#the fact that people are in such a bad place they would put themselves through something so drastic

[phantasmanatic]

mother started watching that gods forsaken squid games reality show in the living room and now i am stuck in my room until she finishes it

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, fuck.”

The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.

“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”

“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”

“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.

They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.

“You still okay?”

“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”

She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”

“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”

“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”

“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”

“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”

“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”

“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”

“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”

“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”

“Wha — you do so!”

She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.

“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”

“And you deserved it,” she says primly.

He gapes. “I did not!”

“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”

She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!

“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.

Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”

“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”

“Literally no.”

Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”

Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.

“Hey, Will.”

He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.

“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”

Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”

He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.

She shrugs.

“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”

Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.

The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.

But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.

With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.

“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.

“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.

Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”

“You said.”

“It’s just busy, is all.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”

“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”

“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”

Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.

“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”

Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”

“Shoot.”

Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.

Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”

Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.

Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.

“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”

Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —

“Nico!”

The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.

Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.

“Nico! Hi!”

“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.

“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”

Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”

Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.

“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.

“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”

Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”

“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.

“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”

A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.

“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”

Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”

“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”

A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”

“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”

“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”

“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.

On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.

Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.

“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”

“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”

Will’s face is a similar shade.

“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”

Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.

“That better?” he asks softly.

Nico swallows. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”

“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.

Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”

With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.

“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”

“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”

“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.

Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.

“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”

Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.

“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”

Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”

Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.

“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”

“Your face!” Percy shrieks.

“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”

Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”

“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”

Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”

“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”

“Hey, I earned that.”

Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.

“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.

Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”

[rboooks]

DC x DP Fic idea: The Bakery is a Front!...right?

Danny Fenton starts his own business in Gotham. He knows that moving to Gotham is dangerous in a way, but it is the only other place with enough natural ectoplasm that can sustain him.

He wanted to move away from Amity Park to start on a clean slate. His parents now knew the truth, and to show their support, they were turning their research into a more sociological base instead of biological- I.E. ripped ghosts apart. Jaz got accepted into her dream college- Oxbridge. She moved overseas and is doing well in her advanced physiological courses. They told their parents of Dani, who promptly adopted her and signed her up for a traveling club under the condition she returned home for school.

The ghosts stopped challenging him after he explained Amity was his haunt and that it was bad manners to spar inside a haunt. He is open game in the ghost zone, but Danny got to choose when to go in there- his obsession requires him to defend something, so defending weaker ghosts in the Zone was a good option.

Danny always wanted to be an astronaut, but his teenage vigilante lifestyle ruined his chances- it isn't even his grades. It's a fact Danny's heart is so slow due to his ghost side it is mistaken as a heart condition. No space program would ever send him up with that. Danny decided that he would instead go with his second joy- baking. He opened Phantom Bakes in his second week in Gotham using funds from his Ghost King vault.

He served everyone and asked no questions. He was mostly sure half of his customers were gang members, but he didn't start anything and didn't allow any fights in his bakery. He became a sort of haven for everyone. He even began preparing packs for people experiencing homelessness, and bought the building next door to put some heating systems for anyone to sleep In during the winter.

Despite his obsession with protection, his human side made it possible for him to ignore it. He decided that his teenage years were spent too much giving in to his obsession and that in his twenties, he would retire. He did nothing while the various Bats threw themselves into battle, he turned a blind eye to petty crimes and basically tried not to bring any attention to himself.

He managed about six months until he accidentally walked through a cloud of fear gas while texting Sam and Tucker. His friends were tying the knot- the fact they all were best friends and exes was only slightly strange- and he was so focused on helping them plan the wedding as their Best Man he didn't hear the gasps, and horrified yells until he ran into Scarecrow.

He apologized for not looking where he was going and got a needle shoved unto his arm as a response. Danny's reflex to that was to punch the man a foot away from him.

The Bats quickly locked up the villain, and Danny decided he needed to be gone as fast as possible. He tried to return to his everyday life, but the next day, some of Scarecrow's goons showed up at his bakery asking him for work....so he hired them and taught them to make pastries. Then those goons brought over some friends who needed work but were recovering addicts and couldn't find employment.

He added coffee to his menu and threw them into that. Then some street kids asked if he would buy some stuff from them. Danny told them that he wasn't interested in car parts, but he was interested in furniture for the building next door. He had kids bringing in broken bookshelves, bed frames, and much more, paying them far more than the shady garages would.

Then some shady groups of men kept coming to his bakery asking for money for protection but Danny can protect himself just fine and proved it every single time a group made trouble.

He started having the streey kids make deliveries hoping to get them out of life of crime.

He made natural ectoplasm which, after much testing and research done by his parents, proved to clean out dangerous substances from the body. He made unique pastries that could help overcome addiction and heal withdraw.

He saw the light slowly return to the eyes of a drug-ridden community, and it brought him so much joy he barely charged for them.

Unknown to Danny, he has set himself as a up and coming villain. Rumors of his Fear Gas immunity attracted the attention of the Joker- who was found with all limbs broken, beaten black and blue after the clown tried to take a swing at Danny's employees. The baker had taken his broken body back to Arkharm, dragging the bleeding man through the streets uncaring of the line of red he left or the various people recording him in awed fear.

The rest of Gotham waited to see his true colors as he carefully built a front and gathered people. Some want to take him out as soon as possible.

Red Hood, most of all, after he heard that Danny had kids run special deliveries to know addicts. The only reason he hadn't blown his brains out was because Danny hadn't set himself up in crime alley.

The Bats had even talked him into joining an undercover mission to learn more about Danny. They didn't know what drugs he was moving or if he had a hand in other crimes, and needed more information that Oracle was unable to find.

She couldn't pull anything on Danny, driving her insane. (Techus erased Danny from the internet as a prank once and forgot to undo it.)

That led to Jason and Tim entering Phantom Bakes, acting like street kids who ran away from a homophobic father looking for a job.

Danny had them decorate cupcakes within the hour, letting them know he didn't expect them to crunch out masterpieces. They knew it would be a while to see Danny's real business so they bite thier tongues and got to work.

Tim just hopes they finish this mission before Jason snaps and shoots their main suspect....or before Danny romances the entire of Gotham because, goddammit, he has as much game as Brucie pretends to have. It's getting frustrating to see so many people throwing themselves at him, only for Danny to pretend not to notice. His good looks, charming personality, and carefully manipulated cover, drag good people into his schemes. He didn't want another Harley Quinn.

(He will ignore that his heart skips a beat whenever Danny gets too close. Thank you very much. It's just a crush; people get those all the time.)

(Part 2) (Part 3)

[barcaatthemoon]

can't get you out of my head || leah williamson x reader ||

leah has a crush on you, the new signing for arsenal.

leah felt like she was losing her mind. every single time that she turned around, you were there. at work, that wasn't much of a surprise. leah knew your work ethic, and that you'd spend extra time in the training facility after everyone else had left. what had come as a surprise, however, was the fact you had gotten an apartment in her building complex.

that wasn't your fault, leah had overheard you talking to kim about the apartment they set you up in. you had been married when talks of moving to arsenal started, so they got you a bigger place. by the time that the contracts were signed and finished, you had begun your divorce proceedings. you had been absolutely devastated that your wife didn't want to come with you to england, but you didn't let it stop you.

unfortunately for leah, once she had heard about your split, her brain decided it could go all in with her crush on you. she had known you for years, the two of you having played in the same age groups for england since both of your first call ups. she could still remember the way she had felt almost heartbroken whenever you announced your engagement to one of the french players you had met during your first season at lyon with lucy.

"morning skip," you greeted leah in the elevator. your apartment was a floor or two above hers, so you were always one of the first people leah saw in the mornings. she didn't mind that, although she would have preferred it if you were waking up in her bed.

"morning (y/n)," leah mumbled, not completely awake yet. the two of you had been called in for a media video, some game that they wanted the two of you specifically to play. you understood why, both of your careers had similar trajectories, just in different countries. you were an english player, but you had become a staple of french club football before you made the jump back to your home country.

the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, which leah was grateful for. she wasn't sure whether or not she could keep her thoughts in order around you this early. it wasn't fair how put together you seemed at all times. leah felt like she was struggling to look and act like a person, and here you were, doing it all so effortlessly.

there were a few more players there for the video, which would showcase the various ways you did a few different drills and training games. you and leah were immediately put on a team together. on the pitch, leah was able to think a bit clearer, and the two of you flew through your games. a few of them were close, but you still managed to keep the lead.

"alright, a few words with our winners," katie said, absolutely loving her role as host. "couldn't have come back a few years ago with those skills, eh?"

"hey, i came when my country called," you joked. "everything happens in its own time."

"it's too early for wisdom. is she always like this leah?" katie asked. leah nodded, a small smile on her face.

"oh yeah, sometimes i think she and bronzey used to just speak to hear themselves," leah teased. you pushed her a bit, but was there to catch her when she nearly just toppled over. katie asked a few more questions, and leah found herself rambling a little whenever she got to talk about you.

"careful, you keep talking about me like that and i might just fall for you," you joked. leah, however, didn't take it as such. she just sort of stopped walking, and it wasn't until you turned around that leah started moving again. "you okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine," leah said clearly. her next words were mumbled barely above a whisper, but you caught them anyways, "fuck, i am so attracted to you right now."

…

leah had to get away from you. you were driving her absolutely up the wall. it wasn't like you were even doing any of it on purpose, and the worst part was that leah knew that. she knew that it was all in her head. leah was just down bad for you with no signs of getting over it.

you had made a few changes to your look since arriving and getting comfortable at arsenal. the training program had added a few pounds of muscle to your physique, and leah would have been a liar if she didn't wonder sometimes how it would have felt to be tossed around by you. on top of that, you had gone out with some of the girls for a holiday and come back with a couple of piercings. the icing on the cake however, was the tattoo.

leah had seen it purely on accident. she was making her way onto the dance floor to let you know some of them were heading home. your back was turned to her, but leah knew that it was sitll you. she couldn't tell you what the song playing was, but she'd never forget the bed of flowers that was so intricately drawn along the small of your back. there was something trailing up, but leah didn't have time to catch all of it before you turned around.

"hey, everything okay?" you asked as you stumbled off of the dance floor.

"y-yeah," leah stammered. it wasn't like her to do that, so you led her over towards a table to sit. "some of the girls are leaving, just wanted you to know so you didn't panic later. you can go back to dancing if you want, i'm good for another pitcher or two."

"like hell you are, not here. come on, we can keep drinking at my place. i want you somewhat sober for the stairs," you told her. leah thought it was funny how protective and stern you got with her. she'd do absolutely anything for you, even without that tone of voice. leah shook her head as her thoughts started to run rampant. it was always like that whenever she started thinking about you.

