite color? Did he know the songs that caused your heart to boom with adrenaline? 

Better yet, did he know something as simple as your birthday? Does he know or does he laugh as he asks you because it’s not such a big deal to him? So when he hands you a card from the dollar store with his name, does it feel just as worthless as his love for you? 

“Is it wrong to want to be loved?” 

“Never. It’s never wrong to be loved and I’m sorry you don’t have that kind of love. If you want me to, I’ll share my father with you.” 

“I haven’t even met your father.” 

“Oh, I was talking about Bang Chan.”

“Minho!” You leaned over to lightly slap his shoulder. Before you could reach it, he jerked out of reach. His hand grabbed your wrist and he jerked you closer. 

“Hey!” 

Your annoyance instantly dissolved the moment his lips met yours. Your body relaxed and you began to kiss him back. At this moment, none of your father’s lack of love mattered. Right now, you had this and what a fool you’d be to ever give it up.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

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[bianca-mii]

Paul & Richard❤️

We all love pictures with our fav guitarists kissing or hugging, but I'd like to share some other, slightly less popular photos I find something truly special about:)

Here they look SO MUCH alike. Almost like the same person one frame later. They're wearing matching outfits - black pants with extra belts, black jerseys, sleeves (Richard's a little longer and with red element, but with the red lighting on Paul too it's not much of a difference). They are in almost identical positions with the left leg on Richard's podium, their guitars are in a position in which you can't tell they're different, and most of all - they're rocking the same beautiful smile of pure joy of playing together.

They look SO happy here. I don't know if it was raining (looks a little bit like it), but they don't seem to be bothered at all, they're so much like we don't care, the world is ours!

Again extremely happy guitarists. Here not so much in the world is ours mode, more like the one is the entire world for the other. And nothing else matters...

Now grumpy guitarists for a change. This pic makes me laugh so much. Aww babes, who stole your morning coffee? They BOTH look in such a bitchy mood:D

This photo has such a strong bride and groom vibe. Only Schneider as the priest is missing;)

That's probably only an illusion, but I got the feeling Paul shows a thumbs up while Richard is just about show s thumbs down. Also Paul is visibly pleased, while Richard has rather a scowl on his face. Would make a perfect picture for Richard's words "when I'm like NO, he always goes YES".

Here with those little smiles they look like two schoolgirls gossiping during the break:D Richard obviously smoking, standing on a little stair (I saw the fuller version of this pic but can't find it now:( ), Paul standing on the ground. I've noticed a few times that when they stand next to each other, Paul tries to make himself smaller, as if he didn't want Richard to cone across as barely any taller than him. Also, they both seem to have their mouths open, I wonder how they decide which one talks and which is forced to listen at the moment. Paul probably has it easier because Richard has to take drags of his cigarette:D

Guitarists in black with fans (there was a lady, similar age as the man in between, next to Richard, but I cut her off, sorry😶). I don't know where it's from, but I remember there was no other R+ bandmembers. Perhaps the guitarists flying somewhere together, just the two of them?😇

Such an interesting shot. There's something about their faces that makes them even more attractive when you see them next to each other like this. They really are the match made in heaven...

Ok, no Richard here, but that enhanced super charming smile was for him - Paul looked exactly where his fellow guitarist was sitting. I wish we could see Richard's face at this very moment too...

Edit: I remember no credits whatsoever, I'm really sorry;( please contact for credit if you're the author!

Edit 2: gif with Paul smiling charmingly to Richard by @mrsfitzgerald 🙂

Also, only 10 pics because tumblt doesn't allow more in a post:(

[a-spes]

| Devious Lies (1/3) - Anon request - When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

Hi. I have a request for natasha x fem reader one shot. It is quite long and detail. I hope you don’t mind.

Natasha and y/n have been dating for a while and announced it to the group. Maria, who is their close friend, is harboring feeling for y/n in secret. One night Maria invites y/n over for a drink in the middle of nowhere and y/n accept as Maria told her that she is having a hard time and in need of a friend. Initially, Maria talks about her problems and y/n consoles her. But then Maria started to reveal her feeling towards y/n. Y/n starts to feel uncomfortable and says that it is better if they went back to the compound but then Maria asks y/n to drink one more bottle and then they can go. Unbeknown to y/n the drink is spike and she fell asleep shortly after. Then Maria drives to a hotel and fuck a sleeping y/n and take photos to make it seems like y/n is cheating with Maria. She the sends the photos to natasha. The next morning, y/n wakes up in the hotel alone and lost but then decides to just go back to the compound. When she arrives, Natasha confronts y/n about it. Y/n the tries to explain everything to natasha but she just doesn’t accept it or don’t even want to hear it. Y/n does everything she can to amend their relationship, but nothing works. Pass the one-month mark, by this time everyone on the teams knows and is giving her the cold shoulder. They can’t work as a team anymore and request for y/n to be transferred.

Even though y/n is devastated she accept the transfer because she knows it is for the best. Everyone cut ties with her. But unbeknown to the team, tony keep in contact with her. This is because only tony listen and tries to help her. And actually, before the transfer they already found proves that this is all Maria’s doing but decided to keep quiet in order not to ruin their friendship. But on Natasha birthday, y/n decides she wants to celebrate with by coming to the compound. She asks tony for helps and they eventually decided that y/n can come in a cartoon costume so that Natasha will not recognize her. She just wants to see Natasha happy, and she agrees. During the celebration, y/n arrives in a costume and entertain everyone especially Natasha. Y/n is crying inside the costume because she is really happy seeing Natasha smiles and laugh. Before y/n return, she gives Natasha a gift. Upon opening the gift, Natasha suspect that y/n is the one in the costume, but she shakes it off.

Fast forward to one month before Natasha birthday the next year. Someone brought the topic of the person in costume during last year celebration and wonder if the person will come again. Tony is drunk during the time and accidentally say ‘she will come, she loves Natasha too much not too’. Natasha hears this and decide to confront tony to know who this person is. Tony let it all slip as he is too drunk. He also says the truth about the cheating incident. Maria is also there and decides to come clean and apologize as she regrets it very much.

(...) (not posting the rest of the request yet 'cause it would spoil the fic, but you all are definitely not ready for this 🤭) (and I swear the anon that left that in my inbox should write 'cause I would die for more fics like this) (but thank you for leaving it in my inbox, and trusting me to bring to life your incredible idea. I just hope you are still around, 'cause it took me a lot of time to actually start writing it, so I can just hope you'll be here to let me know what you thought about it).

| Some changes have been made : Maria is replaced by an oc (sorry, I grew attached to Maria the past few months, and definitely can't see her doing something like that, hope you don't mind 😭). it's going to be a short series of three parts. it's alternating between present and flashbacks so the reading order will differ from what's presented in the request (but every element will be found on the fic' at one point).

| Coming in a few weeks :))

[thehighladywrites]

The Airhead Chronicles

… and the explanation

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader, nesta archeron, feyre archeron

-> summary: You meet the third Archeron sister, what could she possibly want? Secret and past relationships get discussed

-> warnings: light angst, I had to vilify Nesta, even tho I adore her. Feyre is just fucking hot in this, cuddling, hurt to comfort, reader getting flashbacks/thoughts about her old life, cassian protecting his mate, oh and giving him a blowjob so nsfw lol, also reader is fucked.

-> amara’s note: sorry for the wait, i changed the plot like a million times. seriously, there are versions with super angst, versions where nesta poisons cassian and brainwashes him, there are just crazy plots but i hope you like this one💗💗 also this is probably the final chapter bc i have nothing else left. there will be one vacation chapter later and that’s it💗💗 soon i’ll be posting nerd azriel x bimbo reader, stay tuned👀👀

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

“Cassie, baby, who is she?”

Anger filled cassian at the vulnerability in your voice. How dared Nesta speak to you like that? In his anger, he hadn’t realized that he had flinched away from your touch. Looking down at you, his hardened eyes softened.

You looked up at him with a worried expression, eyes filled with fear. He realized what this looked like and hurried himself to explain.

“She’s Feyre and Elain’s sister.”

Nesta’s scoff echoed through his chambers as she stalked closer, keeping eye contact with him. You hadn’t even realized what she was wearing, she was dressed in a very short night gown and robe.

Wait, was she in here for Cassian?

No, Feyre and Rhys told you that Nesta wasn’t present at dinner today but she was aware of the two of you.

