#this is a memory that exists in my head that never happened

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 spoilers⚠️

i just saw someone say "vi put on a uniform for caitlyn but caitlyn never took hers off", even going as far as saying that caitvi shouldn't have ended up together bcuz they have the dynamic of "oppressor and oppressed". tell me you've never paid attention to a single thing caitlyn's done or said in either season without telling me😭😭 (this is my nth post abt this bcuz it pisses me off when ppl mischaracterize her so when you see underlined text, it's linked to a more detailed post)

are we forgetting when she traded her weapon, her gun, her only protection away for a shimmer/medication/potion thing w/ that fucked up undercity dude with the glasses (the one who became the first of the glorious evolution) for vi and hugged him as thanks?

when she saw ekko's commune, his tree, and validated ekko's feelings about piltover and enforcers but also told him the cycle of violence needs to be broken because the undercity needs healing - something ekko could understand even in his anger and hurt.

when she confronted her own parents abt how the government doesn't care about zaun and the situation there, and then took it straight to the council. when jayce, her literal childhood best friend and basically a brother to her, now a councilor, ASKED HER IF SHE KNOWS WHO MADE ONE OF JINX'S BOMBS AND SHE WENT "no, well, uh-" because vi held her hand. she asked him, in front of everyone, "what happened to you" when he suggested using hextech to invade zaun.

even when vi got sick of trying to change things through the council, caitlyn kept telling her there must be another way and they just needed to make a new plan. oil and water, vi said, and that she was stupid to think it would work, but caitlyn's response was, what about us? what about the actual people, not their value as representatives of a group, a stereotype, one of many indistinguishable units? we aren't oil and water.

ppl say she used to view zaunites as just "creeps, crooks and villains" and after seeing more from them through vi, she changed it to "innocent helpless victims", which obv is dehumanizing since you don't recognize a person's capability for both good and evil and only see them as a stereotype. but she's always recognized both kinds of people exist in the undercity and that being "good" or "bad" isn't that simple. ppl seem to be mad she didn't try and dismantle piltover's entire police force like that would be possible or a solution to zaun's problems. she has a strong moral compass and a sense of justice - innocents should be protected and criminals prosecuted, zaunites or topsiders. if you steal, you should go to jail. but when you come from the dark alleys of zaun and poverty and deprivation is all you know, you're way more likely to steal, and when enforcers are prejudiced against you, you're more likely to face excessive violence and maybe serve a longer sentence. and this is why she tells the council that there are good people down there, that there is rampant poverty, famine, a drug problem, etc. her focus is on the daily humanitarian struggles of the average people.

you guys will twist yourselves in knots to make excuses for jinx, justify her actions and forgive her for what she's done (when she literally, aside from murdering a bunch of people and destroying a fuckton of stuff because she was insane, unstable and uncontrollable, literally directly prevented zaun from getting sovereignty by blowing up the council) but you don't recognize caitlyn's entire change in character started when jinx tried to blow her up multiple times, kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, blew up the council killing her mother and then (this wasn't jinx but caitlyn doesn't know that) turned the councilor memorial statue reveal to a massacre. see: this very accurate post.

"caitlyn never took her uniform off" well maybe because she was scared of jinx, paranoid, angry, grieving her mother, seeking justice and buckling under the pressure of becoming head of house kiramman. perfectly normal reactions considering the circumstances. she even acknowledged to jayce how upsetting it was to realize this hate she harbored for jinx had started to undo a lot of the work she did towards understanding the undercity and zaunites better and seeking to help them. but i believe she thought jinx was a hazard to them too.

i have a whole other post diving into this, as well as why she wanted vi to "put on a uniform" (temporarily until they caught jinx, and not just bcuz she thought vi was "one of the good ones" but bcuz she wanted her close, under her protection and equipped w/ all resources and privileges available to piltover, not to mention ppl are seriously undermining the fact that vi played a role in that conflict too) and why she made the mistake of going too far in her pursuit of jinx - most notably becoming rougher and jailing people, poisoning the air as a battle tactic, endangering isha, hurting vi, assuming the commander position and pursuing jinx even harder. but this post isn't about that, it's about other ways in which she metaphorically took off her uniform, and even the way she wore it.

caitlyn wasn't happy as a commander, she wasn't going on a power trip, she didn't "become a dictator all too willingly" like ppl are saying. and yes, that doesn't mitigate the damage she did to zaun but she had clear goals she was pursuing, none of which involved harming innocents (but protecting them), and she even confronted ambessa when she thought her right hand was out of line, which caused tension between them. though blinded by a desire for revenge, she remained concerned with the undercity's state and realized ambessa was manipulating her, even saying something like "why is peace always a justification for violence?" to her. the cost of what she was doing was too much for her. all things considered, commander caitlyn wore her uniform in the best possible way.

and she took it off as soon as she saw what was on the line. vi's father turned monster would go berserk when injected by singed, innocents would be ripped to shreds, and he'd be captured and used as a weapon by ambessa (against the undercity or whomever). for all of these reasons, caitlyn betrayed ambessa. she double crossed her, and the way she acted it out matters, not just because vi, who she'd decked the last time she saw, called her "cupcake". but because it was the right fucking thing to do.

i have a separate post about caitlyn's implied guilt about the things she'd done, about her knowing she couldn't undo those mistakes. this is what made her so desparate to try to make up for them that she not only send the guards away so vi could free jinx (another brilliant analysis here), but it also resulted in the way she fought ambessa tooth and nail alongside mel - like she had a death wish. she, a sniper, sacrificed her eye so she could remove ambessa's talisman by cutting it free with the dagger she took out of her own side. and even in the very end, when she asks vi if she's still in this fight, it could be interpreted as the fight for zaun too since she gave sevika, a zaunite, an ally of jinx, her mother's councilor seat.

so don't fucking talk to me about how she "never took her uniform off" for vi, when she's done that so many times metaphorically (and their last scene is literally one of the very few in the entire show where she isn't wearing any insignia), and she's done it for zaun too. and maybe even more so than that - it's how she wore it that matters. what she did with her privilege and her power - her character and agency.

season two is at fault for mismanaging the piltover/zaun conflict and not focusing on it enough in its latter half, as well as also not showing any proper longer caitvi conversations that might've taken place, in favor of... glorious evolution alien robots??

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Pt2

Where did you sleep last night?

The hours pass in a blur after I leave, but I find myself standing outside the apartment again, staring at the door as if I could get the answers I need into existence. The cold night air wraps around me like a shroud, but it feels empty, like everything else around me. The silence between us has become unbearable, and now it feels like a weight I can't shake off, pressing down on my chest with each breath I take.

Maybe I should leave.But something keeps me rooted to this spot. The questions I've been asking, the ones that have gnawed at me for weeks, refuse to let go. Where did you sleep last night, James?

And then, as though the world itself is pushing me toward the final confrontation, I hear footsteps. I turn, and there he is—James, looking lost, his face pale under the streetlights. He's come for me, and I don't know if I'm relieved or terrified.

"Y/n..." His voice cracks like ice, fragile and uncertain. "Please. We need to talk."

I can feel the ache in his words, but it doesn't warm me. It only reminds me of the coldness that has taken root in my heart. I've been here before, standing in this silence, waiting for him to come back to me. But now, maybe I could know the truth.

"Do you want to talk, James? " I reply, my voice quiet but firm. "Now, you're going to tell me everything."

He hesitates, his eyes flickering like he's not sure where to begin. He opens his mouth, but it's the silence between us that speaks louder than any of his words. Finally, he takes a shaky breath and blurts it out, "I've been seeing someone else. For months."

The air around us grows colder, as if the very world is drawing away from us. I can almost feel the chill deep in my bones, a numbness settling over me that isn't just from the cold night. I feel like I'm standing in a place where the sun will never shine, where warmth and comfort are nothing but distant memories.

"You've been seeing someone else," I repeat, the words tasting foreign in my mouth. I've been asking myself this question for so long, and now that I have the answer, it doesn't feel like relief. It feels like a weight too heavy to carry.

"I never meant for it to happen like this," he says, his voice hoarse. "I didn't want to hurt you. But I couldn't stop it. It wasn't just one night. It's been months, and I've been hiding it from you."

I can hear the apology in his voice, but it doesn't matter. The damage is already done. "You didn't think that you could hurt me? You thought you could keep lying to me, keep telling me you were out of town while you were with her?" "I was stupid to wait hours, alone, staying awake waiting for you to arrive!" I yelled, my throat was burning now, that knot of pain inside me was already burning with hurt, but by now, I didn't care anymore.

He flinches, guilt flooding his eyes, but he doesn't answer. He can't. There's nothing left to say.The coldness of the night presses in around us, sharp and biting. And somewhere, deep inside, the words I've been avoiding spill out before I can stop them. "Where did you sleep last night, James?" The question feels like an echo of something deeper, something that's been with me this whole time.

He looks at me, his face pale, a look of regret clouding his features. "I...wasn't out of town, I slept....I slept with her" His words fall away, the air thickening between us. I've been asking the same question over and over in my head—where did he sleep last night?—but now the answer doesn't bring peace. It only makes the emptiness inside me feel deeper. Like I've been walking in the dark, searching for warmth, but all I've found is the cold, a cold that chills me to the bone.

I blink, trying to force my mind to catch up with the reality that's settling into my bones. But my chest feels heavy, like a knot tightening in the pit of my stomach.I swallow hard, the burn in my throat spreading like fire. How could you? The thought rings in my head, louder than anything he's said. But I can't speak it. I can't bring myself to say anything. Not yet.

I stagger back, my legs unsteady, my hands shaking. The taste of betrayal lingers on my tongue, sour and bitter, but it's nothing compared to the physical ache in my chest. "Y/n?" His voice is full of uncertainty, like he's not even sure if I'm still there. But I don't answer him. I can't. The words get stuck in my throat, trapped by that knot that feels like it's going to choke me.

I try to focus on the cold air outside, on the way the wind cuts through me, but even that can't numb the pain inside. I look at him, his face twisted with regret, and something inside me cracks wide open. "How could you do this to me, James," I whisper, my voice trembling, "All this time, I've been waiting for you to come home. But now... now I know. "And you were in her arms, while I, like a fool, waited for you to come home

His eyes widen at my words, but I don't care anymore. The heat in my chest spreads, and the sting of it mixes with the numbness in my limbs. It's as though my body is betraying me, not knowing whether to burn with anger or freeze in shock.

The tears are coming now, but they don't feel like they belong to me. They belong to the girl I once was—before all of this. Before I ever thought I could trust him."I never thought... I never thought this would happen. Not with you, James," I whisper, as if the confession is a quiet exhale, escaping despite myself. "Not with you."

He takes a step forward, but I back away, shaking my head. "Don't come any closer. I can't—I can't—look at you anymore." I step back, the distance between us widening. The world outside feels like a frozen wasteland now, a place where the sun never shines, where I'm left to shiver through the cold night. I don't know where we go from here, or if there's even a way back from this. But the warmth I once felt for him has vanished, replaced by something much colder.

"Y/n...pleas-"

"You don't fool me anymore. Don't say you're sorry or something else because it's not true,you're only a good liar." I say, the words heavy on my tongue.

James stands there,his face a mix of regret and guilt, but the ache in my chest won't let me soften. I know I'll never be able to look at him the same way again. His words falter, but he doesn't reach out to me. The space between us feels like an ocean, vast and impassable. And as I turn away, I can almost hear the echo of those words—Where did he sleep last night?—the ones that have haunted me, the ones I should have asked sooner.

But it's too late now.