"alright then, off we go," leah said as she shot up from the chair. the bar wasn't too far from your apartment complex, but the walk still took it out of you. you had spent all night walking and dancing around in your heels, and all you wanted was to take them off. you thought you were being subtle with your grimaces, but when leah picked you up, you realized that you weren't.

"ah! what are you doing?" you couldn't help the undignified squeal that had left your lips. leah just laughed at it as she tried to reposition you in her arms.

"carrying you. i can set you down and you can ride on my back if you want. should have called a cab, didn't think about your shoes," leah mumbled. you let her set you down before hopping onto her back. it was nice to rest your head against leah's shoulder as she carried you the last two blocks back home. you had almost fallen asleep when leah dropped you in the elevator.

"aren't you gonna come up? i thought you were good for another couple pints," you teased. leah's finger hovered over her apartment floor before moving up to yours. you smiled as you leaned in and wrapped an arm around leah's shoulders. outside of the club, it was obvious that you were far more drunk than leah originally thought.

"i am, but no more for you missy. you're going straight to bed," leah told you. she was using her captain voice. normally, you would have reacted like you did in practice, but instead, leah could see the way it darkened your eyes a bit. she quickly tries to turn away, but your arm around her shoulders keeps her from getting too far.

you manage to get yourself dressed by yourself, and even bring leah out some comfortable clothes to wear as well. it feels like you're waiting forever to watch her walk out in a pair of your sweatpants and a tank top. all of it is a bit baggy on her, but the sight of her in your clothes makes your heart skip a beat.

"why are you looking at me like that?" leah asked as she leaned down in front of you. it's definitely the alcohol that pushes you to do it. you never would have just leaned up and kissed her otherwise, despite the fact that you had been thinking about it since you were at your first england camp with leah. "(y/n)…"

"is it someone else?" you asked, immediately feeling rejected. you want to crawl away and cry, but you know that it's nothing a few more shots won't fix.

"no, not at all. i want this too, i mean it's pathetic sometimes. i can't think straight around you. tonight isn't the right time, not when you're drunk. if you still want me in the morning, let me know. i'll be right here on your couch," leah promised. you smiled at the sweetness of her words. you made some room for her to sit with you, knowing that you wouldn't make it back to your bed. you wanted a good cuddle, and if leah was staying on your couch, you'd stay with her.

leah didn't move a muscle as you passed out barely ten minutes later. she finished her beer and pulled a blanket over the both of you. it wasn't comfortable by any means, but leah couldn't remember when she had slept so soundly before. a part of her was nervous about you waking up and kicking her out, but that was immediately quelled when you woke up with the sun that morning only to pull leah into your bedroom with you just so you could continue to hold her tight.

[luxaofhesperides]

Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 

���Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[ghostboneswrites2]

Crush

This one is for the sensitive girlies with emotional regulation issues that find themselves hopelessly attracted to emotionally unavailable men. (Aka me) Idk how I feel about it tbh. We’ll see.

Summary: While on a Rick-ordered fishing trip with Daryl, things are tense and uncomfortable. Emotions run high, things are said. (Prison Era)

Warnings: fem!reader / age gap (reader is in her early-mid 20s) / swearing / dramatic and angsty / mean!Daryl

Masterlist // Taglist

Seductive Summer - D.D. Fic Challenge

Dividers by sister-lucifer

A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you licked your lips, mouth dry from the hot sun. You blinked, eyes fixated on rough hands and bulging muscles as the thin fabric of a black button-up struggled to contain their mass. He moved with precision, callouses delicately threading the line through the pretentiously small hole of the fishing hook.

“Ya gonna help or sit there lickin’ your lips like a bitch in heat?” Daryl finally snapped, growing tired of the sensation of lustful eyes boring into him. In a feeble attempt to mask your shame, you rolled your eyes and huffed, annoyedly picking up a hook to thread your own line through.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence. If anything, it was the norm. Daryl, the handsome but brooding archer, simply trying to complete whatever tasks had been delegated to him on any given day, while the young twenty-something years old Y/N gawks at his physique. It got under his skin, to say the least. He was a man of responsibility, and he found his inner workings far too complex for some little girl with a childish crush to ever understand.

He’d allow it for some time — the stares, the gnawing of your lips, the way you tended to linger around wherever he went — and then the flattery would wear off quickly, and he’d be sure to make it known. It wasn’t like it was a secret that you adored him. He knew it, you knew it, everyone did. You could barely keep your eyes off him from the moment you met him.

Still, despite the judgmental onlookers and his not-so-subtle lack of fondness for you, you just couldn’t help your thirst. To put it simply, you were down bad.

When Daryl had finished his half of the lines he moved on to fashioning small fish traps to place in the stream. He noticed you seemed lost in thought, attention set on the task at hand for once, instead of his big arms and broad chest, or the way his sweat always perfectly follows the framework of his—

“Ya draggin’ your ass on purpose?” He asked, breaking you free from your thoughts.

“I’ll finish when I finish.” You fired back.

That was another thing that irked him to his core. You were so childish. Any hint of criticism or expression of his discomfort always resulted in you sulking or catching an attitude. He didn’t have time to coddle your feelings.

He shrugged you off and focused on nestling the first trap strategically between some stones. As he worked his way down to the last trap, he wondered to himself why Rick always sent you out to fish with him. As previously mentioned, everyone knew how you felt about Daryl, including Rick. Most people also knew that the feeling was not mutual, and in fact, there might have even been some resentment on Daryl’s end.

Truth be told, Daryl didn’t exactly know why it was such an issue. Aside from your youth, which he felt he did not share, you were fairly pleasant in the beginning. Your sweet grin and generous nature weren’t exactly unwelcome at first. It wasn’t until your efforts became too blatant that he felt himself physically recoil at the sound of your voice. As soon as he noticed that people were catching on, watching in awe every time you’d approach him with some fresh water or a snack, a flip switched in his mind. You were no longer a lovely addition to his daily proceedings, but a nuisance to his inner peace.

That was when you changed, too. You noticed the contrast in behavior immediately. It was a talent of yours — or maybe a curse — to be so perceptive. You’d been that way your whole life. Always walking on eggshells, analyzing every word spoken or facial expression made.

When Daryl’s friendliness transformed into indifference, you found yourself trying harder and harder, only to feel more and more disappointment with each failed attempt at gaining his affections. You frequently scolded yourself for the pathetic behavior, which was what you were doing while you slowly threaded fishing lines through the hooks. Any woman with respect for herself would have abandoned ship at the first signs of angry seas, but you were the kind of captain that preferred to drown with her vessel.

Soon enough you’d finished with your hooks and Daryl had placed the last trap. With haste, you both worked to tie worms to the hooks and cast the lines, hoping by this time tomorrow to be returning to camp with a fish dinner. The stream was half a days hike east of the prison, so usually teams of two would take a two or three day ‘vacation’, as Glenn and Maggie would call it, and bring back as much fish as they could.

Once all eight lines were cast, you planted your makeshift rods in the dirt and got to work building a campfire while Daryl hurried to try and get a few squirrels to eat. At least, that was his excuse. In reality, Carol had packed enough food for the both of you. He just wanted to get away.

By nightfall, he was back, cleaning a raccoon and preparing it for the fire. You already had the tent pitched and water boiling to drink, so you were just relaxing with you feet in the cold creek.

Daryl was nice enough to let you know when the raccoon was ready, so you ate at the fire with him in silence.

“I’ll take watch tonight.” Daryl announced as he shoveled the last piece of meat into his mouth.

“You take watch every time.” You pointed out. It was true, he always kept watch on fishing trips.

“What, ya wanna stay up all night? Be my guest.” He retorted.

“I’m not saying that, I’m just saying you don’t have to stay up every time.” You droned.

“Well it ain’t like ya ever volunteer.” He scoffed.

“Because you always do it first.”

“Yeah, ‘cause ya never speak up the whole day we’re workin’.” He argued.

“Okay well I’m volunteering now.”

“Well, forget it, ‘cause I already said I’d do it.”

“Fine.” You shrugged.

With a huff, you pushed yourself off the ground, swiping dry leaves from your jeans as you marched over to the tent to retrieve a sleeping bag for Daryl. You dropped it on the ground beside him. It landed with a soft thud.

“The hell’s that for?” He asked.

“Use it or don’t. I don’t care. Carol packed it for you.” You said bitterly.

You retired to the tent after that, working on taking your gun apart and putting it back together for practice. When you grew tired of that, you dug in your bag for a cigarette and stealthily unzipped your tent, scanning the coast for any signs of Daryl and his deep scowl that he seemingly reserved for you only. The fire had died down to smoky ember, but you could just barely make out the stillness in the dark. Nothing was moving, which meant Daryl had probably stalked off somewhere, and you could be alone.

You never really liked being alone, but at least you were free to be yourself, unperceived by others.

You found yourself a nice stump to sit on before you lit the cigarette, savoring the first drag before slowly exhaling.

“That best not be one of mine.” A husky voice startled you from the dark. Your attention snapped toward the trees as his looming figure emerged from the shadows. You rolled your eyes and turned away again.

“You mean the stale ones you lifted off a rotting body? No thanks.” You snarked.

“Whatever.” He tutted, twitching his neck to flip some hair out of his eyes. You could hear his footsteps fading away behind you as you tried to enjoy your smoke without his miserable aura around to cloud up the fresh air. To your surprise, he returned moments later with a cigarette of his own. He leaned back against a tree across from you, sliding down until his ass hit the ground. His face illuminated behind the flame as he flicked his zippo open. Subtly, you watched while the shadows danced across his chiseled features as he guided the tip of his cigarette into the flame with his lips.

With a metallic click, the lighter flipped shut and he was shrouded in darkness once more. Your eyes thoughtlessly followed the small red orb of his cherry as he pulled on his cigarette and dropped his hands back into his lap. He didn’t say anything, and it was a tad too dark to really be able to tell, but you knew he was watching you, just as you were watching him. The minutes ticked by as your cigarette faded to ash. Just as you leaned down to snuff the butt in the dirt, he cleared his throat.

“‘M gon’ tell Rick not to send ya out here with me no more.” He informed you.

“Why?” You asked defensively.

“‘Cause you’re too slow. I’ll get more done with someone else.” He explained.

“Like who?” You insisted.

“Like someone who ain’t so distracted.” He sighed with exasperation. He didn’t really even know why he told you that. He was considering telling Rick not to send you with him anymore, but he hadn’t really decided one way or another yet. He guessed he just had to cause tension to keep himself from staring at you too long.

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “That’s why.”

“Well, why the hell else would it be?” He snapped.

“You just don’t wanna be around me.” You mumbled.

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind it if you’d act like a fuckin’ adult!” He raised his voice now, and you regretted saying anything. He could sense you shrinking back from his harsh tone, which only angered him more. “All ya do is stare at me all fuckin’ day and pout like a schoolgirl when ya don’t get your way!”