This isn’t making any sense, maybe she’s confused. Because no one goes after a mated fae, right? Yes, that’s it! She must be confused.

She had to be fucking confused because you really didn’t like how close she was standing to him.

Stepping forward you gave her a sickly sweet smile,

“You’re like really pretty, I can tell you’re their sister but you’re too close to my mate. Back off.”

Nesta looked at you bewildered,

“Excuse you? I'm merely talking to him. Are you not allowed friends, Cassian? Don't you find that a tad controlling?” she delivered with a mix of disdain and sharp sarcasm, her words cutting through the air like a blade.

She stepped closer to you and you had never seen so much hate in a persons eye.

“And who do you think you are? I’ve known him for several years, so if I want a moment to talk to him then it’s what I shall have.”

You smiled at her ready to punch her,

“You’re dressed like a slut in his room. I mean there’s nothing wrong with it, we all should embrace our inner sluts but just not with my mate, okay? Either back off or I’ll make you back off and that’s just a hassle. I mean, I just got these nails and my outfit is too cute for blood!”

Before she could step closer, Cassian grabbed your arm and pulled you back as he kept an unreadable face towards Nesta.

“Give us a moment.”

Your stomach dropped as you caught her secret smile. Why did they need to be alone? Had you done something? Oh Gods would he go back to her now? He wouldn’t do that right?

Flashbacks from your past came back, men would have their fun and then leave you. It was a big insecurity you had and you just hoped it wasn’t like that.

“But-”

“One moment.”

His firm words made your throat close up, you always got emotional when someone raised your voice at you, so to save face, you ripped your arm out of his grip, not once looking back as you hurried out of his room ready to leave.

—

Cassian’s pov:

As the doors closed, Cassian glanced back at the door with nausea as he heard your sobs. In that moment, he wished he could be closer to you. The safety he felt with you was incomparable to anyone else. The need to comfort you was taking over.

“She is as stupid as a bag of rocks. You’ve seriously mated with her?”

Cassian's head whipped towards Nesta, anger simmering in his eyes. He couldn't stand her condescending tone and the comment that belittled you.

Cassian's voice was firm and filled with a lethal edge as he addressed Nesta,

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, but you need to leave. I don’t care what you think we had, if you ever speak to my mate like that again, I’ll kill you.”

His words were clipped as he practically spit them at her. Nesta still not grasping his rage and annoyence, started pulling on the strings of her robe, trying to undress.

“Please, you know you would be happier and more satisfied with me. Don’t you remember the times you took me like some rabid beast in bed? You can’t honestly tell me you don’t miss me.”

She got closer and closer, but before she could touch his body, he grabbed her forearm.

Cassian maintained a strong grip on her, pulling her closer. His voice was unwavering, “As I said, you insulted my mate and you’re directly ignoring what I’m saying. I don’t miss you in the slightest, Nesta. I’m finally happy, and I feel sorry that you must resort to this.”

She pulled her arm back roughly and again scoffed,

“Love always made you disgustingly weak.”

Cassian chuckled, “Loving you sure did. But with her, it has made me stronger than ever. It's a pity you don't understand that strength.”

He pivoted and stared out the window as he delivered his last words to her.

“Even if she wasn’t my mate, it would have never been us. So, don’t ever disrespect her like this again. And if I find out you’ve said anything else to or about her, there would be no one in this world stopping me from getting you.”

His words were casual and promising as if he wasn’t talking about literally murdering her for even speaking ill to you.

——

You tried not to cry, but being the sensitive soul you were, tears just couldn't resist. Ugh, talk about embarrassing! How on earth were you supposed to face that girl again? And when you replayed his tone in your head, the waterworks just cranked up a notch.

Trying to find your way through Rhysand's massive mansion, you got easily distracted. Oh, look, a beautiful painting! You gazed up at the massive artwork that covered most of the wall. It showed a life-sized scene with Rhysand, Feyre, Elain, Amren, Mor, Azriel, and—hold on—Nesta and Cassian sitting very close. Wait, no, she was sitting on top of him. What the fuck? Were they a thing before you? Why didn't he tell you? He just casually mentioned she was the third Archeron sister, conveniently skipping the whole history chapter.

Great. The male you mated with was just like every lying piece of shit out there. You rolled your eyes at the situation, irritated that you once again realized that males only wanted one thing from you and after they were done, moved on to another. You couldn’t lie, it really stung, especially with the bond but you’d survive.

“I was supposed to throw that away tomorrow.”

Feyre's gentle voice reached your ears, prompting you to lift your head in her direction. With a sorrowful expression, you acknowledged her, doing your best to hold back tears.

Feyre had been a true friend; you had loved her from the moment Rhysand introduced her to you. She was incredibly funny, offered great advice, and was the perfect companion for gossip. Many times, you had found solace in her arms when someone broke your heart, and you knew that if she asked how you felt now, tears would be inevitable.

“Oh, hi Fey. Is this a secret painting or something?”

She gave you her signature soft smile, moving closer as she looked at her painting.

“No, honey, not secret. Old. This was something I painted a few years ago. And it is not needed anymore, so I was getting rid of it since no one wanted the reminder up.”

“Be honest Fey, were they a couple?”

She looked hesitant to answer but sighed and explained,

“They thought they were mates. They were together, yes, but there was a lot of miscommunication and fights. Nesta became very closed off and wanted nothing to do with Cassian after a while. They broke up, and it became a big shift in our family. Now she lives in her own apartment, and we barely see her. Every night we invite her for dinner, but she doesn’t even bother declining; she just doesn’t come.”

Your brain just focused on the fact that they were almost mates. And now she was upstairs in a closed room with your real mate. What the hell was she doing here if she deliberately declined every dinner Feyre invited her to?

“Well, surprise, she’s here. Yeah, that’s right, she’s upstairs talking to him right now.”

“Wait, what? She’s here? What is she doing with Cassian? She said she never wanted to be around him ever again.”

You felt nauseous. She was trying to win him back. Your man, she was wanting YOUR man now that he was locked up and unavailable.

Feyre’s muffled words pulled you out of your thoughts as you asked her to repeat herself, too busy in your own mind to hear her the first time.

“I said let’s go up to them. What could they possibly be talking about that you don’t need to hear? Let’s go.”

She grabbed your hand, and you could tell she was totally pissed off. You smiled a little to yourself. Maybe you didn’t even need to say anything after all.

You climbed up the stairs as your heels clicked against every step. Ugh, you really needed a few inches off.

You froze at the thought. Had you really reached rock bottom? Shaking your head at the rash thought you kept climbing. You’d rather fucking die than not use your many, many heels.

The door opened up, and both of you stopped in your tracks. Nesta stepped out of the room and looked between you and Feyre before her lips twitched in a cruel smile. She pulled her robe tighter and glanced back into the room, fixing her hair as she shoved right past you, all while smiling and hitting both of your shoulders.

You felt like time stopped. Your stomach dropped, and your throat closed up. Honestly, you didn’t know who to confront first – the homewrecking bitch or the cheating bastard.

There was no missing her insinuation. Come on, you saw what she wore under her robe – a piece of lace and nothing more. And now she was pulling it tighter to her? Yeah right, they totally fucked.

Okay, the cheating bastard it was since Feyre turned around and grabbed Nesta’s arm, pushing her into the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You ignore my invitations, and now you’re back in Cassian’s room? To what? To show him how distasteful you are? Why, in the Mother’s name, would you go inside, dressed like this when you know he has a mate? I thought you, of all people, would know more about class, Nesta.”

Nesta looks you dead in the eyes as she just smiles again and shrugs Feyre off.

“He will come back to me eventually. Cassian knows where his true feelings lie.”

“I’ve never called another girl a bitch, because that’s like so weird but you’re the biggest, grade A bitch i’ve met in my life. I’m mated to him, not you. And keep one eye open, because I will so kick your ass when you least expect it.”

You had an acrylic nail pointing to her. You also give her an annoyed look before turning around, leaving her with Feyre as you open up the room to see Cassian looking out the window.

“Please, tell me she didn’t do what I think she did. Because I will actually kill you both.”

Cassian turned around with a tired expression and stepped forward before picking you up with one arm and bringing you to the foot of his bed. He began undressing, leathers and siphons discarded on a nearby table. He pulled you closer and began undressing you too which put a crease in your brow.

“I love getting fucked but sex isn’t the answer, Cassie. I don’t like feeling left out, so just explain.”