The cold wind blew, I turned around and I started walking, knowing that I'm walking away into a place where the sun doesn't shine. The warmth is gone. And I don't know if I'll ever find it again.

[nethermite]

dnf visiting each others animal crossing islands and just chasing each other around with nets and axes for 2 hours straight laughing the whole time doing weird emotes at each other

[queerstudiesnatural]

i think my brain should be studied i'm being fr

[autisticlee]

have realized the way my sister talks to me is a trauma trigger and I can't escape it because no matter what I do she still talks to me that way and i've told her to stop because I hate it and it makes me feel horrible so please try to talk to me differently. but she just rolls her eyes and continues to say worse things. she gets to live her best life and be happy because the way she treats me doesn't affect her at all, while I have to spend the next week with trauma related flashbacks and rumination and feeling like shit against my will. and she doesn't care. it's my problem that she's my problem! she doesn't need to take responsibility for anything! she grew up being taught she's invincible and can treat me like shit and never get punished. she learned to fake cry and get me in trouble. no one believes me or cares. i'm the bad kid and she's a perfect angel. because of that, my parents don't care and tell me to "ignore/get over it"

IF CURING TRAUMA WAS EASY AS DECIDING TO GET OVER IT– 😒

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[doodlboy]

A day part 2

[girlivealwaysbean]

it's been a year since i lied to you and told you that yes ive moved on so can we please be friends again. can you really blame me? i thought getting good at suppressing our memories from that one month meant moving on. i didn't know that i would feel a lump in my throat when you called me suddenly in the middle of a sunday even tho the plan was to talk once a week and we had talked only 3 days before. i didn't know i would feel butterflies in my stomach when i heard your laugh so close to my ear, but can you really blame me for being reminded of you giggling talking about the logistics of kissing on your study table?

but it's been another year since we've talked on the phone. those memories are so distant and blurry and full of light and happiness that i can't even believe they happened to me, it feels like they happened to a different person. so you don't have to worry, because ive moved on now.

remember when i used to tell you that i miss you so much i can't think about anything else, that i spend all my day reading our old chats? and you used to say, you need to stop and there are other people in the world? well, you don't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable now. i passed the exam i failed because i was too heartbroken over you. i go to tuitions and then i go to internship and i come home so late that all i do is eat and sleep. ive been doing better these days.

and you were right, there are other people in the world. but do you know, i asked a girl to come watch barbie with me, and she made a disgusted expression and said she'd already watched it and she hated it? this happened after we shared a coffee and realising we live next to each other and finding out that she watches kdramas and i listen to kpop. so surprising isn't it? someone who probably understands toxic masculinity and gender roles are fucked up still has internalised misogyny in her? nobody can compare to you, you lecturing me about feminism in tenth standard and your little book club with assigned reading as a thousand splendid suns and you having tears in your eyes showing us harry styles with pride flags in his concerts and you being mean and blunt saying i need to talk about my internalised homophobia. im starting to think you were one in a million and i was a fool to lose you, and an even bigger fool to have had you back and then lose you again.

but do you understand now? you told me you didn't, two years ago. i asked you, don't you understand that i was going crazy dealing with my psychotic family and i was depressed and tired and couldn't talk? and you said no, you're sorry, you really don't, you don't understand how someone can not share why they're sad to the person they supposedly love the most in the world. as i was writing this, daylight by taylor swift started playing. ironic, isn't it? there are many memories ive tried to erase from that one month, but this one i cannot forget- me coming into your room the night we planned and asking you if you're sure about this and is this like an experiment thing a oh what's kissing like thing or is it a we're in love with each other thing, and you smiling softly and saying girl yes i am sure it is one hundred percent a we're in love thing.

ive been getting better at sharing my sadness with my loved ones. my parents haven't stopped fighting, my dad shouted at my mom today morning because my brother lost the car keys, but it's okay, ive learned to tune it out. he only lives here for half a month, he stays somewhere else the other half so it's been easier to bear. my sister moved out, finally. ive been sad because of it but i know she's obviously happier there so it's okay. we have a neighbor and they have this tiny tiny annoying si kid she always comes to her house after her mom scolded her to sulk and watch tv with us. how is your little sister doing? i think of her when our neighbor devil comes. and how is your mom doing? are they settling in well to the new city? and how are you doing? have you been okay? we don't have to be exes trying to be friends again. but can't we just be childhood friends (if age 15 was childhood) who drifted apart briefly but found their way back to each other? please?

but it's okay, if we can't. cause like i said, ive moved on.

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Eighteen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader - AO3 - 3.1K words Tags: 18+ mdni. nurse!reader. Sexual content. Pregnancy and things that come with it. Brief mention of options in relation to termination of pregnancy. PTSD. Heavy emotions. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence and miscarriage, suicidal ideation. This is mostly inner monologue. Feelings of anxiety, despair, fear. This part is a little shorter due to its emotional nature.

There’s no oxygen.

No room for your lungs to expand, nothing for you to suck into your chest and relieve the ache blooming in your bones.

You drift, unmoored, a sailboat with no rudder, no engine to save you in an ocean without a breeze. All you can do is follow the current, the one leading you back to the dozen HCG strips buried in the bottom of a trash can, faint pink lines buried in the membranes and the matter of your brain.

The midwife that squeezed you in confirmed it all with a blood draw.

“You have options.”

“I know.”

There are resources, and education for you…  though I know you’re probably aware.”

“Yup.”

“Depending on your decisions, we’d like to see you in about two weeks for an eight-week ultrasound.” You gulp. The air is tragically thin in this room, and the paper crinkles under your uneasy weight.  

“Okay.”

When Simon appears in the main lobby for the usual trek home, you barely hold back the urge to vomit all over his shoes. Your legs are weak, trembling with each step forward, and you hold his hand so tight, your bones ache.

Sensitive as always, he lingers alongside you in the quiet, biding his time before slicing through your silence. “What is it sweetheart?”

“Huh?” You’re already on the front doorstep, memory of the entire trip evaporated.

“Do you still not feel well?”

“Oh, yeah.” The lie is toxic, sludge stuck in your bloodstream, clogging your capillaries until they burst like fireworks. “It’s my stomach.”

“Pen’s still under the weather too.”

“Poor thing.” The words are numb. Your mind is numb. Your body is a livewire and exhausted, all at once, the push and pull almost knocking you onto the floor. In the kitchen, Johnny wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in for a kiss, but nothing registers.

“Maybe you should get some rest.”

“Yeah.” Autopilot. That’s the gear you’re in. Going through the motions, trying to hold yourself together, keep your head above water.

Is this real?

Is this happening?

What will they say?

What will they think?

“Bunny?” Johnny’s thumb is on your carotid, where your pulse beats. Where your heart pushes blood through your circulatory system, flowing to a presence now fluttering inside you.

One plus one equals two.

“Sorry, yeah. Think I’m gonna go up, take a nap.”

“Yell if ye need anything, aye?” All you can do is nod.

You gravitate towards the guest room before you can stop yourself. It’s as you left it, bed made, sheets crisp, remnants of your things separated into easily sorted piles. In the nest of blankets, it’s easy to pretend. Easy to imagine the bed as a cloud of cotton candy, so high in the sky, above the earth, above this… this thing that is happening.

An embryo. Something two millimeters long, siphoning its existence from yours.

That tiny sliver of hope is nowhere to be found, replaced now with logical, realistic questions.

Can you sustain a pregnancy, after the damage inflicted during the last one?

Can you carry one to viability?

Can you mentally, emotionally, physically handle a pregnancy?

An infant?

And what about them?

What about you?

You think about the times you wanted to die. The moments you sat in the shower, streams of red running to the drain, a clump of cells you never knew draining from your body with each second.

A loss you never knew you’d mourn. Something stolen. Something slipping through your fingers, handfuls of sand blown away by a sea breeze.

The overwhelming feeling of drowning every time you laid on the floor in a broken heap, synapses misfiring, making wrong connections, desperately trying to latch onto anything normal, anything sane. Staring at the ceiling, slow flow of blood dripping down your throat, left wondering if this will be it, this will be the moment it goes too far. Your spine will snap. You’ll take a blow to the head strong enough to render you unconscious, permanently. Your windpipe will be crushed, closing in on itself, starving your brain of oxygen. In those moments, you could only hope.

You’re grateful, at least, that you don’t feel like that now.

In a cocoon on a cusp of hazy sleep, you’re cradled to a chest, jostled lightly until blankets are tucked back up around your shoulders and snuggled between two warm bodies, a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

“Our sweet girl,” Simon murmurs in the dark, “we’re here. Whatever it is, we have you.”

A dream.

You sleepwalk through life. One week turns to two, and then three. Three weeks turn to four, and more, before you know it, you’re twelve weeks pregnant, still going through the motions, robotically making your way through each day. You’re shoving the waterfall of feelings and emotions so deep, so far away, they’re likely to never see the sun again.

You lock them in a box.

You bury it in a grave, six feet under.

At work, you’re grateful you know your job inside and out, because you’re mostly just going through the motions. The only time you show any sign of life is when your boss tries to float you to the NICU. When you dig in your heels, repeatedly denying the request, she finally gives up and moves onto a new unsuspecting victim.

Better them than you.

At home, its worse. You don’t know if you’re imagining the tension or if its truly there, eggshells crumbling beneath your feet, words turned to ash. You’re a marionette, fate pulling the strings, tearing the joints of your limbs in a million directions.

They can tell. They read you too well, but you’re not so easily swayed. Simon tries to coax it gently; Johnny tries to bluntly force it out. Both tactics fail, but they themselves stay steady, and true, holding you in the night, soothing you with touch and whispers, loving you through it all.

During the day, they coddle you. Johnny massages your shoulder, tips your chin back until your skull rests on collarbone, dots kisses all over your skin. He tugs you onto the patio, curls up on the outdoor loveseat with you under a big blanket, your head in his lap, telling you stories about his childhood, his parents. He makes you giggle by reminiscing of all the times he chased Simon around at work, how Kyle fell out of a helicopter, how they had to wear suits for an undercover op one time and Simon's ripped right down the ass.

Simon cooks, all your favorites, things you forgot he pays attention to, and spoons you on the couch, big arm like a safety net stretched across your chest to keep you close. He brings tea to bed, reading until your eyes close, calming your mind enough to lull you to sleep.

Even at night, they treasure you like glass. Johnny lays on his stomach, thumbs rubbing circles into your thighs, parting them, backs of his knuckles tracing over the seam of your pussy, coaxing your arousal, taking his time. He licks your clit so slowly its torture, all the while Simon tugs your knee as wide as he can, hand fisted in the mohawk, kissing you from shoulder to neck, over and over.

You beg them to fuck you hard, harder than you’ve ever asked for it before. Johnny jumps at the idea, but Simon kills it immediately.

“No,” he traces a line over the curve of your ass to the creases of your thighs, “that’s not going to happen, sweetheart. Not until you tell us what’s going on.” You opt to bury your face in his chest instead and ride Johnny’s hand as Simon coaches, telling you how good you are, how lucky they are, how much you mean to them.

If only they knew. Would they still feel the same?

It’s more than you deserve, you think. More than you know how to handle. The guilt piles onto your shoulders. You’re carrying a life, a life you created with them, a life they should know about.

The decisions waiting in the wings haunt you at every turn.

What should you do? What will you do?

You should tell them. They should know.

Why are you keeping this a secret?

The time is passing too fast, and with it, your panic increases, forcing your back to bow, hands clutching at your legs, head hanging heavy to the floor. At work in the closet, at home the moments you’re alone, the agony steals your breath, heart shredding to pieces. It overcomes you, floods your nervous system until the world spins.