Tears welled at the rim of your eyes, sniffling as you swallowed a lump in your throat. You hated being yelled at, being cornered, being made to feel like a vulnerable child. You hated that he could affect you that way.

Quickly, the pain and anxiety melted away. You began to feel angry. Enraged, even, at the fact that he could treat you so harshly. What had you done to deserve that? Why did he think it was okay to be so cruel?

A rush of adrenaline washed over you as you abruptly stood to your feet, trembling as your emotions overcame you.

“Excuse me for trying! For being kind! For putting up with your piss-poor attitude and still thinking the fucking world of you! All I do is try to treat you the way I wish someone would treat me! No matter how fucking awful you are to me!” You shouted, bitter and full of resentment.

“So why the hell do ya still try?!” He shouted back, pushing himself off the ground and towering over you. In the dark, your most visible feature was your big wet eyes glistening in the natural light of the moon. His eyes flickered between them, somewhat intimidating by how expressive they were. A man like him spent his whole life perfecting his mask, hiding his true feelings from the world, protecting them beneath the surface of his hardened shell.

“Because I love, Daryl!” You shrieked, voice coarse from strain. “I love. I have so much love to give and nowhere to fucking put it! And — and I see you and I see a man who’s never felt love and I—“ You paused to let out a sob and catch your breath. “Because for whatever reason, I saw you and decided you were the one that I needed to love and that doing so would make everything else make sense.”

Daryl seemed taken aback by your confession. He didn’t know how to process any of it, so he instead decided to push you away even more.

“I don’t need your fuckin’ love, alright?” He spat, emphasizing the word love as if the word disgusted him. “I don’t need it, and I don’t want it.”

His words stung as they approached you from gritted teeth. The blow was harsh enough o knock you down from your rage-high.

“Well…” You croaked, sniffling as you wiped remnants of fresh tears from your cheeks. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you found yourself at a loss of words. Maybe there was nothing else to say. “Glad we cleared things up, then.”

You spent the night silent in the tent, tears spinning down your flushed cheeks as you stared blankly at the worn fabric above you. Eventually you fell asleep, but you got little rest. Daryl gathered all the fish the next morning while you tore down the campsite. The hike back home was spent feet apart, both of you ensuring to keep your distance. Your stoic expressions didn’t go unnoticed upon returning to the prison, but luckily nobody pried. Carol, Maggie, and Beth cooked up the fish and some fresh garden veggies while you snuck off to shower and Daryl disappeared to wherever.

You skipped dinner, hiding away in your cell with a sheet hung up for privacy. You actually fell asleep fairly quick, exhausted from the vast range of emotions you experienced in such a short amount of time the night before.

Daryl, on the other hand, laid awake on his cot for a majority of the night. His mind’s eye repeated the events of the night prior, peppered with correlated instances from times passed. Carol had told him once that he was too hard on you, that you were just searching for anything that would make you feel good in such a rotten world. She was right, he knew that, and yet he could not bring himself to allow it.

He didn’t see how nobody else saw it the way he did. Would it not have been easier keep things simple? It made more sense to him for things to remain above the surface level, where emotions and deep connections could not harm either of you. To grow attached in this world was surely a fools game. So why did everyone seem so hell-bent on making friends and falling in love? Why were they willing to take the risk?

He was exhausted the next morning. By the time he fell asleep the sun was creeping over the horizon. You were a bit better off after a full night of sleep. Your eyes were less puffy than the day before, and your stomach was aching for a bite to eat. Daryl had no appetite or energy. He stayed in bed well past noon.

You didn’t see him until dinner that night, not that you were looking. For the first time in a while, you decided to allow yourself some peace.

Since you’d slept so well the night before, you offered to take over watch for Carol, which she accepted gratefully. You brought yourself a cigarette and one of the books from the library to entertain yourself. Just as you settled in and got comfortable in the tower, the hatch opened and Daryl emerged with his own items for amusement.

You didn’t say anything as he lifted himself up. You just watched him quizzically. He paused when he noticed you sitting there.

“I got watch tonight. Told Rick.” He informed you.

“I took over for Carol.” You countered blandly.

“Well you’re relived.” He pushed.

“No thanks.” You brushed him off.

“Ain’t askin’.” He said.

“I was here first.” You shrugged, lighting your cigarette and flipping to the first chapter of your book.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere so ya might as well get on.” He urged.

“I’m sure the fence could use some relief from the walkers.” You suggested.

“So why don’t ya go and take care of ‘em?” He retorted.

“Because I’m on watch.” You countered.

Daryl sighed in defeat.

“Got an extra one o’ those?” He asked, gesturing toward the cigarette.

“Only brought the one.” You replied.

“Look,” he began, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “‘M sorry I was an asshole, but it can’t be the way ya want it to be.”

“And what way did I want it?” You quirked a brow.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make shit hard. Ya always do that.”

“So then the simple solution would be to leave me alone. I get it. You don’t want me.”

“It ain’t about wantin’ you, girl!” He groaned in exasperation. “It’s about protectin’ you! Protectin’ me! Protectin’ everyone!”

His chest rose and fell as his fists clenched at his sides. You stared up at him and fawned under his blazing eyes.

“We can’t… I can’t.” He insisted.

Silence consumed you both in the night. The tension was so palpable that it drowned out the nightly buzz of crickets and frogs in the trees. Daryl felt he had said too much already. He should have just let you hate him and left it be. He couldn’t, though. As much as he wanted to be cold, hard, and arrogant, he was very much a soft soul with a longing for genuine connection.

With a deep sigh and an expression of defeat, he retreated back to his cell without another word to you.

To be continued… Maybe??

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy

[storieswithvenus]

Anna - Aaron Hotchner x Pregnant! Fem Reader

“I am not naming my daughter Samantha, Aaron,” you say as you are folding up a load of washing you had thrown on your shared bed, Aaron sits on the armchair which was located in the corner of the bedroom, a pair of glasses laid on his face as he flicked through a book of baby names.

Licking his index finger and flicking to the next page, he started listing multiple girl names; Olivia, Rachel, Emma, Heather, Sarah, and Lisa. None of the names stuck out to you, at one point you groaned at one of the names.

"I told you I wanted to name her Astoria," you frown and look over at him, " I don't understand why you don't want to pick that name, it's adorable." Aaron sighs and puts the book down onto his lap, taking off the pair of glasses and placing them on the smaller table beside him as he runs his fingers through his hair, combing it out.

"I didn't expect it to be this difficult when it came to naming girls if I'm being honest, but you and I aren't getting anywhere with this and by the time the baby arrives we will still be arguing about her name." his voice was soft but slightly stern, you both knew the baby girl would be here any day, so why count you settle on one perfect name?

Your pregnancy had been amazing so far, you were always being taken care of by Aaron and your beautiful step-son Jack. Anything you needed they came immediately to you and got it for you. Jack had even suggested a few names himself, however, they were only names of girls in TV shows he watched.

Getting up out of his chair, Aaron walked over to you and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist and his head pressed into the crease of your shoulder and neck. "I think it's time we let go and let Jack pick the name," he begins as you feel him leave butterfly kisses on your shoulder, "it'll make him feel part of the family if we let him get the final pick."

You knew he was right in what he was saying. Jack had been a rock in this world for the both of you, he always went out of his way to make sure you knew he loved you, even if you weren't his biological mother. Jack went from being a shy boy who couldn't even look at you the first time you met him to now, this confident and goofy little boy who went and bragged about his mum and dad's career, that they "fought bad people and kept the world safe".

Aaron lifts his head to look down at you, both of you silently agreeing to each other that now is the time you should ask Jack to pick the name. Aaron grabbed your hand and led you outside of your bedroom and down the stairs, your eyes eventually settling on Jack who was playing with his toy cars on the carpet in the living room.

"hey little man, we have something we need you to do okay?" you sit down beside him on the carpet as you pick up one of his toys to play with, running the wheels over the carpet. Jack looks at you then at Aaron, "Am I in trouble?" his soft and quiet voice makes it hard to hear what he said. "No no of course not bub, me and Daddy just need you to help us with something to do with your baby sister okay?" holding onto his hand as you watched his eyes glass up with tears.

Aaron sits down on the other side of him, "We want you to pick baby sister's name jack, will you do that for us?" his eyes light up and his head turns to Aaron before looking back at you to make sure you two were asking him to name his little sister. Aarons's smile covers his face, and joy fills his eyes as he watches his son get up and start dancing around the living room and squealing at the fact he gets to pick the name.

"Really Daddy? You want me to pick baby sister's name?" Jack asks his father as he stops dancing for a moment. "We want you to be a part of this decision buddy, we want you to name her, anything you want. You tell him as he turns to look at you.

"Anna, I want her to be called Anna like in Frozen."

[railingsofsorrow]

summary: in which a phone call ruined your day.

... or not, because your boyfriend made sure to be there for you until you were okay again. pairing: s. reid x gn!reader

w.c: 2.1K

warnings/content: reader is reckless and puts themselves in danger (one time); angst; mentions of shutting people out; an argument happens but the fluff comes right after; case-related violence; reader is going through something but it isn't explained; mentions of past bad habits; be aware of spelling errors.

A/N: my finals aren't over but I forced myself to take a break for the night. thus, I'm posting this hurt/comfort blurb. hope you like it.

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

would you like to enter my taglist?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“you're mad.”

the day started good. you even got breakfast at home, which is something it almost never works out. but a case only arrived at around nine, so you had time to eat something before leaving.

spencer made toast, crispy, just the way you liked it. you sipped on your orange juice as he took his coffee, hand resting above yours in the comfortable morning silence you liked to partake in.

the day started good.

until things went south really quick.

it all begun with a phone call. not a work call, you were pretty used to those and when hotch called you up to the briefing room, everybody was already filling out paperwork in the bureau.

your mood went sour in a matter of seconds. you think you were able to desguise it from most of the team, though. except for spencer and maybe emily, because emily noticed every eyelash that was out of place, she couldn't even help it.

the news you got caused you to retract back to old habits, shutting people out and drowning in work to avoid thinking about it. you were numb, doing everything on autopilot, but you didn't let it compromise your professionalism. never. that fucking phone call wouldn't make you a bad profiler for a second. you wouldn't let it.

being numb lead you to be impulsive. and you took advantage of that. you'd jump straight into action just to avoid dealing with your problems. just to forget.