He looked at you with soft eyes before kissing your forehead and lifting you up again. He strode to the other side of the bed before gently putting you down and sliding underneath the sheets. He pulled you impossibly closer until you were almost on top of him with your head on his chest and took a breather before explaining.

“She tried to undress and then get me back, but I made it clear that it wasn't something I wanted. It's a really long story, but Nesta used to be closed off, pushing people away to shield herself from getting hurt. After facing a lot of challenges, we got together, but we just weren't a good fit. We clashed a lot, and she eventually reverted to her old ways. The breakup was messy, but honestly, we're both better off without each other.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened. Sympathy and pain for them surged within you, yet a selfish relief that you still had him to yourself.

“Tonight, she panicked when she saw you. I said no, asked her to leave, but then she tried to undress. I firmly kicked her out. I'm sorry for dismissing you like that, sweetheart. I know her well, and she might have said something to you. I don't think I could have held back if she did.”

Oh, that explains why she was fixing her robe! Phew, the sight nearly made you sick.

While you briefly considered telling Cassian about Nesta's earlier words about where his feelings lie, you decided to leave it at that. You're definitely planning to kick her ass someday, just not right now. Your current priority is to snuggle up to your Cassie and comfort him.

A sweet kiss and blowjob, just as you promised, seems like the perfect remedy to make everything better.

You shift your head and look up at his tired face.

Maybe just the kiss today, you decide. He looked very tired and-

“A blowjob sounds mighty fine, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widen a bit as your cheeks heat at his words. You then remember that he knew what you were thinking because of the bond. He could be really forward sometimes, your perfect match.

“I was just thinking of giving you one but you seem really, really tired, Cassie. Ya still want one from me?”

He shifted, grabbing your hips before sitting you upright on his lap so that you straddled his lying body.

“Sugar, I’ll take anything you have to offer me.”

He let out a deep chuckle at the way your face lit up with a smile as you let out a shriek of excitement.

Your hands eagerly tore the blanket away, shifting down to get eye-level with his cock.

“This is all mine, no one in the whole world will ever get it, ever. Just mine.”

Cassian raised himself onto his elbows, gazing at you before offering reassurance,

"Only yours, sweet one. Forever."

You smile at him before you wrap your plush lips around his leaking tip, humming when he groans in pleasure.

Your entire body heats at his needy sounds. There was nothing you loved than making Cassian feel good. His hisses and little ‘ fuck, right there baby’ was filling you up with pride and was really giving you an ego boost. It was you making him feel like this, you who he loved more than anything.

The thought alone made your pussy wet. The scary 6’7 general of The Night Court, one of the most feared and skilled warriors in history was nothing more than a babbling mess infront of you.

Cassian lets you take your time, allowing you to get used to his size. He lets you take control even though all he wants to do is bury his cock deep in you. So when you run your tongue into his slit, his hips jerk and his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag on him.

“There’s my girl, so fucking perfect for me. Can you take me all the way, baby?”

You nod and take him deeper before you swallow, making your throat contract around his whole lenght. He gasps then pulls out with a pop, looking at you bewildered. You however just stared at him irritated, huffing at the disruption.

“Cassie, I wasn’t done! Why did you pull out, I almost had you,” you whine at him.

“Exactly. And we’re not done yet. I plan on fucking you until you can’t think straight.”

Cassian pulled you closer, putting a fat kiss on your lips before getting on top of you and fulfilling his promise to you.

He fucked you so hard, you passed out from the intensity. You had cum over and over again, time not registering in your brain.

As you sat together, the atmosphere turned sweet, and you found solace in the connection. All you knew was the comfort of his being, engulfing you.

—

You both lay there exhausted, wrapped in each other's arms, the once turbulent bond now a tranquil river of love and understanding.

“You wanna tell me about your shopping trip yesterday, sweets?” he asked, eager to hear your voice light up with excitement as you shared details about your latest fashion finds. Your ability to bring a sense of peace and light with the simplest conversations made Cassian feel an unmatched warmth. He knew he'd never love anyone as deeply as he loved you.

Throughout the night and into the next morning, you talked about everything under the sun. You even took a moment to explore his old room, running your fingers over his old possessions and playfully trying on his oversized leathers. The connection between you two felt stronger than ever, a testament to the depth of your bond.

Again, he thought about how there was no one he would ever love as much as he loved you.

Cassian was in deep, deep water and he wasn’t planning on ever getting out.

🏷️ taglist: @danikamariewrites @amara-moonlight @willowpains @cleverzonkwombatsludge @stonerpersona @starsinyourseyes @phoenixgurl030 @dreamlandreader @fxckmiup @infintyfandoms @ayme301 @sevikas-whore @fightmedraco @sweetshifter @stasiereads @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @clairebear08 @thelov3lybookworm

[changisworld]

since it's I.N's month, could be one where gf decides to do something "special" for him, shoving her underwear on his pocket and waiting for him on the restroom?

literally sprinted to post this JUST in time for his bday😭 HAPPY 23RD BIRTHDAY JEONGIN<3

WORD COUNT:1,874

18+, MDNI!! smut warnings under the cut

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

any reblogs/ comments are deeply appreciated!!

SMUT WARNINGS; oral(M receive), public sex, marking, pet names;baby, hunny etc, quite cute tbh, public teasing, finger sucking, mentions of spit, tiniest tiniest bit of dirty talk?? aftercare(as much as you can give in a public bathroom.) creampie, SO much eye contact, bits of fluff

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

You are currently out for dinner with Jeongin, Seungmin & your friend Yuna for Jeongins birthday. (happy 23rd birthday jeongin<3). The dinner has been going really well & you’re enjoying the food you ordered & a glass of wine ordered by yuna, You’re laughing with the 3 of them when you feel jeongin put his hand on the top of your thigh & caress it, his eyes not even batting down once, still talking to Seungmin about random group activities.

You suck in a deep breath, trying to act as if the simple gesture isn’t already making you blush & heat up under his touch. You put your hand above his & hold it as you continue eating & talking but his hand moves again but this time, he’s moves his hand forward, now cupping the part of your cunt that he can reach with you sitting down. You stop chewing half way through, feeling yourself leaking in your panties. You throw a flushed look to Jeongin but he just looks back giving you the same gorgeous dimpled smile he always does. A second later, he pulls his hand away to help put his dish onto the middle of the table to help the waitress take away the plates easier.

You think for a moment before coming up with a plan.

You ‘accidentally’ drop your fork & reach down to pick it up, but at the same time you use your free hand to wiggle your panties off your legs, past your heels & you ball it up in your hand before putting the fork you dropped, onto the pile of plates.

The waitress comes & takes the dishes away a few minutes later & refills everyone’s wine & you begin looking at menus.

“Since it’s Jeongins birthday, y/n where are you gonna take him hm?” Seungmin winks, smiling over the menu hes holding. You raise your eyebrows & smile back

“It’s a surprise, lips are sealed sorry. anyways i’m gonna go to the bathroom, if i’m not back in time, order me the chocolate molten lava cake please” Yuna nods at you & Jeongin, Yuna & seungmin keep having their own conversation, in the meantime you lean over to kiss his cheek but you also put your hand in his pocket & drop the panties that have been balled up in your hand for the past 5 minutes, into his pocket.

You stand up & head to the bathroom, smiling to yourself, feeling proud. You turn the corner & head into the single woman’s bathroom stall & close the door, not locking it. You walk over to the sink & look at yourself & dab your finger on the tip of your lips, getting rid of the slightly messy lipstick from eating.

Not even two minutes later, the door opens & steps in Jeongin. You turn around so you’re leaning against the sink, facing him.

“Took ya long enough, what did you tell them?” You ask, reaching over slightly & pulling his dress tie towards you so he is now right in front of you, he smiles & starts twirling your hair on his finger while looking into your eyes.

“Some lame excuse about me saying i was gonna go find a person who could ask the chef to give me strawberry sauce instead of caramel.” He chuckles slightly before leaning down to your neck to bite it slightly, you hiss at the contact.

“And they just believed it?” You lean into his mouth & touch, already palming his cock through his dress pants, creating an obvious tent.

“Who cares if they didn’t, they wouldn’t say anything regardless, but we need to make this quick baby, don’t wanna get kicked out by getting caught now do we?” He asks you rhetorically, hand already sliding down to cup your pussy, not surprisingly already dripping, You sigh at the contact & loosen his the & undo the top three buttons so you have access to his collarbones before leaning in & sucking a mark on them, hand still working on his boner.