In the shower, you fall apart, truly, knees slamming into tile, your shoulders slumped against the wall.

It’s hard to tell you’re crying with water streaming over your face.

You lose your shit the day Penny crawls across the couch to cuddle you.

She pulls herself up onto your belly, her head resting on your chest, chubby hands fisted in your shirt.

“Bunny wead?” She wants a story, a routine the two of you enjoy together, turning the pages of a children’s book and acting out all the voices. She’ll squeal with glee, her laughter full of excitement, and you’ll tickle her sides while pretending to eat her foot.

It makes you both happy, but today, it splits your soul in two.

You burst into tears. She jolts back, looking up into your face, little brow furrowed in confusion, mouth shocked into a circle.

“Bunny.” She pats your cheek, alarmed, and you skim your nose across the top of her head, breathing her deep, anchoring your arm around her back. She’s starting to get upset, too perceptive, too empathetic, already expressing the traits of both her parents. You try to soothe her distress.

“It’s alright.” Your voice cracks on the promise, her nose pressed to your throat. “It’s alright, Penny. I’m sorry. Everything’s okay.” Johnny’s unmistakable gait sounds on the stairs, still slightly off balance, and you hastily wipe your face, forcing your eyes to his as he approaches the couch.

“What’s wrong?” He sees it immediately, and you shake him off with another lie, so many little white ones rotting into blinding despair.

“I had a bad day at work yesterday, that’s all. Just still trying to process it.” His head cocks.

“Ye sure?”

“Yeah, promise. I’ll be fine.”

The tide changes at work.

A man lies in a medically induced coma, barbiturates keeping him in the dark, a suspended state of uncertainty. His wife waits, and waits, fixes her too keen eyes on you every time she sees you, waiting for an update, good news, anything. Anything that could bring her peace.

On the second day of your work week, your steps stutter at the sight of her sitting bedside, a baby in her arms, gentle words floating between them.

“We’ve moved onto ba now, for a bottle, which is just crazy,” she murmurs, a hand under her cheek, wiping away tracks of tears, “and I think he’s too big for me to carry around at this point.” There’s a wet chuckle, and the baby tips forward, smacking his hand on his dad’s. “Is that daddy?” She bounces him, quiet as he babbles and gurgles, his eyes wide at the sights and sounds in a hospital room.

You clear your throat. She startles.

“Oh god, sorry… I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay,” Intruding on private moments is not uncommon, though here it feels different. “I just need to check on some things and then I’ll be out of your hair.” She nods, and outside of the baby’s noises, the room is silent until she breaks it with a whisper.

“I know there’s probably no chance he can hear me,” her fingers stroke through his hair, a pained look on her face, “but I like to believe he can.”

“There’s no definitive research that he can’t,” you tell her softly, carefully going about your work to avoid disturbing them.

“I hope he can hear the baby. He’s… he’s missed so much already, you know?” She sniffles, tears freely falling, and your heart clenches. “We’re broken without him; I’m broken without him. He’s my family, my everything. I can’t… we’re not supposed to be apart. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You have thick skin. You’ve seen countless people die. Consoled hundreds of family members. Held hands with patients taking their last breath.

This shouldn’t bother you. It shouldn’t affect you in any way, but when you look at your patient, and his partner, and his child-

All you can see is your boys and their unconditional love. Simon sitting vigilant at Johnny’s bedside. Johnny’s tears when he finally woke up. The fear in Simon’s eyes when Johnny seized, the trust he placed in your promise to take care of him. Penny in his arms as soon as he was strong enough to hold her. Their resolve to hold their family together, their dedication to you through it all. The three of them, a family, now yours, spun together with string stronger than steel, connecting the four of you for the rest of your life.

You’ll make it through. You’ll all make it through. You have their love shining down on your face. The love strong enough to hold you tight, rock you through your nightmares, encourage you to grow, to be yourself, to let it all go.

And they have you. Your love. Something you never thought would exist again, fostered and enticed forward, magnified for them. For the first time, you’re able to give to someone, to comfort them, care for them the way they have for you, hold them tight through their pain, their fears. It’s never felt so…

right.

It’s not one plus one. It’s five. Five hearts, making a family.

You know, without a doubt, they’ll love this baby. They won’t leave your side. They’ll take care of you, they’ll nurture you both, they’ll be solid, and supportive, and patient through it all.

You don’t need them to say it, and you don’t need to be scared.

Their light soothing your despair, healing the deep embedded scars, their warmth of the sun-

The little sunbeam growing inside you.

“You’re a few weeks late.” The midwife shakes her head as you settle on the exam table. You showed up in a whirlwind again, convincing her to fit you in between appointments.

“I know, I… I was struggling with it, but I feel better now. I’m… ready.” Your lips quirk at the corners, and she smiles in return.

“Should we take a look then?” You nod with a deep breath.

The jelly is cold, and she purposefully keeps the screen turned away from you, clicking, measuring, assessing in silence. It's standard policy for any employee or medical professional. Though you're not an ultrasound tech, it's not outside the realm of possibility that you could read the image on the screen before she can tell you gently that something is wrong.

Your past haunts you, taunts you, convinces you this has all been for nothing. You’re too damaged for this. Your body is broken. He took too much.

Still, you hope. You cling to a future, a vision, Penny holding the baby with Johnny’s arms supporting her, Simon half asleep with a burp cloth on his shoulder, little one asleep on his chest.

“Alright,” she turns it back for you to see, her expression colored with kindness. “Everything looks great, honey.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. Placenta is in optimal position, and baby is right on track developmentally for twelve weeks.” She twists a knob, the volume, filling the room with sound of galloping hoofbeats.

The heartbeat.

“Oh my god.” Your hand clasps over your mouth and you desperately try to bring air in through your nose, filling your diaphragm, staving off a river of tears unsuccessfully. She hands you a tissue.

“I’ll get you some printouts, okay?” You can’t do anything but choke on a thank you.

You slip away after your appointment, crossing through the halls leading to the out-patient wing where you’ll find Johnny in physical therapy, Simon in a chair scrolling through his phone just outside. The smile stretches across your face naturally, joy bursting at the seams.  

It's a new day, a new moment to turn away from the darkness and step into the sun.

You’re nearly skipping, heart so full, overflowing with hope, with happiness, your hands trembling, pictures of the scan clutched in your fingers. You hold them so tight, close to your chest, afraid they may disappear, be lost.

In hindsight, the crippling agony and fear you’ve been holding in seems so foolish now. It’s easy to curse yourself for the doubt, for the despair, but the path you took to get here, to be present in this moment, moving forward, was worth it.

They love you, and they’ll love little sunbeam. Penny will be the best big sister. You’ll make new memories, together, build the beginning of this life into a forever. Everything will work out; you can feel it now. You’ve shed the dented armor, the walls, the fence topped with barbed wire. The girl in the mirror, gone. It’s all crumbled down. With Johnny. With Simon. Your family.

A family of five.

You round the corner with your hands knitted together, a flimsy effort to still them, elated and barely able to hold your secret in. You won’t be able to do a cute announcement, won’t be patient enough to do something special like get Penny a shirt that says, “best big sister” even though you’d like to.

You’ve kept it from them for long enough. You need them to know.

You look for Simon first, expecting him to be waiting outside the door, but when he's not there, you glance around, and then peek into the observation window to find the physical therapy room empty.

Where are they? Where-

They’re at the end of the hall, talking to someone out of sight. Simon has his arms crossed, his body angled partially in front of Johnny, who shifts his weight onto his good leg. They’re both wearing serious expressions, Simon’s the most severe, and then Johnny’s lips twist into a grim sort of smile.

Whoever they’re talking to steps forward, and your heart burns into ash, falling through the floor to bottomless depths of darkness.

Phillip.

[sage-nebula]

This has been spinning around in my head since I watched season 2 arc 1, and I can't refrain from putting it down to post anymore.

In season 1, Jayce and Viktor get into a fight when Viktor evades the blockade to go speak to Singed in Zaun. During their fight, Jayce snaps at Viktor that he didn't know that Viktor's friend was from the undercity, and when Viktor asks why that matters, Jayce says the above: [people from the undercity] are dangerous (earlier he had also said, "there are people down there who seem hell-bent on destroying us!"). That's when Viktor grows cold, reminding Jayce that he is from the undercity, and even after Jayce apologizes, Viktor knocks his hand away, choosing to stand up on his own.

In season 2, chembarons hired by Ambessa (though no one knows that at the time) attack the memorial for the dead council members. In the aftermath, Caitlyn calls them animals. Notably, Vi shows no reaction at all to this; she doesn't so much as flinch at Caitlyn's word choice. Instead, while she does downplay what happened to an extent ("they wanted the spectacle, they're trying to scare you"), what's notable is that she separates herself from the people of Zaun. This is especially notable when she tells Caitlyn to call off the invasion, because of the risk it poses for those not from Zaun:

"Down there, you'll be on their terms."

Viktor seems to have pride in the fact that he is from Zaun. He has love for his home. As difficult as life was there, as much as the pollution led to his illness and disability, he has no shame that he's from Zaun and he still sees value and has love for the people there. This is why, when Jayce writes the Zaunites off as "dangerous", Viktor grows cold. He is no different from them, in his mind; if they're dangerous, then so is he.

Vi is . . . different.

In season 1 arc 1, Vi expresses to Vander that she has bought into and believes that those in Piltover are more than those in Zaun:

Now, here, Vi is still grouping herself in with the rest of Zaun. But there is a level of self-hatred (and hatred for one's home) that we don't see in Viktor. Viktor doesn't see himself as lesser than those in Piltover. He doesn't see the Zaunites as lesser than those in Piltover. Vi, however, does. She states this as if it is a fact. And while she loved her family, and has parts of Zaun that she likes (e.g. Jericho's food), it's worth noting that at the end of season 1 episode 1, she isn't telling Powder that they'll liberate Zaun, or fight for Zaun, or anything like that. Instead?

"This city's gonna respect us." This city. Not our city. Here is the first moment we see in which Vi puts some separation between herself and the rest of Zaun. She wants to make them respect her (and Powder). Even if she's less than those in Piltover, she still sees an opportunity for herself to be above those in Zaun.

All of this is to say that, when she has no reaction to Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", when she refers to them as "they," when she refers to Zaun as "their terms" . . . ultimately, it isn't too surprising. Vi represents a type of person who does exist in marginalized groups: the self-hating type, who hate others in their group for "drawing aggression" or "negative attention."

Think about queer people, for instance, who hate those who are flamboyant or open about who they are and who they love. The ones who think, "If we just assimilate more, be less of a bother, be less obnoxious, then the queerphobes will accept us." Obviously, other queer people find this type of person extremely frustrating, sometimes even infuriating, because we know that it doesn't matter what we do or how we act; bigots will never accept us.

But what we should understand, and extend compassion for, is that self-hating marginalized people are that way because it's a defense mechanism -- a survival mechanism, really. They can't square why bigots hate them, so they reach for any kind of explanation they can find, even if that explanation ultimately blames others in their own group and does more harm than good. Not to mention that hating yourself for who you are is often a result of long-term, systemic abuse -- the exact same kind of abuse that comes from living under an oppressive regime that murdered your parents and will assault you at any given opportunity, even for something as petty as your little sister miming shooting them with finger guns.

Vi says that she, "grew up knowing [she] was less than them." This is extraordinarily damaging to the psyche, and Vi's self-hatred -- and the extension of that hatred toward Zaun, not wanting to save them but wanting to make them respect her -- is a trauma response to that. One that Viktor, obviously, doesn't share (and neither does Ekko, or Jinx) -- but everyone reacts to trauma differently.