“i'm not mad.”

your boyfriend's tone was clipped, short. almost cold, but it didn't got that far yet. it took a lot to make spencer reid mad. but when it happened, and you were the reason, you were always conflicted on whether to let him cool off for himself, give him space, or beg for forgiveness right after you screwed up.

this time, you decided on the former. you don't think it worked that well.

the unsub had a gun pointing at a seven year old child. he was cornered in every way possible. police cars were still arriving at the scene, although five FBI agents aimed at the man, ready to shoot in case he so much as twitched a finger on that trigger.

anxiety ran along the bystanders as they watched it all happen in their neighborhood. you hadn't plan that, in fact, all of you had planned something else entirely. the profile was solid as well as the location and the unsub's endgame.

but people are unpredictable. no matter how hard you've studied the human brain. in certain circumstances, they would be capable of anything. including threatening children's lives.

your boss advised everyone to stay back. that they had it covered. it was only a matter of talking him down, carefully and with confidence.

but the second you heard the sob of that seven-year-old boy, you stopped focusing on the command reaching your earpiece. bulletproof vest and gun set aside, you marched forward, no ounce of hesitation. you knew what you were doing.

“spencer.” you followed him into your bedroom, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you felt your legs wobble slightly. you were exhausted. the day was hell both physically and mentally and you just wanted to take a good shower and sleep for forty eight hours. you wanted to forget it ever happened. you wanted to forget that phone call.

he didn't spared you a glance as he grabbed a pair of clothes to get into the bathroom. there was it. that coldness you hated. it was finally here. “spencer, please. can we talk?” you begged. if there was one thing that suffocated you was sleeping while upset. and your boyfriend was an elite grudge holder. you just couldn't do that tonight.

“of course.” he leaned back from the door just before entering the bathroom. an impassive expression across his featured as he turned to you. you wanted to scream at him. “you've been avoiding me all day, but you want to talk now? of course.”

okay. you deserved that.

did you though? why couldn't he make your life a little easier?

“sorry I was rude to you,” you said, holding back the petty comment wanting to slip out of your tongue. sorry I'm going through something and you're being an idiot about it. “i didn't mean to. I shouldn't have treated you that way.”

spencer's tongue poked around his cheek and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. an argument. in the middle of the night — morning, it must have been past two am.

“i don't care that you were rude the entire day.” spencer clarified as if that would make things better. “i care that you threw yourself in front of a psychopath with a gun, without a bulletproof vest and only your hands to work as a shield.”

“you had my back.” you insisted, recalling the moment the whole team started to shout at both you and the unsub. they were behind you, you had good coverage. “someone needed to talk him down.”

he didn't seem to be on the verge of snapping anymore. his shoulders were slumped. he was tired too. he was exhausted. it has been a long day and you needed to rest. you needed to sleep. you needed to forget.

it had started as a good day.

“we were doing that.” spencer mumbled, softly. he eyed your bitten cuticules, the bandage in your arm and your far away gaze. spencer wasn't stupid. he noticed things. he noticed you. he knew something was wrong from the moment you excused yourself to take a phone call in the middle of the case briefing. you came back into the room a different person. contained. robotic. strictly professional. “why couldn't you wait?”

“it was a child. he was scared.” you snapped, flinching away from him. “he didn't have time to wait.”

spencer pressed his brows together, deciding to not mention the time you did have to do what you had to do. statistics wouldn't help now. “you could have gotten shot in the chest.”

“it barely grazed my arm.”

“that's not the point!”

“and what is?” you yelled back, turning to him, fuming. “there is no point. the boy was in danger. you decided to wait. I decided to act. he's alive. I'm barely hurt. the case is over.”

spencer faltered, seeking something in you that he wasn't able to find. his gaze travelled accross yours in a desperate attempt to make you realise how stupid that single sentence was. one mistake. one wrong move. and you could have been somewhere else instead of in your shared apartment.

a bodybag.

“who called you?” you blinked at him, taken aback by the question. you expected him to blame you further. you even expected him to ignore you for the rest of the night. you would not back down. “i know something happened. someone happened. you're not... you wouldn't do that if you were thinking.”

“so because I'm impulsive one time, you're questioning my judgement?”

“when your judgement makes me almost lose you, yes. I am.” he crossed his arms, licking his lips as he studied you. profiled you. you fucking hated him right now. you wanted to rip his brains out.

“there was an entire team aiming at the guy, spencer.” you scoffed, pressing a thumb against your forehead, a headache brewing. your will to argue has vanished. you just wanted to sleep.

“you were blocking our aim.”

“can you stop?”

“no.”

you no longer had control of your emotions as your sight begins to be blurred by tears. fuck, I can't do this.

the room became silent. as if hearing your inner turmoils, spencer paused. he thought it through, any possibility that might have caused your sudden mood change. your impulsiveness. he thought he had done something, but by your reaction it wasn't that. it wasn't him.

it all shifted after that phone call.

you didn't retract when he approached. you didn't reject his touch or pushed him away. but you remained frozen, locked up in your own cage.

“do you want to talk about it?”

it had started as a good day.

you stood up, brushing your strands behind your ears and swallowing up the feeling of something permanently lodged in your throat.

you didn't turn to watch his expression faltering in disappointment. you didn't had the guts to see it.

“no.” you said. “i'm fine. I'm going to take a shower. I'm tired.” you left to your shared bedroom without a goodnight, knowing it would be pointless since you'd be sleeping alone tonight.

sleeping was a strong word. you closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids so tight that you're seeing stars. tossing and turning for around one hour in an empty bed was enough to leave you upset. the weight of the day and the argument you had with your boyfriend taking a toll on you.

maybe you hadn't been fair to spencer. it's not like he did anything to force your sudden mood change; he had absolutely nothing to do with it, actually. he wasn't responsible for that phone call, he wasn't the person at the other line whose voice you didn't want to hear ever again. he was just the one at the receiving end of your irritability.

your boyfriend, he wasn't one to pry. to force you to speak of things that made you uncomfortable. things you weren't ready to discuss yet. he was the kind of person who would ask if everything was alright and he would make sure you knew you had a shoulder to cry on and a ear to vent if necessary.

spencer was caring and respectful. he knew you needed space just as he did at some moments. so much so that he wasn't sleeping on the couch because he was mad at you — though you had been rude for that to be case — but because being around him, or anyone for that matter, would only set you off.

his curled up frame on the couch, half covered by the blanket and half uncovered to the night air. curls splattered around the pillow he stole from your bedroom when you were still in the bathroom. you wanted to bury yourself into his arms and never leave him again. you wanted his warmth all over you.

standing on the entrance of the living room, you watched his eyelids move incessantly. it was what told you he wasn't in a deep sleep.

he was pretending to be sleeping and you knew he was aware of your watchful eyes.

“i'm sorry.”

you mumbled into the uncomfortable silence, scratching your arm beneath the bandage in nervousness. shifting into your feet, you contemplated approaching him, but remained in the spot.

he peaked at you as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. he moved to a sitting position, outstretching a hand in your direction. an invitation.

“c'me here.”

you didn't need to be told twice.

“i'm sorry I was rude to you, I didn't mean it. you were just there and I—” he shushed your ramble with a kiss to your temple, arms squeezing you against him the way you craved in bed a few minutes ago. “i'm sorry, spencer. please don't be mad at me.” the last part you let out in a soft whisper but it only made him pull you closer as a form of comfort, to erase the pain you were feeling.

spencer cupped your cheeks so you would look at him “i'm not mad.” he promised, thumb grazing your face lovingly. “i just thought you needed space, but I promise I'm not mad, okay?”

you nodded with your lips trembling slightly. you were fairly certain that if you were to speak anything right now you'd burst into tears immediately.

you did manage to let out i don't want space, I want you. because it was all that you needed right now. always.

he kissed every teardrop that slipped out after that, bringing you closer to lay on his chest as he rested his back against the arm of the couch.

“i'm here, baby.” he whispered, fingers dancing across your arms. “always.”

you turned on his hold to be face to face with him, lifting one hand to touch the side of his face, caressing his jaw where you felt the growing stubble on his chin.

“thank you.” you said, smiling faintly when he pecked the tip of your nose.

he ended up covering the both of you with the spare blanket.

he breathed out as if pretty satisfacted with your current position, even though you both will most certainly be complaining of backache as soon as you wake up tomorrow. “i love you.” he let out, not minding about the pain in his joints in the morning. the only thing that mattered was you in his arms, safe and sound.

the day started good, until a phone call ruined it completely.

or not. because spencer was there and he kind of made things bearable. and if he could just make you feel better for a little while, that's what he would do.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets

[melodygatesauthor]

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

Back to Main Masterlist

Back to Triple Frontier Masterlist

[shinehalley]

I think between the most common misinterpretations of Pride and Prejudice that irritates me the most i can say the one at the top is when they say that the story is about a woman fixing a complicated guy and this becomes references in terrible romances. I've heard this so many times and as a person who grew up with the 2005 film and reads the book at least once a year I need to get it off my chest.

Starting off, Darcy is not a "complicated man". He's not a bad guy who takes out his traumas on other people, he's not a guy who's waiting to be saved by a woman who "silences his demons" and even less a guy who mistreats the women he's with. Darcy is actually a rich man with rude manners and some class prejudices. The point is that Darcy is a man with moral convictions and feelings that make him a good man despite these aspects. His rude manners are a reflection of his class prejudice, but they do not dictate how he treats people for whom he has feelings of affection. The way he would be able to move the world for those he cares about and seek the closest thing to what is considered justice in the temporal context of the story reinforces the goodness of his character. This is even more evident in the comparison that is made between him and Wickeham, where one is unpleasant but good and the other is pleasant but a cheat.

And what Elizabeth does is far from correcting him. Darcy doesn't realize how his class prejudice affects the way he communicates with people and the view he has of himself because everyone always justifies his arrogance as fair because of his wealth. So he believes that Elizabeth admires him when, in reality, she despises him for these characteristics. And what she does is just say it to his face, something no one has done before, and that's it. This is Elizabeth's contribution to any development of Darcy, to say how arrogant and prejudiced he is. It is Darcy himself who reflects on her words and realizes that she is right and that he is not being as fair as he thought he was. He realizes his own prejudice and realizes his own arrogance and of his own free will decides to change because he wants to be a better and more pleasant person.

It could be said that it was fate that put him and Elizabeth in each other's path and made her realize, now with more pleasant manners without prejudices obscuring her actions, what a good man Darcy is and become enchanted by him. But if they hadn't met again, Darcy would still take on this challenge of re-educating himself and being a better person and Elizabeth would still continue to think of him as an arrogant man in whom she feels no interest.

The other issue is that Elizabeth is not perfect. She has her own prejudices that are overcome throughout the book thanks to her coexistence with Darcy and not because of Darcy. The fact that she lives with both Darcy and Wickeham at the same time is what makes her understand how unfair she was in her first impression and how foolish she was in being guided by that to define the characters of both. Kindness and amability are not synonymous with integrity and she learns this the hard way. It's a lesson that if she hadn't learned through her time with Darcy, she would have learned it in some other way because life has things like that.