“You’re so wet baby, did my hand really do this to you hm? you get off on such simple touches in front of our friends hm?” you can feel him smirking against your neck as he pulls back before making eye contact with you, reaching into his pocket & pulling out your soaked panties.

“So dirty my love, couldn’t even wait until we got home hm? you wanted me in here so badly” You roll your eyes before pulling him by the tie again & kissing him again, your lipstick smudging on his face along with your own. “You’re just as dirty baby, you knew where to find me & came, into the girls bathroom too.” you say in-between kisses.

You undo his zipper & trouser button before pulling them along with his underwear just enough to set his cock free, already hard & red, leaking at the tip slightly. You stop kissing him to trail yourself down his frame until you end up on his knees & you instantly kiss his tip, making it even more red but with your lipstick staining it this time, you’re convinced his dick blushed. You look up at Jeongin whos looking down at you with nothing but love but also lust in his eyes, which makes you think you genuinely leaked onto the floor.

You take his tip into your mouth & begin twirling your tongue around it just the way he likes. Your hands reach up on instinct & start playing with his balls & he grips onto the sink to balance himself as he throws his head back, biting his lip to try hold back his whines.

“Your mouth is so f-ffucking good baby, it’s so wet holy fuck” He says, trying to keep his voice calm but just comes out high pitched & whiny. You decide to thank his compliment by hallowing your cheeks as much as you possibly can & going as deep as you can, your nose almost touches his pelvis as you begin humming & gagging around him, spit coming out your mouth & dripping onto your knees & the floor beneath you.

After another minute or so, he pulls your hair roughly off his dick, you whine at the sudden gesture.

“Sorry baby i-i was gonna cum, yo-your mouth is too good. get up on the sink plea-se” He pants out, sweat beading at his forehead & getting caught in his eyebrows. You stand up, giggling at how fucked out he was & begin to climb onto the sink but he helps you anyway.

He hikes your dress up & puts his fingers to your lips, you open your mouth instantly & you let them rest on your tongue before you coat them with spit. He pulls them back out & runs them over your already dripping cunt.

“Didn’t even need your spit baby, you’re soaked already, here, use this to keep you quiet” He hands them to you & you take this opportunity to put them in your mouth, looking up at him with shiny eyes.

“Don’t even need to prep ya’, you ready?” He asks, how pumping his wet dick in his hand slowly, waiting for your go-ahead.

You nod instantly & desperately so he breaches your cunt with the tip & you shudder & his eyebrows furrow. He slides all the way to the hilt & you throw your head back & groan into the fabric in your mouth.

Jeongin leans over you & pulls the panties out of your mouth & shoves them back in his pocket & bites your bottom lip.

“I’ll just silence your moans with my lips instead hunny” You begin to whine as you already feel your orgasm bubbling up, Jeongin knows your body like the back of his hand & knows exactly where to hit to get you to cum almost instantly.

“You’re so fucking b-big innie holy fuck, n-not gonna last” you say, eyes rolling back.

“don’t speak like that unless you don’t wanna cum before i do i mean it, you’re moulded just for my dick.. i’m sure of it.” He says back, voice breathy & whiny.

He starts kissing you as his other hand worms it’s way down to your clit & starts pressing down on it & drawing figures with it just the way you like it & before you can even warn him, you’re clenching around his dick & you cum. Your legs begin shaking & you break the kiss & you end up with your lips against his neck & you subconsciously suck a dark hickey onto it. Jeongin cums straight after seeing & feeling your orgasm & lips on his neck. His ropes of cum shoot out inside you & you feel it inside you too.

You both come down from your orgasms together, Jeongin in-between your legs, putting most of his body weight on you as you are still on top of the sink against the wall, panting heavily. You give the hickey you just gave him a gentle kiss & you reach over to grab some paper towels from the paper towel dispenser & start dabbing jeongins face from all the sweat on it & he laughs.

“I think i need a bit more than a few paper towels hunny, look at me.” You laugh, looking up at his face as he looks at himself in the mirror, face & neck completely covered in lipstick, all smudged.

“i dont even wanna know what my face must look like if yours is that covered” you say, getting off the sink with Jeongins help & you both let out another chuckle at the state of your face, lips still stained with lipstick but your cheeks are just as stained as them.

Jeongin & you both work on trying to make yourselves look presentable again but it proves a lot easier said than done. Jeongin kisses your cheek while you are still trying to get your hair to not look as if a bird lives in it.

“That’s the best it’s gonna get y/n, you have a brush in your clutch bag.” Jeongin says, holding your waist from behind & balancing his chin on you. “I wonder if dessert arrived yet, cmon we gotta go, probably a hugeee line outside the bathroom right now.” He gives you a kiss on your cheek & looks in the mirror again, sighing.

“Well we would have gave them a good audio show wouldnt we?” you chuckle to him, throwing your hair up to cover all the tugs. “alright, let’s go. hope you enjoyed this birthday present baby” You turn around & hold onto his shoulders.

“Just being with you is an amazing birthday present, why not i give you a ‘thank you’ present at home hm? by the way, i’m keeping these. for my own use.” He says, smiling at you with his dimples on his cheeks, holding your panties in his palm again.

You giggle before walking over & unlocking the door, hand in hand with Jeongin & swallowing your pride before walking back over to the table with Yuna & Seungmin… who had already finished dessert.

[fullsunstrawberry]

nct dream reaction: having a wet dream about you

warnings: suggestive but doesn’t go into too much detail

{nct dream masterlist}

a/n: this as been stuck in my drafts for way to long… not one of my best :( but i still wanted to post it

permanent taglist: @vvsmydiamonds127 @erin-calling

mark:

would not look you in the eyes

he practically goes missing

he just feels so guilty

you’re good friends with all the guys and he doesn’t want you to think of him any different

you have to bribe johnny to tell you where mark is

he told you locked himself in his room

but before you can go confront mark

johnny tells you to wear something sexy with a wink

this confused you even more!!! wtf is going on

you listened to johnny and wore a low cut shirt

you barged in his room already complaining about how he was ignoring you and how much it hurt for him to avoid you

“are you even paying attention?”

when he didn’t respond, you noticed he was paying a little too much attention…not to what you were saying but to your chest

you were getting a little annoyed but weirdly turned on

“take a picture, it will last longer”

“for real, can i?”

renjun:

this boy would be STRESSING OUT

he knows you’re cute

but he never looked at you in a sexual way

so why is his dreams messing with him

the next time he would see you, unlike mark, he would watch your every move

he wouldn’t shy away from you, until you try to make any sort of physical touch

then he would freak out

you noticed how weird he was acting so you suggested having a little drink

just to loosen up a little bit

well a little bit turned into a lot a bit

he ended up telling you about the dream and you pushed him for more details

“ you think we can recreate it?”

jeno:

he would feel so guilty

when he woke up from a dream about you

he would feel disgusted at himself

not because he didn’t like it… but because he liked it a little too much

the whole day he would be grouchy

until the guys kept texting you and asking you what’s wrong with jeno

so you decided to head to the dorms to figure out what’s wrong

but he was the same jeno you always see, smiley and cuddly

it wasn’t until you guys were cuddling you noticed he was starting to get hard

“jeno, are you okay?”

“fuck, i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable” he groaned while trying to separate himself from you

when you pulled him back he was shocked

“i never said i was uncomfortable”

haechan:

you would think he would stop flirting with you..

but his flirting wouldn’t stop

usually when you would flirt back he would tease you

but now when you flirt back he blushes

then he goes silent

you would know something is up because THIS BOY NEVER STOPS TALKING TO YOU

when you confront him, he would make so many excuses

he has practice and can’t talk

hes too busy stuffing his face with food

he’s in the middle of a game

you have to corner him and border-line threaten him to tell you what’s wrong

when he wouldn’t look at you in the eyes and kept saying stuff about dreams is when it hit you

“did you have a wet dream about me or something?”