The point is, we saw shades of this already in Vi's childhood; her statement that she's less than topsiders, but that she wants those in the undercity to respect her. So when Caitlyn calls the Zaunites animals, Vi doesn't flinch. She agrees. And she speaks of them as separate from her, because Caitlyn has already designated her as one of the good ones (reinforced to her by what Maddie told her Caitlyn said right before the memorial), and because, well, those who attacked the memorial did do something horrible. And maybe if they wouldn't do that, and maybe if Jinx hadn't blown up the council building -- maybe if they were better behaved -- then the enforcers wouldn't have to invade and do what they were about to do, now would they? Those in Zaun -- or at least those in Zaun who decided to strike against Piltover -- brought it on themselves, so Vi isn't with them. She's with Caitlyn, and is okay with referring to them as animals.

It's interesting to think about.

[peapod20001]

Hope everyone is having a good Tuesday <3

[gor3sigil]

I’m Trans and Insane and I’m doing fine.

[TW Psychosis, transphobia, psychophobia, medication, psych ward]

“Are you sure ?” she asked.

I remember looking back at her in disbelief, because that was certainly a question I never asked her when she came out.

“Why do you ask ?” I say.

“Dude, I’ve seen you go into depersonalization so hard you even thought you were a human soul in a robot vessel and now, you want me to trust you when you say that you, too, are trans ?”

That’s the memory that comes back to me as I fold and put in my bag my psychiatrist’s note attesting that I suffer from gender dysphoria, NOT LINKED to any psychotic symptoms. Here it goes in my folder with my prescription note, an increase - again - of my anti depressants and Xan, and my endocrinologist’s HRT prescription, increased too - finally.

I go to two separate pharmacies to pick up each prescription for two reasons:

There is only one in this godforsaken town that always had testosterone in stock.

I can’t explain to you with words the look you can get when you give back to back, to someone who, despite not being a doctor, works in healthcare, a note for trans HRT and then a note for psychiatric meds.

And I’m lucky, because I’m not taking antipsychotics anymore. Contrarily to what you could think, it doesn’t magically makes the voices and the shadowy people disappear, but it can make a mess of your head pretty bad and my doctor and I both agreed that I didn’t need more damage up here than what I already had. And no, it doesn’t make your delusions vanish magically too: in fact, I was still pretty certain that I was talking to my soul family out here in Argentine telepathically about my mission on Earth, the meds just made it more difficult to understand their voices, but the belief was still solid.

Anyways, I’m back home with the Hoy Grail I fought tooth and nails to get: a letter from the Sacred Council of Mental Sanity also known as Psychiatry that I was, indeed, a bit delulu, but also trans, and that both things didn’t play into each other. My transness wasn’t a delusion, my delusions didn’t have anything to do with being trans.

Or did it ?

Chicken or egg, you know the drill. Did I have my selves fractured before and one of the piece that shattered my brain happened to make me trans or was I just trans with a shitload of traumas in the back that made me insane ?

But don’t worry, at least, trans people when we’re together, we have each other’s back ! Right ?

“Transidentity ISN’T a mental illness !! We don’t DESERVE to be FORCIBLY LOCKED UP and MEDICATED and MADE TO CONFORM FOR OTHER’S SENSE OF SECURITY !!”

Neither do I, RIGHT ?

Oh

Or do I ?

Remember what she said, my girlfriend, right at the beginning ?

How I can’t be trusted about myself when sometimes I don’t even have a sense of self anymore or I have too much selves who fight against each other ?

And what do we say to that ?

Get treatment. Get in-patient. Take medication. And for the love of God, shut the fuck up about it, you’re giving us a bad name.

Because being trans and crazy can’t exist. It’s absurd. You have to fix one of these two things. Choose which jacket I’ll wear, and they call it a straitjacket for a reason it seems, so am I queer or am I insane ?

All I know today is there isn’t a universe in which I’m a trans without any mental illnesses, or mentally ill without being trans. And yet, I can’t tell you how many time I got asked “do you think you’d be trans if you never got through [x trauma] ?”. I. Don’t. Know. I’ll never know. And I deserve just as much agency as you get despite being mentally ill. If you don’t believe in that, don’t come yapping about “liberation for all of us”, but “if one of us is crazy they’ll all think I am too and that can’t happen”.

No LGBTQIAA+ person deserves to be told they need to be put away, to be cured, to be allowed out in the open only if they’re deemed “acceptable” by society’s standards. And no mentally ill people deserve to either.

No trans person should be going through years of counseling to have the access to HRT.

And I shouldn’t have had to threaten my own mother’s life to avoid being locked in an adult psych ward at 14.

If you ever think, for one second, that these two things have nothing to do with one another, you are far removed from history.

To hear queer people say “yeah but some mentally ill people are dangerous !” feels like you don’t even know where you come from.

And if I want to say, that me being trans is linked to me being mentally ill, or at least, that both are connected in a way, all hell breaks fucking loose.

So I’ll explain very carefully.

See, when I was young, my mind got shattered into a thousand of pieces I had to try to glue back on. All these pieces of myself broke further more down the line because I couldn’t catch a fucking break. And now, it happens that the final puzzle does not have the same face it had before. It happens that its shape changed over time, for reasons over the control of all of us who tried to build ourselves back. Now there’s a bigger picture, less pieces, a few other shadows, and me. Built from the shatters. With my own needs and afflictions.

And whoever you are, whatever your agenda might be, I will not let anyone take any agency away from me under the false pretext that I can’t know anything for myself. They say that about children, they say that about minorities, about physically disabled people, about the people they want OUT. And my trans siblings, you know that.

I came out for the first time 7 years ago, to my then girlfriend, who was the one asking the question that is the first sentence of this text. I came out a second time 3 years ago. Been on HRT, had top surgery, had psychotic breaks, got my meds changed, switch therapist.

Because I am trans and crazy. And yet, all these choices I made, I made myself. It didn’t have to be that hard to get the basic care I needed. It didn’t need to be. But it WAS. And I’m part of the lucky crowd of people who had access to out-patient treatment, who never have been locked up in ward, who managed to stay alive through meds withdrawals without medical assistance when I had no therapist.

Be very careful of when you start to put conditions on the rights you think you deserve. Be very, very careful about your definition of sanity and of how it warps the way you see people. When you start to say “I have access to that, but there’s people like X or Y who shouldn’t BECAUSE”, pause and ask yourself what led you to think this way. More often than not, you’ll find yourself playing the same mind games as the ones you swore to fight against, and when it gives them the upper hand, they won’t hesitate to come for you after that.

[leah-lover]

Second chances.

Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Summary: new job, old friends , and memories your tried to forget. Will you be able to dodge the past as you navigate your new job?

“ More news arrived from the RFEF who have promised that they were going through a systematic change after the Luis Rubiales scandal. They have announced this morning the arrival of a new head coach to lead the women’s team in the upcoming euro cup which will be held in switzerland. The 33 years old coach came from the united states where she led her team to victory in the nwsl. Her name may sound familiar to you because she was a part of Vilda's coaching staff until she decided to step away for unknown reasons. Although she has never coached a national team before, the new RFEF president is confident she will heal wounds left by her predecessor mostré tomé and restore the team to its winning ways.” says the reporter on the TV. you were sitting on your couch listening to her talking about your new job with player’s files in your lap. The international break was in 7 days and you needed to get familiar with everyone and have a clear plan of your strategy. 

Being back in Spain brought back so many memories. You haven't come back since everything went down and you quit your job. You swore you would never come back to work with the RFEF however seeing everything unfold in the news you knew that agreeing to come back was more of a necessity than a choice. You loved the girls very much and you knew that they deserved better than what they got and you were adamant on giving them the best. Moreover, the new president was a woman you knew and was friends with. You trusted her and agreed to give her a chance. Besides Barcelona was the best city in the world, you couldn't pass up the chance to come back home. 

As soon as you accepted your position, you contacted old colleagues, ones that you knew you could trust,  and combined them with some of the existing staff that you were 100 percent sure were a safe fit for the new environment you were hoping to achieve and formed your new staff and announced it to the media. The fans were shocked at the amount of changes you made and their comments were very supportive of your decision which gave you a boost of confidence. 

All you were thinking about was this team. You held and attended meetings all day long. You practically lived on your desk but it was all worth it because it all led to this phone call you were pursuing since the day you got to barcelona. You waited in front of your laptop anxiously waiting for your star player to join the zoom call. Shortly after you see her face pop on your screen. 

“ hola.” you say enthusiastically. “ hola.” she replies. She looked much older since the last time you saw her, which was 4 years ago. 

“ Thanks for agreeing to this call. It  truly means a lot.” you say playing with a pen in your hands. 

“ yeah it wasn't easy but i thought why not hear you out.” she replied. 

“ So I am gonna get right to it. I want you to be back in the national team. You are the best center back i know, i want you to be in the te am, and you deserve to have a place in this team.” 

“ I see you haven't changed, you are still as honest as you were but I would have to decline.” responded mapi. 

 “ I am turning things around maria. You know me, you know my story, you know everything. This time is different. I came back to make things different. You watched everything happen in front of your eyes. Do you truly think I could make someone feel the way I felt back then?” 

Mapi stayed quiet, she was perhaps thinking about that night you decided to leave everything behind. The night the idea of las 15 was created. 

“ okay.” you hear her say. “ I will come to this camp.” you are overjoyed “ you wont regret it leon.” 

 Your happiness was cut short because you remembered that you had to do this 2 more times with pina and leila. After 2 very long phone calls you got them to trust you and to agree to the return to the national team. You then drafted the call up list and sent it to your assistant. 

The days leading up to camp went by quickly as your plans of the first steps towards rebuilding were coming to fruition. 

You were sitting in your office when  you heard a knock on the door, it was your assistant coach informing you that the players began   to arrive. A wave of nerves watched over you but that was to be expected. You were a part of this team before and you hoped they would welcome you back with open arms. You were wearing casual clothes so that you won't be seen as authoritarian. You settled for a white t-shirt, black pants and shoes, and you wore your hair down. Your objective was to appear normal and friendly to the members of the team you weren't familiar with. You headed straight for the conference room and waited for the first people to arrive. Shortly after that Irene walked through the door. You were instantly transported back to 4 years ago which is the last time you and the captain have spoken. You closed your eyes briefly to try and get the bad memories away and open a new chapter with the captain. You shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with her and the rest of the barca group but quickly moved on to the other members that had joined. After they were all settled in their chairs you noticed the absence of the person you were most afraid to see, alexia putellas. Before you accepted the job you wrote down a pros and cons list. The first reason you put on the pros was the paycheck and the glory. However for the cons the first thing you wrote down was alexia putellas’s name. Seconds after you thought about her she appeared. She was just as beautiful and charming as you remembered. She immediately came to you but without sharing eye contact with you. She went in to kiss your cheek as a way to say hello and you did too. She still smelled like before and her smell still had a magnetic power over you. She then took a seat next to Irene and you pulled yourself together again and started your presentation. 

“ Hello everybody and welcome. You all heard of me, some of you even were a part of my team when I was working here which feels like a lifetime ago. But in that lifetime this team has risen from the underdog to the most favored and feared team in the world. I am here to continue that legacy and help the team strengthen its roster. But I am also here to create an environment, a culture, and a safe space for you all.  You all are the best in Spain and you deserve to be treated like it. This culture I am trying to create involves no tolerance for homophobia, transphobia, racism, or sexism. I urge you to report any case of abuse or mistreatment from my staff or your teammates. I tried my best to employ people I trust and are advised to report anything that made you uncomfortable.  So Without further or do let's talk strategy.” 