Finally, they were essential in each other's lives because of the teachings they left to reflect on their actions in relation to the world and not because they depend on each other. Both are confronted with their prejudices and realize that they were not fair and try to change for better people regardless of whether they are together or not. Their meeting after realizing their errors in judgment is purely accidental. They don't change for each other, they change for themselves, because they realize how proud they were and want to be more fair, and after that they end up being placed back in each other's lives by chance. That's what makes them such an interesting couple and makes us wish we had what they have.

Reducing the story of Darcy and Elizabeth to an asshole man who is fixed up by a woman is a mistake so grotesque that it is noticeable that it could only have been said by a person who has never seen the story or seen it with their ass.

[plutosfallenangel]

Random Moon Sign Observations | pt.II

(*based on personal experiences and opinions. look at the whole natal chart to gain complete insight, some aspects/house placements can make contradictions to the below information*)

• Scorpio Moon •

-always watching, taking it all in..

-knows most of the answers to questions before they ask

-dry humor (which I personally love)

-passionate about whatever they put their mind to, no half or 50% effort (they do have to be emotionally bonded to the person or hobbie/task, if not, they're redirecting their energy elsewhere)

-prone to becoming hyperfocused on one specific thing (most times to their detriment)

-mommy issues (but they don't talk about them, and hate when you assume you know the relationship dynamic, it's a very unique relationship dynamic and overtime it can grow to be stronger or more distant)

-deep conversations if they trust you, which is hard to gain. Trust is earned through sacrifice most times.. even if something small, they need to see you prove your loyalty and trust)

-the one I would call to bury a body (jokes pls)

-doesn't like to make assumptions, uses their earned knowledge on human behavior, they will study those around them like a case study, only to come to their own conclusions after seeing all the "facts". They can be extremely patient in this act too... they want to know you from the inside out

-sensitive to shifts in the mood, but again.. most times they will keep this information inside and watch, study you to see why it shifted

• Sagittarius moon •

-life of the party (unless heavy earth placements, bedtime comes sooner than later especially with age)

-will be the one you can call to come help you get your car stuck out of the mud, or go biking in the backwoods.. just down for anything and personally I love that about them

-can be too concerned about keeping the good times rolling, doesn't always directly express emotions.. but it's more like a dark joke, everything is turned into a joke, you just need to decipher it most times. And if it's not turned into a joke, they will laugh after they tell you horrible news. Imo a defense mechanism

-may lack boundaries when it comes to those they connect with emotionally, this isn't always a bad thing, they're coming from a place of exploration... like "how far can you and I go?" However sometimes I find they are the most capable of staying in bad situations, always trying to see the good in everyone

-can start a campfire with their bare hands, or atleast minimal tools, very attracted to fire.. find them near a fire all year round if its possible for them to do so

-can sometimes be sneakier than Scorpio moons.. when they set their eye on something in the distance that they want, they go about it most times in silence (this does depend on which house the moon is in)

-big lovers, big emotions, and larger than life dreams

-facial expressions for DAYS! I love how expressive they are.. warm smiles

-definitely rebellious in their younger years

-doesn't like to be tied down by family, but can adapt (most often moves away from mother)

• Capricorn moon •

- lives by the work hard, play harder motto

-always learns the hard way, doesn't like to take advice, rather learn through experience

-tells you like it is when you ask for relationship advice

-too many responsibilities when they were young, even if they had a good solid foundation growing up and were provided for, the expectations put on them were very heavy

-its never "how are you feeling", more "do you need anything?" and I love them for it

-happiest when they're putting themselves into something they can build on long-term, when they don't have that they can spiral FAST

-these people can drink.. and when I say drink, they're the ones to clear a 12-pack and act like they're still sober (from my experience lol)

-in my experience is much of a mommy's girl/boy as cancer moons are (esp when they're young.. they always want to take care of their mom)

-very in tune with the weather, I notice they most times have allergies or can feel a storm coming from how their body reacts

-big provider energy, but they can feel like they can't accept help from others, and end up toughing out the storm by themselves.. this is often from early childhood experiences that breed the need for extreme independence in some form

• Aquarius moon •

-they are on their own energetic wavelengths together, all aqua moons come here for a very specific reason that aligns with what society needs to be shifted/changed.. no matter how big or small the reputation they have they make an impact on those around them. Most are well-known in their local community

-big futures/big dreamers.. these people can see themselves 10 years down the road when you ask them where they'll be, they might not have a CLUE how to get there (depending on the rest of the chart) but they'll always have a sense of direction intuitively on how to get there

-can become way too overanalyzing of their own feelings and that of others.. over thinkers. They can have a hard time reading emotional encounters in the moment.. they need some time to brew with it, read into it, and for them it's easy to sit with these memories of emotion because aqua is a fixed sign

-there is an inner hermit that exists within all of them, do NOT disturb them during their hermit hours

-doesn't give much energy out to people who do them wrong, or atleast out loud to others. They love to share stories about other people, but aren't the first ones to bring up drama when it happens

-their mom is supportive of their endeavors and always wishes the best for them.. I've never met an aqua moon that didn't have a supportive mom (again this does depend on the whole chart, esp 12H moons)

-naturally creative, most I know are very passionate about creative projects and can easily bury themselves in one for long periods of time

-most times they hate having to cancel plans, not because they dont want to go, it's because they hate feeling like they let someone down

-if they invite you to their house, they will make sure you feel at home

-big social circles, few close friends that understand them

-loves to share their viewpoints, but can have bad memories lol they tend to "misplace" memories, you never know what will trigger an old forgotten memory to come up only to dissappear again

-very smart, loves YouTube videos, emotional comfort documentaries

• Pisces Moon •

-can become their mothers "mother" in a sense, their mom might rely on them a lot

-doesnt mind crying infront of others, and for me I admire this... let it out!! There's NO shame in it! (Just don't do it to manipulate others obv)

-vivid imagination, lucid dreamers, I have a 12H moon and often find myself bonding over dream stories with them

-doesn't mind disappearing until they feel up to being social, just don't forget to check in on them, they love compassion

-i often see when they share their emotions and unfortunate stories with others that it causes them to open up too, they love to hold emotional space for people especially those closest

-can often feel the "blame" from others even if it's not theirs, they can feel like they're always doing something wrong or someone is upset and it is because of them, which is most often not the case

-will decorate with a lot of pastels or a wide variety of colors in their home

-the best mentors in their life are women

-journals, journals, journals... let me into your mind palace

-soft poets, or amateur artists, this moon sign expresses a lot of emotion through art. Art helps them put a finger on how they're feeling. They channel divine messages and emotions through a craft, and even if it's not their own art they are connecting with, they will resonate with it and pass a message along to others that helps them understand something they need to at the time

-either early bedtime or no bedtime at all, creature of the night or morning star.. there's no in between with them

-being alone helps them process the most. Especially the shower lol they can process days worth of emotions in the shower I'm convinced

[romanestuffsposts]

Hello, love! I miss you and daddies stucky. So what if their little really like being carried around but sometimes she’s insecure about her weight and think she’s too heavy for them. How would daddies handle that? Would they still carried her or rocking her to sleep? (Hope you’re doing fine, lots of love! 🥺❤️)

Hi there love! 💜

Ohh interesting idea, i really love it!!

But i hope it’s not how you feel tho, you’re absolutely beautiful the way you are, you were created perfectly and plans that life has for you is what you need to be. So who cares if you’re a little heavier than your friends or need to change your clothes because they are too small; you grew up, you change, your body change and it change with what you need.

Don’t ever forget, you are beauty, you are gorgeous and you are you no matter what happens

Lotsssss of love sweetie 💜

Enjoyyyy <333

*****

Warnings :

Parings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary :

Being carried around is the best thing on earth. You love your Daddies’s arms so of course being in them is just THE perfect spot for you.

You love how they envelope you with their arms, you love their sent, you love resting your head on their shoulders and the fact that they let you fall asleep on them and they just don’t mind it. They keep doing their things with you in their arms.

Every time you can you ask to just climb on them. They usually let you, they love when you do that.

For you, it’s the safest place in the world. Where you feel good, where you feel held, where you feel protect.

Protect from the world, protect from others, but not protect from yourself..

You know most people go through those kind of awful thought about themselves but you, you are the little girl of two superheroes, you shouldn’t feel that way, you’re protect by them, it shouldn’t happen.

And yet here you are

Feeling bad because you Papa had to put you back on the ground because he had to go take care of some heavy things. Are you too heavy to be in his arms even with heavy charges ?

Of course not, he just doesn’t want anything to fall on you because he had to hold everything in one hand. But that thought never crossed your mind, why would it ?

So you’re left alone on the ground of the hallway. Your daddy will soon come back from grocery shopping but it seems so far away for your right now.

Your head click up when you hear the door. A happy smile takes now over your frustrate one as you see your daddy stepping inside. He has lots of bag in his hands but you know for sure he wouldn’t mind to make you some space.

As you jump on he carefully wrap an arm around you so you won’t fall down ‘’well hello you’’ he chuckles at your excitement. It doesn’t even do 30 minutes that he lefts.

‘Welcome back home’’ you say squirming around to get comfy. He goes in the kitchen and put you back on your feet making you confused

‘’Wait baby, it’s too heavy’’ he growns as he drops you down carefully and quickly wraps both of his arms around the bags to drop them as well on the kitchen counter.

Your face fell, was he speaking about you ? You didn’t quit hear all his words because of the sounds made from the bags but you heard the essentials.. too heavy

He doesn’t hear you running upstairs, too busy organizing the kitchen.

Dinner time has arrived and you’re still in your room, looking in the mirror, trying your clothes to see if they still fit and asking Bucksy if your body has changed and if it hurt him when you sleep on him at night.

A gentle knock on your door make you turn around and you see your Papa walking in your room ‘’dinners ready, princess’’ he softly says.

As you get up, he gets ready to take in his arms like you usually ask but this time you walk past him and go downstairs.

It wasn’t for being rude or anything and your papa didn’t took it that way, it was just so he wouldn’t feel bad or like he has to.

Bucky saw the weird look on your papa’s face but didn’t question it, he would eventually when you wouldn’t be around. It can be anything like it can be nothing but it can still be a tropic from work and to protect you they never talk about work when you’re around.

‘’Alright time for a bath now’’ your Daddy says after doing the dishes. You really like what your Papa had made tonight for dinner and you enjoyed eating it but you hold yourself to take another portions.

‘’won’t need help’’ you murmur. You’re way too ashamed for one of them to see you naked.

Your daddy frowns at the same time as your papa. You love when they’re the one washing you, it’s always a playful time that they cherish with you and you just love their touches and attentions on you ‘but baby-

‘’is oki’’ you smile a little before going upstairs. They of course won’t let you take your bath alone. It’s not only because they love it that they do it but because it’s dangerous if none of them have an eye on you.