“WHAT NO WHY WOULD I HAVE A WET—“

you cut him off “aw that’s to bad” and winked at him while slowly moving away from him

“Wait! um what if i did?”

jaemin:

saw this coming

you two always flirt

EVERY SINGLE DAY

he basically expected you to show up in his dreams

but he wasn’t going to outright tell you!

the only person who knew about jaemin’s little secret was jeno

and jeno was TIRED

so in a game of never have i ever, jeno pulled out the big guns

“never have i ever had a wet dream about one of my friends”

you and jaemin made eye contact before you both took a sip of your drinks

jeno laughed and went to his own room, his job here was done

“was it about me?” you asked

“of course, who else would it be about”

chenle:

this boy is done with life

the first time you sleep over his house

he has a wet dream about you

what is he? a prepubescent boy?

when he heard you calling his name and felt your hands shaking him

a little too real to be dreaming

he shot up and hoped that he didn’t say anything in his sleep

when he got a good look at your face he felt relieved

you looked worried and not disgusted

he was about to come up with a lie before you started laughing at him

“did you have a good dream? it sure sounded like you did”

chenle always has some smart ass response but right now he was left speechless

“you know i can help you?”

Jisung:

you two are close, like VERY CLOSE

best friends who share everything with each other

so when he had a wet dream about you

he simply ask you if you had ever had a weird dream with him

you didn’t really know why he was asking this until you saw how he was blushing

so you pushed him to tell you more about the dream he had about you

when he finally broke and told you he had a wet dream about you, you laughed

you didn’t get the big deal because you can’t really control what happens in your dreams

but when you say how jisung was blushing and how he was starting to get hard, you decided to take things to the next level

you always found jisung extremely hot

“do you wanna make your dream a reality?”

[eevee-genshin-blog]

How’d This Happen?!

A/n: First Post! Please enjoy! This was inspired by @idkfitememate Boar!Creator!

I was floating... it’s dark? What..?

I was just playing Genshin Impact... Where am I now..? It’s getting cold... Huh... What’s that light? When you first woke up, you didn’t understand what was happening. But you got isekai’d into Genshin Impact, as a cat. 

You mostly looked like Luna from Sailor Moon... but your eyes. They were like a normal cat’s, but golden, and your pupils looked like Primogems. 

Great... You thought annoyed, you’ve read stories, some get cool powers, others get their phones... but you got a Cat! How unfair, but you choose to feel thankful, you didn’t know if their was anything to this place yet... 

They could have killed you for being an ‘ImPoStOr,’ you mentally mock the name... But you started to wonder and ended up cutting yourself.

Not gold blood. Not stary blood. Or pink blood. It looked like the Galaxy, the drops that lost contact with your skin floated up to the sky...

So... You were a god? How does that work? You were stuck in the form of a cat... So confusing... But you decided to wander around and learn.

=================================================

In the few weeks you’ve been here, you’ve found out the following.

One, the true “Impostor,” had descended here long ago.

Two, they weren’t an animal.

Three, you did, in fact, have a human form, but felines are your ‘Symbolic Animals,’ odd, but you’ve always been a cat person. (You did figure out how to turn back into human, but you didn’t have clothes and turned right back into a cat.)

Four, you can control the different elements; So you decided to be chaotic and make a cat friendly base in the trees and ground so no one would find you.

Five, the mobs didn’t attack you.

So far, when someone’s seen you, you’d bolt. But now, you have a proper escape plan! So, you started working. Of course, you struggled, after all, you weren’t exactly used to being a cat yet, or using the elemental powers. But you managed. 

Thankfully, Tevyat helped you, making sure you found fresh and clean water; giving you cat-friendly fruits to eat, or letting you catch big fishes; making sure the waters were calm if you tried swimming; and the winds gently blew you dry after.

But after a few months, you made a very small cave system for cats, or bunnies now that you think of the size, to travel through. You didn’t fully understand Dendro enough to make a tree base.

More time passed, as you lived as a cat. You didn’t care to keep up a ‘good appearance,’ why should you? You’re a cat in the forests near Mondstadt, staying alive was more important for you.

Time actually was passing so fast because you were so used to your world’s time. So, you didn’t really eat or sleep like the others here. So before you could process, a year had gone by... 

You spend that time playing; chasing seelies, napping with slimes, and visiting some Melusines in Fontaine (Them not telling anyone your the Creator). Letting the hilichurls braid your now fluffy and long fur. 

And you were getting homesick; yes, you were having fun... But you missed your parents, your older brother, your friends... Hell! You missed school, as crazy as it sounds...

No one here called you by your name... No one looked at you... No one thought anything of you now... But it was your face and name being taken by that person... 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, angrily... You didn’t like this as much as you thought you did... You enjoyed being free and not being hunted down... but you wanted to talk to people...

But you joined your favorite Hilichurl Camp, joining in with the fire dance. You were invested into the dance as you breathed Fireballs, of different shapes, into the night sky; Thankfully, not harming any trees, or wildlife.

But, barely missed the boy who was acting like a wolf-... Wait!?

Thanks for reading!! Sorry for my first post being so short, but updates will be slow... Once again, this was inspired by @idkfitememate please check them out!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for writing a paragraph on how I want to drop my friends?

(15F for ref, everyone in here is also F and around the same age)

In 2022, I returned from a six-week camp session with friends I only see once a year (pretty shitty experience ngl, but I still had fun), A couple days later, they accused me of stealing this girl's shirt since I was the last one to wear it. I told her I didn't and I wouldn't. I had a similar steal it because. They proceed to accuse me, so to get out my feelings I write this lengthy paragraph in my notes app expressing my thoughts and what I don't like about the group. This never gets sent out, and we stay friends.

In 2023, they went to camp again (for the last eligible year so it was very special to them), but I stayed home due to pre-existing commitments. This was also the time when the notes app trend was going on, a.k .a. where people would post their notes app and all the antics they wrote. I also posted a video like this, and on the sixth slide, I put the paragraph that I wrote in 2022 (it said 2022 at the top). They didn't immediately see this because they weren't allowed to have their phones, but I private the video before they got back due to a mental health issue I had accidentally aired out. At this time, I saw nothing wrong with the paragraph being included because all the issues had blown over.

A couple months later, I un-privated the video because YOLO and the group found it and immediately got hated on so hard for the video. They post pictures of me to social media stories write paragraphs about how awful of a person I am, create lies about me, and comment on all of my Tiktok posts where I talk about the issue, despite me being vague.

I don't know where I stand in this issue because yeah, I didn't go to the trip this year, and the paragraph was admittedly rude, but they didn't even give me a chance to explain, and getting body shamed on a private Snapchat story when they know I had an ED isn't something i think I deserve, but I need outsider perspective.

The paragraph for reference:

I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. The whole entire time I was at camp I felt isolated because I was not as involved and as social with the boys as you guys were/are, and that might not be your fault, but you guys have no care in that being the only thing you discuss on this group chat. Every time I text about something else, it always gets pushed to the side and now you are accusing me of stealing (name)’s top. I agree, I was the last on to wear it, but distinctly remember throwing it back into (name)'s trunk. I am sorry it did not make the trip back home, but it is not my fault. I don’t want your slutty top anyways, I only borrowed it because my ebb to street wasn’t going to work. I have done so much for you guys, like letting everyone borrow my clothes, giving away my lululemon, and while some of my pieces were stolen, I am not pointing fingers at random people because I have control of my feelings. So many words have been wasted protecting the reputation of Cabin 10 from others who think you guys are attention-seeking whores (you want names? It’s the whole fucking camp), and everyone looked at me in pity when I cried into my hands because I was so sad. I have heard you guys talk shit about me in front of my face (*giggling and whispering* Are you going to try out for the play? No that’s weird. Both heads turn towards me, and laughter erupts out of the two mouths. You know who you are), and you guys have talked shit about each other to me, so I can only imagine what has been said about me. I felt ashamed about my passions, the only personality trait you guys addressed was that I was so mean and I was smart (you only revealed the latter on in private, the former was told to everyone). I am done feeling horrible about myself because you guys are so wrapped up in what every (camp) boy thinks of you, so I am cutting contact. You have ruined my camp experience to the point where I am not coming back.

What are these acronyms?

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c33. Liquid dinner.

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END, LOVE YOU!!

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, EDs and death.

song to listen to when reading this: Like it tends to do, Lizzy McAlpine

abstract: This is a very sad chapter honestly. Close to the end also, don't get your hopes up cause I'm telling you, it's not ending well. I should know, I'm from the literal future. So yeah, messed up things. Jude's a liar man, I've always told ya. She might seem all confident, smart, sexy, funny… whatever...

'I fucking hate you so much'.