You go over everything you expect from the team and how the strategy is going to change. You then instruct your team to go rest so that training may begin tomorrow at 9 am. 

On their way out you called for the captain to have a word with them. Once the room is empty you quickly say ” so you heard everything i said, i just want to make sure that you two know that i mean Plus the captaincy is going to change. Obviously, you two are the captain and vice. You can come with me with any concern or question about anything.my door is always open.  I am appointing jenni as the 3rd captain.” 

“ That wouldn't go over well with the federation,” said irene. 

“ Well, I don't care. They knew who they hired. Plus I don't play by their rules.” you respond. The captains share a satisfactory look with you although you haven't looked at either of their eyes, then leave. 

Your transition to head coach seemed to be seamless. The players were responding to your advice and strategies. The media seemed to be happy with the changes you made and especially with the arrival of mapi leon. The vibe of the club overall was great, and you were getting comfortable in your new spot. However, it was all about to change at the pro match press conference. The conference itself went great. You and the vice captain answered all the questions given to you without any mishaps. But once the media left and you were left alone with alexia,  you felt yourself suffocating so you quickly got up to leave.  

“ You can't avoid me forever,” said Alexia calmly. 

“ Who said anything about avoiding you?  The conference is done, so I am leaving. If you want to talk to me about anything, my office door is always open.” you say with a cold tone not bothering to look at her. 

“ You don't talk to me like you never do. Besides you won't even look at me." Alexia sounded sad. All you wanted was to take away all her pain but you couldn't. 

“ I talk like this to everybody.” you hear her get up and see her in front of you. Not looking her in her eyes  would prove her point, and doing it would rip you to shreds. You suck it up and look at her hazel captivating eyes. “ Happy now?” you respond. “ We can't continue like this, we have to talk about that night.” 

“ alexia there is nothing to talk about. I forgot everything that happened ,I moved on. I am your coach right now. If you have a concern about anything football related, come to my office.” you were lying straight to her face. You didn't move on or forget what happened. You just hoped your tough girl act would hold with her. 

Game Day was always fun for you but this time around it had a little nervousness attached to it since it was your introduction as the new coach. You started your day witha call from the RFEF board wishing you good luck and re-stating their confidence in you. You revised your strategy, confirmed you starting 11, and headed to the bus so that you would head to the stadium. You decided on a blue suit and let your hair down. You looked both masculine and feminine   which summed up your personality perfectly. 

Once you arrived at the stadium you gave the girls a motivational speech, headed to your seat in the sidelines and waited for the game to begin. You weren't a loud manager. You just sat there, observed the play and took notes. You trusted the girl’s judgment and gave them some autonomy when it came to the style of play which rewarded you with a goal in the 8th minute by aitana bonmati. The 1-0 unset turned into 6-0 by the 76th minute which made you proud of your debut. However it all turned into chaos when alexia putellas fell on the field. You panicked as the paramedics ran to her. You watched  intensely as they examined her and waited for the signal that informed you that you needed a substitution which you got almost immediately. Your heart broke for the recently healed midfielder but you had other things in mind. You called for Teresa Abelleira and subbed her in. The game ended in a 7-0 win. You shook hands with everybody, did an interview but the thought of alexia didn't leave your mind.  As soon as you were done you semi sprinted to the locker room. Once you got there you found irene. 

“ Is it the acl again?” you ask worryingly. 

“ No, it's just a muscle strain and her knee is acting up again.”  you breathe for the first time in an hour. 

“ This is happening because of you.” she says harshly.

“ Excuse me.” you couldnt believe what you heard. 

“ You shouldn't have come back here. You taking this job was a mistake. You have opened up an old wound and this is just the beginning.”

“ I am going to have to stop you right here. First,  I am your boss not your buddy from back in the day so you are going to have to take a step back and show some respect. Second, you have the nerve to talk to me about making mistakes  knowing that you ruined my life not too long ago.

“ She didn't sleep last night. That's why she got injured today. I am worried about my friend.” 

“ You should have thought about your friend 4 years ago.” you say as you enter the medic’s room leaving her behind. 

You found alexia with tape on her knee and achilles. Her eyes were closed so she didn't see you come in and sit next to her. 

“ I am willing to talk about that night this time only. Say everything you need but once I leave this room you are never going to bring it up again.” 

The only way to make it out is through. You thought.

[logaenhowlett]

THIS NIGHT HAS OPENED MY EYES - L.H.

Summary: Fate isn’t something Logan believes in. So what happens when he crosses paths with someone who has haunted his mind for nearly 50 years?

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, A desperate need to hug Logan

A/N: After weeks of pushing this fic aside, it's finally done. I'm happy with how it turned out, hope you enjoy! Title creds to The Smiths.

MASTERLIST

1983 - Alberta, Canada

Logan doesn’t stop running. Even after the soles of his feet turn an alarming shade of purple and blue, marring the once-soft skin with bruises and scars which will eventually fade away. Adrenaline carries him through the dense forest and its unforgiving terrain, but it’s fury - along with sheer horror - that courses through his veins. 

Red is all he sees. His heart thumps in his chest, feeling like an anvil dragging him into the earth. His breathing comes out ragged - the cold air, the newly metal-infused claws burning through skin - it all just becomes too much for him. The constant beat of dog tags hitting his chest echoes as he slices his way through the woods.

A million thoughts rush across his mind, none remaining in place long enough for him to grasp. Logan was never one to dwell on fantasies, always quick to shut down whatever illusions that little flicker of hope within him conjures. But now, he dreams of a world that isn't cruel, a world that doesn't wreck, shatter and destroy this innate sense of good he carries. A world that could never exist.

Glimpses of his childhood fight against the agonizing pain shooting through his body. For a brief second, Logan breaks free from the mental shackles of his survival instincts, enough for his mind to flood with memories he'd believed were lost to the disease of time. His knees falter as flashes of his mother, his father and even his brother momentarily hush the undying streams of insecurity and worthlessness that flow so deeply within him.

It's when he sees himself - that young child who dared to dream of a life worth living, a life he'd be proud to reminisce as he takes his last breath - he thinks it's the end. How would that little boy feel knowing this is what he'd become? A pawn in a game he'd never have a choice to deny.

His vision blurs, stinging in sorrow and heartbreak for his younger self. A tremble runs through his body and Logan wants nothing but to sink beneath the ground under his feet. To scream as exhaustion rips into his muscles, crumbling whatever resolve searing within. He'd give anything for it all to stop. The voices in his head to lull into a silence he desperately craves, even just for a second.

Fear was never something that infected him. Yet, at this moment, he truly is frightened. Terrified that he'd unknowingly sacrificed the only lingering shred of belief he held for himself and all that remains now is but a monster - a machine wired to do the very thing he refuses.

Logan thinks he's on the verge of crashing, to surrender to the plague poisoning his mind, body and heart. Just as he aches to cross that line, a soft gasp from someone nearby startles him. His eyes dart around, strides slowing down so abruptly that the sudden movement leaves his knees shaking. He can't even pull himself together long enough to properly focus on his surroundings, to absorb all the minute details he could once subconsciously catch.

His breath hitches as you reveal yourself, quickly studying you to determine whether you’re a threat. Even as the alarm in his head doesn’t ring, he’s still on edge when you approach warily. There’s just something about you he can’t quite detect.

“It’s okay… I’m not going to hurt you.” You whisper, hands raised.

Logan stares at you, tense and on high alert. Your gaze keeps dropping to the bloody claws between his knuckles, your expression twisting to one of shock and concern. His mind becomes a little hazy, the lucid part of him wants to run away, yet he's rendered frozen.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He hears you murmur once again, your hand slowly reaching towards him. The tone of distress in your words leaves Logan anxious, chest heaving in suspicion. A shiver rolls down his spine as your fingertips brush against his skin, goosebumps rising at the contact. Your eyes find his again, searching for any hint of resistance and when he gives no sign of hostility, you gently rest your palm against his shoulder.

The initial touch sends a current of sensations through his body. Immediately, a wave of calm washes over him and everything around him stills. Logan wills his mind to concentrate on the little bubble you seem to have created. And after what feels like forever, silence diffuses the noise in his head. A sob threatens to escape him as he grabs your wrist, he wants to say something, to question this strength you have over him, but he remains speechless.

He expects to recognise the unmistakable cast of terror across your features, staggering a little when he finds none. Not even the intimidating glare of the adamantium wavers your faith in him. And that realisation overpowers the gentle and soothing aura you seem to radiate. A broken hum cracks through the quietness, Logan drops your hand in an inexplicable panic. He shares one last look with you before sprinting off.

2029 - Eden, North Dakota

As the soft glow of light caresses his face, Logan shifts amongst the heap of blankets delicately wrapped around him. His muscles loosen in relief, finally content to rest after years and years of forcing him into overdrive.

There's a kind of weariness to him now, his movements slow, his healing even slower. He can't recall a time when his body wasn't fighting against him - against the adamantium. Pain becomes such an unceasing feeling that sometimes he doesn't register when one of his stitches pops open, blood staining his clothes with the reminder of his deteriorating state.

He sighs quietly, the conversation with Laura left a heaviness in his heart. Logan couldn't blame her, she’s a little kid after all, one presented with the chance of belonging to a makeshift family. But, he can't be the father she needs. The one she deserves. At least, that's what he tells himself. It's better that way, for her and for everyone who might get involved, to give them a fair shot at life untainted by his cursed touch.

Logan stops resisting his need for sleep, comforted by the fact that Laura's amongst her friends and away from danger for the time being. He drifts off almost instantly, the presence of someone in the room going unnoticed.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watch as his chest rises and falls, his soft breaths filling the air. He looks a lot older since the last time you saw him. Eyes a little sunken, wrinkles decorating skin, streaks of grey twisting into dark hair. Despite the physical changes, you can sense a weight that seeps so far into his soul, this aura of fatigue and defeat he exudes. God, he's so tired.

Feet moving at their own will, you slide onto the edge of the bed, tenderly running your hand along Logan’s arm. The slight shift of his expression as he subconsciously relaxes draws a small smile from you. Nightmares spare him this time.

Logan stirs awake a while later. As reality begins to settle once again, he stares at the ceiling, feeling a sort of peace and tranquillity that sparks only one memory. A brief encounter with a stranger who approached him with nothing but kindness.

The kids rush into the room, eager to see the hero they'd only read about in their comics. When has anyone ever been happy to see him? He wonders, uneasiness creeping into his thoughts.

"C'mon, let him rest."

It's the gentle tone yet one that carries a sway of authority that snaps his attention. The children hurry to leave, brushing past you in a fit of giggles as if they'd been caught doing something naughty.

Logan's eyes lock onto yours. His jaw twitches, chest caving as the realisation sets in. Of course, it's you. The reason why he'd felt such a lightness being here, his mind simmering in a state of serenity. The memory comes back in a sudden, the visions he's had of you throughout the years, ones that provided a fragment of bliss at times when he couldn't bear the misery - all of it comes back, overwhelming him.

Over decades, Logan convinced himself that you were but a figment of his imagination, concocted by his troubled mind as a last attempt at defence. As time went on, the mirage of you slowly dissolved. And now, here you are, standing in front of him - as real as he is. He sits, gradually lifting himself off the pillow, gazing at you in awe. You haven't changed at all.

"I can heal... like you." You offer, foreseeing the question that's lingering behind his lips.

He feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, all the dots in his head finally connecting. "You're one of us too." Logan says to himself, astonished, "That day - you did something to me."

Moving closer, you sink next to him on the bed, hand resting on his. A swell of tiredness spreads within him, he gasps under his breath at the sensation. It fades rather quickly, replaced by the inviting embrace of relief. Logan exhales softly, his expression riddled with wonder.

"I can't make you feel anything you don't already feel." Your whisper reaches him, "I can just... amplify it."

The fact sends jolts of shock through his body. Meaning, that day, you had found what little tendril of good he had so desperately clung onto. You saw it. You saw the good in him.

"I thought you weren't real."

Logan doesn't know why he's drawn to you. It just feels so natural to have you this close again - as if he'd found the missing part of himself he didn't know was tied to your soul. The voice in his head crawls to the forefront of his mind, polluting his desire to want you, to have you. He shouldn't be entertaining these wishes, everything he so hopelessly craves would just hurt you in the end.

"I wanted to find you," You tell him, sensing his internal battles, "But... I couldn't risk getting caught."

"Transigen?" He asks, despair slipping into his question.

The sound of laughter outside pulls your attention, "Gabriela. She told me about these kids. What happened... what those monsters did to them? I just - I couldn't let them fight this on their own." You see Laura in the distance, playing along with her friends. "She looks happy."

Logan follows your gaze, "I didn't... I didn't believe her. About this place." His voice wavers, the feeling of guilt clawing at him. He moves his hand away from yours, avoiding the flash of hurt across your face.

"You brought her here anyway. Some part of you hoped she'd be right." There you go again, managing to see the good in him. He shakes his head lightly, ignoring the choking weight in his throat. "You're not coming with us... I heard what you told her."

"Then you know why." He murmurs, eyes turning glassy.

"Logan - " You bring your hand to rest on his cheek, slowly turning his head, "I know you're not healing as fast... I can feel it." His eyes flick down to yours, a tangle of hesitation and longing behind them. "You don't have to give up - you don't have to be alone anymore."

Oh, how easy it would be to give in to you and the future you're promising. Yet, the shadow of agony looms over him. "I'm not meant for this - everyone around me dies." He spits out, angry at whatever higher being molded him this way - a man forever deprived of the simple pleasures of life. "I won’t let anyone else suffer because of me. The kids, Laura, you... you're better off on your own."

He shifts to lie down, too drained to continue this back and forth. The bed dips when you stand, a defeated sigh escaping you. As you’re about to leave, Logan's whisper makes you freeze.

"I'm not... whatever it is you think I am."

Sunlight beams through the windows, Logan scrunches his face as he rouses. It's oddly quiet, he notes, pushing himself off the bed. He takes a moment to focus his hearing on his surroundings - not a single soul around. A fit of coughs leaves him groaning, he stumbles his way outside, the raw intensity of the sun hitting him.

Empty is all he feels. A gaping crater in his heart as he understands what he'd given up by letting you slip away. Even Laura's absence strikes a chord, a small part of him had grown fond of the girl. He lets out a shuddering breath, this is what he intended. So why is every cell in his body yearning for your touch?

A swarm of drones fly overhead. Logan jerks his head at the noise, dread filling him once he sees the logo. He bursts into the room, searching for any medication to numb the pain burning through his organs. A green vial tucked away on the shelf gleams at him, he wastes no time, grabbing both the liquid and a needle before charging through the woods.

Everything within him seems to be on fire as he storms up and down the hills. He's out of breath in mere minutes, gasping for air while his lungs constrict. When the oxygen in his brain starts to diminish, Logan falls to the ground, coughing as his wounds reopen. His consciousness dances around the line between reality and illusion. Reaching into his pocket, he fumbles with the syringe, drawing the entirety of the vial - Rictor's warning rings in his head - and injecting the fluid.

It's almost rapid. The way the drug shoots through his bloodstream. Pupils blown wide, he roars, energy rushing into his veins. His legs carry him across miles towards the panicked screams of children and gunfire. Once the Reavers spot him, they direct their weapons at the bigger threat. Logan rips through them, unfazed by the bullets spraying everywhere.

Amongst the chaos and carnage, he spots you struggling against the soldiers' grasp. That momentary distraction sends him flying backwards as the impact of the railgun pierces his body. A primal rage erupts within him, his muscles throb violently, knuckles turning white. The effects of the drug wear off, knees buckling when he tries to stand, he collapses to the ground instead. His eyes glaze over, the wrath that had consumed him earlier now waning into hopelessness.

Laura stills in her tracks, her friends sprinting past her. "No! Run!" He yells, grunting. "Go to your friends, Laura." Logan stammers, knowing she can hear him.

He shuts his eyes for a second, every fiber of his being honing in you. With immense effort, he slowly rises, hand stained crimson while he clutches his stomach. He only moves a couple feet before he's knocked in the head.

X-24 glares at him ruthlessly, drawing his clawed-fist back to strike him again. Logan blinks wearily, catching the terror on your face as you attempt to escape from the soldiers' hold. An angry growl comes from somewhere behind him. Laura launches herself at X-24, slashing at him with all her strength. The clone staggers a little before grabbing her shirt and hurling her towards a tree.

The act makes Logan writhe in anger, but before he can attack him, X-24 lunges forward, extending his claws into Logan's side. Blood gushes out of him and your deafening scream is all he can hear. He doesn't know what's more excruciating - the pain or the look of sheer anguish on your face.

A bang echoes in his head. X-24 drops to the ground next to him, the remnants of a smirk on his half-exploded skull. Laura stands, a couple feet away, pistol in her hands. It's thrown away immediately as she runs to him.

The kids swarm around you, their collective powers thrusting the soldiers far away. In the corner of his eye, Logan sees you racing towards him. Weakly, he convinces Laura to go, to save herself. His words barely louder than a whisper as he gazes at her, pleading. She looks at you tearfully, torn between what to do. Muffled sounds of her friends calling her name reach her ears and with a heavy heart, she goes after them.

"Logan!"

You fall next to him, bringing his body to rest against yours. Your touch provides a sense of solace, a comforting warmth enveloping him. Logan knows you're willing your powers to take his pain away, to distract his mind from the agony tearing through him. All this time, even your indirect presence in his life was a beacon of hope amongst the shadows - a reminder that he was never alone. He whispers your name, faintly.

"No. No." You insist, shaking your head. "You are not dying. I won't let you."

Logan feels your hands press against his wound, your sobs breaking his heart. The emotion in your voice is a dagger to his spirit. He wishes to reach up and brush those tears away, to extend the same sympathy you do to him. Desperation fills your mind, your fingers fumbling with his clothes before your eyes shut, trying to channel your healing powers into him.

"Sweetheart..." A soft smile tugs his lips and his hand finds yours, gently intertwining them. "It's okay."

As his mind begins to finally relax, a vision spreads a surge of content through his body. You and him - on the Sunseeker. Tucked away in your own pocket of time, drifting across the seas without a care in the world. Perhaps he'd let you steer if you asked. He'd do just about anything you ask.

"No - Logan."

"It's all quiet now."

Despite only having one memory of you, he'd always cherished the compassion and tenderness you showed him. He realises now that, over the last fifty years, he'd fallen in love with you. In his own way.

"No... please..."

Darkness engulfs him as he takes his last breath. "I love you."

The world shrinks. A broken whimper leaves you, lost amongst the ringing silence. You don't let go of him, even as he goes limp against you. Your uncontrollable tears stain his clothes, everything loses its meaning. It feels like eternity stretches out before you, fuelled by the weight of your grief.

Then, Logan's finger twitches in your hand. You gasp, heart pounding as life returns to his body, a gentle tide washing away old wounds. The soft thumping in his chest makes your eyes widen in disbelief. You hold your breath as his eyelids flutter open, he lets out a ragged groan, matching your stunned look.

"You saved me..."

Hearing his voice again sends trembles down your spine, without sparing another second, you wrap your arms around him. Logan flexes his muscles, bringing you into his embrace, a mixture of emotions consuming his mind. As you whisper his name over and over again, doubting the reality of this moment, he pulls back slightly - nothing but decades of pure longing in his eyes.

His lips brush against yours, pouring every morsel of affection he can muster. Logan kisses you like a man starved, everything he'd bottled up rushing towards freedom. Tears ache to escape when the feeling of love grows within him and he smiles - that little boy would be happy.

"You saved me, sweetheart."

Don't worry, I'm not letting the story end here. Part two is in the works!

[talaok]

Daddy knows best

Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader

Summary: Joel has given you homework, and although you've never watched porn, one particular thing you see does pique your interest (this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence, dub-con, Perv Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, squirting, anal play, one lil pussy slap, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, allusion to oral sex (m), he takes a pic, and LOADS of daddy-kink (Joel is also meaner in this one)

This is a dark fic, so please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.

a/n: I am a very sick individual. dont read this. honestly. just dont

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt.4

"Hi daddy!" you smiled, shutting the door to your room to greet him at the entrance.

"hello sweetheart" he grinned at your excitement getting rid of his jacket and throwing it on the coat stand before his eyes traveled to you, and god was he thankful they did.

That tiny baby blue skirt he's bought you was a damn good investment, and your own touch of that little fucking white top was just as good.

There you were, on display for him, all for him... and you didn't even know.

"I like the outfit" he smirked, tilting his head to get a better look at your naked thighs, thighs he now knew from experience to be soft and just... perfect.

"thank you daddy" you giggled, smiling happily

"You know what you need to do sugar, go on" he gestured, his voice deep and almost strained at the thought of what was about to happen.

It had turned into a routine now, but his dick certainly never got used to it.

"of course" you nodded, obedient as ever, your hands going to the hem of your skirt and slowly, slowly bringing it up- up enough to show him your bare core.

Panties weren't allowed anymore.

He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about the fact that he had the power to make you do that, to make you show your whole naked pussy to him in the middle of the living room, in the way your eyes remained on him, patiently waiting for further instructions, pending from his every word, there was something about that that made him thank each existing god every single time.

He got his good look, and then with just a nod he'd made you cover yourself up again.

"good girl" he smiled, getting rid of his boots as you eagerly stalked closer to him.

"how's my favorite girl doing?" he asked, his voice sweet as he wrapped one arm around you, pushing you closer to him.

"good" you nodded "my exam went well today at school"

Your math exam, the same one he'd watched you study a whole week for, even "helping out" in his own way once or twice... a kiss down there for every right answer had become your new favorite study method.

"mhh, of course" he smirked, stroking your cheek "pretty and smart, now that's my girl"

You bit your lip at his words, that warm feeling traveling between your legs once again.

"a-and how did your day go?" you realized was your turn to ask once you got out of the trance his eyes made you spiral into every time.

"mh" he hummed, shutting his eyes for a moment as if to clear his mind of bad memories from his day "Not great sweetheart... but it would have been a hell of a lot worse if I didn't know I was getting you all to myself tonight"

Once again, heat shot to your cheeks at the flattery.

"you thought about me?"

"'f course I did" he spoke softly "couldn't stop thinkin' about all the ways I can help you out tonight"

"yeah?" your eyes widened, excitement piercing through your tone.

"oh yeah" he growled, kissing you as his hand squeezed one of your asscheeks.

You whimpered into his mouth, and he leaned away.

"did you do your homework sugar?"

"mh-mh" you nodded, "I didn't have a lot today, just English" 

A chuckle rumbled deep from his chest

He did that often, smiling and laughing at something you said, and each time, you were left confused as to why.

"not those homework, babygirl"

The sound of a choked "oh" came out of your mouth, and that smug, predatory smile he always seemed to have around you persisted on his lips.