Your Daddy follows quickly behind you ‘hey what’s going on’’ he asks as he sees you taking your pyjamas

‘’Nothing’’ you mumble before trying to go into the bathroom. Your daddy grabs you by your waist before you’re able to do that and goes sit on your bed with you on his lap.

‘’Tell me what’s going on, beautiful’’ he gently says, caressing your forehead with his finger.

You look at him in the eyes for some times and end up hiding your face on his neck. He turns you around so that each of your knees are on each side of his legs and hold you close, feeling you starting your tremble.

You Papa take a seat next to the both of that and gently stroke your back. Both of them waiting and letting you getting it out.

‘’You don’t feel well today ?’’ Your Papa asks after some times

You shake your head, of course you don’t feel well but not how they imagine.

‘’Beautiful, you know you can talk to us, we’re here to listen to you’’ your daddy quietly says before dropping a kiss on tope of your head

You pull away taking deep breath to calm, still avoiding their eyes. Your Daddy’s hands fall on top of your naked feet who are beside his knees while your Papa’s take a hold of your hand, both of them softly stroking what they’re touching.

You’re scared to speak now because you’re scared they’ll feel bad and that’s not what you want

‘’Take the time you need baby but you need to tell us, don’t speak for us but do it for you, you will feel a lot better i promise’’

You whine but eventually speak ‘don’t want you to hold me anymore’’ you quietly say

‘’Why not ?’’ Your Daddy asks

‘’ ‘cause i too heavy and don’t want you to feel bad’’ you say, hiding your face. You hate being vulnerable.

Your daddies faces fall and they immediately understand what’s going on and what happened all day

‘’Oh baby’’ your Papa breathes out

‘’My love look at us’’ you do and your daddy keeps going ‘’baby do you know who we are ?’’ He smiles down at you ‘’we can hold a building with you little finger and won’t even feel it’’

Your eyes widen, is he comparing you to the weight of a building ?

‘No no keep that thought out of your mind, daddy didn’t mean to say it that way’’ your Papa quickly say after understanding your gaze ‘’he just meant that you could never be heavy to us, you are our little girl and you are perfect the way you are’’

‘’We love you for who you are and not for how you are’

‘’Yes’’ your papa agrees ‘’and you are not heavy, you are perfect’’

Your lips goes upside down as you try not to fall into tears

‘Okay how about,’’ your daddy looks at your papa before speaking again ‘’how about we skip bath tonight’�� he looks back at you ‘’I have the perfect idea to make you feel better’’

He stands up with you in his arms and start to rock you, murmuring soft melody and turning off the light of your room. Your Papa takes place with you take along with your daddy’s mouvement.

Gentle fingers are sliding down your nose, soft hands keep your feet warm by holding them, beautiful voices filled your ears with kind words and your anxiety slip away like dirt wit the soap.

Your eyes are too heavy to stay open and your mind is too sleepy to stay awake, taking you with her for a good sleep in your favorite arms.

[nineteenninety-six]

HI EJDBJEBJ pls pls can u do a banda sunato imagine?

where he meets reader at the jack of hearts game and he fell in love at first sight and he was not expecting it because he's a serial killer and there he sees reader (doesnt need to be fem) and like gad damn hi why did i just meet u today. and he swears to like,, protect the reader.

bonus ig is that reader is close to chishiya

I change a few things from the episode but hopefully, it still makes sense lol and Banda is ooc. Also, it's funny seeing the likes go up for my Arisu fic since the second season was released.

I made this gn but if you see any gendered language please tell me so I can correct it!

YN trailed behind Chishiya as they entered the prison where the Jack of Hearts game was being held. After being separated from the rest of the group, the two of them were trying to get back to them whilst entering the face card games.

Well, YN was focused on getting back to the group whilst Chishiya took his sweet time, eagerly seeking out the blimps that flew over Tokyo. 

His eyes lit up when he realised that they were near the Jack of Hearts game, and though he says he was not suited for them, YN believed that Chishiya was intelligent to the point he could adapt to all of the card types, except maybe Spades but he would figure a way out for that too as he did with the Tag game.

If it wasn’t for the fact that their visa was going to expire soon, YN would be sitting outside of the prison waiting for Chishiya to return but unfortunately, the borderlands were cruel so here they were putting their life on the line yet again.

They slipped the collars on as instructed and made their way into the guard room where about ten people were waiting and judging from the table of collars by the entrance, it was going to be a high-number player game.

Chishiya found a shadowed alcove where he could see the entrance and everyone else who was already there. YN took their place next to him and together they waited for the rest of the players to join.

Eventually, the last player joined and the tension and fear in the room amplified as the screen in the room lit up and the automated voice rattled through the speakers and everyone’s attention was directed to it.

“Difficulty, Jack of Hearts.”

“Game, Prison Cell”

┆彡

Banda stepped into the guardroom and set his gaze upon the other players in the guardroom. Some nervously avoided eye contact, others squared their shoulders and made themselves bigger as others hid in the shadows.

Nothing unusual, he noted. After all, they were all forced to participate in these death games but some adapted better than others. Some people thrived and dominated the games whilst others simply rode on their coattails, surviving off the backs of others.

Banda turned his attention back to the screen, listening to the instructions as they were explained. 

“Rules. Guess the suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you cannot see your own suit. The time limit per round is one hour. Five minutes before the time is up enter one of the prison cells and guess what your own suit is. If you do not guess your suit correctly, the game is over for you. When time runs out, your collar will explode and you will die. In addition, your suit will change at every round.”

People fiddled with their collars, twisting and turning but their design made it impossible.

“But we just need to have someone tell us what it is, right? That'll be easy” A young man excitedly exclaims on the other side of the room, bringing Banda’s attention to him and consequently to YN as they move out of the shadows when the man next to them responds.

“I wouldn't be so sure. They haven't told us how to clear the game.”

Banda pays no attention to the voice as it finishes explaining the rules as he was hooked on the mysterious person on the opposite side of the room. 

He was down bad and they hadn’t even shared a word.

┆彡

YN watched as everyone started to team up but distrust was thick in the air. Reality has settled in, it would be hard to clear this game and most will die as distrust and backstabbing fester.

The young man in what YN thought was quite an adorable set-up of a yellow t-shirt and dungarees, turns to them “Hey, let’s tell each other”

“If you want to survive, you need to observe everyone here very closely. You need to remember everyone who doesn’t lie. Besides, I could be the Jack of Hearts myself…”

YN tunes out Chishiya, their gaze focused on the man who is steadily approaching them from the other side of the room. He was cute, with a sweet smile and broad shoulders.

His eyes are only on YN and as he stops in front of them, it pulls Chishiya from his conversation but he remains silent as he watches on.

“Do you want to partner up?” The man asked eagerly, “We’re stronger in pairs.”

Chishiya makes a noise of amusement which causes the man's eyes to flicker over to him.

“...Unless you’ve already partnered up” The man glared slightly at Chishiya

“No, no… we can all group up.” YN quickly spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension between the two men. Chishiya had the ability to piss anyone and everyone off, including YN several times.

When the man looked back over at YN, they introduced themselves, holding out a hand that the man eagerly shook and introduced himself.

“Banda.” He smiles, “Banda Sunato”

YN returns his smile and twists around, showing him the back of their collar, “Do you mind telling me mine?”

Banda steps closer to look at the collar before gently tugging YN back around to face him. The physical contact was unneeded but YN didn’t mind. In fact, they kind of liked it.

“Club.”

YN tells him and Chishiya’s theirs before they have to go into the cells to call out their suit.

There are no deaths this round and everyone breathes a sigh of relief as they step out of their cells. 

Immediately Banda makes their way over to YN with a smile, not wanting to be separated from them for longer than he has to.

Chishiya watches as they head to the food room, racking his brain, trying to remember where he remembers the name Banda Sunato from. 

┆彡

“You know, I wonder how long this will last”

The words of the man next to Banda catch YN’s attention, so they listen in on their conversation.

“Either the Jack will start killing people, or someone who’s afraid they’ll be killed will start killing others. Until one of those things happens, this will never end.” Banda explains.

“That’s exactly right.” Chishiya jumps in.

“As long as we’re all telling each other, we’ll be fine.” The man in the yellow shirt, Ippei, tries to look on the brighter side of things.

YN gives him a sympathetic smile, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Their conversation is interrupted by shouting and a young man being shoved to the floor. Everybody turns to watch as a bald man shouts at the frightened younger man to tell him his suit.

YN tries to move forward to help him but is stopped by Chishiya who shakes his head at them, motioning to what Banda was currently doing. 

When YN hears the muffled explosion and thump that echoes through the prison at the end of the round, they realise what Banda had done.

┆彡

Banda watches as YN snacks on a packet of cookies, finding everything they do utterly endearing and adorable.

“You know…” He begins to speak, catching YN’s attention, “I would never betray you. I’ll protect you.”

He takes YN’s hand in his, holding it tightly but their moment is interrupted by the arrival of Chishiya.

“Eyy, for all we know you can be the jack of hearts.”

Banda glares at Chishiya. So does YN. Trust him to stir up shit.

“So could you.”

Chishiya points at YN, “They can vouch for me”

Banda looks over to YN who rolls their eyes and nods, “I’ve had the misfortune of knowing Chishiya since I came to the borderlands. He’s not the Jack. Neither am I, by the way.”

Banda quickly shook his head, “I would have never thought that.”

YN saw Chishiya make a face from the corner of their eye but ignored him.

YN didn’t tell Banda that they knew he kickstarted the series of deaths in this game either.

┆彡

Players were dropping like flies. Backing stabbing and fear had crumbled groups until there were only seven of them left. 

Ippei couldn’t take it, the game had broken him and as YN watched him sob on the floor as Chishiya tried to comfort him, they felt bad for him. They understood how these death games took everything from you and if you manage to survive one, you barely have enough time to recuperate before you’re forced to join another lest you want your visa to run out.

When YN heard the muffled explosion at the end of the hour, they knew Ippei chose death. 

Banda approached YN, seeing how upset they were about Ippei, bringing them into a hug and comforting them.

“He’s at peace now.”

YN nodded and snuggled further into his hold, melting into his warmth. YN had needed that hug desperately, the last one they had was with Kuina at The Beach which felt like a lifetime ago. 

YN took a backseat role for the next round, Chishiya told them their suit and vice versa. Watching as he planned something with Banda and Yaba but did not get involved as they laid a trap for Matsushita, the Jack of Hearts.

After the trap fell in place, YN watched as Yaba dragged Matsushita into an empty cell as Banda made his way over to where they were standing and Chishiya made himself scarce, giving them a moment of privacy.

Banda cups YN’s cheek in his hand, “I think this is where we part but we will meet again. I promise you that.”

YN nodded, placing their hand over the one that rested on their cheek, “We will. I know it.”