She spun in her chair, covering her face with her hands, while Honey giggled from his seat. It was three in the afternoon, the day after her chat with Simon. She was at the listening post, they had lunch together, her, Roman and Honey after working at the code all morning. She had to reveal she had a look at it the night before, they argued for the first ten minutes asking why she got to see it before the others. 'It's because I'm privileged, let it go.' She admitted, a small smirk on her lips. 'No seriously, why didn't we know you had it, how did you get it?' Honey asked. She bit her lip, thinking of what to say to make the matter sound somewhat legal. 'You know the guy with the mask?' She said.

'Yes, unfortunately I have seen him.' Honey.

'Scary dude, what about him?' Roman.

She crossed her arms in front of her. She was wearing a comfy sweater under her very elegant blazer jacket. 'He gave it to me yesterday.' She explained. 'We worked together before, we're friends.' She said. All true, no? They're friends.

Honey mumbled something under his breath. 'That's not fair!' argued Roman, he went on some more saying how unfair it was she could see evidence before them just because she was friends with that scary soldier. They resumed their tasks, trying their best at cracking the code. It took longer than anticipated. They removed all the letters from the paper and examined the back, what would have been at the back of the newspaper page. They moved them around in the large table that once was Roman's desk, trying to make out a message. After lunch, she felt tired, she wanted and deserved a nap. Her contact lenses burned her eyes, plastic wrappers and boxes of Chinese takeout were scattered all over the place. Roman was yawning from his side of the room. That was when Honey figured it out. 'I fucking hate you so much'.

She spun in her chair, covering her face with her hands, while Honey giggled from his seat. She approached his desk. 'I found it I think', he said. 'I divided the letters in diagonal like this…' He drew a line with his finger and parted two sections of the original code. 'And I switched them…' She helped him move the letters, until she started to see it too. Words were starting to form. They found a pattern in the setting of the letters, which resembled the choice of cutting capital letters and lowercase letters. They found some of the words were already in English, some needed translation. They were written in English letters, but were Serbian words. 'Novo…' she mumbled while setting the four letters aside. It meant 'New'. It was Roman who was sent to call Price this time. He ran through the corridors of the base, saying sorry to every person he bumped into while trying to get to Price's office.

Unfortunately for him, he found Ghost first. 'Oi!' He called out, making Roman stop in his tracks and turn around. 'You in a rush?' He asked, taking a few steps in his direction. The young linguist looked up at Ghost, his eyes piercing through his soul through the skull plate mask. He mumbled something about the listening post, which clearly interested Ghost in the conversation. Listening post meant Alba. 'We need Price, we figured it out. The code, you know...' He was able to breathe out while regaining his composure. 'She with you?' The other man asked, before starting to walk towards Price's office. 'What…' Roman struggled to follow Ghost's fast walking pace, 'Oh Jude? Yeah, why?' He was given no answer. They both urged Price to follow them and, once in the listening post room, they found Honey and Alba at the desk, hunched over looking at the characters scattered around.

'It makes total fucking sense!' Alba shouted at the door, before awkwardly covering her mouth with her hands, realising Price and Simon were there. Roman let out a loud laugh, joining his two colleagues, even Honey seemed happy and joyful more than Simon ever saw him. He watched Alba smile at her friends, moving one more letter on the table, writing the message on paper. 'S… T, E and R…' Honey whispered. Once they were done, Price and Ghost were allowed to look at it and read it. Alba's eyes encountered Ghost's. Just for a second. She was happy, she was proud. She was gorgeous, he liked how the blazer jacket fell gently on her hips, he liked the strands of hair that were covering the sides of her cheeks, rosy cheeks. He liked the fuzzy sweater she was wearing, a warm beige sweater. He could touch it, feeling the softness.

The message made, indeed, total fucking sense. It said Novo Groblje, which meant new cemetery, it said 'twenty one, one, two two three', which they supposed meant 21st of January of that year. Novo Groblje was a cemetery complex in Belgrade. She stood by the table while Price and Simon examined their work. She patiently waited for them to read the message and ensure they were satisfied with what they saw. It was Simon's look that gave it away. His eyes, his gaze immediately rose to meet hers, he looked at her with dilated pupils, his kind, chocolate brown eyes. He was amused. Price told them they did a good job and to keep up with the listening post for a few more days, just in case they needed any more information about the trafficking, but other than that, they were done.

She went out that night. She put on a dress for the first time in ages. There weren't many bars open too late, Honey suggested drinks to celebrate, Roman said yes, Gaz overheard and took it as the best opportunity to ask her to go out with them. She said yes, she went home and went on a run with Jinx. She was so happy she could't even manage to sit still. She was ecstatic, she had a drink before going out, she had gin hidden somewhere in her kitchen. She wore a dress, just below the knee, it was cold out. It was tight around the waist but fell gently on her hips. Black lace adorned her ribcage, a pattern that looked like flowers on the skin of her breasts. She curled her hair, she put on earrings that looked like pearly rain drops. She wore heels, and got a cab, she didn't want to drive. She intentionally arrived twenty minutes late, she found Roman and Honey at a table in the corner, they were drinking beer. Kyle and Soap were at the counter speaking to a man she didn't know. Kyle whistled when he saw her walking in. 'Look who finally decided to stop working…' He gave her a quick side hug, which she reciprocated, then said hi to Soap. 'What are you drinking?' She let Kyle buy her a beer, she didn't bother choosing, whatever he was having was fine. She noticed his eyes travelling on her figure as she leaned on the counter, she allowed it. They sat for an hour at the table with her two other colleagues, she dragged the soldiers towards Honey and Roman so they could be all together. The conversation was simple and easy, anecdotes and funny stories. She was hiding a yawn with her hand and debating on going home when Johnny gasped. 'Look who showed up…' He whispered, causing her to turn around in the booth, looking towards the entrance of the bar. At eleven in the evening on a Saturday, Simon Riley made his way inside the bar, a crowded bar even. Black mask, leather jacket and, something she had never seen before on him, sneakers. He looked in their direction, a nod of the head to signal that he saw them. He approached the counter to order a drink. Alba got up a minute after, trying not to make it seem too obvious. She said she was gonna get another beer, she asked the boys to watch her purse.

Her heart started beating at a much quicker pace upon seeing him. Did the others invite him, was he there by himself? Maybe he didn't want to be bothered. Was he there to see his friends? She approached him, walked behind him and stood at his right. He turned towards her, his eyes not even reaching her face, slowly making their way up from her naked calves to her chest. 'I wasn't expecting you to come', she crossed her arms in front of her chest, forcing him to look her in the eyes. 'I can leave if you don't want me here.' He replied, to that she smiled. 'Can I buy you a drink?' She offered, making his heart skip a beat. 'To thank you for stealing classified evidence for me.' She said. He allowed himself to stare at her for a few more seconds before replying. Her hair was wavy, falling gently on her shoulders, her makeup shiny on her eyelids. She had some kind of eyeliner on that made the emerald green colour of her pupils stand out. Her cheeks were warm from the alcohol. 'How many have you had?' He asked. He realised he was flirting without even trying, he felt like he was giving in this kind of sin. She was the sin. He felt like the setting, the bar, the fact they were surrounded by strangers, dressed differently from their day to day… It made him feel like he could speak to her that way. 'Just one!' She sat on the stool behind her, reaching his eye level. 'Do I look drunk?' He smiled and shook his head. While he ordered their drinks, she gave their friend's table a look, finding Soap and Kyle staring. 'You guys celebrating?' She concentrated back on Simon. 'I told you Honey would figure it out.' She replied. He didn't have a balaclava on, he had a black surgical mask and the hat she gifted him for Christmas. He partly took off the mask, letting it hang on his right ear, so that his uncovered side faced the wall. She watched him take a sip of his drink.

'They know you're Alba' He said. She nearly choked on her beer.

'I told them you're Alba… by accident.' He corrected himself, like he needed to get that off his chest. She went pale under the lights of the bar.

'What…'

'I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking and I let it slip. Johnny and Gaz...' He looked at her, suddenly apologetic, like a lost puppy. She swallowed a lump in her throat, her blood rushing to her ears. What a way to ruin the night. 'It's fine.' She managed to mumble.

She was still recovering from that information when he spoke again. 'How are… hum.. how are rehearsals going?' He tried to change the subject to make her forget about his terrible revelation. She looked at him appalled, her eyes wide. 'Uhm… good.' She replied awkwardly. He was terrified his attempt to change the subject didn't work. His expression made her giggle, that awful silence between them made her facade crumble. 'Sorry, I'm gonna have to stop speaking to you, you're terrible at keeping secrets', she commented. He seemed to relax, his shoulders less tense. He was really afraid he'd upset her for a moment.