"y-yes" you said finally "yes I-I was doing them now"

"yeah?" he grinned, his fingers on your ass trailing lower and lower... and then lower, until his digits connected with your pussy- your wet, drenched pussy.

"I can feel it" he chuckled, his fingers sliding into you for no more than a second, 

"daddy" you whimpered

"clean daddy's fingers" he shushed you, bringing the proof of your arousal to your lips, and watching you closely, as you obeyed his command.

It was salty, saltier than his come, you noticed, licking his fingers clean.

"you were in your room?" 

you nodded

"let's go then"

__ __ __

Your room was the same as always, pink everywhere, filling every inch of the space, your curtains were drawn, but some light still soaked through them, and the lamp on your bedside did the rest.

You walked before him, as he had instructed, and when you both entered, he closed the door behind you.

You were moving to the bed where you'd left your laptop, when Joel's voice stopped you.

"What's that shirt doing on the floor?"

"oh I must have left it there when I changed" you explained, crouching down to pick it up 

"not like that" He tutted "Bend down, keep your legs straight"

You frowned, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling cool air hit your core

"stay like that" 

"w-why?"

"'cause daddy's gotta take a picture," he said, pulling out his phone and doing just that, a damn good view in front of him.

"w-why are you always taking pictures?"

he rolled his eyes at your need to question him.

"cause they help me keep track of how healthy you are" he lied through his teeth, walking to you until he could place one of his hands on each of your asscheeks, stroking lazily.

"for example, right now your pussy's very healthy" he drawled, one hand leaving your ass to land a quick slap to your core.

You jolted forward, gasping at the feeling.

It stung, but it also felt kinda... good

He chuckled softly again

"got it?"

"y-yes daddy" you gulped, as he helped you get up, groaning lowly at the feeling of your ass meeting his hard cock.

he turned you around, moving some hair out of your face.

"take off your top"

You did.

"now your skirt"

Again, you did,

remaining completely naked before him.

"good girl" he breathed, his index fingers traveling from the valley of your breasts to your navel, his eyes following suit "Now show me what you found" he nodded to the computer,

He sat on the bed, back against the headboard, and then placed you onto his lap.

He smiled at what he saw on your laptop.

"I-I went to the site you told me" you breathed, your voice no more than a whisper.

"so what do you think of porn?" he smirked

"I-I" Although you were naked, it felt a thousand degrees in that room, and his hands stoking your thighs and your nipples certainly weren't helping "I like... some of it"

"Which ones?"

"the ones that don't feel f-fake" you swallowed thickly 

He just grinned

"and did you find a favorite one like I asked you?"

You bit your lip as you nodded, tapping on your computer to switch tabs

"this one"

It was an amateur one, not in hd, the camera not even straight, but the couple... you really liked them

"play it"

with a tap of your middle finger, soft moans started filling the room, as the man in the video started pleasuring the woman with his mouth, grabbing at every piece of her with his hands, as if he couldn't help it, as if he wanted to devour all of her.

You didn't even notice your hips starting to move on their own accord, trying to grind onto something- anything, as your thighs squeezed shut.

Joel chuckled behind you, his eyes not on the screen but on you.

"what do you like about it?" 

His lips met with your shoulder as his fingers pinched your nipple, and there was nothing that could have stopped the moan that escaped you from doing so.

"T-they just look so... happy" you whispered, trying not to cry because of how desperately needy you felt between your legs "so in love"

This time, Joel managed to bite down his laugh

"a-and I like-"

you stopped, too embarrassed all of a sudden

"what?"

"n-nothing"

Joel shook his head, his mouth to your ear

"You're drenching my pants, sweetheart, it ain't nothing"

You almost moaned at just the sound of how deep and hot his voice sounded

"I like that" you confessed, urging him to look at the screen

"you like that?"

he didn't even sound like himself anymore, just a wolf, a wolf holding a defenseless bunny.

"y-yes"

"you like that she's on top of him" he taunted, "that she's riding his cock" he murmured "'s that right darlin'?"

"y-yes daddy" you cried, turning your head to look at him, to beg at him "Please" you whimpered "please daddy do something"

It wasn't just heat now, it was burning flames of need pooling between your thighs.

"what about the other part of the homework?" he didn't mind your pleas

"I- I couldn't daddy" you whined, real tears now stinging your eyes "I couldn't do it, not without you daddy- please"

"aw baby" he cooed "my dumb little baby" fake concern filled his features "Show me what you were doing"

"no please daddy just- you do it"

You were going crazy, literally crazy because of how utterly desperate you were.

"stop whining and do as I say" he ordered, his voice colder "or I'm done helping you out"

As if, he laughed in his mind

You obeyed immediately.

You needed him to help you out, there was so much you still had to learn, and you couldn't possibly teach all that to yourself, you couldn't even masturbate for god's sake.

"lay on your back and show me" he said again, as he got up.

He closed your laptop and set in on the floor as you positioned yourself in front of him.

You slowly planted your feet onto the mattress, spreading your legs.

His ravenous gaze fixed on your core.

"go on"

So you did,

One of your trembling fingers traveled to your core, and slowly- oh so slowly- you pushed it inside of you, whimpering lightly.

He didn't say anything, and so you started moving it, trying to mimic what you've seen him so countless times now... and failing miserably.

"I-I can't" an unsatisfied whine fled your mouth

"'f course you can't, not like that" Joel smirked devilishly "Put another finger in"

"b-but"

"just do it"

You tried, you really tried... but you were so scared, it just felt like too much, like you couldn't handle all that

"I-It doesn't fit- it's too much" you cried "Please daddy help me- please please please"

God, but did you ever stop whining?

And so partially because he wanted you to stop, and partially because he just wanted to, he grabbed your waist, pulling you to the edge of the bed, and dropped to his knees.

"It doesn't fit?" he mocked, your fingers pulling out of you just in time for him to plunge two of his own in.

You gasped and moaned and cried all at once.

"Then how come this little pussy can take my whole cock?" he didn't even wait for you to adjust, to stop squirming, before his index finger thrust inside you "How come I can fit three of my fingers in here?"

Real tears fell from your eyes as you moaned and arched your back like a cat.

You tried shutting your legs, but he spread them apart mercilessly, gripping your thighs as his fingers thrust in and out of you at a scathing pace

He'd never been like this, so fast, so mean

You didn't know if you were breathing, you didn't know if you were alive, if you had fainted, you didn't know anything besides how good you were feeling, how much pleasure he was giving you after you'd been starved so long for it.

"is it too much now?" he mocked, watching you fall apart in front of him "because it looks like it ain't" he growled "it looks like i could fit all my fingers in here and it still wouldn't be enough"

You moaned, you moaned so loud your throat hurt.

"'s that what you want, you want to be completely filled like a little slut?"

slut

he'd never called you that- why did he call you that? Why did it make you clench around him? why why why-

"no please daddy" you moaned "'s too much"

"three fingers is enough for this little pussy?" he teased 

"yes daddy yes- I-"

It was like making a deal with the devil, if you weren't specific enough...

"what about this other pretty hole?" he smirked, his fingers slowing as two of his fingers from his left hand reached between your asscheeks, grazing your other hole 

"d-daddy" you just stuttered

"I think we need to start stretching this one darlin'"

You gasped, as he used your moisture to wet his middle finger and trailed downwards

"I- b-but daddy"

"daddy's gonna fuck it one of these days" he interrupted "and we don't want it to hurt do we?"

You tried to calm your breathing as you answered

"y-you mean you want t-to-"

He chuckled, his fingers pushing into your g-spot making your mind just a big dumb mess.

"I mean I'm gonna fuck your ass babygirl" he explained, his finger pushing more and more at the entrance "it's another lesson, you see" he murmured "but I need to prepare you for it- I need to stretch you out real good for my cock"

His cock. Inside there. How on Earth was that gonna happen?

"That's why you're gonna be good and let me put this finger in here" he emphasized his words by pushing slightly "aren't you sweetheart?"

"I-is it gonna hurt?"

"not if you relax" he cocked a brow "are you gonna relax for me?"

"y-yes" you surrendered "yes daddy"

And that was that.

He pushed his finger into you, slowly, even though there was nothing he would have liked more to just thrust it, and hear your shocked cry.

But the moan you let out- oh the moan you let out was worth every moment of his painful self control.

It wasn't particularly pleasant at first, but then... then it was like fire spread through you, and when the fingers in your pussy started moving faster it was like gasoline dunked onto the flames.

it didn't just feel good, it felt... new.

It felt like heaven and hell altogether, and then it felt like... it felt like you needed to pee.

"d-daddy!" you gasped, your hips grinding shamelessly onto him "daddy's not right- I-I"

tears rolled down your temples, and your belly twisted into knots as your walls tightened and tightened around him.

"Shhh" he shushed you "let go" he said, "let go darlin'"

And so you did.

A rainstorm of pleasure putting out all the fire inside you. Pure, divine bliss took over you as you looked at him, crying out and squirming uncontrollably, until it was all over... until you realized what had just happened.

Whatever that was

"o-oh my god" your eyes widened, taking in his drenched shirt, his wet mouth and chin which you didn't even notice he'd put on you as you soaked him to get a taste "I-I'm so sorry daddy- I- I don't know what-"

He was on you before you could blink.

"sorry?" he laughed "what are you sorry about?"

"I-I-"

"you squirted" he grinned "ain't there nothin' wrong with that... the opposite actually"

"S-squirted?"

"that's right"

"and you're not mad?"

"why would I be mad?" he asked, amusement and thrill glossing his eyes "It's just like when daddy comes all over your face babygirl" he explained "You like that, don't you?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

his cock twitched at that

"And I like when you come all over mine baby"

"oh"

"yeah" he chuckled, kissing you deeply "I'm gonna make you squirt every fucking day from now on sweetheart"

You could only smile before he kissed you again

"now how 'bout we do that thing you saw?" he asked, "you wanna ride my cock sweetheart?"

"yes" you nodded eagerly

"then let's get to it, shall we?"

He gave you one last kiss, before he leaned back, undressing completely.

He chuckled as he caught you eating him up with your eyes, but said nothing as he laid on his back.

"c'mere" was all he said, grabbing your waist as you sat on top of him, your core inches away from his cock.

your hands raked his chest, stroking and admiring him, before you looked at his hungry gaze, and asked:

"what do I do?"

His eyes fell to where his cock sat on his belly

"take my dick in your hand"

You did as instructed, mesmerized by how big and beautiful it looked.

"now raise your hips a little, and slide me into you"

You did what he said, but just as he started entering you, you froze, the feeling foreign and not... good.

The woman in the video seemed to enjoy it so much, why can't I?

"you gotta relax" Joel explained, his right hand going to your clit "Let me in" he murmured, drawing circles on your bud "it'll feel good babygirl, just let daddy in"

And so, slowly, slowly you started sinking onto his manhood, whimpers and moans fleeing your throat with every inch added.

Util finally, you had done it.

"o-oh my god" you choked at the feeling.

He was deeper than he'd ever been, that you ever thought possible.

"good girl" he smirked

You didn't even have time to think about what you were doing that your hips were already moving, grinding onto him, bringing heaven to your core.

"O-Oh m-my"

"bounce on it darlin'"

Your hands sat on his chest as you obeyed, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as you raised and lowered onto his cock, moaning as you threw your head back.

now you understood that woman, It felt amazing

And so you started doing it again and again and again, clawing at his chest as groans rumbled from it.

"good god" he grunted "f-fuck"

"it feels so good daddy" you breathed, your lungs burning for oxygen

"yeah? You like riding me, baby?"