Banda gave them a rare smile before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on YN’s cheek before he let them go and walked back to the cell Yaba was holding Matsushita in.

As YN and Chishiya left the prison, the blimp above it exploded, signalling the Jack of Hearts had been defeated.

YN cast a worried look back at the prison as they walked further away which Chishiya rolled his eyes at when he noticed.

“You know he is a serial killer right?” Chishiya told them still walking away, “ He’ll be fine”

YN did a double take at his words, “A what?”

“Serial killer. Killed four women”

YN gaped at the back of Chishiya’s head before chasing after him, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Chishiya looked behind him and picked up his pace at the sight of YN’s mad face gaining ground on him, “I thought you knew! I thought he told you!”

┆彡

One week later, YN sat outside the supreme court waiting for Chishiya as he played the King of Diamonds game when they heard a voice call out to them.

“Waiting for someone?”

YN looked up and couldn’t help the smile that spread on their face, 

“Banda!”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What do you think L thinks of the successor program?

Previous Thoughts on Wammy's and How the Concept is both Bonkers and Toxic

Well, what we see is pretty damning.

L... Doesn't Talk About it Much and Other Bad Signs

L brings up the successor program once in the manga (this line is removed from the anime adaptation). It's a very one-off line in which he tells Light (while still in the college arc) that "you know, even if you were to kill me, L is legion and I'd just be replaced by the next L" and Light sort of stares at him.

Neither touch on this ever again.

Worse, when the torch is passed, it's only because Watari happened to be in the room where he could push The Big Red Button (TM) that sent information to Wammy's. And yes, while there was clearly a protocol in place to let the successors take on L's legacy, it uh... sure wasn't L pushing that button and the fact that it's a secret button in the security room where Watari hangs out (and certainly not L) leads me to think this is a Watari idea (the orphanage where people compete for the title of L, being in fact, Watari's weird fucking idea).

Most tellingly, L doesn't even bring it up when he knows he's going to die. He doesn't even think to himself "ah yes, those bratty twelve-year-olds in England will get vengeance for me and then Light will be put to justice". L doesn't think about the Wammy program at all in his last day, in fact, he knew for several hours he was going to die and he didn't seek out any means to bring his successors in or even think "oh woe that Light is right there or I could inform my secret successors of everything we need to know".

We learn later that Near and Mello never actually met L, in fact, and if they ever did speak to him it was... brief and impersonal. This leaves them both with weird complexes about the man and their relationship with the role of successor.

In fact, L blatantly says "Light is my successor" and seems to mean it. True, L knew Light was Kira and was perhaps doing this for the mind fuckery, but on the other hand he had no reason to do this and again, had time to take it back once he realized Light was Kira again (which he did very quickly after Light got his memories back). Had L not done this, he could have either a) directly had a Wammy's person take over and explain the whole successor thing (he does not) or b) left it such that Soichiro was in charge. He has nothing to gain by even hinting that Light could take control over his title after he left. And the fact is... Light does do it. He's the power behind L for six years while Near and Mello do... well, Mello joins the mafia and has a time in Nevada, Near does who fucking knows what.

Basically, L couldn't be less supportive of the Wammy's orphanage unless he actively shut it down and fired Watari (but then who would bring him snacks?)

But Why?

L's in it for personal victory. L wants to beat Kira himself, he wants to do it on his own terms, with his own ingenuity. It's not so much about beating Kira but the fact that he will be the one to beat Kira. His 'successors' doing so would be less than meaningless to L.

Leaving it to some twelve-year-old to solve, hand-picked by Watari because they solved puzzles good and read good too, would be worse for L than fucking Matsuda or Misa making a major break in the case (and canonically, both those things happen, and canonically L handles it fucking poorly).

Worse, Watari is not even implying, but outright saying, that L is not so special a super genius snowflake and that Watari can cultivate another one simply through hard work and careful selection. "Congratulations, L, you are irrelevant and superfluous!" And worse, those replacements are little kids and I imagine L finds their quirks... annoying. (I'm not convinced L's not just s troll).

And if we take LABB into account, all L sees them do is kill themselves or make trouble for everyone (through murder). L does not want to deal with these people (and so he doesn't and makes Naomi do it for an entire hilarious novel).

TL;DR

L hates those fuckers.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

people who not see themselves as disabled, people who view self n this world through able bodied lens, (even if they themselves fit definition of disabled and/or chronic illness or other chronic medical issues with chronic symptoms), to them everything is just like curable cold. they understand world through lens of their cold - mild curable cold with no lasting effects.

eventually you recover from cold. you cure from cold. you no longer have cold symptoms. it just phase. all (yes, all, even __) medical conditions, include disability & chronic conditions, after weeks or months or a year or three or generously, five, it will be gone. they cannot fathom something that permanent. they may logically, consciously when remember, on paper, say or know that certain disabilities & illnesses no cure, n will protest n pout n cry wolf n say you purposely painting them be ableist when you point out they don’t actually fully believe it, but. it not actually, fully, truly, be part of their subconscious or unconscious world view. n it shows.

n if you take longer than amount time they decide is appropriate to recover n be cure of your “cold,” they must find way to integrate that into their “all medical things will end” world view without have to adjust it. so you’re: not trying hard enough, because if you did you would be recovered, cured, it be ended. because their cold ended. their cousin twice removed’s “very bad illness that lasted very long time” ended, because they “tried all method there is,” so they heard.

or you bad attitude. you not want it cured. you faking. whatever mental gymnastic creative reason that rock my world.

you not recovered like them, it a *you* problem, it a *individual* you problem, because you didn’t do some *actionable action* (not try hard enough, etc) or you did too much of it (faked it, etc). difference between you n them is, well, they did it, they did all personally actionable action (take some day easy, sip tea, maybe take some cold medicine, but honestly if they did none of that, would still recover just fine). while you inconvenienced them, including by existing in front their eyes.

their actionable action: move this small rock from one side to another

your actionable action, if even have one: move this fucking goddamn mountain to other side of earth

you not cured, you problem, you didn’t do something right. you not able afford treatment, you problem. there not treatment, you problem, you not trying hard enough find one. doctor dismiss you, you problem, you did something cause this. they themselves not listen to you? you problem, geez why so sensitive n explosive.

because admit anything other than that. will disrupt their world, complete shake their world view. n must not have that. so, be ostrich bury head in sand to avoid incoming predators.

n somehow it always compare to mild cold that recover after few days with no leftover effects, or similar (specific illness not matter as long as it fit), but never their own chronic back pain, or their parent’s high blood pressure, or heart problems, or the problems that “just a part of life” n excluded from consideration. aging people aging, old people old, they deal with aging n old people issues, not disabled issues.

but. they not just need believe that all medical things will end. “cured” is bad way put it because it imply there definite, clear, visible end. for something to end there need be something exist/existed for it to end. your medical thing not just need to end, but it need not exist in first place. it need be erased from past - not just erased but also erase fact that it erased. forget fact that they “forgot.” cut segment off paper strip n glue ends together, n that segment never existed.

just like their cold came n gone. clean.

not like those with post-viral conditions. (shh, they don’t exist)

recover from cancer. become person who never had cancer. become back to version of you before you had cancer (if even have or remember one… which everyone do. obviously [sarcasm]). they don’t even know they don’t know you may have variety of emotional psychological or physical leftover things from it.

n write to now, realize it not accurate contribute it to just people who view self n thus world through able bodied lens. nor non-disabled lens. but it societal view, so non-disabled n disabled n everyone in between n beyond, all have it to some degree. saw it in how one neurodivergent person treat another with physical disabilities, saw it in how one with physical disability treat another with different physical disability diagnosis, saw it in how one with one disability treat another with same disability. disabled people not immune to it just by virtue of be medically disabled, or even when also disabled as social & political identity. because to unlearn this it a conscious, constant effort you never done with. but just, oh, when you view self n thus world through able bodied &/ nondisabled lens n never once thought to challenge it because why would you, this so obvious in you.

[uglypastels]

i have to say this, eddie love fucking you when you’re in a messy bun and your glasses almost falling down your nose. Chef’s kiss

Chef's kiss indeed and i hope this is ok, but this gave me major librarian!reader vibes, and I meant to make this pure filth, but as I started writing, I realised that I adore these two wholeheartedly, so please enjoy the fluff fest around it.

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. p in v sex. sex in a public place. unprotected sex (dzon't dzo it). swearing.

masterlist // inbox //

Working in the Hawkins Town Library, you got to be in the presence of almost everybody who lived there, from the youngest readers to the eldest. Everyone needed books for one reason or another, let it be homework research, recipes or just some entertainment. There were the quiet readers who settled themselves somewhere in a corner to spend the rest of the day with their noses in between the pages; the ones who search for hours for the one book they had their mind set on the moment they walked in; the ones that, for whatever reason, forget to stay silent. There were fans of fantasy as well as historical non-fiction, philosophy and romance. There was a place for everybody here. 

With such a variety in patrons, it was only natural you grew to have favourites. Some might be more self-explanatory than others. Of course, your heart doubled when Julie came in with her daughter, Sandy [who just turned six!], to pick out a new book every few weeks. Or old man Farrell who already knew all the facts in the books he checked out and was more than happy to share with you.

It could come to most people as a shock then that the person you looked forward to seeing the most was none other than Eddie Munson.

Surprisingly, he could be the definition of the perfect library patron. Besides the fact that he had never been late with book returns, when you started working there, the first few times Eddie came by, he scared you to death—so quiet was he, sneaking around the aisles and up to the counter to check his stacks of books out.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya there, sweetheart,’ he said as he put the books on the desk. 

‘It’s alright.’ You started picking up books from the pile, stamping in the date on the inside sheet. ‘Might have to consider getting a bell.’ You smiled, ‘that way I could hear you coming.’ 

‘Hmm, too bad I don’t have a bell.’ Eddie clicked his tongue but reached into one of his pockets, ‘but… would these do?’ He pulled out a handful of thin metal chains. They rattle around. 

‘Why do you have those in your pocket?’ You asked curiously as you gave him back the books. 

‘Always have them on me– I mean, on my jeans, but I take them off when I’m hear. Don’t want to disturb anyone.’ And with that, he gave you a shy little smile that made your heart melt. 

‘That is, actually, really sweet of you.’ If only more people were so considerate. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Yeah, well, I have my moments.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘See ya.’ You waved as he walked away, barely able to contain the smile on your face that the metalhead had caused. 

Not a lot changed since that day, but your and Eddie’s conversations did begin to grow. You’d keep on talking while you checked out his books, sometimes for so long that another patron would have to interrupt to get their books. Then, Eddie would pop by your desk to ask for the location of some particular book— one you had never heard of, in all honesty, but he probably easily could have found it if he bothered to look through the cards. 