'That's not true…'

'Ah, you told everyone my one secret...' She was smiling at this point, dimples forming in her cheeks. Her left canine teeth was chipped. He drank some more. 'So… rehearsals?' He asked again. Her chest tightened, he really wanted to know? 'It's been hard, there's this one lift which is pretty intense with my dance partner', she fidgeted with a napkin on the wooden counter… 'But the hard part is Snow Queen really, there are 16 fuettés at the end of my first entrance which I can't seem to get right, cause I jump a lot during that part and I get tired, I don't think my left foot is strong enough for those many turns, you know, 16 fuettés is kind of a lot…' she rambled, maybe talking more to herself than to him at this point. But he was there, and you best believe he was listening. 'And then I can kinda relax in the second entrance, but still I got very embarrassed the other day cause I could only get five or six before getting dizzy…' she seemed to suddenly realise he was there. She covered her mouth with her hand, almost self conscious she might have said too much.

'What is a fuetté….' asked Simon.

She smiled, she giggled. 'Sorry… it's a turn on pointe, you turn and then you open your leg to spin again, and again…'

'16 times?'

'16 times, yes.'

'Sounds like a lot. Can't you do less?'

Her smile grew bigger, she felt giddy talking about her dance routine with him. 'That's the choreography…' He nodded. 'Are you getting deployed to Serbia?' She asked, her tone soft, he almost didn't ear her over the music and the noise of chatter in the bar. He shook his head. He explained they had soldiers there already and him and his task force were getting ready for another mission, they were going to get briefed the day after. 'Maybe they'll call you for this one as well… help us out.'

'You finally admit I was helpful then', her pure, proud, cheeky expression made him smile a bit.

'I never said you didn't help us numerous times.'

'What's the mission?' She asked. He said he didn't know yet. They heard a whistle coming from the table where their colleagues were sitting. It was Kyle urging them to go sit with them.

'I made it pretty obvious I left them there to come talk to you…'

He felt like the people around them disappeared, the noise, the smell of booze. She sat beside him or rather in front of him, her heels propped up on the stool, her lacy dress flowing, she looked like a lily, the flower. It could not be real, he couldn't even remember the last time he felt like that, drawn to someone, wanting to get close, touch her arm, feel her skin against his own. And be touched, and be hugged by her, he wanted her attention, he wanted her to look at him, acknowledge him at all times, he was special to her and he deserved her special treatment. He got chosen, over all the others, she just said it, there it was on paper. He didn't imagine it. 'You wanted to talk to me?' He asked, a breath. She leaned into the counter, she heard him cause she was closer. She nodded. 'Why?' He asked.

She smiled. Without putting on a show, she let her hand travel on the counter, until the tip or her pointy acrylic nail poked his finger, wrapped around the beer glass. 'Is it so strange that I want to?' It's not? Did she see past it? The mask, his appearance, the scars, the trauma, his attitude? Or was he never really Ghost when he was around her? Of course he was, she was just so strong and clever to just… see Simon as well. 'I'm not really…', he tried. He didn't push away her hand, his fingers slowly intertwining with hers. Her hands were cold.

'I don't really do this? I don't know when was the last time I actually… you know…', he didn't need to finish, she nodded. She didn't look pitiful. 'Do you want me to tell you why?' She murmured. He didn't really think she had a reason. When he nodded, she started to speak. She looked down at their hands, her fingers brushing his, not really holding his hand, rather exploring the patterns in his skin, tracing them with her nails. 'I think you're kind. You've always been nice to me, considerate. I can tell you care. You know, after last year and Arash and all…' she stopped to take a deep breath, '...it felt nice to have you.' He felt faint. She wasn't done. 'At Christmas and New Years…I think we're different and there are many things you experienced I can't comprehend and stuff about me that you wouldn't get, but… I don't know, I like spending time with you. And speaking to you.' She looked at him with the end of the sentence. His mouth was dry, he felt a strange ringing in his ear. He debated getting out of there, it all sounded absurd, it sure didn't apply to him. She spoke again. 'Was it too much?' She asked.

He was quick to shake his head, but words were just not coming out of his mouth. She let go of his hand, taking a sip and finishing her half pint. He imitated her. 'I guess…', he began, terrified waiting too long to reply would make her think he didn't somehow feel the same. 'I don't know, would you want to… I…' he stuttered and stopped, like he was checking his surroundings, like he was bracing for impact, '…would you like to go out maybe, to eat…' She had this adorable upside down smile on her face, her eyes glistening. 'Yes, sure.' She said.

He stared at her for a few more seconds, to ensure she wasn't gonna spontaneously combust after saying yes to that date. A date. She looked even more heavenly now, like he saw her under a different light. A date. He heard Gaz's voice behind him, probably coming towards the bar to ruin the moment. There were two women dancing to the music and laughing loudly. He heard the noise fo glass shattering on the floor, as someone dropped his drink. He watched her fix a strand of hair behind her ear, he thought he didn't really care at this point. She was his date.

'Want another beer?'

notes: so so late at night for my standards, apologies if you see any mistakes!! happy chapter, I feel full of love after writing this, too bad I'm gonna start writing the last chapter soon... as I promised hell, hell I will deliver. I feel like now is a good time to announce the follow up series to professional help, THE NIGHT OF THE TARANTULA, which will be posted in the next few months, featuring alba, simon and many others!! can you guess what I will be about?

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[fight-nights-at-freddys]

replying to this post bc it was filled with so much stupid stuff that i just. have to debunk it! links to the articles below!

TL;DR: these links are mostly just sensationalized media, top 10 lists, or opinion pieces, and antis are dumb <3 sorry for the LONGGGG post, i just couldn't help myself

I would like to preface, though, that just because these people were deeply mentally disturbed, does not mean that every mentally ill/schizophrenic/psychopath/sociopath/whatever is a murderer, or even a bad person. In a lot of these cases, the system/their parents/their friends failed these people, and it sucks.

Teen Kills Brother, Loves TV Show 'Dexter': Life Imitating Art?

For context, Anthony Conley, 17, killed his 10 yr old brother Conner. He was sentenced to life in prison, without parole.

If you look into the case itself (or even just READ THE ARTICLE ABOVE), Conley had said to the police that he'd been fantasizing about killing people since eighth grade, and that he heard voices. Three experts examined him and said he was *severely* mentally ill, and a fourth who didn't interview him believe he showed signs of being a psychopath. This is a clear-cut case of someone who was not mentally stable having access to material that furthered those thoughts, but Dexter did not cause his actions.

"The Dexter Killer:" Inside the mind of a murderer

Context - Mark Twitchell, an aspiring filmmaker, catfished a man, directing him to his garage that he had decked out with plastic coverings a la Dexter, and killed him. He later attempted to do this to another man, but that one escaped. He was sentenced to life in prison, with possibility of parole after 25 years.

Twitchell himself would describe himself as a psychopath. He cheated on his wife, would cheat people for money, was a pathological liar, and said he had a lack of empathy. He'd also written a screenplay for a film he intended to make, in the hopes it would "prevent him from killing". He also said himself that Dexter did not CAUSE the killing, but I can't deny he might've gotten some ideas from the show (the catfishing, the plastic tarps). Still not the fault of Dexter, though, as Twitchell clearly had some issues prior to watching the show.

Korean true crime fan murdered stranger 'out of curiosity'

Context - Jung Yoo-jung, obsessed with true crime, used an app to meet an English-language teacher, and stabbed her to death. She was sentenced to life.

Jung, like the other two, was mentally ill. She was also a loner, a recluse, was unemployed, and lived with her grandpa. She scored high on psychopathy tests, claimed she had hallucinations, and claimed that she had a host of other mental health issues. She'd been researching true crime for months, and spent more months seeking out a victim, contacting over 50 people -mostly women- and decided to kill because of her "morbid curiosity". There's also the alleged "feeling of resentment and anger toward her family", and the fact that the woman she killed was stabbed 100+ times indicates it was more personal for her. "It seems that the background of the accused may have influenced the formation of an abnormal personality," the court said.

Fiction is Reality, As Far As Your Brain is Concerned (You have to make an account to view this one.)

This is nothing. This is an opinion piece from someone who is just a journalist. Honestly, I could make a whole post talking about how biased and just. plain wrong it is. I might.