"yes" you cried "I like it so much daddy" 

"like having my cock so deep inside ya?"

"god yes" you whimpered 

"yeah?" he mocked, raising his hips to meet yours and forcing a roar out of you

"daddy! I-"

"you're coming already?"

"y-yes daddy I-"

He cocked a brow as he watched you

"think you deserve to?" he asked, "after acting like that before?"

"please" you begged, your voice nothing but a thread "please daddy let me come"

he remained stoic, and you were so close...

"please daddy, I'm sorry I'll be better, I'll be good- I promise"

He smirked now

"you promise?"

A nod, that was all you could offer

"No more questioning me when I'm trying to help?"

"n-no" you shook your head "I'll do whatever you tell me, whatever you want"

That's all he needed

"come on my cock sugar" he ordered "come like the good little girl you are"

You swore you blacked out after that, the pleasure was so deep and so strong it knocked you out.

The next thing you knew, you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his come leaking out of you.

he'd already told you you needed to tell mom you wanted to take the pill

The words were out of you before you could stop them.

"Y-you were a little... mean before-" you swallowed "when you were using your- fingers"

He groaned internally

"I know babygirl" he cooed, caressing your arms soothingly "but you were acting like a little brat, and I just- I ran out of patience"

"o-oh" 

"I'm here to help you, so it's hard for me when you act like that, understand?"

God how stupid you had been.

He was doing you a favor, and you were acting like a child.

"I-I'm sorry daddy" You pouted, leaning up to kiss him "I'm really sorry I won't do it again"

"thank you sweetheart" he smiled "but I think there's a better way to use that pretty mouth of yours to apologize"

You gulped, as you followed his gaze to his cock

"I'm kind of tired daddy" you murmured

"I know you are" he cooed "but daddy knows best, baby"

"You made me really mad sugar" he explained "And if you want to apologize real good... you're gonna need to suck daddy's cock"

And just like that, you were descending down his body.

[vamptarot]

Ten Things That Are F### Cool About You | PAC

pile one pile two pile three

how to choose a pile . . . choose which picture you are most drawn to or close your eyes, breath and read the one your eyes land on! ᡣ𐭩

— ⭑.ᐟ today I saw a pick a card that not only pissed me off but also disgusted me due to how mean the reader was in every single pile. I checked. their egoistic approach annoyed me. instead of spreading hate, I wanted to remind you why you are an awesome person. not proof read.

pile one : - cold drink !

𐙚 : the high priestess, eight of wands, nine of wands reversed, death

bottom of the deck: five of wands

♡ ⢷ why you are so cool

1. You always research about a topic before talking about it! I think this is very cool because a lot of people spread misinformation without even knowing it and that’s why fake fun facts exist. You are not like that though! You feel a sense of responsibility and thirst for knowledge, which in itself makes you a reliable person. - and source! -

2. You protect those who cannot stand up for themselves and I think that is very cool! Usually, you might have a hard time standing up for yourself but if it’s someone more vulnerable than you then you will give your all. You will raise your voice, yell, make valid arguments and even fight if necessary. - This differs person to person but the imaginary I am getting is protecting children, animals, women and young teens (from creeps to be exact) -

3. You work on yourself and enter new beginnings even if it’s scary at times, it can be hard and scary but that doesn’t make you back off from actually trying your best to become someone that you can be proud of. There is always a sense of hope within you that is very admirable.

4. You know how to keep privacy! A lot of people don’t, and don’t value it as much as they should. Having a healthy boundary with privacy is a privilege not many realise they have.. also, if you happen to share an intimate moment with someone you don’t run your mouth but rather treasure it as a memory as a form of respect.

5. Some people in this pile have temper issues, obviously, don’t take it if that doesn’t apply to you but I am seeing that for those of you who can resonate with that you are doing a really good job keeping it under control. You are not a hot headed person.

6. You are very experimental with looks! I do think this makes you a very beautiful person, because there are several things that suit you and look cool on you. If you like taking pictures I hope you know that you look beautiful and gorgeous in each one of them, one day you will look back at them with a smile even if you didn’t like that one thing because at least you gave it a try.

7. Zero judgment detected in your soul. Seriously, you could be the sort of person that never freaks out at people’s ‘hear me out’s but rather just go ‘yep, I get why you are into that’ even though you have no attraction to whatever character or person they said. You get their point, it’s just not one that you will make.

8. My fashion babies in this pile are slaying each and every time! You could take dressing fashionable in a seasonal manner mildly seriously. You don’t expect everyone to do it, but it’s most definitely something you take a lot of joy in. It’s really cool, your style is a 10/10. - Yes, even if you change it up often. -

9. Even if you are anxious you can do things so incredibly well. You remind me of a video I once saw of a girl with anxiety making a phone call, her hands were shaking uncontrollably the whole time but she didn’t stop being polite and kind. I think that’s you. Even in moments of being scared, you are kind to people.

10. You have such a beautiful voice. I mean your singing voice, but if you are not confident in that this could of course mean your regular speaking voice too. There is something comforting and yet bittersweet about your voice. It makes people feel home at times when they are sad.

— ✮⋆˙ die with a smile - bruno mars & lady gaga , ‘good luck babe’, 2003 , enha photoshoots , guitar injuries (from the string breaking) , white dahlias , glitter videos (those 2021 ones) , ‘good luck, charlie!’ , wavy hair , not well known ethnicity , taurus , capricorn , pisces

that’s all my beautiful pile one! I do think you happen to be very shy, but I do hope that you know that you genuinely have so much love to offer. there is much more to you than what you show the world, but I think you already know that. thank you for reading

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pile two : - peace sign ! ✌🏻

𐙚 : page of pentacles, eight of swords reversed, queen of wands, five of pentacles reversed, page of cups reversed, the star reversed

bottom of the deck: judgement

♡ ⢷ why you are so cool

1. YOU THINK YOU ARE SO COOL AND MYSTERIOUS BUT YOUR HEART IS FULL OF LOVE AND KINDNESS 🫵🏻 YOU TREASURE YOUR LOVED ONES AND WOULD RATHER SACRIFICE YOURSELF THAN TO EVER SEE THEM SUFFER !!YOU ARE SENSITIVE AND LOVABLE !!!!!!!!!

2. After all that you have went through you are still here and you are still standing. All that happened but rather than it destroying you completely or bringing you down you allowed yourself to heal and I am very proud of you for that.

3. Your judgement of people are very great! Of course if you don’t like someone of have mean thoughts of them you will keep it to yourself in order to not upset anyone, but you are still really good at telling their personality by their behaviour. Other people might not know but you do.

4. You are a secret little romantic! I bet it makes you shy to express your emotions outward and so freely. Truth to be told, you want to experience so much romantic things and wish to think of them without experiencing negative emotions. This makes you cool because even though you have a hard time with it, you know it’s a part of you and accept it.

5. You are so kind to animals, take care of them and most people reading this pile have a pet too. I think animals are just naturally drawn to you regardless of what they are. - as in pet, stray or wild animal. - It’s like they know they can be safe with you.

6. ‘You can slap a bitch if you need to’. Literally, that’s what I heard.. and I think most people here take pride in it too right? Just make sure to not get into unnecessary fights. It’s not what makes you cool though. It’s that you keep to your word. If you say you are gonna do it, you really will.

7. A lot of you find comfort in the stars and moon. In an aesthetic sense, but also there is a deep sense of appreciation for them that not many people have. They just put you in awe. If you are into astrology you have such a deep and profound understanding of it. One that not many people have.

8. Honestly, your view of life is sort of clouded and not completely “whole” but that’s alright. Exactly because day by day you do your best to learn and never turn an opportunity to see life from a wider perspective down, even if you might have done this in the past.

9. You are sooo talented, and you don’t even realise that. You are amazing in creating things; anything that is physical. This is especially true if you like jewellery, as I think designing or just making your own craft is something that you would/could enjoy doing if you put your own unique twist into it. It’s just something that makes you feel alive.

10. You are so confident! Even if you might not always feel like it, on the outside you always appear confident and aware of your surroundings. Someone composed who wants to present themselves in the best way possible. - You probably pay a lot of attention to your posture. -

— ✮⋆˙ ‘I don’t even wanna do this anymore’ , homework from 1 am ‘til 4am , 9 to 5 , jean purses ? , ditto - new jeans , a bent photocard (of whoever) , 7 - JK , stars , something about the four seasons ? , fave colour = red , ‘letta’ , cappuccino & frappuchino , friendly banter , 111 , 1212 , 2011 , sagittarius , aries , leo

i am sorry for yelling at you at the first point my pile 2 but some younger people in this pile - esp teenagers - like to put on a mean girl persona when that’s not them at all. what’s the point of that? you can’t please people with someone you are not. I sincerely wish that’s something you will remember my sweethearts. thank you for reading

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pile three : - megaphone !

𐙚 : three of wands, six of swords, knight of pentacles, justice, king of swords, the lovers

bottom of the deck: five of pentacles reversed

♡ ⢷ why you are so cool

1. You know when to walk away from a situation, which is unironically awesome. Like sure this could be considered a negative trait but you aren’t toxic with it. You just simply know your worth.

2. You have a person you are in love with for several years now right? At least, most people in this pile do. You have unwavering loyalty and love in your heart that no one can take away from you, no matter what. I think that’s very cool.

3. You treat children really well! Which should be a given, but many people are way more mean and cruel hearted than what children should deserve. After all, they are humans too and fragile ones at that. You are very responsible and a safe space for them. I wholeheartedly believe that’s cool.

4. When you call people out, you do so with evidence. I do like that a lot, you don’t just accuse people but rather keep collected and calm even if you are angry or despise the situation that you were put into.

5. Did you ever take a look at your side profile? You are quite ethereal, you have such an unique beauty to you. I do also believe that you look beautiful in your home country’s traditional clothing style:

6. You are stubborn, but not in a sense of annoying people or being selfishly caught up in your desires. This is a stubbornness that is found in people with leader like qualities, that people can rely on. You are stubborn in a sense of wanting to create a better future for yourself and those around you who you deem to deserve it. - bc let’s face it, some humans suck. -

7. I am sorry if this sounds weird, but your hand is always occupied with something. You are a very busy person, even if you might not believe so. You gotta do this, and you gotta do that. You have many interests, hobbies and responsibilities too. Yet you manage to juggle them so well, it’s hard to guess when you are stressed out.

8. Whenever you are around you light up people’s day and mood. You are such a sunshine child, people love to have you around. Even if you believe that’s not the case, people do appreciate you a lot more than you realise.

9. If you have a love for photography I hope that you know that you have a beautiful talent. You are amazing at taking pictures, making them pretty and seeing the beauty in every single little thing even if other people might not be able to do so.

10. You are really good with finances and saving up despite the anxiety it causes you. Give yourself a pat on the back because that is not something many people are able to truly say about themselves. Many people in this pile were raised in a way to appreciate money but not let it consume you, which I think you nailed pretty good!

— ✮⋆˙ somewhere over the rainbow - israel kamakawiwo’ole , early 00s & 10s hawaii , crying at night , daydreaming for hours , ‘thank goodness ‘ , my little pony , new hyper fixation , heat , ten to five , hair being washed by someone else , flamingos , pimples ? , papaya - sorry, ik gross to mention right after , pink skincare bottles , 555 , juliet , lucifer , 10th house

my dearest little lamb your energy was the calmest, sweetest and most welcoming out of all the piles. I am truly happy that you decided to read my pac / participate in it. it was truly a pleasant experience to channel for you 🫶🏻 thank you for reading

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