‘Excuse me, sweetheart,’ he’d clear his throat, ‘do you have any idea where I could find Carrots Love Tomatoes?’ 

‘Sorry?’ You must have misheard the title.

‘Carrots Love Tomatoes: Secrets of Companion Planting for Successful Gardening. It’s for my uncle.’ Eddie would clarify, reading the title out from a scrap of paper he had scribbled on. 

‘Right. Do you know who it’s by, perchance?’ 

‘I’m surprised you don’t.’ He reread the paper. ‘Louise Riotte– shit, I’m definitely mispronouncing that.’ He quickly spelt it out for you.

Well, you had to admit, you weren’t personally familiar with Miss Riotte’s work, but you knew this library inside-out and told Eddie to follow you into the section you thought it most likely to be. The non-fiction section was off in the corner of the library, with only rectangular windows blocks near the ceiling, letting in barely any daylight. The light was, instead, coming from the lamps above you; they flickered and buzzed on the off-moments. 

Eddie stayed a step behind you as you navigated through the shelves, muttering the alphabet to yourself repeatedly as you tried to find the RI– shelf. Once you finally found it, you realised it was on the top of the bookcase, where you couldn’t reach it. 

‘It’s up there.’ You pointed, thinking that maybe Eddie would just get it himself now. But instead, Eddie offered to pick you up. A bit flustered, you accepted the offer and tried to ignore the feeling of his hands on your hips, the way his rings dug into your soft skin. He picked you up, and you grabbed the book quickly. Once back down on the ground again, you handed it over to him. Eddie thanked you with a large smile as he looked at the book. 

He frowned. 

‘Something wrong?’ You asked. 

‘No, no, it’s all good, thanks. It’s just that…I don’t know…’ He looked at the book a bit longer. ‘Oh, you know what? I think I must have read it wrong.’ He looked down at the scrap of paper again. ‘...yeah. That definitely says Catcher in the Rye. Well, thank you anyway, sweetheart. Really ‘preciate it.’ 

‘You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.’ You laughed. 

‘Uhm, I’ll have you know,’ he leaned against the bookcase by your side, ‘that this had actually all been an act of sheer brilliance.’ 

‘Oh?’ You were leaning against it, too, your shoulders almost touching. 

‘Yes. I would say that the way I got you here with me, away from all those people, is MacGyver-level brilliance.’ 

‘Don’t you think it might have been easier to just… I don’t know, just ask me to meet you here.’ You would have been going on a break soon anyway.

Eddie grinned as he leaned forward to you, ‘Now, what would be the fun in that?’ You could feel his breath on you. The scent of excessive bubblegum chewing greeted you. 

‘Fair enough,’ you tried to act cool, ignoring the hot flashes he was causing all over your body. ‘So, why did you want me to come out here? What couldn’t wait until my lunch break, Munson?’ 

‘Just wanted to say how cute you looked today.’ Eddie smiled, then, as if he remembered something– ‘Oh, and this–’ he leaned in, cupping your face in his hand, kissing you softly. 

So, perhaps, some things had changed over time. Smalltalk and jokes at the front desk turned into stolen kisses and hushed laughter in the dark corners of the library. Just as with everything around, Eddie was gentle and soft. His grip on you was there for support, to make you feel how much he wanted you near him. 

You pulled away with a small gasp, chest-beating fast, eyes fluttering open.

‘But I suppose I could have waited with that.’ Eddie said afterwards, his hand still on your cheek. 

‘I’m glad you didn’t.’ Your voice was hushed, but you kissed Eddie deeply instead of breathing in the air you needed. You pulled at his shirt to bring him closer, and his other hand reached for your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

‘You should probably get back,’ he muttered between kisses. 

‘Probably,’ you replied. Neither of you meant any of it, and you both knew it. You had no idea why you only saw each other at the library. Maybe because you always knew to find each other here; it was a certainty. Outside, it would be a mere coincidence to bump into Eddie. Here, you knew he would be here every week.

Maybe because it felt like a haven for both of you and it felt like a different reality—an escape from the real world. But it was precisely this that made everything else so fragile. Who knew what it would be like outside of these bookshelves? You didn’t want to know, so why risk it? What you had now, it was an unspoken agreement. One you both were more than happy with. It was special—a rarity. 

Everything- the kiss, the hold, the emotions, the heat- all intensified the longer you kept going. It was getting messy and rough. Eddie had locked you in between him and the bookcase. You could feel him all over you. His hair tickling your face, his cold rings on your skin, his clothes pressing into you, his— fuck, he was huge. You could feel him against your thigh, no hiding it. 

‘Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this the whole week.’ He breathed against your neck. ‘Haven’t stopped thinking about you.’ You would have told him the same if you could form an entire sentence. It was hard to concentrate daily when you had the memory of his touch plague you every day, and everything around you at your job was a heavy reminder.

‘Need… I need you, Eddie,’ you gasped out as he kissed your neck, right on the spot that made your knees go weak. ‘Please.’ 

‘Hmm, need you too, sweetheart.’ He was roaming his hand over your bare thigh underneath your skirt. Sometimes you wondered if anyone around had noticed that you really only wore them on days of Eddie’s library visits. Perhaps Eddie hadn’t picked up on that specifically, but he certainly enjoyed your style. ‘Drive my fucking wild in these short skirts of yours.’ The words rolled out of his mouth as he began unzipping his jeans. ‘Look so fucking good.’ 

‘Thank you,’ you moaned, giggling about how giddy you felt that he was complimenting you while preparing to thrust his dick in you. It was all so silly, so stupid. You were doing something incredibly risky, most likely illegal, but you couldn’t care one bit. All you could think about was how good he made you feel. How happy you felt with him. 

‘C’mere,’ Eddie groaned, pulling you up by your thighs, holding you against the shelves. Luckily, they were pretty sturdy, bolted to the ground, so his force pushing you against them barely mattered. On you, however, it was another story. 

‘Oh, fuck,’ you whimpered, trying to stay quiet at the feeling of him inside you. After letting you adjust quickly, he started thrusting in you hard and deep. The way he was moving against you, it made your whole body shake. You could feel your glasses slip down your nose. In the haze of it all, you had forgotten to take them off but were about to do so– when Eddie interrupted. 

‘No, keep them on.’ He kissed your cheek.

‘Why?’ you didn’t see a reason for them. 

‘Want you to see me fucking you.’ His smile was airy. ‘Besides, it’s hot as shit. The way you get so messy for me. And your hair,’ he punctuated each sentence with a deep thrust. One of his hands brushed some of your hair out of your face, ‘I wish I could take a picture of you right now. Would cum to it like every day.’ 

‘Gross.’ You joked, and in return, Eddie grazed his teeth over your collarbone, nipping at your skin slightly. 

‘Calling me gross as if you’re not getting fucked in the middle of the library.’ Eddie’s smile was contagious. As he continued, your glasses were falling again, but he quickly pushed them back over the bridge of your nose. ‘You’re fucking filthy, sweetheart.’ 

‘I’m–’ you gasped as he went deeper. 

‘Yeah, baby?’ 

‘I’m– I’m close, Eddie.’ You tried to whisper as best as you could, biting down on any noises that could be heard from afar.

‘Mmm, I know, you’re so tight. So perfect.’ he moaned through his last hard thrusts. You could feel your climax coming, knew how it would come, and quickly hid your face in the nape of his neck to muffle your scream of pleasure as it washed over you. Eddie rode it out with you, only moments behind. 

He held you briefly, letting you come down and stabilise your breathing. You smiled at eachother sheepishly and kissed deeply once more. There was nothing else to say.

Eddie pulled out, the emptiness hitting you immensely. It was a strange sensation, and you still didn’t feel quite yourself as your feet touched the ground again. But Eddie’s hands stayed on you for stability. 

‘You’re a dream, sweetheart. Just… unbelievable.’

Eddie brushed the loose strands of hair from your face again while you readjusted your glasses. There was nothing else to say.

Now came the awkward part where you timed your exit from the aisle and hid the guilty sex-glow look on your face. 

It was a slow day at the library, so no one awaited you at the front desk. You took your place and tried to shake off all your emotions, and it worked for the most part, except for the giant smile. That you just could not get rid of. 

It was still there when Eddie returned to you twenty minutes later, now accompanied by a new stack of books. 

‘Found everything you were looking for?’ You asked as you took the books from him. 

‘That and more.’ He leaned his elbows on the wood, grinning like an idiot. You had to tell yourself not to look at him, or you would get lost in those big brown eyes. 

‘I’m happy to hear that.’ You stamped the date into all the books and returned them to Eddie. ‘Here you go.’ 

‘Thanks, sweetheart.’ Eddie grabbed them under his arm. ‘Same time next week?’ He winked. Once, the words really were only meant for this little exchange. That had been all you were looking forward to—the small chat at the desk. Back then, you would have never imagined the things you would get up to with the metalhead in the barely visited sections of the library. 

‘See you, Eddie.’ You shook your head, still smiling, of course. And that was that. There was nothing else to say. 

At least, there wasn’t before. All those other times, that really would have been it. Eddie would have walked away, and you would have watched him do so while already awaiting his comeback. Yet this time…

This time, Eddie stayed in his place. 

‘Can I… help you with anything else?’ You raised a brow. 

‘Uhh–’ Eddie cleared his throat. ‘Yes. Yes, you could. See if I have these… these two tickets for this thing— a concert… and see, I have no idea what to do with this second one, so maybe you could help me with that.’ He spoke fast and like he was stumbling over an uneven pavement instead of words, but you followed it nonetheless.

‘Concert?’ You asked. 

‘Yes.’ He expanded with the name of a band you had never heard of before. ‘This weekend.’

You thought for a moment, or at least pretended to, as you already knew your answer. ‘I might have a friend who would be interested in taking that ticket off you.’ 

‘Any chance this friend of yours wears cute glasses, short skirts and works at my favourite spot in the city?’ 

‘She just might.’ You bit the inside of your cheek. 

‘Then it’s deal, sweetheart,’ Eddie slammed his hand on the table in excitement, then immediately cringed at the noise he made. That same noise seemed to have awakened a quick realisation in him: ‘Wait, we were talking about you, right?’

‘Yes, Eddie. I would love to go to the concert with you.’ You rolled your eyes at the needed clarification.

‘Cool, just checking. Great.’ he started walking away now. ‘Great. I’ll pick you up– wait; I don’t even know where you live.’ 

‘You can pick me up here.’

‘Do you live at the library?’ he asked quickly, and you were sure he was being serious.

‘No, Eddie, I do not, but I work weekends too. But you can bring me back to my place afterwards. Stay the night, maybe?’ Was that too much too quickly? You started to panic for a second, thinking you took it too far, but then Eddie replied, repeating his previous words.

‘It’s a deal, sweetheart.’

the end

thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to hear your thoughts