It starts with the conclusion that the way we differentiate reality from fiction is based on how well it connect with our existing experience, which is true to a degree, but the study they cite does not use that fact in the same way the article does.

The study very clearly defines that (as young as) 5 year olds have no problem differentiating fiction from reality, just that Santa, or the tooth fairy, for example, are more "real" than dragons and the like because they have more experience from seeing them (mall Santas, or money under their pillow), than they do a dragon, which has only been seen on TV or books.

The article, however, takes this to mean that the brain has the ability to rewire itself, or misremember, to convince itself that Santa actually exists. It uses the example that "Frodo is more real than Kim Jong-Un" because we may have more "personal connection" to Frodo, than we do Kim Jong-Un, due to us having seen the movies, or reading the books, and making a connection to the character, but that is totally contradicted in the study above ("Our conceptual knowledge in relation to real people is far more extensive and multifaceted compared to that of fictional entities. For instance, the kind of associations most people have for a fictional character such as Cinderella (evil stepfamily, glass slipper, fairy godmother, the handsome prince, midnight, etc.) are limited to the context of the story in which we learnt about her. In comparison, our associations about a real famous entity such as George Bush is far more wide-ranging (his appearance, his position in the social hierarchy, my personal feelings towards him, my knowledge regarding the feelings of others towards him, his politics, his team, his family, the degree of influence he has on my life, the last time I saw him on TV, etc.).")

This is just a taste of how wrong the article gets it, because the entire thing is hinged upon their incorrect reading of the study that was done. In conclusion, bad article.

Movies That Inspired Real-Life Crimes That Shook The World

This is a list, so I'm gonna go over this quickly.

Leonard Lake was not inspired by The Collector. As a child, long before he read the book, he developed a fascination with pornography, photographed his sister nude (which his grandmother encouraged), allegedly killed mice and dissolved them in chemicals, and was later discharged from the Marines due to mental issues.

I can't find the specific cases this one's linked to (1971-1973, so it's old), but I will say that copycat crimes are usually done by people with prior records or severe mental problems.

Patricia Frazier had previous mental health issues, had been institutionalized four years prior to the murder, was later found incompetent to stand trial, diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and was found not guilty by reason of insanity. Again, mental health is the problem here, not The Exorcist.

Mark Branch had been under psychiatric care for several years, with one report saying he'd sought treatment at a psychiatric hospital. He also killed himself after the murder. Did Friday the 13th give him some ideas? Yeah, probably. Was that the movie's fault, and should he have been watching it? No.

Richard Boyer was under the influence of PCP, weed, and alcohol while watching the movie, and on the day of the murder, he ingested PCP, cocaine, and alcohol. I feel it pretty safe to say Halloween II was not the only cause of the murders, and the jury agrees with me. Jake Evans had been planning on killing his mom and sister for a while, saying "I guess this is really selfish to say but, to me, I felt like they were just suffocating me in a way." He said himself that he didn't want anyone thinking Halloween influenced him, either. So I highly doubt it was the movie that caused it.

Daniel Gonzalez was known as a "dark and troubled boy" in school. He had psychological problems, and from the age of 17 he'd received both inpatient and outpatient care, suffered with schizophrenia, and used drugs. He just liked the movie Nightmare on Elm Street, and wore a hockey mask like Jason Vorhees, but that's the only connection there was to those movies. Ultimately, the problem lies on the NHS for not helping him.

Martin Bryant had mental health issues. He killed and tortured animals as a child, would shoot birds for fun, and later set himself on fire. He was assessed and found to be possibly Schizophrenic, with a fascination with fire. He also had a low IQ, and was at a lower intellectual functioning capacity than his peers. He was known to be violent in school, was a nuisance to people around him, firing air rifles at tourists and spitting at visitors. No connection to Child's Play other than he liked quoting the movie sometimes. There's no proof to suggest Jon Venables and Robert Thompson had even watched Child's Play, that is just a theory, and a poor one at that.

Nathaniel White was previously in jail for robbery, then after murdering a 29 year old woman, he was arrested again for abducting a 16 year old girl at knifepoint, and was accused of child abuse by social services about a month before the last 5 slayings. He also enjoyed the attention he got from the press, so chances are he wanted something to make him "stand out", and make a name for himself, so he became "the RoboCop 2 killer".

Sarah Edmondson and Benjamin Darras were not only copycat killers, and known by the cops, AND did drugs, but they were on LSD and watched the movie repeatedly before their murder spree to hype themselves up. They did it for the attention, not because Natural Born Killers told them to. Don't even get me started on Columbine and how NBK had really nothing to do with what was wrong with those boys.

Brian Draper and Torey Adamcik may have said they were inspired by Scream, but it's much more likely they were inspired by Columbine, considering they said they wanted to "outdo" Eric and Dylan, as well as referencing them in their tapes. Again, they wanted fame (and pleasure, with Adamcik saying he was "horny just thinking about it"), which is why they recorded it. They wanted the attention. Not much to do with Scream at all.

With The Matrix, it seems to just be a bunch of people who have a very loose grip on reality to begin with, and that movie just made them lose it further. It was not the cause.

Same thing, different guy. Matthew Tinling was a drug user, and clearly not in his right mind, because he later attacked 2 other people while in prison.

This one's just stupid. Fight clubs didn't come from the movie, it's a gambling thing. Literally not even connected to the movie.

Kim de Gelder said he had nothing to do with the Joker, had depressions as a teenager, and claimed to hear voices in his head. Police investigators and De Gelder's lawyer both have said The Dark Knight was not a motive to his attacks.

The first thing referenced was just a hoax, and a bunch of people getting scared about it, and the second one, Johnathan Cruz, has a record. Robbery, attempted robbery, criminal confinement, kidnapping, intimidation, battery, assault, just to name a few, and was allegedly associated with a gang. The Purge has very little to do with the actual crimes.

Real Life crimes inspired by films and TV shows...

Here we go again...

This is the only one I can find with no criminal or psychiatric history to explain his behaviour. But if I would have to guess.. Copycat killer, attention seeker. Still not the movie's fault it happened, because plenty of other people have watched Scream and haven't killed people!

Not much I can find about this except for his sentence, but again, he might've gotten some ideas from Fight Club, but normal people don't commit arson and bomb buildings just because they watch a movie.

Not much to say about this other than two kids made a prank call and it went bad. Not much to do with Saw, other than them mentioning toxic gas.

Can't find anything about this one, but maybe teach your kid that biting other kids is bad? I don't see how that's the fault of Twilight.

14 year old with unsupervised access to the internet becomes obsessed with serial killers, and has access to weapons. Definitely American Psycho's fault, and not his parents'.

James Holmes' murders had nothing to do with The Dark Knight, other than the fact that he committed his acts during that movie in a theater, and that he maybe sorta liked Batman, but the attorney who prosecuted him said there was no evidence to suggest he was obsessed with Batman, and the psychiatrist that interviewed Holmes said he just picked that movie because it was guaranteed to be full.

Top 10 Real-Life Crimes Inspired By Movies And TV

This one's more of the same.

The Hi-Fi murders were gonna be done either way, they were just looking for a way to do it quietly and cleanly, and they just so happened to settle on the Drano thing from Magnum Force. It was always going to happen, regardless of method. John Hinckley Jr. was obsessed with Jodie Foster, not Taxi Driver, was found not guilty by reason of insanity, and was institutionalized for over three decades. He was not right in the head to begin with.

Japanese man charged with sexual assault used 'radiation inspector' ploy

Can't find much about this, but again, I'd bet a year's wages he'd have still molested those girls, even without that plot from a manga he read. That was just the vehicle he used to commit the crime, but the crime was gonna happen regardless.

Also. It says he carried out as many as 20 similar attacks in the three years before his arrest. If I'm reading this correctly, the radioactivity thing was new, something he'd only recently seen in a manga and used to hurt these girls, and the other 20 attacks were not associated with that manga. If that's the case, then I'm right.

How a birth mark on his leg helped catch this terrifying serial sex attacker

He'd been thinking about this stuff from a very young age, with his awakening being seeing Princess Leia in chains. That is the only connection to fiction with this guy. He's a rapist, why are we trying to give him excuses?

IN CONCLUSION. That anti's post was bad. Like, really bad. Filled with major news sites that like to sensationalize everything, top 10 lists that don't actually do any sort of research into what they're talking about, and an article by someone who can't read a study past the abstract, and my only assumption is that that anti can't read, either.